#sometimes I feel like the answer is a hard no

[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.

[morealias]

""lying is wrong" what evangelical nonsense is this???"

It's not evangelical. It's parental and societal. If you cannot be trusted to speak truthfully, you cannot be trusted to speak truthfully.

Children (in general) do not have the capacity for complex moral codes. Something is either wrong, or it is right for young children. As children grow up they will encounter instances where adults lie, hopefully they'll have a discussion with their parents that leads a more nuanced moral code, a greater understanding of where flexibility of speech and being truthful intersects.

I posit that it is never "good" to lie. It can be morally neutral in totality of the act. Deceiving someone can serve the Greater Good - "but whose greater good?" is always the question to ask here.

Lying is never a 'good' thing, however, if it serves a good purpose, a necessary purpose (survival), do not hesitate. To anyone saying "But that's good!" No, lying is never good. Ask yourself, which is better, to live in a world where you never have to lie, or to live in one where you must? If that doesn't show you that lying is not "good" but rather is necessary to avoid worse outcomes, then I cannot help you.

"sometimes it accomplishes a goal"

If you are lying it should always be in service of a goal. If you're lying just to lie… that is wrong.

If you're lying when it's meaningless to test your ability to lie, that is in service of a goal, "testing to see if I can lie".

"sometimes the truth is nobody's business, or is tricky to articulate, or you don't know what the truth is but are expected to have an answer regardless."

Then just say that. "It's none of your business", "that's hard to put into words/it's complicated, give me [TIME UNITS] to figure out how best/simply to say it", "I don't know, but I can find out for you".

If you don't feel safe speaking the actual truth, then of course lie.

"However, it is also still a useful social tool, and of course it’s part of the tool kit that you used to create stories. If you can’t lie, how can you write or tell a good story?"

I put forth that storytelling* is not lying. You are not decieving someone else, you are sharing a fiction. Maybe this is some small autistic line I refuse to cross or some weird ethical flexibility that serves me, but it's my line and my flexibility. Maybe it's even my lie. * By which I mean you and your audience understand your just 'telling a story". There may be truth in it, but the story is a story, facts are changed, obscured, elements of the story are whole cloth, if not all of it. This is the understanding between storyteller and audience. If the audience isn't made aware of this†, at least at someone point, it is lying and likely dangerous.

† See 1938 War of the Worlds radio broadcast. Yes the public was made aware of the broadcast just being a story, and thankfully no one lost thier life over it, but the radio station apologized for good reason. The panic was also not anywhere near as widespread or as terrible as the news media reporting on it made it out to be, or as CBS or ORson Wells played it up to enhance their legend.

A lesson for modern times about how the news sensationalizes things eh?

"Which is kind of a dark art."

Manipulating people into believing something that "never happened", something that is not true, is not "kind of a dark art", it is completely dark. Even if it's for the Greater Good.

"lying is wrong" what evangelical nonsense is this???

[mj0702]

Whatever she needs 🔞

smut ahead ... minors do not read!!!

“Hola mi Amores” Jennis voice sounded a little darker through the screen of the tablet that was set up against the bedside lamp in the bedroom

“Hola Hermoso” Alexia smirked you cuddled into her side her arm holding you safely your face on her chest your eyes half closed

“Why so hostile Putellas?” your girlfriend asked mirroring Alexias smirk

“Pulling your shorts up so everyone sees your thighs...” your blonde girlfriend grumbled light hearted

“My girlfriends are far away... I thought I give them something to look at” Jenni shot back just as teasingly

“Hm... all them fans thirsting over your legs..” the blonde hummed pulling you more into her side

“Don't worry Ale... they can thirst all they like... it's your head that these thighs are wrapped around” the dark haired chuckled

“You better remember that the next time you flirt with these fans after a game... the internet sees everything Hermoso” Alexia grumbled adjusting her hold on you once again while you followed the interaction between your girlfriends half awake

“I'm yours and you know that” Jenni smiled softly before she redirected her attention to you “Why so quiet Cari? Not often you don't say anything”

“Hm...” you hummed into Alexias chest avoiding your eyes even more

“Cari?” your dark haired girlfriend now got a little concerned sitting up in her bed her eyes fixed on your delicate frame

Since you didn't really reacted Jenni raised her eyebrow studying your face as good as she could

“Ale?” the Madrista asked the blonde fishing for answers

“Our Cariño is a little sad today...” the blonde hummed calmly before she pressed a soft kiss to your hairline

“Sad... why are you sad Cari? Did one of these soulless Barcelonans said something to you?” Jenni now looked directly at you getting a little snort out of you before you pressed your nose further into Alexias collarbone hiding your face a little

“¿disculpe? Soulless barcalonean?? Who are you talking about?” Alexia exclaimed

“Batlle... Guijarro.... worst one... Coll” the dark haired one waved off “... but seriously Cari... what is bothering you?”

“When are you coming home?” you mumbled into the blondes chest hoping Jenni didn't understood what you said since you already felt stupid

“Oh mi Cariño... mi amor... mi vida” Jenni sighed her voice soft “... two weeks... I have three more games and the second the final whistle blows I'm on my way to the airport... promesa”

“No... you won the League.. you have to celebrate” you mumbled knowing when Jenni starts celebrating it can go on for days

“I don't care about the League....” your girlfriend kept her voice soft feeling how hard the separation is on you

“But you should celebrate” you said again this time with more insistence

“Oh I will Cari... don't worry... I will celebrate...” Jenni grinned wolfish

“Funny you'd say that...” now Alexia piped up

“You already planning something?” the dark haired perked up immediately

“Hm.....” the blonde teased “... not really... but our Cari had a question earlier and I said we – you and I – will provide her with an answer together”

“Oh?” Jenni looked at you confused but curious

“Hm... go on Cari...” Alexia nudged you slightly “... you asked me so you can ask Jenni as well”

“Nuh – uh” you shake your head slightly before hiding further in the crook of Alexias neck

“Cariño...” Jenni now prodded a little bit

“It's embarrassing” you mumbled

“It's not....” the blonde who held you rolled her eyes for good measure

“You know you can ask me everything Cariño...” the dark haired one said gently knowing sometimes you needed the extra caring other times you needed a more... dominant approach

“Ale...” you whined hoping your girlfriend would help you out

“Oh no... you wanted to know... you are going to ask Jenni” the blonde snorted

“But...” you kept whining

“Cari...” Jenni now chose the other approach her voice much more dominant which made you shrunk even deeper against Alexia

“No” you mumbled against the blondes neck

“Cariño... if you want an answer you have to ask the question first” the dark haired spaniard raised her eyebrow at you and you knew you were walking a delicate line

“Howdoesanalfeel?” you mumbled shutting your eyes embarrassed

“¿disculpe?” Jenni asked confused

“She wants to know what it feels like to have anal sex” Alexia blurted out getting tired of your actions

“How should I know?” the dark haired asked looking at Alexia confused while you groaned quietly “You can answer that... I'm not the one on my hands and kn....”

“Jennifer” the blonde snapped making you smile against her skin “... she asked for different reason you Idiota”

“Huh?” Jenni tilted her head before she realized what was happening “... oh... OH... I mean... yes”

“Finally” Alexia rolled her eyes before she started to smirk “... since I'm here and you are not... you can either watch or we could make a nice little clip of it...”

“I swear Alexia...” the dark haired growled “... if you dare to touch our Cariño without my permission you know you'll regret it....”

“You really want to punish her because YOU are in Mexico??” the blonde teased letting her fingertips stroke slowly over your rips

“She's a good girl... she'll wait... you on the other hand” Jenni warned her blonde girlfriend

“What if we wait with the new stuff until you're here but she's been so good and...” Alexia said softly hearing your little needy whine

“I'll know Putellas... if you touch her ass I'll know... and I will make you suffer for it..” the lanky woman growled but saw how much you enjoyed Alexias simple touch

“Yeah yeah....” the blonde rolled her eyes but looked at her girlfriend questioning

“Go on... it's been a while since I saw both of you come” Jenni flicked her hand in a “go on”-motion

“Wha do you want to see?” Alexia looked at her girlfriend gently prying you a little away from her neck

“Whatever she needs” the lanky spaniard said seriously while she watched how Alexia gently pushed you on your back

“You hear that Cariño?” the blonde started to press soft open mouthed kisses against you neck “Jenni is very nice to you... you'll be good for her sí?”

“Mhm...” you sighed closing your eyes enjoying the gentle touches your girlfriend provided

“Then be good and look at her... let her see” Alexia whispered in your ear her voice darker than usual

“Jenni” you whined as you opened your eyes again turning your head which resulted in two things

First – you saw how comfortable Jenni got against her headboard a slight smirk on her lips as she watched how Alexia pushed your shirt up and your pants down

Second – with you turning your head you showed your neck to Alexia who growled lowly before she licked her lips her eyes fixed on the soft skin

“Sssshhh Cari... Alexia will take care of you” your dark haired girlfriend shushed you gently smirking a little bit “Won't you Ale?”

“Sí... whatever you need Cariño” Alexia murmured still transfixed on your neck

“Need you” you whined needy trying to look at the blonde who immediately grabbed your chin turning your head back to look at Jenni

“Look at her.. not me” the blonde growled making you whimper

“She's not mad Cari... she's just in love with your neck... we know that already.. marking you every chance she gets – even after games” Jenni chuckled watching the interaction amused “Go on Ale... mark her as long as you can because you know when I'm coming home there won't be any of it”

That was the confirmation Alexia needed quickly leaning down biting into your neck harshly to point where you thought she drew blood. You whimpered closing your eyes after a few seconds of pain trying to get the blonde to ease up a little bit just to be met with a warning growl. Jenni on the other hand chuckled loudly seeing how easily she still can dictate the situation even from nearly 6.000 miles away.

