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honeyhotteoks · 13 hours ago

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across stardust - two (j.yh); section one

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate. one | two (*section one); (section two) | three | four 🔗read on ao3✨ across stardust pinterest board

note: i hope everyone enjoys this chapter. it's wildly fluffy and wildly romantic, and then deliciously smutty so i hope everyone enjoys.

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, allusions to a past ex who pressured her into things she wasn't ready for, anxiety etc., and finally the smut; heavy makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, convos about oral m!receiving, lots of fingering, lots of cock touching, earth shattering soulmate sex, rough sex, soft!dom/pleasure!dom yunho and wide eyed sub!reader, heavy on the dirty talk, HEAVY on the praise. we got a lot of good girls in this one, and good god tagging for gratuitous use of pet names from yunho. lots of missionary and missionary adjacent positions, spooning sex to idk he's on his back and she's on top but laying on him it's hard to describe but by god is it hot please enjoy

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 28.1k

**this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the second half of this part, here!

The tour ends in Paris of all places. After weeks of concealing your growing relationship with Yunho from everyone, it feels like the universe is rubbing salt in the wound bringing you to the so-called city of love.

For weeks as you hopped city to city, a whirlwind of language and culture and food, you found yourself living for the quiet, stolen moments with him. Quick visits to each other’s hotel rooms and even faster kisses, but never a full night. He hugged you briefly in Amsterdam, left a single rose on your station in Rome, bought you a cashmere scarf in London when the weather took a turn. You catalog these moments in your memory, and scribble down musings in your travel journal, and try not to judge yourself for saving every little scrap of your secret relationship down to the gift receipt in the bottom of the bag and one of the rose petals (pressed dry between the pages of your latest read).

Paris feels different though. Everywhere you look there are couples snuggled close in the winter chill, and though you aren’t necessarily one for public displays of affection, seeing it like this makes your heart ache. You’d at least like the option. But despite his little gifts, you and Yunho have been doing your best to be subtle, mitigating even the smallest glances, and getting to know him over text. It wasn’t enough, but you could cope, until now. Until this city. You weren’t supposed to walk through a city this romantic alone, not when your soulmate was a few blocks away in a hotel room. You were supposed to be with him.

He feels your ache though, and you feel his.

Besides, it’s almost, almost over.

In Paris, you all have an extra two days to account for the end of the tour and flights home, and the electric energy of being almost finished and almost home has everyone buzzing. The members are jittery with anticipation but so is the staff, so close to being back home and in the arms of their loved ones and with a belly full of Korean food.

On the last show, after soundcheck runs perfectly smoothly and the pre-show rituals have all been checked off without a hitch, it goes to shit. Venue delays, an issue outside getting the fans inside, leaving the stadium only half full at the call time.

It’s not the first time this has happened of course, but it is the first time for this tour and to have it happen on the last day leaves everyone groaning.

“They couldn’t tell us this twenty minutes ago?” Hongjoong asks one of your production team.

They had been moments away from starting the introduction lights and music, the boys had already gotten up onto their rising platforms when a member of the venue staff had jogged all the way backstage waving her arms and trying to explain in a mix of French and English that they had to wait.

“They said thirty minutes,” The staff member replies, “we won’t have to make any cuts, but anything over an hour we’ll need to start,”

“Fuck,” Hongjoong’s jaw tightens, “Sorry, I apologize,”

The boys are gathered tightly around management and the production staff and you, Iseul, and the other members of makeup and hair step forwards to listen in.

You can’t quite catch all of the conversation, but then there’s some nodding in the center circle and Sunhee, the head of tour production, turns and addresses everyone as they shuffle into a semi-circle around him, “Alright, we’re running on a thirty delay,”

Everyone nods.

“If we hit 60, we’re electing to cut Deja Vu, Silver Light, DLWB, and Eternal Sunshine,” He explains, “We’ll shift Wave into the 8th block behind Dreamy Day, yes?”

Everyone nods again.

“That’s a setup we’re already prepared for, correct?” He addresses the sound team who nods, and then looks to every other team who follows suit before he continues, “If we need to cut more, we need to be prepared for a lot of small changes. It’s possible we lose Win and Fireworks, and that’s not something we want to do. Everyone needs to be on strict standby until we get rolling, I don’t want to be looking for anyone in the bathroom or finding out someone stepped out for a smoke, clear?”

