#sorry if you've already been tagged in this!

[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.

[retiredteabag]

I'm super flattered that I'm getting tagged in these things, thank you @lemonlimecrystal-blog, I love learning about people :]

favorite color(s): green, blue, and dark red !

favorite flavor(s): umami (but I do tend to like sweet and savory flavors equally)

favorite genre(s): although I typically write romance, it is actually my least read genre in everyday life, I loved sci-fi and fantasy as a child (ie. Tolkien/Heinlein) but more recently have loved speculative/historical fiction. I haven't read much gothic fiction but every book in that genre I have read I quite liked + any good short story !

favorite music: jazz, folk, indie/indie pop, but I will always have room in my heart for classical...

favorite movie(s): life is beautiful (1997), the princess bride (1987), pride and prejudice (BBC's version as well as the 2005 remake), little women (1994 and 2019) and several others …

favorite series: I didn't grow up watching television, but I do remember liking Anne With An E !

last song: dreams - 2004 remaster by fleetwood mac lol

last movie: I think it might have been white chicks actually -_-

currently reading: I who have never known men - Jacqueline Harpman

currently watching: I don't really watch tv but I did just watch over the garden wall

currently working on: arranged marriage Nanami pt. 3, chapter 2 of my angsty Satoru series, + I am also outlining a dramione fic rn which I know is crazy and maybe even a oneshot for Bakugou? Oh, and of course the conclusion of dog-sitter toji !

Absolutely no pressure and totally non-committal tagging, you have no obligation to do this, and also I'm sorry if you've already been tagged, I wanted to open the floor to some of my lovely mutuals as well as some blogs I love + anyone interested in joining !

@everythingseasoning, @enchi-ladass, @makuzume, @satoruxx, @tearzintheclub, @textmel8r, @aakeysmash, @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat, and of course, @thatdesklamp

Ask & Answered!

tagged by @toastdarling 🌸 thank you!

◈   TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

favourite colour(s): every shade of blue

favourite flavour(s): cinnamon, cherry, teriyaki

favourite genre(s): fantasy, magical realism, mystery

favourite music: honestly I'll listen to pretty much anything, from hard rock to classical music, but I have a special preference for 80s hits and Japanese indie

favourite movie(s): Pride and Prejudice (2005), Howl's Moving Castle, Shrek 2

favourite series: Good Omens, One Piece, Haikyuu!!, Gravity Falls

last song: Your body is a weapon by The Wombats

last movie: Glass Onion

currently reading: The house in the cerulean sea by TJ Klune

currently watching: One Piece, Buddy Daddies

currently working on: in a creative sense, working on a zosan royal au fic, several fanart pieces and a few fantasy au concepts I'm excited about; in a personal sense, working on my insecurities, hoping to improve my lifestyle by trying sports for the first time (kendo, specifically!) and studying for a competitive exam

@goldenandhappy @ftld42 @bryttdaffodil @doremiinas @ats0mi @mafuwara @miyakiyoomii @heart-cores @omiishii

[hoshinasblade]

you are so close to gaslighting yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe you have already told hoshina's mom in the past what your favorite tea is.

the problem with that thought is today was the first time you met the mother of your boyfriend.

you denied it in your head - for all you know, perhaps mrs. hoshina is just really a good at guessing. that, or you are going batshit crazy.

because at that very day, people you have met for the first time - people who may be friends with hoshina soshiro but are practically strangers to you - seem to be aware of small details about you.

captain ashiro complimented you on your blue dress after shaking your hands, saying it's obvious why it is your favorite color, emphasizing how it brings out the intensity of your eyes. even okonogi, who you know works directly with the third division's vice-captain, had a specific joyful aura on her friendly face as she offered to hang out with you in the future, mentioning how she is a fan of true crime documentaries too and suggesting in the same breath that you should try the pudding sold in the headquarter's cafeteria.

you could have let all of that go if only you did not blush like a teenager after hoshina's own older brother called you by your childhood nickname during family dinner.

"i'm sorry." hoshina's hand found yours, his thumb drawing patterns on your wrist. he knows you'd been on edge since morning, and although this is entirely your idea - meeting his friends and his family in one day - he wouldn't blame you if you're overwhelmed.

"they did their research on me or something," you tried to laugh the nerves away. it didn't work.

"ah." hoshina suddenly looked guity. " that. well -" he stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, choosing the right words to say. "i mean, it makes sense that everyone who actually knows me would know about you, really."

you wanted to joke as a response; you wanted to say that he's talkative and tends to yap for hours about stuff he loves so yes, people around him would naturally know things about you. but then you caught yourself because this is yet another confirmation of what hoshina soshiro had been telling you for months now - that you are someone he loves.

you did not know being known could feel this sweet.

"huh. do you reckon i can extort them for information about you next time?" this time it was your turn to grab hoshina's hand, and with your forefinger, you traced three little words on the warm skin of his palm.

[author's note: hello guys, i know i haven't been posting a lot anymore, but i am thankful to everyone who still remembers this blog - yes i can read your asks, yes i see that you've tagged me in a fic, yes i checked my notifications in this blog every now and then. it might take me long to respond most of the time so apologies in advance but please know that i appreciate all interactions from everyone.

also i dont need to remind you but i don't tolerate copy-pasting or reposting any of my works anywhere. i read a lot from here too, and other writers can attest to this as well - we know if a line or a paragraph from any of our works is copied and/or reworded. ]

[joelsgoldrush]

wip wednesday: "lovers once a year" (dbf!joel miller)

hello to you, tiny people on my phone. reaching the end of this semester has thrown me onto a motherfucking rollercoaster. if i even think about the amount of finals i have to sit for, i'm afraid i'll tear up. so here i am, drifting away from real-life responsibilities </3 still working on this dbf!joel fic cause i haven't had much time to write lately, but i'm trying not to be too hard on myself. i really like how it's coming along. i'm close to finishing, though i'm not going to promise a specific posting date because i never seem to manage it LMAO

anyway, thank you to @elflutter @joelsdagger and @ovaryacted for tagging me!!!