“Ale” you said your voice low but Jenni could hear the pain

“Alexia” the dark haired one immediately jumped in with a warning knowing sometimes her counterpart could get lost in the sensation

“Hm?” the blonde looked up with a mix of annoyance and confusion

“Slowly” Jenni said seriously nodding toward you

“Lo siento Bebé” Alexia looked down at you apologetic bending down pressing a soft kiss to her mark

“Stop wasting time Alexia” the lanky spaniard warned

“You said slowly” the blonde shot back her attention quickly divided from you to her back to you

“Slowly yes... time wasting no...” Jenni bit out

“Hm...” Alexia hummed now starting to pull your shirt over your head leaving your chest bare the cool air in your bedroom letting your nipple harden immediately

“Finally” your made out Jennis voice through the screen making you open your eyes again seeing how she got even more comfortable

Alexia didn't let you dwell on the sight too much pressing a soft kiss in the valley in between your breasts before she kissed her way over to your perky nipple starting to gently suck on it her tongue applying little pressure to the nub making you moan quietly. Both of them knew even if you mostly let them use you however they please sometimes you just needed the gentle soft intimacy. Even more so when your mind was overwhelmed and you missed Jenni who always was a big support in your life. You came into their relationship when you basically were at your lowest both of them being big parts of your healing and getting back to yourself. Which made it even harder when Jenni took the offer from Mexico. Yes it provided you with another destination for when you needed to get away from the busy schedule Barcelona and the Nationalteam put on your shoulders but it still hurt every time you have to say goodbye to Jenni at the Airport. And every time a little more. Alexia was great yes she looked after you when she noticed you spiralling making sure you eat and rest enough. But Jenni made the House homey – filled it with laughter warmth and homemade lemonade.

“Cari....” Alexia pulled you back into reality with a soft voice “... are you with me?”

“Hm.. yeah sure” you mumbled

“You want this sí?” the blonde checked sitting back on her heels

“I... just” you said getting a little uneasy

“Ssssshhhh Bebita...” Alexias big hands now stroked over your stomach trying to ground you as she quickly glanced at the screen seeing that Jenni sat up more forward her face showing concern

“Jenni” you whined again as you grabbed one of Alexias hand intertwining your fingers

“I know Cari... I know...” Jenni said softly “... I miss both of you too... but Ales there to help you out a little bit okay... let her take care of you”

You couldn't really word your feeling so you went back to whining making Jenni smile with a little pity

“Ale.... clear her mind of all them haunting thoughts” the black haired spaniard nodded towards you making Alexia grin devilish

“My way then....” the blonde smirks pulling your pants down the rest of the way not letting go of your hand “... keep looking at Jenni Cari... be good for me and her and keep your eyes on Jenni”

“Ale...” you whimpered but you knew not to disobey her

“The only sounds I want this mouth to leave in near future are moans...” Alexia said strictly her free hand working getting your boy shorts out of the way

The second she achieved her goal her hand cupped your pussy the heel of her hand applying pressure to your clit making you moan out arching your back a little bit tightening your hold on her hand that held yours

“Exactly like this” the blonde praised you smiling “.... she's basically dripping Jenni... tell me Cari... is it for me or for Jenni?”

“You” you moaned out knowing it would only play into your favour feeding Alexias ego a little bit

“Hm... good answer Bebé” Alexia hummed replacing her hand by sliding her knee in between your thighs now her thigh pressing against your cunt

“She's just saying that because I'm not there” Jenni snorted but she slowly leaned back against her headboard

“You can't feel how wet she is Jenni” the blonde murmured against your skin as she kissed her way back up to your breasts “... only for me”

“Keep telling yourself that...” the lanky one snorted again “... you know she needs to be told what to do”

“What do you want Cari....” Alexia kissed your collarbone

“Wanna come” you moaned as you grinded down on Alexias thigh making her smirk against your skin

“You will Cariño.... I promise...” the blonde whispered “... but you know Jenni decides that...”

“Jenni please” you whimpered looking at her with puppy eyes

“No holding back Cari...” Jennis eye found yours and you could see how dark they got “... let Alexia make you feel good”

The second the dark haired was done talking Alexia captured your mouth in a hot passionate kiss pressing her thigh harder against your core making you moan into the kiss. Jenni hummed appreciative loving to watch the two of you. She knew Alexia was more than capable to take care of your needs what didn't stop her to give in her two cents once in a while

“Stop teasing” your dark haired girlfriend scolded Alexia lightly

She watched how Alexias free hand started to wander first stop was your breasts where she massaged the soft flesh her thumb flicking over the hard nipple making you whine into her mouth. The blonde pulled away from the kiss to get her attention back to your neck – Jenni always joked that if Alexia wouldn't be a professional footballer she'd be a vampire. At the moment you didn't care since you started to feel Alexia everywhere. Her large hand on your breast, her hot breath on your neck, her muscular thigh against your core, her other hand still holding your own. The blonde noticed the slight change in your body quickly glancing at Jenni smirking victorious causing the older one to playfully roll her eyes.

“Come on Cari...” Alexia murmurs against your skin “... I know you want to”

She pressed her knee more into the mattress intensify the pressure on your clit with her thigh making you moan out a whimper. Alexia rocked against your core once more to give you a little push to finally start getting yourself off on her leg. The blonde hummed pleased when she felt you rock carefully against her so you took it as a sign that that's what she wanted you to do. So you continued to rock against her upper leg getting into a rhythm while Alexia nuzzled against your neck letting you use her strong thigh to your liking.

“That's it Bebé...” you made out Jennis voice faintly to caught up in your action “... I knew you could be good for Ale and I”

That simple praise got a moan out of you your movement faltering for a second until Alexia got your attention back on track by slightly twisting your hard nipple. You immediately rocked back against her your breath coming out in panted breath while the blonde on top of you just did the bare minimum letting you take what you needed. She knew you would word it if you needed her to do more or even take over. Right now just the intimacy of the situation was enough for you as you feel the familiar and not unwelcomed warm feeling slowly starting to build. Your rhythm increased while you started to hold Alexias hand even more tightly silently telling her you were close and she started to press soft encouraging kisses against your neck

“Are you close Cari?” Alexia mumbled into your skin you confirming it by whining and nodding your head

“Come Cariño” you heard Jennis demanding voice and you did just that with Alexia pressing her leg firmer against your core making you arch of the bed moaning loudly

“Joder... I'll never get tired of that image” Jenni huffed as you sank back into the mattress and you could hear your blonde girlfriend whispering soft praises in your ear her body now complete covering your own

Jenni would never admit it out loud but being separated from you two was so hard for her. Not just because of the absolutely amazing out-of-this-world sex but also the simple daily things like going for groceries or just laying on the couch having a movie playing in the background with you complaining that you didn't understood a word because it was in spanish and you didn't speak it. Truth was you understood it quiet well and Alexia caught you more than once speaking spanish with Marta or Ona. So both of your girlfriends knew you just liked to complain about something and they just played into it changing the movie to english most of the times so you'll settle down in between them. So yes – seeing Alexia making you come when she was so far away not able to touch you was even more hard.

“You feeling better Cari?” Alexia asked you gently already knowing the answer before you could even shake your head

“Words Bebé” your dark haired girlfriend said seriously

“No” you panted out and the goddess on top of you smirked knowingly

“No?” Alexia smirked teasingly “What do you need Cari?”

“Need more” you breathed out trying to get a reaction out of your girlfriend by pressing your nose into the soft skin at the crook of her neck

“More? Are you sure you realize what you asking for Cariño?” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you but you just nodded

“She wants more Jenni....” Alexia looked straight at the other woman “... what do you say?”

“Whatever she needs Ale...” the older one shrugged her shoulders “... she asked for it – take what's yours”

“Hm... what to do with you Cari?” the blonde mused loudly “... should I just use my fingers? Or my tongue? Or should I get the strap?”

The images that flooded your mind made you moan instantly getting a chuckle out of your blonde girlfriend

“All of it? Sounds like you're in for quite an entertaining night Hermoso” Alexia chuckled darkly

“Then get going....” Jenni rolled her eyes knowing Alexia teased her on purpose “... you don't get any younger either”

That comment made the blonde bark out a laugh childishly sticking her tongue out towards the dark haired one before redirecting her attention back on you

“Lets show her who the better stamina has Cariño” Alexia smirked her hand already on the path downwards with the destination in between your legs

Alexia normally wasn't one for slow rather on the rough side of intimacy but she saw you were balancing on the edge of overwhelming so she held herself back gently working one of her long digits into your pussy. The moment you felt her finger entering you you moaned deeply letting her work her finger in and out of you until she felt you loosening up a little carefully pushing a second finger in. You gasped at the stretch no stranger to Alexias long fingers but after still being a little sensitive from your first orgasm it was a tight fit – literally. The blonde didn't see the point to even let you get used to her continuing to fuck you slow and deep. She hit all the right spots inside you making you moan and groan and when she hit that one spot you actually squeaked a little bit. Hearing your high squeak Alexia faltered for a moment before smirking

“That spot Bebita?” the blonde teased pressing her fingertips into the same soft spot again getting the same reaction out of you

She knew if she would continue like this she'd have you come in mere minutes but she wasn't in the mood for a quick orgasm. You already had one so this time she'll make you wait. The blonde started to fuck you harder and a little faster occasionally hitting that spot that made you melt but every time she felt you tighten around her fingers she went back to slow down and not so deep. You were on the verge of tears after the fourth time Alexia slowed down again your breath laboured when you started to beg

“Please Ale...” you begged desperately “... por favor Alexia”

“Qué necesitas Cari” the blonde teased you only her fingertips just at the entrance to your wet core

“Please Alexia... I can't...” you moaned out as she teased the inside of your lips “... I can't anymore... please”

“I know you can Cari...” Alexia smirked loving the way you were giving yourself to her

“No puc” you nearly slurred your words desperately

“Catalan... that's new... I really like it...” the blonde pressed a soft kiss to your lips “.... no t'atreveixes a venir sense el meu permís”

“Alexia... this is about her” Jenni now interrupted seeing how you came close to your breaking point “... not about you”

“I'm doing this for her” Alexia growled at Jenni “... I know she can hold out a little longer Jenni... I can FEEL it”

Jenni stared at Alexia for a second then nodded her permission for the blonde to continue