There’s a chorus of responses.

“If you need a break, do it in the next five. Every ten until lights, we’re right here.” He’s a clear, no nonsense leader, but everyone has their marching orders.

The group breaks up after that, several staff hurrying off to the bathrooms now and a couple of the BB Trippin dancers slipping out the back access door for a cigarette.

The members are talking amongst themselves in a tighter circle, planning choreography changes and ment changes to tighten up the time, and you try your best to not look at Yunho for more than a passing glance. His back is to you, and you ache to reach out and see how he’s doing, ease the bubble of stress you feel in your gut, but you can’t.

Iseul bumps you gently with her hip and nods her head back towards your stations. Dahan and Eunji are back, thankfully, having gotten over Covid fairly quickly and started testing negative, and the four of you huddle up to do your own planning session.

“This doesn’t change much for us except how fast we work,” Iseul says, “we can make some strategic cuts around the unit stages too, no added eye enhancements, keep the focus on skin, lips, and brows.”

“Done,” Dahan nods and then settles back into the chair at her station, “I don’t think there’s much more we can do,”

Iseul nods, “It’s not a makeup heavy set,”

Eunji collapses into her own chair and pops open an energy drink, “That just means their foundation has to look better,”

“They look good,” You assure her, “and lord knows we use enough setting spray,”

Eunji laughs and takes a swig of her drink, her carefully manicured nails clicking against the aluminum can as drops it back down on the table, “Hmm,” her leg bounces nervously, “we should check them again,”

“They’re fine,” Iseul says, “plus, wardrobe has them.”

You look back up, and sure enough the wardrobe team is fluttering around them as they talk, taking every opportunity to re-steam a jacket or fix a pant hemline.

You lean back against the long table of snacks and water bottles along the one white wall and watch the chaos, your fingers drumming restlessly along the lip of the table.

“Hey!” One of the wardrobe staff leaps forwards and you look up, “Don’t sit on the couch, I’ll just have to press those pants again!”

Wooyoung leaps up from the couch and groans, “Sorry, sorry,”

“Let me check you,” She inspects his pants with a sharp gaze, “these crease too easily,”

Wooyoung cracks a joke you don’t hear, but everyone within earshot is laughing and you smile at the scene. You’ve all worked together for so long it really does feel a bit like family.

Staff starts to gather back up, and Sunhee makes another clear announcement, “Still running on a thirty,”

Everyone echoes back their understanding.

Now there’s nothing to do but wait. Chewing the inside of your lip you fish your phone out of your brush belt pocket and idly scroll, flicking through photo after photo on Instagram and barely absorbing any of it.

A body shifts in your periphery and you look up to see Yunho, leaning on the table next to you but leaving an appropriate amount of space between your bodies. His head is angled away from you, talking animatedly to San about something, and though you know he’s ignoring you on purpose you also know he sat here for a reason.

Your chest warms, and so does his.

Feeling him this close feels like you’re standing in a rising tide, the sensation of him filling the space around you so wholly and completely, and you know if you were to just surrender to it would carry you right out to sea.

San’s eyes flick to yours, “What about you?”

You blink, “Hmm?” You might have been looking in their direction but not a single word made it into your brain.

San’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement, “That dance challenge with Bada, have you seen it?”

“Oh,” You nod, realizing what trend they’re talking about on Tiktok, “yeah, for sure, it’s everywhere right now,”

“I’m trying to get Yunho to do it with me,” He explains, “it’s cool right? I think we’d kill it,”

Yunho swivels his head to look in your direction and your stomach flips and you fight to keep your face somewhat professional and neutral when you nod, “It’s definitely cool, a lot of idols are doing it, you should,”

“Well,” He smiles, his expression warm, “I guess I’ll have to,”

San snorts softly, and you wonder briefly if he involved you in the conversation because he knew Yunho would cave if you said something.

The moment is short though, when Wooyoung cuts between San and Yunho, “Budge over I need a water,”

Yunho slides to the side just a few inches, but it’s enough to feel the heat of his body from shoulder to thigh as he gets closer to you and your breath quickens. Even after a few weeks, his proximity still makes you feel a dizzy kind of elation and you swallow tightly to keep your own reactions under wraps.