No one could’ve ever said Joel was a great best friend. For one, he was terrible at remembering important dates. His mind just didn’t catch hold of details like that—never had, really. He wasn’t the affectionate type, either. At best, he’d manage a pat on the back or a firm handshake, maybe even a call on Christmas if he remembered. Emotional displays weren’t in his nature, far too used to keeping things at arm’s length. Luckily for him, Stephen never seemed to care much about these things. They’d been friends for over forty years—which is, well, a hell of a long time, especially considering each had gone off to carve out his own life. They’d trudged through both primary and secondary school side by side, and Joel felt Stephen’s absence like a hollow ache the day his friend left for university in another state. Technology eventually offered them more ways to connect, but it didn’t make keeping up any simpler. The years had tested them, and somehow, they’d held on to the quiet strength of their friendship—a bond they’d forged across decades and distance, held steady like the roots of an old tree. Stephen was the laid-back type, always down for anything as long as a cold beer was part of the deal. It was rare for him to lose his temper, having a way of letting nuisances slide. Joel could bend every rule, yet Stephen’s patience never wavered. He was unflappable, hardly bothered by Joel’s mood swings, which was what made them a match made in heaven. Nothing seemed to throw him off. Though Joel doubts Stephen would stay so calm if he knew what he’d done to his daughter. As mentioned, Joel’s not exactly what you’d call a good friend—particularly considering he’s slept with his best friend’s daughter. Just once, to be fair. One ephemeral, impulsive encounter. Right here, in this very house, exactly three hundred and sixty-five days ago.

AND

Apart from the glint in your eyes, he catches the persistent, quiet ache of want. He isn’t sure if it’s just physical attraction, if it runs deeper, or if that’s all it is for him, either. He doesn’t need to know. The simplicity of it all is a short-lived relief. It’s an easy escape, though, this bare minimum of understanding—you want him, he wants you. Let it be enough for one more moment, for tonight, just another memory he’ll have to lock away. Yet he’s aware, deep down, of his own pattern: promises broken just as easily as they’re made. He’s only fooling himself. The part of him that knows this isn’t something he’ll let go of so easily sits there, silently taunting him, daring him to make another promise he won’t keep.

tagging: @lubdubology @zloshy @princessanglophile @cavillscurls @guiltyasdave @tightjeansjavi @mrsmando - so sorry if you've already been tagged :( - and anybody else who feels like doing it!

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 34

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 33

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, alcohol use, mentions of smut, mentions of cheating, mentions of drug use, crying, arguing, jealousy, breakup

Word Count: 6.5k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 34: Twilight Zone

Saturday, September 23rd, 1989

"Hurry up, Eds! They're gonna be here in less than an hour! And we still have to get dressed!" You shout to Eddie as you both scramble to get your apartment tidied up before your guests arrive.

"I'm going as fast as I can, angel! I still don't get why we have to clean up the bedroom. It's not like we're having the party in there. Unless it's an extra fun kind of party you didn't tell me about." He jokes, picking up all his dirty clothes from the floor of the bedroom and tossing them in the laundry basket. He fixes the bedspread, putting it just the way you want it to be.

"They might take a peek out of curiosity, Eddie. And if they do, I don't want anyone to think we live like pigs!" You retort, wiping down the coffee table with some lemon Pledge. "Did you get the litter box already?" You call to him from down the hall.

"Yes, Y/N. For the millionth time, yes!" He groans, wiping his palms down his face. You're being particularly anal-retentive tonight, so eager to impress your friends with your new apartment. He'd find it cute if it wasn't so goddamn annoying.

"I'm sorry. I just want everything to be perfect. It's our first time having people over." You say as you get up off the floor and rush to the kitchen and empty the dishwasher. "Can you take the trash out, babe?" You ask, the last thing you need to do before getting dressed.

"You got it, sweetheart. But if this is how it's gonna be any time we have people over, I'm gonna avoid it like the fuckin' plague." He grumbles, pulling the very full bag out of the can to take it to the trash chute.

"We wouldn't be rushing if somebody hadn't kept us in bed all day." You sing-song, putting the blame on him.

"Says the woman who couldn't stop riding my face." Eddie scoffs, heading out the front door for a moment to take the garbage away. You sigh, waiting for him to come back so you can put an end to the bickering. Tonight is supposed to be fun, and relaxing. To spend time with your friends. You finish putting the dishes away, and hear him open the door again, much gentler this time. You smile when you recognize his slow steps, he's coming over to you to apologize. "I'm sorry, babydoll. I know you wanna be a good hostess." Eddie coos, pressing a kiss to your neck as his hands find your hips.

"I'm sorry, too. I don't need to be riding your ass so much. You've been really helpful." You sigh blissfully, more than happy to end this little tiff.

"Mmm, very true. You ride my ass enough as it is." He chuckles darkly, nipping on your throat.

"You know you love it, Eds." You reply, holding back a moan at his teeth worrying your skin into a light bruise. "We'd better get ready, baby. We don't have a lot of time." You say softly, your eyes fallen closed from his insatiable touch.

"I s'pose you're right. I'd hate for our friends to find you bent over this counter while I'm fucking you into next week." He gives you one last little bite, before pulling away entirely. He clears his throat, adjusting himself uncomfortably in his jeans.

"Naughty boy." You giggle impishly, heading down the hallway to change into a cute dress for tonight. Something black, and revealing. A garment that will drive Eddie wild all night, forcing him to keep his hands to himself until everybody leaves.

"You're wearing that?" Eddie asks, pointing at the silk, spaghetti strap dress you're holding on its hanger.

"Mhm. Just for you, baby." You tease, biting your lip.

"Ugh, you're killin' me already, sweetheart. Do you have any idea how hard it's gonna be to behave myself?" He groans, his pants growing tighter at the idea of your sinful body in that little number. The skirt barely goes past your ass, and the front shows off every ounce of cleavage imaginable.

"I’m highly aware of the challenge. I only hope you're up for it." You give him a cheeky wink, turning away to undress.

"What should I wear, princess?" Eddie asks, somewhat distracted by your jeans rolling down your legs, leaving your supple skin exposed.