“You hold out until I allow you to come Cariño...” the blonde now growled into your ear “... if not you'll feel very sorry once Jenni comes home – I'll make sure of it”

With that she went back to push her fingers deep into your pussy making you moan loudly. Alexia kept her slow but deep thrusts half her hand covered in your juices by now but she knew she can make you come hard enough so you'd be exhausted enough to fall into a peaceful slumber afterwards without her pulling out all the stops which normally resulted in you not being able to properly walk the next day and you still had training to attend. When she felt you tighten around her fingers again she smirked knowing this time you would come with or without her permission and since this really was about you she made it easier on your mind

“She's so tight Jenni...” the blonde looked straight at your other girlfriend who still sat comfortable against the headboard in her own bedroom watching the two of you “... even if I tried I wouldn't be able to fuck her the way I wanted... she's too tight for hard and fast”

“Yeah? Talk to me Ale...” the dark haired spaniard played into the little game Alexia started

“Barely fit two fingers...” Alexia grunted using her upper legs to hold your legs open when you tried to close them trying to trap the blondes hand “... you see how she tries to trap my Hand... you know what that means”

“Let her come Ale... she's been good for you” Jenni smiled seeing how you tried to wriggle away from Alexias frame simply to get a break

“In a minute” the blonde said just moving with you so you wouldn't have the chance to withdraw from her “... no Cari... don't try to get away... you know you want... you know I ALWAYS get what I want out of you”

You felt Alexia pull you against her and pulled you up so you were sitting on her thighs her two fingers still buried deep inside you. She freed her hand from your iron like grip to get her arm around your back holding you up guiding you to ride her fingers. With the new angle it was even harder for you to hold back your orgasm and Alexia didn't help you by sucking a nipple into her mouth using her teeth to bite down carefully

“Ale...” you tried to push her a little away from you but as usual it was no use

“Come Cari...” the catalan growled against your breast as she pulled you down and pushed her fingers up roughly

You didn't really remember anything after her demand. Both women knew how to play your body like an instrument but this time Alexia provided you exactly with what you needed. You didn't remember screaming out her name. The way your body arched against hers. The strong grip that the blonde held you against her. How you slumped against her. When she oh so carefully withdraw her fingers from your dripping cunt. Next thing you remembered was how she gently laid you back down on the bed whispering sweet nothings trying to help you calm that ragged breathing of yours. You whined as she gently let go of you and left the bed for Jenni jumping in telling you how good you did praising you for letting Alexia take care of you. You whined even louder when you realized that the typical warmth of her body and the smell of her skin was missing.

“I know Cari...” Jenni said softly “... just two more weeks... and then you'll get everything you ask for... I promise mi amor”

Alexia came back with a towel starting to clean you up as much as she thought you needed. She didn't see the point in dragging you into the shower now as you both have to shower in the morning anyway. The blonde disposed the towel carelessly on the floor crawling back into bed pulling you against her your face immediately finding the crook of her neck. You felt so light and carefree that you relaxed against your girlfriend the second both of you got comfortable

“She already out?” the Madrista chuckled seeing how your breathing evening out slowly

“Not quite... but nearly” Alexia whispered pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “... she really misses you Jenni... we both do”

“I miss you too...” Jenni sighed “... two more years okay... I found my love for football again and I'm not ready to retire right now...”

“I understand all your reasoning Jenni... I do... WE do...” the blonde said seriously “... but maybe... something closer to us... closer to home...”

“I would die in the english weather...” the older one tried to lighten the mood “... France... been there done that...”

“They say Germany suppose to be beautiful in summer” Alexia teased back “... or Italy... Norway maybe?”

“Sweden... or Denmark...” Jenni thought out loud

“Jenni... lets be serious for a second... what about home?” the blonde turned serious again

“I can't come play in Spain Ale.. you know why? You would personally kill me if I go and play for Madrid... Barcelona made clear they don't want me back... and where else should I go? Levante? Eibar?” the dark haired one turned serious as well

“Well with you... maybe Madrid would get a goal at El Classico for once... Misa is there” Alexia said running out of ideas while you started to snore softly against her skin

“How does y/n always says... it's not Misas fault – everyone makes mistakes... what do you think she'll do when I start playing in white?” Jenni snorted

“We need you closer to us Jenni... it's killing her... it's killing me...” the blonde said her voice breaking a little

“I promise I'll look for a solution” the older one said softly “I promise Alexia”

“Okay...” the catalan nodded

“November transfers are soon... so maybe there's a chance there...” Jenni smiled encouraging “... how are you feeling... need me to talk you through it?”

“No... I can wait...” Alexia smiled knowing exactly what her girlfriend was talking about “... also our Cari would get so mad if she doesn't get to watch or help....”

“You seriously denying me giving you an orgasm because the smallest one would get mad” the dark haired one lifted her eyebrow in disbelieve

“YOU don't have to deal with her in the morning... she's grumpy anyway – if she notice we had fun without her she'll break someones legs...” the blonde said adjusting her hold on you feeling a little bit of drool on her collarbone “... and most likely mine”

Jenni barked out a laugh before saying goodnight to Alexia promising her to call the next day after she had a talk with her agent about potential clubs

“Té amo mi reina” Jenni smiled softly

“You know I hate it when you call me that” Alexia smiled even tho she could feel the tears in her eyes

“Why do you think I keep calling you that” the older one winked “.... Té amo Ale”

“Jo també T’estimo” the blonde whispered back “ho fem”

[doctorho]

thinking about viktor with a chronically ill reader. you know? we see the vision, right?

it just works.

the thing with chronic pain, illnesses, disabilities, all of that - is that you can't always see them. sometimes you can, sure, you can see the mobility aids and the not-standing-up-for-too-long and the bruising from blood draws and sometimes you can see the compression garments, the pills and inhalers and the i'm fine, i just need a moment-

but most people just don't pay attention to that. or if they do, they don't put the pieces together fast enough to figure out what's really going on under the surface. viktor does, though; he's been there, and most of the time he's way beyond hiding it. or, well, he's way beyond hiding some of it.

walking with a cane was like carrying a neon sign that said yes there is something different here. yes i can't walk the way you can. no it's not going to get better. that last part wasn't directly evident just from him using a cane, sure, but with the way his cane looked, it should've been pretty clear. He had used one practically forever and it had evolved with him, he'd made it as comfortable to use as it could be, had even made it match his uniform.

so yeah. viktor knew what it was like. he'd been the disabled kid forever, even if some of the others were never going to say it out loud. that was just a thing about him, and he knew how hard it could be to navigate something like that in an academic environment. it was hard to admit you couldn't do something, that you had to sit down, that you needed a moment. that sometimes your body was just falling apart for no particular reason and it was just another tuesday.

sometimes it was easier to sit with the pain than take medication in the middle of a meeting, knowing that someone would make a bigger deal out of it than it had to be, even if it was just raising their eyebrows meaningfully. they'd think about you differently afterwards.

he could see you push through it, and he didn't blame you, really, he did that himself, too, but - he didn't want you to hurt yourself. you hadn't been in the lab as long as he had, so he could understand you being a little cautious with how you acted and what you told people, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to put on a show for him. he was, after all, walking around with the equivalent of a light-up sign of i'm disabled, too, and he liked to think of himself as someone who wouldn't come off as judgemental about stuff like that. other stuff, sure, stupid stuff, but not that.

so when he sees you dealing with the telltale signs of being in pain, he conveniently sends jayce and the others to pick up some parts that would take a while to collect and that they wouldn't actually need until the next day. but better prepared, right? what's the harm.

and then he comes to sit next to you and sighs deeply. leans back. relaxes to the best of his abilities. asks if you're alright, and sounds like he already knows the answer.

you sigh too, shift your position, and answer with it's fine. and viktor recognizes the strain in your voice, in your posture, and he knows there's a key difference between this and i'm fine, but he'll take it. it's not what he'd like, but he'll take it.

he leans over to dig around his belongings, and then offers you a bag of candied almonds.

"if you're going to take pain killers, it's better if you eat something first," he says, and you just stare at him. "i assume you haven't taken anything yet. nothing strong enough, at least," he continues, casually, and you take a deep breath and accept the almonds.

he smiles. continues like this is totally normal. "jayce made me start carrying around some food so i could do that. for myself, i mean. but it doesn't hurt to have some snacks around either way, i suppose."

he knows he's skirting around the real topic of the conversation, but he also knows that sometimes people get uncomfortable around his bluntness, and you hadn't exactly told him you were in pain, so he'd understand it if you were a little weirded out. after all, most people didn't notice this stuff. but you haven't run away from him, and you're eating, and then you're digging around your own bag to take your medication, so he'll count this as a win.

thanks, you exhale, handing back the almonds, and he takes a handful of them himself.

"i'm fine, really," you continue, not really looking at him, "it's just hard sometimes."

he nods. it was - even if he didn't know the specifics, he knew that it was true. especially since you had been hiding it from the others. and with something like that, something the others couldn't see, the invisible step to let them see it would grow bigger and bigger with time, when they expected you to be able to do everything they did without a second thought.

he also knows you didn't mean fine in the dictionary definition sense of the word, but more in the this is normal and you don't need to worry -sense. and that's fine. he was used to functioning on different parameters than most people, so this version of fine was good enough.

my body just isn't always very reliable, you explain with a sigh, and that he knows better than well.

he hmms in answer and nods. he knows.

you exhale a small laugh at that.

and he's glad you're relaxing, wants you to be as comfortable here as possible.