“You good?” Yunho’s focused on Wooyoung’s serious expression though.

“My calf keeps cramping,” He complains, uncapping a water bottle and locating a packet of electrolytes to pour into it.

“You need to stretch,” San says, “drink that and come here,”

Wooyoung grumbles something and Yunho chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah,” San rolls his eyes, “don’t complain when you know I’m right,”

“Fine,” Wooyoung downs the water bottle, drinking half of it in three thirsty gulps and then spins on his heel to follow San to the far wall that’s empty.

For a moment, Yunho doesn’t move.

You stay frozen in place, unsure of exactly what to do, if you should move or if you should let him move, but he makes the decision for you.

The back of his knuckles brush along yours for just a moment, and then he’s up again and walking towards his members. Your heart flutters, and you’re sure he can feel it with the way he looks at you, just one quick glance back before he starts stretching again with Wooyoung and San.

You’ll have to add that one to your notes then, he brushed your hand in Paris.

Blissfully, they announce again that the delay is only going to be thirty minutes. No cuts to the show, no panic. In ten minutes everything will start and you’ll be one step closer to home.

In the wings at the new call time, you prep them again with a final pat of powder, smoothing out any whisper of a pore. When they move past you, Yunho’s hand brushes yours again, and you wonder if he knows he’s doing it. It feels unconscious the way he gravitates towards you, and though he keeps the contact decidedly subtle, you can feel the way his nervousness eases with just a touch of your skin on his.

You watch him as he jogs out to the stage risers, you can’t quite tear your eyes away. He’s so handsome, so commanding of the stage, so unlike the soft, gentle man you’ve come to know off screen. You’re starting to really love them both, or perhaps you already do, and quietly you send him as much warmth and confidence through the link as you can.

His eyes flick over to the wings, a flash of a smile on his lips, but then he refocuses and adjusts his in-ears, and the risers lift into the roar of the crowd once again.

Your eyes track him as he goes up, and sensation bursts through the link from his side, only this time it doesn’t take you down to your knees. You’ve gotten used to it the past few shows, and now it just rings in your body like background noise.

A hand closes around your forearm and pulls, yanking you out of your dazed thoughts, and you whirl to catch Iseul’s serious expression.

“Come with me,” She murmurs lowly, “right now.”

Your stomach twists but you keep the panic to a minimum, you can’t do this to him again. Following her to the backstage door, she grabs her coat and tugs it on and throws you yours. She tugs you outside before you can even properly get your arms through the sleeves and you yank your arm back, “What’s going on?”

“You’re asking me?” She says quietly even though the stage door is shut tight and there’s no one in sight, “Are you kidding?”

She shoves a hand into her pocket and fishes out a pack of cigarettes, ones that she usually only smokes after a few drinks, “I started to think in Amsterdam that it was one of them,”

Your stomach sinks like a stone.

She sparks the lighter and leans in to light the smoke, “You were watching them differently,”

“Iseul,”

“But, I guess it’s Yunho, isn’t it?” She takes a drag and levels you with a serious expression.

“Please,” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, she’s your best friend, but the fear of the unknown still crushes your chest, “don’t,”

“He watches you too,” She says, “I wasn’t sure at first, he’s always been friendly with us, but this is different,”

“I don’t know what to say,” You manage.

“How about you don’t lie to your best friend,” She takes another drag, “that would be a good start,”

“It’s not what you think,” You step closer.

“I don’t think you know what I think,”

“Iseul,” You wrap your arms around yourself.

“Fine,” She tips the ash off the end of the cigarette and pushes her pin straight hair back over her shoulder, “I’ll tell you what I think,”

You stay silent, stomach tight.

“You’ve been weird,” She says, “I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy, and I really doubt you just noticed him for the first time, so either you’re an excellent liar or you’re in love with him,”

You blanch.

“And if you’re in love with him,” She points out, “so suddenly after years, then there’s more to it. So I started paying attention,”

She takes a long drag of her cigarette and sighs out the smoke.

“You’ve been sneaking off,” She points out, “checking your phone constantly,”

Your eyes flick down to the pavement.