"Uh, I dunno. A nicer shirt, and jeans with no holes in them at least." You answer, sensing his eyes on you. You take off your shirt, and switch out your current bra for a far more sexy one. You also remove your panties, neglecting to put on a fresh pair altogether. Eddie definitely takes notice while he exchanges his own clothes, smiling to himself with all the little ways he can tease you tonight.

"How do I look?" He asks as you turn around. He looks exactly as you were expecting, wearing a dark blue button-up with rolled sleeves and the top buttons left open to show off his chest a bit. You've seen him dressed this way so many times, but it never, ever gets old. He of course can't be bothered to wear nicer pants, but he at least listened about 'no holes'.

"You look good enough to eat, baby." You say lowly, walking over to him, your hands meeting his chest. You guide his back to the wall, unable to help yourself. You give him a hungry kiss, slipping your hand inside the opening of his shirt. Eddie hums against you, grabbing your ass as your tongues come out to play.

"So do you, sweetheart. You have no idea." He says with a smirk between kisses. He squeezes your rounds of flesh roughly, making you moan as arousal spreads through your bare folds. Eddie pulls away, the both of you left out of breath. "You'd better finish gettin' ready. I sense a group of freaks and weirdos quickly approaching." He jokes, giving your butt a light smack to dismiss you.

"Eddie Munson, showing some self-control. I'd better alert the press." You bully, leaving him to go do your makeup in the bathroom. You keep it light, mostly lipstick and eyeliner. Eddie insists that's all you ever need. He's such a sweetheart, always showering you with compliments. You'll never get over feeling so loved by him every second of the day.

"Keep crackin' the jokes, love. See how well that works out for you." He calls to you in warning, before following you. He sits across from you on the edge of the bathtub. He watches as you meticulously circle your eyes in thin black lines, and drag a cherry red lipstick across your mouth into a blowjob-worthy pout. Just when you set the stick down and give yourself a final once-over, you hear a knock on the door.

"Shit! They're here!" You run back to the bedroom, scrambling to put your heels on. "Get the door!" You command, and Eddie goes to greet your guests. You hear the voices of Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy as they step inside your home. You immediately feel giddy, pulling the back strap over your heel to get your other shoe on. You leave the bedroom, joining the party before they wonder where you are.

"Y/N! You look totally smokin'!" Robin exclaims, handing off the bags of chips she brought to Steve so she can give you a hug. She throws her arms around you, squeezing a little too tight.

"Hey, now. Don't be makin' moves on my woman." Eddie scolds playfully, waiting for his turn. "How are you, Rob?" He asks as they embrace.

"I'm doing great. I've actually started seeing someone." She says happily.

"And who's the lucky guy?" He asks, and the room falls quiet. "What?" He questions, confused. Everyone gives him awkward looks, clearly he's missed something.

"The lucky girl is named Vickie." Robin replies, almost flinching as she speaks. Everyone waits for his reaction, and he just smiles wide.

"Oh! Well, that's great! Can't wait to meet her." Eddie says a little too loud, growing red in the face.

"Sorry, I thought you knew." Robin sucks through her teeth.

"Nope. I really was kidding before. God, I'm a dumbass." He smacks his forehead, clearing his throat to force the feeling of idiocy away.

"Don't feel bad, Eddie. I didn't know right away, either. I spent almost an entire summer pining after her." Steve says, hoping to alleviate the tension in the room.

"And that was seriously painful to watch, Stevie." Robin says, taking the chips from him once again and bringing them to the kitchen.

"Alright, enough! Who needs a drink?" Nancy asks, rolling her eyes. Everyone answers in some form of 'yes', and she takes it upon herself to pour the girls some wine and get beers for the boys. You finish giving your hugs and take a seat. Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy sit on the couch, while Steve and Eddie take the armchairs, with you in Eddie's lap.

"I guess I'll be the first to congratulate you on your victory yesterday." Chrissy says, speaking up the first time this evening.

"Thank you, Chris. We're extremely relieved it went our way." Eddie replies for the both of you, squeezing you a little with his arms that rest around your waist.

"I wish I would've been there to see it. But I couldn't get off work." She says, somewhat sadly.

"It's okay, really. It's not like you were involved or anything. And you've got your own trial to worry about." You reassure her.

"Shit, I don't even want to think about that right now." She laughs dryly, taking a large gulp from her glass.

"No problem. We'll move on to somethin' else. How's JJ?" Eddie asks, changing the subject.

"He's doing great! He's been adjusting really well to us living with my aunt." Chrissy smiles, reminded of her pride and joy. She misses him every second she's away, but she appreciates having the chance to get out of the house on her own tonight.

"That's great. I'm glad you're both doing so well." You respond, taking a large sip of your wine.

"Thank you. This place looks great, by the way." She says kindly.

"Yeah, it really does. No offense, but I always took Munson for a slob." Steve chimes in.

"Believe me, Y/N won't stand for my messiness. She really cracked the whip to get me to help clean up before you guys came over." Eddie replies with a chuckle, pinching your side teasingly.

"Knowing Y/N, I doubt it was that bad to begin with." Nancy adds, giving you a reassuring nod. She knows full well how much the boys like to tease, even if they go a bit too far.

"What can I say? I can't stand clutter, it drives me crazy." You shrug, polishing off your first drink of the evening. "Anyone need a refill?" You ask, getting out of Eddie's lap to stand up.

"I'll take another beer, sweetheart." Eddie answers, chugging the rest of his half-drunk one and handing you the empty bottle as he swallows. He lets out a low belch, covering his mouth with his fist. "S'cuse me."

"Charming as always, Eds." You roll your eyes, taking the bottle and tossing it away in the kitchen trash. You get a fresh one from the fridge, and pour yourself another glass of dry red. You return to his lap a moment later, giving him his beer.

"Thank you, babydoll." Eddie coos, giving you a gentle kiss.

"So, Rob? What do we need to know about this mysterious 'Vickie'?" You ask, looking at her. You're very happy to hear that she's found somebody, you were becoming a little worried that she'd be subtly pining after you forever. It's flattering, sure. But one-sided crushes aren't exactly a pleasant experience. And more than anything, you wouldn't want any romantic feelings to get in the way of your friendship. Robin is a really amazing person in every way, and you hope to know her for the rest of your days.