"these people are alright," he says casually, "as far as healthy people go."

viktor smiles a little.

another win for him.

and then he sits with you, talking and not talking and enjoying the quiet comfort if it all. and then he makes up some excuse so you don't have to keep working yet. he was well aware what it was like trying to work through the pain, waiting for the medication to kick in, and he wouldn't exactly recommend it. besides, as a rule, you were more likely to make mistakes if you were thinking through a layer of pain, and that was just plain bad planning. it made much more sense to just take a break and continue when you felt better. in fact, he was in dire need of a caramel latte and a pastry right now, do you want anything?

and after that it just... sort of falls into place. you're more relaxed around him. and the others, too, but he's the only one that really gets it. doesn’t make a whole thing out of it when you need to sit down for a moment or take a break while your pain killers kick in. he's just there.

he knows what it's like, and that feels like an invisble curtain lifted from between you and him, and it's just easy. you don't have to pretend you're doing better than you actually are and he doesn’t hide it when he's in pain, either.

most people don't see it, but there's a mutual understanding there; yeah, sometimes life sucks and sometimes you're in pain and no it's not fair that sometimes your body is falling apart and life just keeps going. you can't do all the things you want to do but you still have to show up for the other life-stuff and if you took a day off every time you felt bad you would never get anything done and it just never stops.

but sometimes there's someone who'll sit through it with you without judgement. offer a warm drink and a snack and some understanding.

[livwritesstuff]

Today was a bittersweet day – the last day of the three-month parental leave Steve had taken when their daughter Robbie was born before he headed back to his counseling job.

Eddie knows that Steve is feeling torn a few different ways about going back to work.

On the one hand, Steve loves his job, and he’d worked his ass off earning his doctorate so he could be a trauma therapist just like he’d planned. Kids had also been a part of his plan, obviously, but as more of an in addition to type of way, rather than instead of when it came to his career. Eddie knows this, and he knows that Steve is excited to go back, to reconnect with his patients after three months apart.

Eddie also knows that their kids are everything to Steve in a way his job will never be (duh), and Eddie had seen the way Steve refused to ignore the gravity of today – the last day he doesn’t have to share his time with anything other than their daughters.

Steve had been emotional about going back to work in a similar way the first time around with Moe, and he’d called home about eight or nine times during his first day back in the office, asking how things were going and if he’d missed anything. Now, Moe is two-and-a-half (and some change, if they’re being technical), and Robbie just hit the three-month mark a few days ago. This time, Steve had done his best to split his time between their two daughters, and it’s not all that different from their normal day-to-day, honestly, just…something heavier in the air, maybe.

Now, Moe’s all fresh and clean from her bath, her bangs slicked back with the rest of her damp hair (Steve had put on a whole show of planting kisses all over her forehead and saying, “is this where you’ve been hiding your brilliant brain from us?” which always sends Moe into giggling hysterics), and Steve’s got her all bundled up in a big fluffy towel, snuggling her close with one arm as he balances Robbie on his chest with the other, all of them piled into a rocking chair while Eddie sits stretched out on Robbie’s rug.

“I’m probably not gonna be home when you wake up tomorrow morning,” Steve tells Moe, and it’s not the first time he’s brought up this particular subject today, but, y’know…toddlers. Really gotta nail in the point sometimes with toddlers, “‘Cause I’m going back to work, so I have to leave early to drive into Boston.”

“Why do you hafta drive to Boston?” Moe asked.

“Because that’s where my office is. Remember a few weeks ago when we visited my office?”

“Yeah and they met Robbie.”

“That’s right,” Steve nodded, “Everyone I work with met Robbie. I got to take a break from work when Robbie was born, and now it’s time for me to go back.”

Moe’s eyebrows are furrowed.

“But…I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, bug,” he tells her, “I miss you and Robbie and Daddy like crazy when I’m not home with you.”

“So why don’t you take more break?”

“I sorta took all the break I’m allowed to, sweet pea. It’s time for me to go back to work.”

Eddie looks at Moe, sees the cogs turning in her little brain as she tries to figure out a way to convince her dad to stay home with her.

“But what if you just don’t work anymore?”

It’s a good question, Eddie knows, and she’s not the only one asking it.

Not too long after Robbie’s arrival, when Max and El had come to visit and meet the new baby, Max had privately asked Eddie if he thought Steve might throw in the towel on the whole career thing this time around. Again, it’s a fair question for anybody who really knows Steve, anybody who sees how much he loves their kids and how much he loves being a dad, even if Eddie knows the answer is no. Still, it’s a close no.

Steve hums sympathetically, “Maybe someday, but I like my job. I get to help people, and I worked hard in school to be able to do that. Someday you might decide you want to have a job where you do more school and get special degrees.”

“Like what kinds of jobs?”

“Like a doctor or a lawyer, or maybe you want to work in a lab and do research on something. It’s a big world, Moe, and you can do whatever you set your mind to."

"I want to be an astronaut," Moe tells them.

"Well, there you go."

"Or I wanna be a cookie."

"Oh-" Steve's eyebrows furrow as Eddie starts to laugh. "Alright..."

"That's my girl," Eddie says, "Astronaut or pastry. I like it."

[white--moon]

"Oh, you were bein' a smartass?" There's a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone while he rolls his eyes. But it's good to hear that Ichigo is still thinking of his sisters in this. Ever the protector. Has to make sure his sisters are alright, had to interrupt his own life to make sure Shiro gets through this treat.

He smirks slightly about that. "What would it be about? What it's like runnin' around the streets doin' everyone else's dirty work?" He scoffs, but it's good natured. "Whatever, I'm not that hard to figure out. How to understand a back alley drug dealer for dummies." He laughs, amusing himself.

Aiming a look at Ichigo, he arches a brow and disagrees. "I always need a bunch a' guys saying yes to me. Preferably hot ones." Not that he's sleeping with his staff. He tried that exactly twice. The first time was disastrously annoying and it was not a fluke.

It is a fair question, and he wants to argue that, but Ichigo keeps going to answer the question anyway. "I wasn't asking what you think, I was asking exactly what I asked." But he got Ichigo's option anyway and it doesn't surprise him. He notes that Ichigo didn't actually say yes or no to wanting him there, though. He's talking around the answer the same way Shiro did about the shirt. "I already plan on laying low for a while. As much as I can, at least. I think I'll stay in the penthouse for a while. It's a lot safer than the mansion but it'll seem less like hiding." And he can higher some muscle to keep around easy enough, like Ichigo's suggesting, he's stubborn about it. He has always been his own muscle. He's never needed security or guards, but this is getting bigger than he can handle on his own. It's getting bigger than he thinks he warrants, but he has made himself notoriously hard to get rid of.

He doesn't know how to feel about Ichigo trying to keep him and his maybe-boyfriend situation intact. It's good of him, it's the morally right thing to do. The only real problem with it Shiro has is that it's just further proof that he and Ichigo have no chance of being together again. "I'll figure things out with him, you don't need to worry about it." Or he wont. Maybe he'll sabotage his own building relationship and blame it on all the chaos of attempted assassination. His features even out. "All my habits?" This better not turn into a lecture. "He thinks I indulge a little too much sometimes, but otherwise he tolerates it. I doubt he expected anything less from a dealer. Most people don't know I was ever clean, only you. It was always weird for me not to use the product I was sellin'."

He slides into the driver seat and starts the car, then looks over at Ichigo and snorts. "You mean boring?" He shrugs. "I needed something with more cargo space that didn't stand out so much. It's easier to clean, too. Less work for my cleaner."

He's expecting Ichigo to turn this into a You're Not Going To Die conversation, but instead it circles into maybe Ichigo dying instead. It drops a stone into his guts. Maybe he shouldn't be allowing Ichigo to get himself involved. Maybe he should be trying harder to push Ichigo away, so he stays out of it, out of harm. On the other side of things; Ichigo's very profession puts him in danger and if Shiro's not selfishly taking up his time now he might not get to later if Ichigo gets himself killed. "You better not." He doesn't even know what he'd do, but it wouldn't be good.

He snorts at the mild offense Ichigo takes at his description of Ichigo's day job. "No, you're right, that is pretty cool. You gonna write a book, then? So in three hundred years some stranger you can't comprehend right now can perceive you? Maybe I need to write a book." He's not going to write a book. That's way too much sitting still for his brain to tolerate. His brows go up a little bit. "Yes I have been and I have no regrets and no intentions of stopping now."

The fact Ichigo wants to go shopping with him at all is a little surprising, but not because he seriously thinks Ichigo judges his fashion sense. Just more the spending time together thing. It's been startling easy to fall into a comfortable companionship again. And sure, they're side stepping and ignoring some really big things, but the company is still easy. "I knew that. You're just being a shit." He's not great at tolerating that.

His attention corners when he feels like Ichigo's looking at him. He shrugs a noncommittal shoulder. "I get it. This isn't the best place to be right now anyway." It's too hard to defend, too hard to properly monitor and barricade. He's not dumb. "Do you actually want me going on that job?" He made a bit of a fuss about it, but he doesn't need invited out of pity. He can entertain himself. He's just scared that if they part now, it'll be the last time they see each other. He shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't. Why do you seem like you're trying to push for that? I would'a said that's what I wanted if that's what I wanted. I have no trouble speakin' my mind."

For a second, while he watches Ichigo look over his car, he wonders what they'll do if it's rigged. Call in Ichigo's team, he supposes. But Ichigo slides out from under the SUV and gives him the go ahead. He turns to a lockbox on the wall and punches in a code, then pulls the keys off a hook and closes the box again. He uses the remove to unlock it as he walks toward the vehicle.

[cottonlemonade]

I have this headcanon of the Miya grandparents owning a candy store and oftentimes after school or over the holidays the twins would be employed to help out. During those times the shops would fill with a lot more girls, all of which were suddenly volunteering to babysit their siblings or neighbor kids just so that they had a valid excuse for standing in the shop behind the large glass wall, gawking at the two boys in their late teens, effortlessly pulling the candy on the wall mounted hook. Both twins had a few minor burn marks on their forearms from bumping into equipment when they didn’t pay attention but at this point, they were both so used to handling the heat, that they didn’t feel it anymore. Osamu helped out for a lot more than simple family obligations. Partly, because it meant that he could keep the ends that he previously formed to look like a duck for the small crowd crammed into the warm, sweet-smelling store. But perhaps more importantly, his grandpa left him alone to experiment after hours sometimes after a particularly good day. So the night before graduation he got busy making different kinds of candies - one with a picture of your favorite fruit, one with an animal that could either be a cat or a dog or maybe a hamster (he kinda messed that one up), a heart, of course, and lastly one that read “be mine?”. It would have been nearly impossible to add more words to the tiny candy circle without it becoming unreadable. So the next day he triple-checks that the jar of candy is securely in his bag - in turn, forgetting to pack an essay he was supposed to hand in a week ago - and alongside his brother, he makes his way to school.