“But the weirdest part,” She says, “is that you’ve been changing in the bathroom and we’ve been friends for years. I’ve seen your tits like a hundred times,”

Your head snaps up.

“You’ve been too happy lately for it to be something bad,” She says, her voice softening a bit, “so it’s something good, something like your mark changing.”

”Iseul,” Your voice comes out weakly.

“Fuck,” She looks over your expression, “he’s your soulmate,”

“We didn’t know,” You stumble through the words, “I swear, we didn’t,”

“I believe you,” She nods, “I just want to know why you couldn’t tell me. I’m your best friend, I would have helped you, I wouldn’t… I would never tell anyone,”

“I know,” You reach for her, “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“Then why?” She pulls her wrist from your touch and ashes her cigarette again, “Because it really hurts that you couldn’t trust me with this.”

“It’s not that,” You press, and it pours out of you, “we don’t even know what we’re doing. It’s really overwhelming, everything I’m feeling and he’s feeling, and then there’s the contracts and the job and the fucking public, and I just… I don’t know what to do, we don’t know what to do. We decided to wait until we got back to Korea to figure it out properly,”

She nods.

“I was going to tell you as soon as I got the nerve up,” You promise, “I haven’t even called Hana,”

Her eyes widen at the confession that you haven’t told your sister after weeks, “Babe,”

“If you know,” You manage, “and she knows, then it’s happening, and I,”

Iseul flicks her cigarette to the curb and throws her arms around you, tugging you close for a hug, “Oh, you nervous idiot,”

“I promise,” You hug her back, “I was going to tell you,”

“Don’t you want it to be real?” She murmurs the question, “It’s your soulmate,”

“I do,” You nod, “I want him, it’s just,”

She rubs your back as you sigh.

”It could be easier,” You finally admit, “if he wasn’t who he is, then it would be simple.”

She nods and pulls back from the hug, giving you a final squeeze, “Simple’s for fairytales,”

“I guess,”

“We’ll work it out,” She nods, “I’ll help.”

“I should have told you weeks ago,” You confess.

“Probably,” She nods, “I would have helped cover for you at least,”

You smile, “Yeah?”

“Totally,” She nods.

You sigh into the cold air, your breath making a cloud of vapor.

She pushes her hands into her coat pockets and then stops, “Who else knows?”

“San, he saw it when we touched,” You tell her and her eyes widen, “and Seonghwa… he found us in bed that morning in Berlin,”

“I’ll be mad about them knowing before me later,” Her nose crinkles, “but that’s good, let’s keep the circle small for now.”

“Definitely,” You nod, “we want to tell people, but just not… it’s better at home,”

She chews the inside of her lip, sighing and pulling out another cigarette, “You haven’t slept together?”

“Not yet,”

As she lights the second cigarette her eyebrow quirks up, “So you’re just tormenting yourselves for fun, or?”

Iseul was, without a doubt, the biggest believer in soulmates you’ve ever met. Everyone in her family was lucky enough to have found their match young, from her parents to her siblings, but she’s been waiting. Out of anyone without a soulmate though, she knew exactly how difficult the time between initial touch and fulfillment of the bond was.

“We nearly did,”

“And?” She takes a drag.

“He wanted to do it right,” You explain, your cheeks heating.

She nods, “He seems like that type,”

Your gut tightens and you exhale, “I was also a little terrified,”

“You and relationships,”

“This is different,” You cross your arms.

Iseul smirks at your sudden defensiveness, “I know it is,” she says, “but it’s still freaking you out, obviously,”

“It was,” You admit, “maybe it is, but not in the way you’re thinking.” The logistics have you stressed beyond belief, but him? Those fears have been fading fast since that first night.

“So, you do love him,” She smiles, flicking away her half smoked cigarette.

All you can do is nod.

Iseul softens at that, after so many years of friendship and watching each other try relationships on for size. Every almost match that withered into nothing, every missed connection, every late night wondering.

“I’m happy for you both,” She says earnestly, reaching for the door and clearing her throat to shove away the emotion there, “but I swear if you lie to me again,”

You laugh, “Got it.”

She punches in the key code to the door and twists the handle when it goes green, but then she stops short, “Listen, we’ll talk about the rest later, but you’ve got to tone it down with him in there. No more longing looks, no more little touches, if I saw you someone else will too.”