"Well, she's a redhead. She keeps it real short, very Molly Ringwald. And she's got these beautiful eyes I could get lost in for hours. And she likes all the same movies I do, our first date was actually watching Dr. Zhivago in her apartment. She has great taste in everything, really. Food, music, fashion..." Robin speaks dreamily about Vickie, which makes your heart fill with happiness on her behalf. The way you can see her visualizing this girl as she describes her, eyes twinkling with pure admiration. It reminds you of the way you and Eddie feel about each other. Totally, completely, helplessly in love. Robin eventually stops talking, realizing she's gone on a rather impassioned rant. "Sorry, I'm talking too much." She blushes, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"No, you're not. Vickie sounds awesome, Robin. And I'm sure she'd happily talk her friends' ears off about you, too." You say with a laugh, and her expression brightens in response.

"I appreciate that, Y/N. I'll have to bring her along next time." Robin can't help beaming at that idea, bringing her first real girlfriend around to meet all of her friends. It sounds so perfect, so...normal. She doesn't really get a whole lot of that in this less-than-open-minded town.

"You'd better." You affirm. "What about you, Steve? Any luck in the dating pool?" You change the subject a little, noticing Steve has grown a little quiet now. You suppose his past crush on Robin, as well as her new relationship, has reminded him of his bad luck in love.

"Nah, not really. I've kinda tapped it out at this point." Steve says dryly, taking a swig of his beer.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You really are a great guy, Steve." You reply apologetically, recognizing that this may not have been the right route to take.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. 'The right girl is out there somewhere'." He mocks, rolling his eyes at the constant reassurance that he will find 'the one' someday. He's become less and less convinced that this is true, and watching the rest of you be so damn happy certainly isn't helping his case. Eddie Munson of all people can find a smokin' hot chick that's the love of his life, and Steve 'the King' Harrington can't? He may as well give up altogether.

"Don't be an ass, man. It may be annoying and cliche, but it's true. Maybe if you stopped tryin' so hard, it would happen for you." Eddie cuts in, speaking honestly. He feels for Steve's plight, truly, he does. Hell, he never thought he'd be so lucky to find a girl even half as amazing as you are. But before you came along, he went looking for affection in all the wrong places. It wasn't until he took a minute to step back and let shit fall where it may, that you happened to come crashing into his life. Well, more like he crashed into yours, if he's honest about it. Steve gives him a slight glare, but Eddie doesn't let up. "Look, all I'm sayin' is that I've been where you are. We all have." Eddie gestures around the room, and everyone nods in agreement. "You can't force true love or connection, Steve. You just have to let it happen."

"I know. I just..." Steve trails off, sighing as he doesn't want to say what he's really thinking. You'll all laugh and call him a weenie. He picks at the label on his beer, before flicking his eyes up to gaze around the room. And what he finds surprises him. You're all looking at him intently, with loving, supportive expressions on your faces. "I just want to get my life started so badly. I want a partner, a home, and lots of kids. It's all I've ever wanted." His breath catches, heat building behind his eyes. "I wanna build a family, to shower them with all this love I have inside of me. Because I never got that from my parents. Ever." His voice breaks, and he realizes that he's crying. Way to ruin the mood, dingus, he mentally scolds himself.

"Aw, Stevie. C'mere." Robin says, standing up to go to him. He meets her in the middle, and she captures him in a tight hug. "It'll happen, Steve. I promise. And you're gonna make a great husband, and a great dad. Whoever your spouse and kids turn out to be will be so lucky to have you." She says tearfully, wishing she could conjure up someone perfect for her best friend. It's too bad things don't work that way.

The rest of you stand up too, forming a warm group hug around Steve. He takes notice of the additional weight surrounding him, laughing through a sob. "Jesus, I'm sorry, guys. I'm being a total dork right now."

"No you're not, Steve. We love you, and we're here for you. That's what friends are for." Nancy says, resting her head on Steve's shoulder. He sighs happily at the contact, so grateful to have all of you as his friends. The six of you stay standing like this for a minute, radiating kindness and empathy.

"Okay, I think I'm good now." Steve dries his eyes, smiling wide. "Who's up for a game of Trivial Pursuit?"

Your huddle disperses at Steve's suggestion for a more cheerful activity, taking your places once more. Steve pulls out the game, and everyone picks their color to play. You spend the next hour or so answering various trivia questions and filling in the little plastic pie slices. The lot of you get rather competitive, though, on the edge of your seats as you try to get as many answers right as possible. There's lots of laughing, and shouting, and cheers of victory. It's all a very good time among friends, the energy in the room happy and comfortable. You've missed doing things like this with these wonderful people. The last thing you can remember that would even come close to this was karaoke at the Hideaway, which was months ago.

"Fuck, yes! I win!" Eddie surprises everyone by taking the win, forcing you off of his lap to do a goofy victory dance. He pulls you in for a celebratory kiss afterwards, very nearly sweeping you off your feet. This earns some rather lewd noises from the others, and you have to push him away to get it to stop.

"Looks like I need another refill." You say once the ruckus dies off, picking up your empty glass. Nancy and Robin follow behind to fill up their own glasses again, too.

"Hey, where's your bathroom?" Steve asks, getting up from his spot.

"Down the hall and to the left, Stevie. Don't get lost." You answer with a giggle, opening the fridge to get out the opened wine bottle. You fill up your glass, as well as Nancy's and Robin's. You make very light conversation, hearing Eddie get out of his chair to sit with Chrissy on the couch for a minute while you all take a break.

"I haven't had the chance to thank you, Eddie." Chrissy says on the other side of the wall.

"For what?" He replies.

"For saving my life." Chrissy clarifies.

"Oh, please. That was all Y/N." Eddie says humbly.

"But you helped. And before I left Jason, you were there for me when I needed you." She says sweetly, which makes you smile a little.

"I was selling you drugs, Chris. That's hardly 'being there' for someone." He snorts, undoubtedly rolling his eyes.

"We both know you did more than that. You listened to me, when no one else would." She insists.