Your chubby figure is quickly spotted as you’re walking towards the gate among the large stream of Inarizaki students. You’re laughing with your friend and his heart starts to pump so hard it might burst. He is too impatient now to wait until he can catch you alone, so he calls out your name. And standing amidst students on their way to the first period he wordlessly hands you the jar with the Miya Candy sticker. He can’t even bring himself to say anything because he is holding his breath waiting for your answer.

[heartstringsduet]

Happy Wednesday. Have a snippet of A Few Moons Ago before I have to scurry away. It's a bit wolf/ a/b/o coded so don't reblog if you dont feel it. You can always let me know if you want to be tagged or not <3 Thanks for the tags @thisbuildinghasfeelings

“We can be a lot,” TK amends, though he doubts he can hide the glow of his heart at Carlos admitting to loving his pack family. 

“I had a great time,” Carlos says, scratching the back of his nails on TK’s underarm, while TK retraces lines on Carlos’ scalp. “Remind me though. We think that Pearce is…”

“A douchebag. But I guess he’s our annoying douchebag, so don’t hate him too hard.”

Carlos answers with a hum, then slides his face further up TK’s lap until his nose can nudge up the lower hem of his shirt. “You smelled a bit of him.” 

His lips brush against bared skin of gentle stomach folds. 

“You know best how alphas are,” TK says, breathlessly as Carlos slips his tongue into his navel. “You all have a possessive streak that gets worse the closer we get to full moons. I’m sure I also smelled of Marjan and Judd.”

“You did. But I like them. It’s Pearce I don’t trust with you,” Carlos says against his tummy. His lips are tinged darker when he lifts his head. “He smells weird.”

TK snorts. “Oh my god, yes! Like he applies extra musk every morning after breakfast!” 

Carlos slides up higher tilts his head to bare the side of his neck to TK. “Do I smell better to you?”

TK’s mouth dries as he draws his fingers over Carlos’ pulse point, tracing its rapid beats filling the silent room.

“Your smell makes me hungry,” he says, then licks the same path his fingers took.

Sometimes being closer to the moon days is overwhelming, the smells and sounds clanging around in a body that adjusts, but TK loves the way he can now smell Carlos in every corner of his house again, the potency of it making him want to twists his back over the couch like his wolf yearns to do when faced with luscious grass.

“Pearce is harmless though, in all ways,” TK explains as he kisses down to Carlos’ clavicle. OPEN TAG&

@pameluke @eclectic-sassycoweyes @paperstorm @carlos-in-glasses

@carlos-tk @orchidscript @decafdino @emsprovisions

@sapphic--kiwi @alrightbuckaroo @welcometololaland

@rmd-writes @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry @never-blooms

@ironheartwriter @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74

@fitzherbertssmolder @birdclowns @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@corsage @carlossreaders @chicgeekgirl89 @firstprince-history-huh

@certifiedflower @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @kiwichaeng

@irispurpurea @henrygrass @ameriicansrequiems @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@whatsintheboxmh @everlastingday @nisbanisba @butchreyes

@goodways @nancys-braids @liminalmemories21

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

hello! i was wondering if you could do poly!plastic x reader where regina has a condition like anemia or is simply just sick and won't admit that she's sick or needs help till she eventually collapses. sorry if it's too specific and you absolutely don't have to do it if you fon't wanna! :)

The Date-

|| poly!plastics x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; mostly Regina's pov, mentions of throw up, Regina's sick and hiding it, Gretchen stands up to Regina (though briefly), Regina blacks out, brief swearing

|| Summary; when Regina wakes up, she finds she isn't feeling well. But holds out for the date later that evening.

Requests closed!

Started; November 13th

Finished; November 13th

+ Anon Request; hey can you do poly!plastics x reader where it's regina being sick or anemic (only her gfs know that) but would never admit if she's not feeling well because she has an image to "uphold." sorry if it's too specific! it's all gopd i you can't 😅