You don't hear them say anything else for a moment, which feels odd. You expected to hear Eddie give some kind of response to that, he's not one to freeze up mid-conversation. Something doesn't feel right. You take your glass, ignoring whatever the hell Robin and Nancy have been talking about. Not that you were particularly paying attention to begin with. They give you an odd look, following your quick footsteps. You come around the corner, returning to the living room. And you find something you'd never expect to in a million years. You see Chrissy kissing your boyfriend, hands cupping his face, while his own hands sit frozen in his lap.

"What the fuck?" You gasp, your stomach dropping at the sight before you. Your wine glass falls from your hand, shattering on the floor and spilling a trail of dark red in the debris.

Eddie pushes Chrissy away, practically leaping off the couch to distance himself from her. His eyes meet yours, his mouth open in shock. "Y/N, it's not what it looks like." He puts a defensive hand up, hoping you'll let him explain.

"And what does it look like, Eds?" You snip, crossing your arms. "Because to me, it looks like you're kissing someone who isn't your girlfriend!" You say angrily, giving Chrissy a sour look.

"I-I didn't! She kissed me!" Eddie splutters, gesturing at the blushing woman still sitting on your sofa.

"And why would she do that, Eddie? Are you sleeping with her?" You retort, growing angrier by the second. You were all having such a nice night, and it's quickly turned into a nightmare.

"What?! No! Jesus, Y/N! When would I even have time to do that?" He asks, making you scoff.

"Dude, that is not the way to answer that." Steve interjects, coming back down the hall from his bathroom break. He's heard everything else so far, you aren't exactly keeping things quiet.

"Seriously." You add, shaking your head. "But you didn't answer my question. Are you sleeping with her?" You ask again, stepping closer to Eddie. Your body is coursing with adrenaline, and you're trying not to break down crying right now. Your stomach is doing flips, and you really hope this night doesn't end the way you think it will.

"No, Y/N. I swear to you, I am not cheating on you. Not with Chrissy, not with anyone." Eddie explains as calmly as he can, though on the inside he feels like the world is falling apart. The fury in your eyes, your trembling body, he senses a blow-out on the horizon.

"Alright. Fine." You say flatly, turning away from him to face Chrissy again. "Why did you kiss my boyfriend?" You ask her viciously. She raises her bowed head, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "Have you slept with Eddie before, Chrissy?" She doesn't even have to say anything, her shifting eyes and continued tears tell you everything you need to know. "Fuck's sake." You chuckle angrily, turning away from the entire party and storming down the hallway. You don't even know what you're doing, you're just following your bodily instincts. You go to your closet, finding a small suitcase. You yank it out and plop it on the bed. You hear footsteps approaching, four sets of them. You ignore them, far too upset to do anything besides pack your things and get the fuck out of here.

"Y/N, what the hell are you doing?" Eddie asks fearfully once he and the others enter the room.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" You shoot back, still avoiding his gaze.

"Y/N, please, just let me explain." He says, stepping forward to put his hand on your arm.

"Don't fucking touch me!" You shriek, yanking your arm away and pointing an accusing finger at him. "Tell me the truth. All of it." You jab at his chest.

"Alright, alright. Can you just stop for a minute?" Eddie pleads, holding back tears as he fears losing you. He looks to the others gathered in the doorway. "You mind giving us some privacy?" He asks rudely, shooing everyone else away. They scurry back down the hall, leaving you and Eddie alone. He goes to shut the bedroom door, and turns to you again. "Can you sit with me? Please?" He sits on the edge of the bed, gesturing for you to join him. You do, but you sit as far away on the other side as you possibly can. You're still boiling with rage, shaking terribly as you begin to feel a bit sick.

"Go on." You say with an expectant glare, crossing your arms even tighter.

"Alright." Eddie sighs. "Chrissy and I hooked up once back in high school when she and Jason had been broken up for about a week. We were drunk, and at a party. But a little bit later, she got back with him and she ended up pregnant." He explains, and your eyes widen.

"Is JJ yours?" You blurt, and his face scrunches.

"What! Fuck no! I had enough sense to wear a fucking condom, Y/N." He rolls his eyes at your accusation.

"Okay, fine. So, you hooked up in high school. Why would she have any reason to kiss you now, three years after the fact?" You're not buying for a single second that they've only had sex once. Women don't kiss guys they had a one-night stand with like that. They do that due to something more, when they think there's still something left. "Did you sleep with her after she was married? Before we got together?" You question, regretting every word as it slips from your pursed lips. You don't want it to be true. But why else would Chrissy deem it at all appropriate to kiss your fucking boyfriend?

"Sweetheart, I一" He starts, trying to come up with an excuse, some kind of explanation that doesn't mean that he's lied to you. But he can't. He shakes his head, looking away in shame.

"Eddie. Please...tell me you didn't." You say tearfully, your lip beginning to tremble as your worst fear about this whole situation comes to fruition.

"I'm sorry. I can't." Eddie practically whispers, his voice laced with sorrow and guilt. You get off the bed again, resuming your task of packing your shit while burning tears fall from your eyes. "Baby, please. Don't do this." He begs, unsure what to do or say to convince you to stay. He knows he's so unbelievably in the wrong here, but he can't lose you.

"Why did you lie to me?" You sob, stuffing some of your shirts into the suitcase. You go for some pants next, your vision blurry and distorted. "You promised me you'd never do that." You slam the dresser drawer shut after retrieving a couple pairs of jeans. Eddie flinches at the sound. You can't stop picturing them together. Eddie's lips on hers, or between her legs, making her cum on his face. His hands all over her body, his voice moaning her name instead of yours. The two of them going at it on that damned kitchen table, or in her fucking bed, while JJ sleeps in the other room. The images make you want to vomit, or punch a hole in the wall.

"I really didn't mean to, princess. When I started dealing to Chrissy, we were both lonely people. It just...happened. We made a mistake, but we put an end to it. I'm not proud of it, Y/N. I didn't want to think about it anymore." Eddie says, his own tears falling in warm drips onto his jeans. He doesn't stand up to stop you, or beg and plead with you to forgive him.

"But you went out of your way to tell me nothing went on between you two! You lied to me! You claimed you couldn't go to the police to help her! But you were more than capable of sticking your dick in her!" You can't help shouting at him, frantically stuffing underwear and socks on top of everything else in the suitcase. You put your uniform in last, closing the main compartment. You'll retrieve your toiletries on the way out and shove them in the front pocket. You have one last thing to ask him, something that's been gnawing at you for a good few minutes. You pull your luggage down to the floor, rolling it along so you can stand before Eddie again. He meets your eyes, his own red and watery. "Do you have feelings for her?" You ask coldly.

"I did, for a little while. But not anymore. I only care about you, Y/N." He says honestly, taking your free hand in his. You pull it away, making him break down entirely. "Y/N, please! I'm sorry! I don't want to lose you!" He cries, slipping off the bed and falling to his knees. Your heart breaks at seeing him so distraught. But you can't let this go so easily. He lied about something pretty fucking important, he could be lying about anything else. Anyone else. You have to be alone to think this over, to decide if this is enough to destroy the foundation of your relationship.

"I just need some time, Eddie. Regardless of how awful Jason is, you slept with a married woman. Multiple times. And then you lied to me about it at the start of our relationship, and continued to keep the truth from me. I have to figure out if I can really trust you, because right now...I don't." You explain through your gut-wrenching sobs. You're not even all that angry anymore. You're sad, heartbroken, and betrayed. You can't even look at him right now without seeing all the things you imagine he did with Chrissy. Distance is what you need. To think things over rationally, without Eddie whispering sweet nothings in your ear to convince you to forgive and forget.

You turn away from him, going for the door. You open it, causing the others to fall into the room as they've been eavesdropping. Except Chrissy. You're guessing she had the good sense to get to hell out of dodge, before you dragged her by the hair to throw her out. You sigh loudly at their pained expressions, rolling your eyes at their nosiness. You don't say anything to any of them, stepping over their entangled bodies to get your toothbrush and shampoo from the bathroom.

"Do you need a ride home, Y/N?" Steve asks, groaning as Robin's foot is lodged against his shin.

"Yes. Please." You whimper, failing miserably to keep any semblance of control over yourself. You shove all the toiletries your frazzled mind can remember into the little pocket, only managing to zip it halfway closed. You go back to the hall, giving Eddie one last glance before you leave. You reach up to the back of your neck, removing the guitar pick necklace he made for you. You toss it back over to him, and he regretfully catches it in his hand. "Don't forget to feed Arwen." You say with total finality. He nods, not saying anything else. Not a damn word out of his mouth could convince you to take back your decision, so it's no use to open his mouth at all. He just continues sobbing on the floor, wondering how the hell he's going to survive a single day without you.

Robin, Nancy, and Steve manage to get themselves up off the floor. They say their awkward goodbyes to an inconsolable Eddie, and walk with you out of the apartment. Robin grabs your purse and textbooks on the way out, and helps you load everything up into Steve's trunk once you make it outside.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I hope you two can work this out." Robin says, giving you a heartfelt hug.

"Do you want us to stay with you tonight? So you don't have to be alone?" Nancy offers, not wanting to let you stew all by yourself right now. Break-ups call for girlfriends staying over and lots of ice cream. At least, they do for her.

"No. I just want to go home. Maybe another time." You force a small smile for her kind idea, though it falls away to let another flood of tears come crashing down your cheeks.

"That's alright. Don't hesitate to call us, okay? We're always here for you." She says, giving you a hug of her own.

"Thanks. I'll see you later." You pull away from her, going with Steve now who has the car running. You get into the passenger seat, collapsing into your own lap as he pulls out of the parking lot. Steve does his best to console you as he drives, but it's no use. Part of you feels like you've made a horrible mistake, that you should beg him to turn around and take you back to Eddie. But the other part feels like there's no coming back from this. That it's all ruined, that it's over. You're completely spiraling. You're tipsy and exhausted from entertaining guests all night, and then finding out this terrible, awful thing. You just need to get home. And you need your mom.

Steve pulls into the driveway in front of your house, leaving the engine running as he doesn't expect to stay long. You get out of the car, going to the trunk to gather your things. Steve helps you out, and you hear the front door open. Mom comes outside, wondering what you're doing here so late.

"Sugarpuff? What's going on?" She asks with sleepy concern. You look at her, still quietly sobbing. She sees your splotchy face, eyeliner forming thick lines all over. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Mom一" You only manage to squeak out this one word, before falling apart all over again. She rushes over to you, capturing you in her arms. You wrap yourself around her so tight, crying so hard you could throw up.

"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay." She coos, stroking your hair as you wail into her shoulder. "Let's get you inside, alright? I'll make you some tea, and you can tell me what happened." She says sweetly, pulling back from your embrace and taking your hand. Steve brings your belongings in for you, and Mom thanks him and tells him goodnight. She sits you down on the couch, and goes to the kitchen to make some tea to help you calm down. "Okay, here you go. Now, tell mama what's wrong." She says as she hands you your tea, taking a seat right next to you.

"O-okay." You stutter, almost gasping for air from all your sobbing. You proceed to tell her everything that happened tonight. Chrissy kissing Eddie, finding out about their past relationship, packing up and leaving, giving his necklace back. She calmly listens to you speak, but she can't help getting a little angry on your behalf on the inside. She'll ream that little fucker for lying to you, for hurting you. No one messes with her baby girl, not even the man she loves.

"I'm so sorry, sugarpuff. Do you know what you're gonna do?" She asks, putting her hand over yours.

"I don't know. I love him, Mom. I really do. I think I just have to sleep on it...for a while. I don't want to give up on us. But I'm worried that I can't trust him now." You sigh, wishing you could solve this right now. But your mind and body have other ideas. Your eyelids are drooping as you sit here, and you feel so heavy, like you're made out of bricks.

"I understand, and I think it's a good idea to think it over. You can stay here as long as you need to, okay? And whatever you decide to do, I'll always support you, sweetie." Mom replies.

"Thanks, Mom. I love you." You give her another hug, much shorter and gentler this time. "I'd better let you get to bed. I'm sorry for waking you." You add as you pull away.