Author Note; i wrote her being sick, since that was easier for me to write 🫶

~~~

It wasn't often Regina George got sick. In fact, there was hardly ever a time where she was. Of course she's faked being sick a number of times, just like every other kid. But today she was not feeling great. Like, at all. Every time she took a step Regina felt like she would throw up. Or pass out. Or both.

But did she take the day off? No. Because there were things she genuinely wanted to do at school and after today. She wanted to see her girlfriends and partner. Plus, Regina was looking forward to their date tonight. She booked them reservations at a nice ass restaurant and it would suck to lose their spot. Considering the next wait was nearly two months. She wasn't about to wait forever again. So, Regina tried her hardest to look okay. She may have over done it a bit on the makeup, but Regina hardly cared right now.

Despite feeling sick, Regina still took the time to pick up all of you. You, Gretchen and Karen. None of you noticed the signs at first. Gretchen thought she maybe saw a grimace, or was it a scowl? Sometimes it was hard to tell with the blonde. She did try keeping an eye on her, though it didn't take long before Gretchen was distracted by Karen's lips.

Being at school was probably the worst part of it. She skipped a lot of her classes. Regina ended up spending most of her day in the bathroom, just in case she threw up. Because there was no way she would be listening to a teacher right now. No matter who told her to. She'd come out for lunch, hanging out with you and the girls. Trying to seem okay enough that no one would ask her any questions.

Regina managed to make it all the way until the end of the day. Where everything went wrong. Regina was walking next to you, on her other side was Gretchen and Karen. The four of you walking together. You held Regina's hand, rambling about whatever your latest interest was. And Regina tried to pay attention. She really, really did. But... everything went black.

She could vaguely hear the sounds of voices, though it was like she was separated by water. It was muffled, groggily. All around impossible to understand. When she finally came to, Regina was in the nurse's office at the school. Bucket at her couch side. You were next to her while Gretchen and Karen watched nervously. Hands and arms linked together. She groaned as she tried to sit up, but you put a hand to her chest. Keeping her down.

"No you don't," You murmured. Regina's eyes locked to yours and you could see the pain and nausea behind her eyes.

"What..?" Regina had started to ask what happened, but you answered before she could speak. Wanting her to save her strength. You gently brushed Regina's hair out of her face, hand cupping her cheek before you spoke.

"You passed out. Nurse said you looked feverish," You explained, Regina scoffed and rolled her eyes. Slowly letting herself sink into the couch a bit. Before her eyes widened.

"The date-" Regina said, once gain thinking about the reservations. You just smiled softly and shook your head. Looking to Gretchen.

"Absolutely not, those reservations aren't as important as your health." Gretchen put her foot down; which was rare for her to do. Especially to Regina. Though Gretchen's worry for her out weighed any fears.

"There were reservations?" Karen blinked, looking at Gretchen. She forgot all about it. Gretchen just sighed.

"Not for tonight." Her tone held a sense of firmness to it that sounded weird coming from Gretchen. Regina challenged her, knowing it usually didn't take much to sway the girl.

"Excuse me? We're going, I paid a shit tone for those spots. Besides, I'm literally fine. You're overreacting." Regina grumbled. Trying to keep hold of her image. She had to be fine.

You frowned at her, deciding to take over when you saw Gretchen tense up," we'll get a refund, baby. Go another time. But like Gretchen said, those reservations aren't as important as your health."

Regina did not look happy in the slightest. But she finally stopped fighting on it, mostly because she threw up in the trash can. And she was smart enough to know there would be no convincing after that.

[bibliophilesince2003]

The Bad Batch

Here's a little theory for you to mull over; I sincerely wonder whether I am alone in thinking this. I could also be heavily exhausted over and influenced by the papers I had to polish off for some of my college courses, or perhaps motivated by the fact that I am re-watching The Bad Batch because most modern shows these days, in my opinion, disappoint. At any rate, here it is.

Why do we like the Bad Batch so much? What makes them relatable and/or realistic?

Upon meeting Omega, most of the Bad Batch behave in a very dad-like manner. This is not surprising, no. Plenty of memes and incorrect quotes have stemmed from this simple observation. They don't have all the answers and they don't know what to do with Omega half the time. That's the thing about dads... usually, they're just "winging it" and trying to do their best. Moms come with a built-in instinct to nurture. Dads come with a built-in instinct to protect and lead. Sometimes, dads aren't quite sure what to do with a crying infant or a struggling teenager.

Let's not forget... Hunter and the others are soldiers. That isn't to say they can't be kind or gentle; even the toughest men have their weak points. As a military brat, though, I have noticed that such a profession can mold a man, and at times they forget to "turn off" their seriousness when at home after having dealt with extremely hard situations. I really appreciate that the producers of this show didn't change Hunter and the others just to make them more approachable from Omega's standpoint. If they do change, it's gradual.

Do Hunter and the others think about the consequences of bringing Omega into their lives? *eyeballs toothpick man* With exceptions, of course. Well, until season three. The answer? Absolutely not. They believe they have the strength and ability to keep her safe, as most dads would. They believe they will always have that strength and ability. Let me break it down for you and give you a look into the brain of a dad:

Dad: *involved in a dangerous situation*

Dad: I can do that.

Dad: *remembers their child is with them*

Dad: Oh. Well, I guess becomes a life lesson. I've got you, kid. Just... don't tell your mom.

Dad: *keeps an eye out for anything suspicious*

Kid: *perfectly content*

I've heard it said that dads don't say "I love you" but show they love you. I personally have experienced both, but given the seriousness of most dads... I can see how that would be the case. At the very least, their actions speak louder than words. The Bad Batch are very much this way towards Omega. They put their lives on the line. They want to make her happy. Wrecker assembles a spot for Omega to call her own on the Marauder. Tech grabs her before an explosion can reach them. Echo has hugged Omega the most. Hunter is usually within three feet of Omega at all times.

The subtle gestures of kindness captivated all our hearts, I know.

Why?

It's Star Wars, a fictional universe. It's not complete fiction, though. Hunter and the others represent a specific kind of love. Fathers may be cautious and unsure at first, but eventually they want the kid by their side for everything. We've all seen the videos of dads using infants as pretend machine guns or making them dance, the kid's neck rolling lazily. Gently, of course. If they can't protect the kid from everything, they use themselves as a shield, which extends to good mothers, too, though that's not what this post is about.

Hunter and the others may be soldiers, but they embody the very spirit of fatherhood. This was such a wonderful theme to see develop despite the grittiness and action.

Phew, I feel like there was more I wanted to say, but I'm tired, so you're spared from more rambling.

[sunnie-angel]

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 2: Pretty Woman

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: reader convinces her girlfriend jay to dress up tags: teasing, sexual tension, groping, cunnilingus, thigh riding rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k a/n: honestly just an excuse to put jay in cheetah print

Your girlfriend in her steel toed boots, rotating closet of identical tank tops, worn in jeans, and leather jacket is hot. Capital H O T hot. You are absolutely not complaining about the way she dresses, especially when she’s looking at you like you’re something particularly tasty. No, it’s just – she makes you feel so pretty, that’s all. She makes you feel dainty, delicate in her hands, the belle of the ball on the arm of the most handsome woman there. You love the way she makes you feel, you love the way she lets you do her hair sometimes, and you just want to make her feel happy.

So it’s with that in mind that you start planning. Slowly start adding images to your pinterest board, start looking up hair and makeup tutorials. Flag certain items in your online shopping cart for when they go on sale, just so there’s no fuss when the items do turn up in your closet. Primp and practice, collect and wait until just the right moment. For the right mood to strike. And when it does, you’re ready.

You’re curled up on the couch, head resting on Jay’s stomach as you watch old reruns of Dynasty on the tv. She’s got a hand resting on the side of your face, fingers stroking softly as the lights from the screen flicker across your face.

“D’you think they’re pretty?” You ask her, not looking up from your comfy position.

“Who, the actresses?” Her fingers still on your face as you move your head to nod. “I guess, though their fashion’s pretty dated.”

“Yeah but don’t they look so gorgeous and confident though?” You continue to prod. “Big hair, bigger attitude.”

“O-kay,” she drawls, clearly just humouring you but it’s an opening.

“Doesn’t that remind you of anyone?” You tease, starting to push yourself into a seated position.

“What, you don’t mean me?” She squints at you like if she looks hard enough she can see the exact shape of the head damage that put you in this mood.

“Uhuh,” you nod, eyes bright and enthusiastic. “ A little bit of primping, a dab of red lipstick.”

“And then what?” Jay asks. “You turn me into some tv villain sleeping with her ex-husband’s mortal enemy?”

“Um,” you stutter, suddenly shy. “More like the morally grey lesbian that seduces her daughter?”

Jay grins because now she’s got the gist of your plan unfurling into the palm of her hand.

“Yeah?” She teases. “You want me to seduce you?”

You nod, vigorously.

“Okay fine, turn me into your soap opera lesbian then.”

You squeal and grab her hand, drag her off the couch and ignore her rolling eyes at your excitement. Push her down into the vanity seat as gently as you can while dashing around to grab things from their hiding places. Jay looks at you in the mirror as you start to backcomb her hair.

“Is this you preparing for the outcome you wanted again?” She asks suspiciously like she already knows the answer.

“Might have been,” you say, already nearly done with shaping her hair.

A fog of hairspray brings it all together, Jay coughing and swatting at your ass to leave off. Grinning, you spin her around in the chair and start on the makeup. End up sitting on her lap, legs splayed, as you swipe bold oranges and gold across her eyelids, too engrossed in your work to notice the way she’s palming at your ass. A careful hand applies a crisp line of red lipstick to her pout. Grabbing a tissue, you hold it up to her mouth and tell her to “Bite gently.”

She does, eyes never leaving yours with a hunger in them that’s not quite appropriate for prime time television. With a careful finger under her chin, you turn Jay’s head side to side to make sure you haven’t left any spidery mascara marks or fallen glitter. Satisfied with your handiwork, you push off her lap, only suddenly just realizing how far up your skirt had ridden.

“There’s an outfit laid out in the closet,” you tell her, hands fidgeting with your skirt hem. “You don’t– you don’t have to wear all of it if you don’t want to, but um, I’d really like it if you did. I’ll just um, just wait here for the grand reveal then?”

Sighing the heavy burden of the long suffering, Jay walks to the closet, trailing a lone finger down your shoulder as she brushes past. Inside just as you said is an outfit, or, what should be an outfit only there is barely enough fabric to qualify as such. Grumbling she throws her clothes in the laundry basket and starts inspecting what you’ve gifted her.

“Hey these underwear are missing half the fabric,” she calls out to you, holding out the glorified strings of cheetah print, trying to figure out which bit is supposed to actually cover her.

“Thongs just always look like that!” You call back.

“Well I hope you didn’t pay very much for them,” she continues to grumble, finally figuring out how to slide them over her hips without turning them into a garotte.

Pulls the high cut of the waistband up over her hip bones and admires the way they make her look curvy. The bra – the bra almost makes her laugh out loud. That same loud cheetah print only stuffed to the gills with padding. It’s probably 80% padding and the balconette cut means there’s basically no cup for her actual boobs. A very far, far cry from her usual sports bras, but she’ll bite. Has to adjust and play around with it to stop her nipples from wanting to spill out but she’ll admit her tits look good. She will be asking you later about why you had a lingerie set in her size just lying around though. A tight, tight pencil skirt that has her jumping and shimmying to get on goes on next, the stretch of the fabric smoothing out the harsh lines of her. A thin, see through button down is all that’s left. With a snort she simply knots it, already knowing that the hassle of the tiny buttons won’t be worth it. Not with how she plans the rest of the night to go.

Taking a breath, she allows herself a moment to just look at herself in the long mirror. Twists to admire what the skirt does for her ass, the line of her legs. She looks... powerful. The kind of beauty that crushes lesser beings underfoot with casual cruelty, sharp edges tempered by the fullness of curves Jay was never sure she’d really have. Wild. Her muscles make her look dangerous and wickedly feminine, red lips curling up at the corners at her thick thighs test the limits of the skirt seams. The way the shirt clings for dear life across her shoulders, make her an hourglass figure to kill for. Oh you knew what you were doing, dropping hints about seduction, but Jay’s gonna make you regret not being honest about it.