"Oh, no hour is too late for my babies when they need me." She chuckles. "I think you could benefit from some rest, too, kiddo." She cups your cheek, once again noting the obvious evidence of exhaustion on your face.

"I know. I'll try my best." You give her a small smile, standing up with her to head to bed. You walk down the hall, turning to her before entering your old bedroom. "Goodnight, Mom." You say, fighting back a yawn.

"Goodnight, sugarpuff. I love you." She replies. She goes into her own room, closing the door behind her. You do the same, finding your old bed waiting for you. The blankets and pillows are arranged nice and neat, the bedding pink and juvenile. But all it reminds you of is the times you and Eddie shared in it.

Your first night, after you sat in on one of Hellfire's campaigns, the two of you turning each other on under everybody's noses. On your birthday, when he gave you the little book of sex positions he'd made. After your father's funeral, when he got you high and snuggled with you for what felt like hours. And countless, unforgettable others. So many memories made in one room, all of which have come back to haunt you now.

You can hear Eddie's infectious laugh mingling with your own as he tickles you on the floor. You can smell his cigarettes and cheap cologne wafting past your nose. You can taste your own arousal transferred from his mouth to yours in a hungry, post-oral kiss. You can feel his large hands caressing your body to admire every last inch of you, the rings on his fingers shocking you with a welcome cold. And all of these only break your heart even more.

"Fuck." You mutter, sensing another bout of uncontrollable sadness coming on. But at least you can be alone, in your own bed, and not have to answer any more questions. For tonight, at least, you get the solitude you've found yourself craving for the last hour. You step out of your heels, just now noticing how much your feet have been killing you all night. You slip off your dress, and toss it and the bra you had on underneath in the corner. You don't bother to put any other clothes on, it's not like you've never slept alone in the nude before.

You crawl under the covers, realizing just how cold this bed is now. Without Eddie, without his warmth and cuddles and kisses. You don't even have Arwen to keep you company, you left her at the apartment. But you know Eddie will take good care of her. You force the oncoming memory of you two cuddling the cat away from your mind. You can't keep reminiscing over your entire relationship right now. It's not over yet. At least, you sure as shit hope it won't be. But that's not to be decided tonight, perhaps not for a good while.

To be continued...

[cyberrose2001]

thank you for the tags @desertrosesmetaldune and @aceofhearts25 :>

bet you can't guess what my favourite colour is

taggin' @mechdyke @michaela-o @callsign-relic @azu-recentbrainrot @gothic-mothic-topic @ikkosu @cometchasinglove (sorry if you've already been tagged JDJKKFKF)

So I found a tag game that looked fun

Design what your blog would look like if it was a person using this picrew

@prettykittytanjiro @tum-naam-sochlo-merese-ni-hora @zeherili-ankhein @unknown-box-boi @yeehawgeek @shinchansbitch

and whoever else wants to join :3

also the teeth necklace is supposed to represent cursedblr lol

[whenthelightisrunninglow]

i'm so glad to finally see them with their aces in pokemon masters 😭

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[doodleodds]

Me? Uploading a Halloween comic on November 18th, almost four whole-ass weeks late???? Yeah that’s uh. yup. yeah

Thanks for reading! :) <3

[afrogwhocantdraw]

Biblically accurate frog

Np tags <3:

@dragoness05 @primalmagic @random-gamer1942 @r0ckst4r-c0re

@karmaajr @arthur-side @whatsuplin @youngjusticerulez @d011zk1ll

@rot-decay-erosion @fandomfive39 @ohquail @blue-eyed-moon-child

+anyone else who wants to

I saw the tag game things so I made my own! Make yourself as a monster and take this quiz!

@ladycalleddella @bjfinn @stinkyhorsebitch @lydiadeetzfan +whoever else wants to join!

[ahollowgrave]

-- Odette Hollows [B A S I C S]

B A S I C S

Name: Odette Hollows Nicknames: None commonly used. Yein calls her their ‘Moonlit Friend’ and Marlow refers to her by title; Sister. I don’t know if any of these are ‘nicknames.’ Age: Early Twenties Nameday: 9th Sun of the Fifth Umbral Moon Race: Mostly Hyur; technically Ashkin. Gender: CIS Female Orientation: Demi Lesbian Profession: Nun Errant, Psychopomp, Shepherd

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S

Hair: Strands of spun moonlight are cropped just past her jawline; styled with a few braids with occasional charms or ribbons woven throughout. Likely her most recognizable feature. In dark enough settings, it can shed low light.   Eyes: Like frozen pools; her right eye is a sharp blue, and her left is a clear lavender.  Skin: Ghostly pale, dotted with occasional beauty marks.  Tattoos/scars: Graced with stretch marks but beyond that no notable scars. 

F A M I L Y

Parents: Unknown to her, deceased. Perfectly nice people who, through no fault of their own, died. Siblings: N/A Grandparents: Unknown to her, deceased. Also perfectly nice people.  In-laws and Other: A great-many-times-over Aunt named Odile. A not-so-nice person.  Pets: Rou, a large Karakul who often travels with Odette. Three ewes: Pomme, Poire, and Peche.

S K I L L S

Abilities: - Odette is a beacon to lost souls, ghosts, and spirits. They flock to her and under the umbrella of her influence their forms are altered into that of moths. They cling to her, calling for aid which she lends as best she can. Odette is a psychopomp, she guides the dead without judgment. She can see, hear, and otherwise interact with these lost and stuck souls. She has a custom job fusion of WHM (Conjury)/PLD.

- A strong defensive fighter, Odette prefers her shield and conjurer’s cane to the sword that hangs at her side. She wields her shield well, trusting in it fully to keep herself and her loved ones safe. When she plants her cane, the river rises. 

- Kulning is an ancient form of herding calls used over long distances. Odette learned the skill in her youth and uses it still, calling in her small flock of Karakul at her home. Is this important enough to put here? Probably not, it’s just an additional fun fact! For you!

Hobbies: Reading, gardening, knitting (badly), and exploration. She also plays piano and harp.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: The warmth of her personality, her willingness to meet and love people as they are and as they change. Her curiosity about the people around her.  Most Negative Trait: Her inability to trust herself, her eagerness to trust others above herself. People don’t care for the stealing, either.

L I K E S

Colors: Blues, Purples, Silver, and a pop of red.  Smells: Rich, damp soil; Cedar; sun-ripened peaches; sweet, warm vanilla. Textures: The warmth of hand-spun wool, wood worn smooth with use, the delicate touch of petals against skin. Drinks: Hot chocolate with marshmallows and butterscotch, lemonade infused with different fruits and flowers. 

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Not cigarettes. Drinks: No.  Drugs: Yes, pretty heavily. She cannot sleep so she takes drugs to sort of  ‘float’ in a resting state. It doesn’t work but it is better than nothing.  Mount Issuance: Odette is not insured to ride anything. She walks most places, or takes ferries and airships where she can. She owns a Chocobo, named Beauty, who was gifted to her by her friend None. Most of the time if she is riding, she rides Rou, her most loyal Karakul.  Been Arrested: No, but she should have been.

][ Tagged by: ][ @myreia @sealrock @thefreelanceangel @cindernet-explorer @paintedscales @hazelkjt ][ AHH! Thank you all SO much, I appreciate it! ] ][ Tagging: ][ @snotsloth @but-first--tea @the-sycophant @eorzeanflowers @abyssalmermaiden @tallbluelady @viiioca @the-white-snake @claire-ashe & You! ]

[montied]

Tagged by @flashnthunder to :

“Spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters.”

M - Mars by Pinkshift

O - Of All The Gin Joints In The World by Fall Out Boy

N - No One Knows by Queens of the Stone Age

T - Throw Me In The Pit by Bridget.

I - I'm Not a Seeker I'm a Founder by The Transpersonals

E - EAT YOUR FRIENDS by Jhariah and Pinkshift

D - Don't You Know Who I Think I Am by Fall Out Boy

I shall tag @dilfsuzanneyk @moonlight19256 @executethyself35 @literary-lesbian @homuncvlus @freebagels @styx-the-stick

[yellowloid]

ten people i'd like to get to know better

i was tagged by @uhbasicallyjustmilex @arcticshadowturtles @rearviewghost - thank you so much!! 💖

last song: girl, so confusing - charli xcx feat. lorde

favourite colour: purple and black 💜🖤 all shades of purple are just my favourite but especially lilac which i made my whole personality ever since i was like 13

last book: currently reading normal people by sally rooney, i'm really enjoying it so far! can't wait to catch up with the tv show, i've heard very positive reviews of it + i love daisy edgar jones' and paul mescal's on-screen chemistry, plus i miss ireland sm and the book is continuously feeding my dublin blues </3

last movie: i honestly can't remember bc i don't watch that many movies (i'm more of a tv show girlie) but it was probably visconti's 'death in venice' after reading the short novel - thomas mann is one of my favourite authors and the movie perfectly captured the languidly eerie atmosphere of the book

last tv show: tim burton's wednesday! i purposely avoided it back when it came out bc everyone was talking about it and you know how it goes, the more people talk about smth the less i feel the desire to watch it lmao. but then last month i was in the mood for smth with a spooky autumn vibe that was also kinda light, so i decided to give it a chance and it was a really nice surprise! i wasn't expecting to like it so much but i found it really entertaining, i loved jenna ortega's portrayal of wednesday and i also found her and enid so cute (GOD i hope they make wenclair canon in s2 it'd be so good)

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury all the way, but after that then also a sweet treat

relationship status: blessedly single and also the dating scene is so atrocious i'd rather put my hand in a blender than open tinder ever again

last thing i googled: t.s. eliot's poem 'the naming of cats' because i remembered i had it saved somewhere but couldn't find it so i just looked it up - it's so silly i love it

current obsessions:

am/tlsp as always - i  finished writing a very long chapter of my wip the other day and even tho it was very angsty i'm so happy i finally finished it because i'd been bogged down in a slump for quite some time and i'm just so glad i managed to pull myself out of it. just a couple of chapters left and then the fic will be completely written :')

taylor swift as always - last couple of days i've been losing my mind over her new surprise songs outfits specifically. i see. i see it all so clearly

garrett and andrew (my favourite youtubers along with dan and phil): i LOVED the new spooky video and ugh every single one of their videos has the power to become a comfort video to me

bungo stray dogs and soukoku in particular - i watched the anime for the first time back at the start of 2020, then i rewatched it around this time last year and i'm afraid ever since then it's been living in my mind rent free, especially these two chaotic bitter exes </3 i'm on volume 18 of the manga but i need to catch up asap!!

looking forward to: having dinner with my friends on saturday night, the new bsd chapter at the start of november, christmas time, planning another trip with the girls <3 also having a break (isn't going to happen soon unfortunately) and getting some quality SLEEP i'm so tired

tagging: @alexturner @mrschwartz @reconciledviolence729 @hesterias @partynthem @depressedraisin @glorious-blackout @1llusionmachine and anyone who wants to do it 🫶

[desperatepleasures]

@identifying-cellphones-in-posts

Free: this Blackberry I just fished out of a creek

[ignatiusteto]

valerith, the red swan

[vecnuthy]

WIP Word Game

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

I was tagged for FRUIT by @hbyrde36 and SPICE by @stervrucht smooches to you BOTH, MWAH

These are both from a spicy six game night fic that I'm thinking would be best as part of a "3 or 4 times Eddie thinks about acting on his Steve thirst, and one time he finally snaps" type of thing.

“Fine, fine,” Eddie relents dramatically.

Robin raises her glass to him, saying “Beauty is pain.”

Ultimately, however, he can't do that.

“I dare you to…” Eddie's voice drags out each vowel and cast his eyes around the room at nothing in particular and definitely not at Steve's socks as he considers his options.

To see those legs do anything.

------------------

“Sure about that?” Steve grabs the bottle and spins it.

Press himself between them and –

"I'm calling your bluff.”

Call it, please.

Even just in the setting of a silly game, he doesn't know what Steve has in store for him, but he wants to find out.

No pressure tags for @steddieas-shegoes @thefreakandthehair @thisapplepielife @griefabyss69 @just-my-latest-hyperfixation with the word CANDLE