With a swish to her hips that is enchantingly new, Jay walks back into the bedroom. She savours the instantly glassy look in your eyes. The sweet little parting between your lips and the harsh bob of your throat as you swallow. Walks right up to where you sit on the bed and uses her height to loom over you. Your legs part automatically and she slots herself between them like she belongs there. She ghosts the back of her hand down the side of your face and you close your eyes and shudder.

“Like what you see, sweet thing?” She teases. You nod blindly and press your face into her hand. “Such a good girl, getting everything ready for me like this.” You sigh as her fingers card into your hair, cups the back of your head. “There’s just one teeny, tiny, little problem.” Your eyes fly open, brows creasing with confusion. With one hand Jay pulls on the knot keeping her shirt closed, exposes her breasts to the cold air of your bedroom. “My tits are sore from this teeny, tiny, little bra. You’re going to put that conniving little mouth to work and make them feel better.”

The hand cradling your head turns to iron, guides your face to her chest and plants it right in her cleavage. It takes a few slow seconds to realize what’s expected and Jay’s fingers tightening in your hair before you start to move. Quickly you begin to mouth at the warm flesh of her tits, laving your tongue over their heavy weight, kissing and sucking little red marks into them. Use your empty hands to massage them, squeeze at them the way you’ve been to ever since she walked out and tied your tongue into knots. Carefully free one breast from its confines and latch onto her dark nipple. Tease at it with your teeth until you can feel her panting. Your hips start undulating, desperate for friction at your throbbing core. The wet core of your panties brushes against her leg and the iron grip on your head pulls your off of her breast with a wet sounding pop. 

“I generously let you play with my tits but you just had to get greedy, huh?” She taunts. Steps back and has you moaning at the loss of her. “Thought your gluttonous little cunt deserved more.” With a broad hand she smacks between your legs, has you writhing and whimpering only held up by the hand still in your hair. With disgust she throws you back onto the bed and crawls up your body. Shimmies the tight skirt up around her hips, just the thin string of her thong keeping her covered. “I’m going to ride your lying little tongue,” she tells you with a cold kind of disdain. “Your hands are going to stay on my ass the entire time and if you’re good and make me come, maybe I’ll let you grind on my abs after.” 

Your keen gets cut off by Jay seating herself over your face, hands scrabbling to grab onto her plush ass. You tongue aside the wet fabric of her thong and start sucking. Seal your lips around her hole and grind your nose into her clit. Use your hands to encourage her to use you. Tongue at her entrance until she starts swearing, knuckles white around the head board. Slick coats your mouth and chin. Stiffening your tongue, you start to thrust inside of her and she grinds down on you. Throws her head back and arches her back in a way that pushes her breasts out. Entranced, you lap at her cunt reflexively as she starts riding your face in earnest, tits bouncing rhythmically. You throb between your legs, hips meeting nothing but air as you squirm beneath her.

Urging her on, you start to tongue fuck her in earnest, desperate to make her come in your mouth. Jay takes one look at your wide glassy eyes and grins wickedly, instantly understanding what part of the show has all your attention. Reaching behind her, she unclasps the bra and shrugs it off, lets her tits fall heavy. Arches her back artificially and starts to feel herself up. Moans as she tweaks and pinches at her own nipples, hips grinding faster against your tongue. She comes just as you start to give up hope of being good for her, thighs clenching around your ears and slick dripping into your throat, slow fire lighting up her veins.

With a heavy sigh she rolls off of you, sits next to your head as she fixes her skirt. Carefully you keep your hands to yourself as your roll onto your elbows to look up at her. Very intentionally you don’t grind your aching core into the mattress. Jay strokes her thumb over your cheekbone, then uses her hand to tilt your chin up, admiring the way your face glistens in the light.

“My, my baby girl’s a messy eater,” she chides, your face flushing warm. “M’gonna have to teach you better manners.” She tuts.

“Was I–” you clear your throat “Was I good though?”

“Yeah baby, you can have your reward,” she says affectionately. Scrabbling on the bed you straddle her, almost crying out in relief at finally having something to rub up against. “You’re gonna have to do all the work though,” she tells you, warm hands coming up to steady your hips.

You groan and start grinding, her hands guiding you. Strung tight already and achingly turned on, you know its not gonna take much. Your panties are disgustingly wet, soaked through and practically dripping. Frantic, grind as fast as you can, plant your hands on her chest and bear down on her taut stomach. Your thighs already burn and you whine in frustration, pleasure not building fast enough in your gut to satisfy you. Jay reaches up a hand and cups your breast through your t-shirt. Brushes a thumb over a sensitive nipple and you’re crying out as you come on her stomach, legs shaking and cunt quivering.

Exhausted, you slump over on her chest, face buried in her neck. She pets a hand over your hair and coos as you shake against her warm skin.

“There she is, there’s my good baby girl.” You sigh and try to wriggle closer at the praise. “See what being patient gets you? Now come on baby,” she says, rolling you onto your back on the middle of the bed. “Let’s get these sticky panties off. I want to see whose lips this lipstick looks better on.”

series masterlist | part 1 | part 3

[dollbon]

Imagine🪽

ʚRafe cameron x readerɞ

You woke up feeling two arms next to your head, your eyes blinking as they tried to adjust to the daylight that entered the room. You knew very well who was holding you like that and lying next to you. It was Rafe.

You grunted trying to move to get up but without success, and then you heard a hoarse voice near your ear.

"Stop moving."

Rafe grunted and held you a little tighter.You grunted again and tried to move once more.

"Rafe, let me go."

You tried to protest but it didn't work very well.

"No, now stay still and stop moving."

Rafe said squeezing a little tighter.

You sighed and grunted loudly but you didn't have much of a choice but to stop moving and stay still, and then you had an idea. Reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand next to your bed, you opened the camera and snapped a picture of you and Rafe.

You giggled mischievously and then saved the picture.

"Didn't I tell you to be quiet? And I deleted those pictures."

Rafe mumbled into your hair.

"Ugh, you're such a boring boyfriend."

You groaned and rolled your eyes.Before you could do anything else, you felt Rafe's arms wrap around your waist and then you landed back on the mattress, this time with Rafe hovering over you and supporting himself on your arms.

Rafe raised an eyebrow and then stared at your flushed face as your curly hair spread across the mattress.

"What did you say?"

He asked in an almost eerily calm tone. "That you're a boring boyfriend-"

You were interrupted by Rafe who started tickling you, you laughed and squirmed as you tried to push him away, but he didn't move a muscle.

When Rafe stopped, he looked at you with the same calm look as before and then said:

"What did you say again?"

"That you're a very boring boyfriend!-"

You were interrupted again by another round of tickling from Rafe.

"Again, what did you say? Oh, and remember to give the right answer now."

He warned and then stared into your almond eyes. "You're a great boyfriend!"

You said breathlessly as you tried to recover from the tickling.

"I hate you!"

You told him but there was no hate behind your words, you were just being yourself.

"Oh sure, you're tolerable too."

Rafe said before getting up and starting to go to the bathroom. You quickly sat up in bed, watching him.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

You quickly got up and walked over to him, clinging to one of his legs.

"I want to go too!"

You said, looking at him with your Bambi eyes.

Rafe just rolled his eyes, already used to your charm.

"Seriously, sometimes you're like a clingy koala."

He said, trying to move with you stuck to his leg.

"It's kind of hard to walk when you're stuck to me, you know?"

He said, looking at you, but you didn't care and just squeezed him a little tighter.Rafe looked back at you and then finally reached the bathroom. He grabbed you and placed you on the sink counter, then grabbed your toothbrushes and put the toothpaste in them, handing yours to you while he put his in his mouth.

You brushed your teeth and rinsed your mouth, then looked at Rafe again with your Bambi eyes, he knew exactly what you wanted. Rafe rolls his eyes and gives you a peck on the lips, looking at the huge smile that appears on your face after that. He helps you down and the two of you start going downstairs to get some coffee.

"What's the point of brushing our teeth before breakfast if we're going to get them dirty while we eat?"

You ask another one of your random questions.

"And why do you ask so many questions, huh? You sound like a child."

Rafe said knowing that he would get an exaggerated reaction from you.

"Aaah! You're rude! You broke my heart now!"

You said putting the back of your hand on your forehead and throwing yourself on the floor dramatically.

Rafe let out a small smile and then had an idea, he grabbed your ankles and started dragging you to the kitchen with him while you laughed and screamed.

The end, I hope you enjoyed it! 🐇

[goingmerryfics]

HELLO, I was seeing that you were open to requests and I've had this in my head for a long time and I would really like to see something about this, a reader who has a huge scar on his face that is literally ugly, they got it as a child, apart from the fact that it shows part of the teeth of how serious it was and for this reason the reader wears a mask for fear of being told things about them face, I'm sorry if it's something explicit just that sometimes I feel like I don't explain myself

Reader with a scar - Luffy & Penguin

Content: reader is referred to as a ‘guy’ and a ‘dude’, reader wears a face mask, can be read as platonic, face scarring due to a past accident not specified, fluff and reassurance, a few mentions of Shachi in Penguin's part.

Notes* Hey there! There wasn't a character specified for this ask, so I chose two that I'm less experienced with to write out this prompt with :) male reader because of the pronouns used in the ask! I got really interested in this prompt right away and wrote it immediately upon receiving the ask and absolutely had to post it now so I apologize if the formatting is wonky! I'm on mobile haha

Luffy

When you first met Strawhat Luffy, it was while he was stopped at your home island along his grand adventure

You'd never really paid much attention to pirates and their lives- you had your own to live and figure out anyway

But as you and Luffy became closer- first as acquaintances, then as temporary allies, and then as friends as he boldly declared it in a short amount of time, you started to really like the guy

He'd only asked you about the mask you wore once. But the second you tried to answer him, he was distracted by dinner. After that, it was if he'd forgotten all about his question

It was kind of nice that way, not needing to worry about constant pestering or comments about it

Luffy truly didn't give a shit what you wore on your face at all. He cared about you (and your food, of course)

Luffy had a way of making you feel as if you could trust him to see your face. What you've kept hidden for most of your life, after a terrible accident had, in your opinion, ruined your life

But Luffy's care for you was unlike anything you've ever felt before. Luffy made you feel safe, protected, and just a little anxious at how willing he was to throw himself in harm's way to help you, the appointed new friend

One evening, you decide that you do in fact want to talk to him about your past. It's a decision you've been thinking over for a while, but actually getting up and moving to Luffy's room is such a sudden action, and then you're suddenly seeking him out in the dead of night on his ship to tell him about your scar.

The Thousand Sunny was still docked peacefully at the edge of the south side of your island, where you had originally met them what felt like so long ago. In reality, it had only been about a week since the Strawhats arrived, and yet it felt like so much longer in the chaos.

Their gangplank was pulled up, but before you could start trying to climb the ship's side, you spot Luffy out on the deck- evident by the straw hat on his head.

You call out his name, and he turns right away. With a grin quickly spreading on his face, he hops off the sunny and onto the grassy island floor. He calls your name happily.

“What are you doing over here? Is something wrong?” He asks.

You tell him it's not that, and he picks up on your unease.

“Well, what is it? It's hard to tell but you look like something's bothering you. Are you hungry?”

You shake your head, and you begin to explain. You tell him about your accident, about how your face was scarred and disfigured. You tell him about your upbringing, how hard it was to fit in with the other kids while you looked like that.

You can feel yourself getting emotional. Luffy can hear it in your voice, too. He calls your name in a stern tone- one he only seems to use when he gets serious.

“Listen, I don't care about all that crap.” He speaks. And though his words are blunt, you know he means them in the best way.

“I like you. You're a really nice guy, and you fight really well. So what else matters? You think I care if you've got a scar on your face?”

He stares at you, and you feel it in the center of your chest.

“You should feel free to do whatever you want! If you want to wear your mask then that's fine. But if you don't, then take it off! And if people don't like it, that's their problem! If they don't want to get to know you because of what your face looks like, then they're the ones that are missing out!”

You can feel tears in your eyes. There's something about the way Luffy says- no, declares it so passionately that leaves no doubt in your mind of his pure fondness for you.

Through your tears, you can see Luffy's smile, and your heart soars.

Penguin

You'd been a Heart Pirate for a short amount of time, but somehow you had made quick friends with many people on the Polar Tang- one of them being the man who called himself, ‘Penguin’ with the hat to prove it

There was something about him that was so easy to click with. Maybe it was your shared sense of humor, or the fact that you found it hilarious watching him and his partner in crime Shachi get into trouble for pulling pranks around your Captain (for the millionth time)

You weren't the only person on the crew who wore a full face mask, either. So while he was curious and questioned it in the beginning, one word from you to leave it alone and he backed off. Surprisingly.

Still, you definitely caught him eyeing you at times. The urge to pull the mask off your face to see what you were hiding was strong in him, but you two were friends and he wouldn't do that to you

One evening, Shachi had been pressing you just a little too much about the matter and he'd said, “What, are you ugly or something under there?”

Which earned a swift smack to the back of his head from Penguin, chastising him for saying something that insensitive

He'd noticed the way your teeth clenched, how tense you got. It had obviously hit home, and he made Shachi apologize for his rude joke right then and there

After that though, he found himself wondering why. Why did you think you were ugly? What were you hiding? Did you actually have a reason to be insecure, or was it something more?

He cared about you. He didn't want you to feel like you couldn't be yourself around them- the Heart Pirates were your family now, and a proper family didn't hurt each other for something so miniscule.

You had gotten over the comment, but Penguin had already begun his mission.

It was late into the evening. The chores were done for the day, and Penguin wanted to catch you before you went to bed. He wasn't really sure what he was gonna do or say, but he knew he wanted to address it before the worry drove him to insomnia.

He searches the halls for you and eventually finds you in the common room. He calls your name cheerfully, thankful that you're alone here- at least for the time being.

You greet Penguin, looking up from what you'd been doing. He takes a seat nearby and starts to make idle chatter, asking you about your day, telling you a bit of gossip, smiling when he gets you to laugh.

Then he clears his throat and switches gears, moving on to the conversation he really came here for.

“So, uh… There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You watch him fidget for a minute. He's not good with feelings at all, and he's trying to figure out how to bring this up without accidentally offending you. Eventually, he finds the words.

“So… About what Shachi said a while back. I was kinda worried about it.”

You quickly assure him that it was fine, that Shachi apologized and he only meant it as an, albeit bad, joke.

“Yeah, but… I don't know. It looked like it really bothered you. I hope you don't think that, like, we would think you're ugly or something! Whatever you look like under there, you're still the same cool dude we know. Nothing would change that. I guess I just wanted to say that.” Penguin shrugs.

You're not sure what to say to that. Your initial reaction is bitter- to insist that actually they would think you're ugly if they could see your face. But something stops you, and you get stuck just choking on your words.

“Look, I'm just saying, it bothers me to think that you don't like the way you look. I'm not saying you have to show me your face or anything, but just… If you choose to take your mask off one day, I hope you know that we'd love you all the same. You'll always be our family, no matter what you look like.”

You nod, because it's all you can bring yourself to do in the moment. It's nice, hearing that reassurance.

Penguin quickly changes the subject to try and dissipate the tension in the room made by the serious conversation, going on about something stupid Shachi had done that got him into some shit with the Captain earlier, which makes you laugh.

His words stick to your heart -You'll always be our family, no matter what you look like- and you know that when you do decide to show yourself to them, that you'll be alright.

[coffeegnomee]

ugh sometimes watching Kab pov I get real sympathetic for how difficult it must be to be in her brain and just be so confused all the time and exhausted about masking her feelings to make other people trust her and her pain in wanting to be vulnerable and receive vulnerability and feel deep reciprocal love.

But then she says shit, really fucking mean and toxic shit towards mental health and healing and it triggers my own fight or flight and i become a ball of rage.

And like, I do get it. When you start your journey of mental health healing you often become the toxic one as you throw the shit people have said to you at everyone who also has similar mental health issues as you. (been there done that) Doing it to process your own rage at being told these things, or thinking, out of desperation, that if you can just get them to fix themselves quickly, you can fix yourself quickly. The bullied becomes the bully.

But then time passes and you realize this shit is hard to overcome. (or maybe it won't ever be overcome! and that's okay!) And you stop being toxic and you start being compassionate, to yourself and others. And eventually you start to heal and become confident in your own self worth and the validity of your emotions.

But before then it's the fucking worst place to watch someone be in. And that place is unfortunately where we are right now.

below is a short transcript of the convo this reflection is based off of. it can be triggering so like, don't feel obliged to read it.

11/10/24 kab vod: "I have no idea what's happening"

1:42:00 KAB: “what about how he makes me feel? Why is it so important what he feels and to accommodate everything he’s feeling? Why do i have to conceded to that???”

1:44:00 “I’m sick of having to accommodate to everyone else’s actions” 

realizing your masking is hurting you is one of the worst realizations (imo). bc the mask keeps you safe, but if you can't process or give worth to your real emotions, it's not serving you.

so she swaps from processing her own feeling to being angry at zam.

1:47:00 She gets he needs time and space, but “We don't have time for to try and sit and process your emotions properly. Do it after we deal with this fucking issue [...] sometimes you just need to toughen up” 

Fucking hell the trigger i just felt for just toughen up. 

1:48:00 “i need to know what he’s thinking so that we can work together. In a team!” 

what team!?!

“‘Does zam really hate communication more than he likes spawn and the server’ literally. Like pick your priorities dude.”

I’m going to fucking throw up. Because yes. Actually yes. Unfortunately and actually yes. He's gotten a lot better but like.

1:53:00 “I dunno. I wish he would care about himself as much as i care about him. Hard to see him like this [pause] maybe he does need more nurturing than i can give him bro ugh. I am just not- i am not good at that shit. I think it’s stupid [..] when you have a job to do [..] just shove your emotions away for a bit. And then you can process them later” 

I was going to say this is just eclipse, but I just realized that maybe it's just this is exactly the perception Zam had of Vi: that Vi just wanted him to move on when he couldn't. All his deepest fears of what Vi wanted from him are being personified into a new person. 

(also he is shoving his emotions away and that's why he's not processing it and giving you an answer for why he "doesn't know"????? but since he's not a perfect ball of joy and masking to you and because he is doing what you can't (shove emotions away) you are in rage)

1:54:00  “But it’s like, while there’s a life or death situation that literally determines the entire server we don't have time to be like, holding your hand, you know? Like, you're an adult” ughh fuck. being broken is inconvenient for others and age is seen as an invalidation to any of your real brokenness. If you're old you no longer have the right to be broken. Can we please change this narrative? thx

“If he cared enough he would actively try and do something to help himself in this situation” 

Interesting choice of words to say "he would try to help himself if he cared" complaining about others not "working" on themselves (and you can never know if someone is working on themselves bc you're not in their brain) helps nobody bc you can only control yourself.

“You just want to sit and feel bad about yourself” no that's what you're doing kab

“He got me to fucking open up to him and pour my heart out and is now turning his back on that entirely. That’s what i’m actually more upset about” 

oh the naive belief that because you pour your heart out to someone they must reciprocate. That is the risk you take when you are honest with someone about your feelings. They are at no obligation to reciprocate ever. Never ever. But that doesn't mean your feelings aren't true and it doesn't mean you shouldn't have done it. Love is a risk.

But also she feels she was forced into it. Forced to be vulnerable and she hates the vulnerability. She doesn't remember (or believe) that Zam promised to not use it against her. She isn't willing to give him the chance to not use it against her. He simply knows and that is a threat.

So love turns into spite. Instantly. And she doesn't want to talk to him anymore. And decides that she will just be fake to him.

oh girl. keeping the mask on doesn't help anything. 

“I’ve lost a lot of respect for him today. I’m done trying to impress him”

and so the mask returns. and healing stops.

[thrashkink-coven]

So i want to start my practice but unfortunately i don't have the tool incense tarot card pendulum and especially i still lived with my parent. The deity i want to work with is a demon from ars goetia andromalius, i already did the ritual but i Haven't got any respond what should i do?

I received this ask in June so you’ve probably already figured this out but keep on tryin!

If you don’t have access to tools like a pendulum or tarot cards you do still have the option to do some good old meditation on your demon’s sigil. In fact you’ll probably be doing this way more than using cards or other tools. All you need is a pen and a piece of paper. On the front you should write your demon’s sigil. Bonus points if you can find a coloured piece of paper or pen that you associate with them. For Leviathan I would probably use blue, whereas I’d probably use red for Asmoday and green for Belial.

On the back of the paper write a short petition or prayer. Be sure to address yourself by name (doesn’t have to be your legal name, just the name that you identify most with). Detail what exactly it is that you want from them and be precise about how you want them to manifest. If you hope to see them in your dreams write that down. If you just want some mundane sign that they’re listening write that down too.

For example: “To the Great Lord Lucifer, keeper of the hidden gnosis and liberator of all, I Shi, your loyal devotee, invoke your presence and healing light. I request that you appear to me in my dreams, in perfect human form. I wish to see your face and feel your warmth upon me. I wait patiently here, in this, your temple (referring to the altar) for your messages to touch my heart. So it shall be, as it has been, and shall be again.”

For first introductions it’s always a good idea to bring offerings. Something as simple as clean water is fine if you don’t have access to incense. A piece of fruit, a yummy pastry, or a piece of candy works too. Some demons are more particular than others, but they almost all unanimously appreciate alcohol. If you don’t have access to wine or rum, white vinegar also works.

Now, you can anoint the sigil with blood. I usually only do this for my patron who I trust and feel safe offering dna to. Some rituals will insist that you anoint all your sigils with blood but it’s not mandatory in my experience. A simple kiss can work, as can just charging the sigil in your hands. Focus all of your intention into the sigil until it almost seems to vibrate with energy. Then, when you feel ready, you can begin chanting their enn if they have one. If not, you can come up with your own mantra. For example, I wasn’t sure what invocation to use with Hermes, so I always just repeat “Holy Hermes, Holy Hermes, guide my spell.”

As you chant, focus your entire attention towards every syllable coming out of your mouth, feel your vocal cords vibrate as your intention becomes sound. I like to say Lucifer’s enn deep in my chest.

As you do, continue to stare at the sigil. There is a good chance you’ll experience some kind of imagery or physical sensation. If you see a terrifying face or a graphic image, do not freak out, this is very normal. Not all demons are pretty lol. You may altogether have an idea or voice enter into your mind out of seemingly nowhere, that is likely your demon responding. You can respond to them aloud or in your head. Try to stay focused on the sigil as you do, don’t think too hard about your answers.

As an added step you can attempt to do automatic writing. This is when you allow a demon to take control of the muscles in your hand to create a drawing or sentence on a piece of paper. Whilst holding the pencil, completely relax and continue to focus on your demon’s sigil. Don’t resist the subtle movements that occur involuntarily. Sometimes this can result in amazing communication and sometimes it results in a bunch of gibberish. It’s worth a shot but don’t be dismayed if it doesn’t work the first few times.

If you don’t see or feel anything, that’s okay, these things don’t always manifest right away. Do not beg your demon to show up. They find it very annoying. Continue the ritual for a few days until you get a sign. Pay very close attention to the subtle details in your life.

You should probably recreate the sigil every time you reach out rather than using the same one from last session. You’re also perfectly okay to destroy the sigil either by burning or just throwing it in the garbage. Be sure to say goodbye and close down the connection before you destroy the sigil. If you do get a solid communication, remember to say thank you.

[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.