Your stomach twists, “Fuck,”

“It’s fine,” She says, “I was looking for it, but eventually someone’s going to notice.”

“Okay, you’re right” You nod.

“Let’s get back in there,” She pulls the door back open and you stumble inside.

Everyone is gathering up again for the first costume change, and you do your best to shake off the conversation. Iseul squeezes your shoulder once, and then slips back to her station like nothing ever happened.

You don’t look at him again the rest of the show.

Iseul’s warning lives in your mind and you try to keep some distance. You give him the same polite congratulations on the tour that you give to every member, ignoring the little crease between his brows when he realizes you’re being funny.

At the team dinner, you keep to the far side of the table and keep the soju to a minimum.

You ignore the buzzing phone in your pocket and his quick glances.

Iseul keeps you busy, keeps you steady.

You don’t let yourself look at the text messages on your phone until you’re back in your hotel room and able to finally relax. A string of texts from him make your heart twist.

everything alright?

you seem tense, did something happen during the show?

alright now i know you’re avoiding me….. jagi, what did i do? tell me so i can fix whatever it is

you look so beautiful tonight, i wish i was across the table from you. i wish we didn’t have to hide this. i wish you’d tell me what’s wrong so i can make it better.

let me know you get to your room safely.

“You good?” Iseul asks as she flops back on her bed, “You look freaked,”

“Yunho,” You pass her the phone so she can see for herself.

She skims the messages quietly, one eyebrow raising, “Girl,” she looks up at you, “I said be subtle, not emotionally terrify your new boyfriend,”

Your cheeks heat, “He’s not my boyfriend,”

“Yeah he is,” Iseul rolls her eyes and tosses your phone back, “and the sooner you accept that this is good for you, the sooner you can get a handle on this with him and actually make a plan,”

Chewing the inside of your lip you sink down onto the edge of your own bed, “I keep fucking this up,”

She shakes her head, “You’re fine, but you’re also wound so tight some strings are bound to break. Call him,”

“He’s probably so pissed at me,” You breathe.

“He’s probably worried,” She counters, “but babe, he’s not any of your shitty exes. At some point you have to stop being scared that every guy is going to break your heart, especially this one.”

“Ouch,” You grimace at her words.

“Am I wrong?”

You sigh heavily and run a hand through your hair, of course she wasn’t wrong. Iseul had watched you couple up time and time again only for it to be another failed attempt at not being alone. That combined with your only significant relationship being littered with gaslighting, cheating, and a truly terrible sex life meant she wouldn’t let you settle, or let a good thing pass you by just because of your anxiety and less than stellar history with the opposite sex.

“Call him,” She interrupts your thoughts again.

You swallow tightly, but at her unwavering gaze you finally look down and press the call button next to his contact picture, pressing the phone to your ear, your fingers drumming nervously on your knee.

Yunho picks up on the second ring, “Baby?”

He doesn’t sound mad at all, all you hear is relief in his voice and your shoulders drop, “Hey,”

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” You hear the rustle of sheets on his side as he sits up.

“Nothing,” You let out the air trapped in your chest, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,”

He’s quiet for a second, but then he speaks up, “I can feel your stress, y/n,”

You wonder how heavily it’s pouring out of you for him to feel it so clearly through the link.

He takes a slow breath and then continues, “If it’s something I did, I’d like to know so we can talk about it. If it’s something else, I’m here,”

There’s a brush of warmth against your mark, and all your tension starts to melt, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Yunho, I promise.”

“Okay,” He murmurs, letting you know he’s listening, waiting for more.

You look up and meet Iseul’s gaze. She nods at you, waving her hand towards you in a ‘get on with it’ motion, silently pushing you through this.

“Iseul knows about us,” You tell him in a nervous exhale, “she noticed we were being familiar, that there was something going on,”

Sheets rustle again and Yunho clears his throat, “Oh,” he says, “I mean, you’re friends aren’t you? Is she upset?”

You open your mouth to say more, but Iseul groans and pushes herself off the bed, snatching the phone from your ear and taking over the call. You jump up to grab it back, but she holds you back with one arm outstretched and a growing smile on her face.

“Yunho?” She says, “It’s Iseul,”

You hear a short response from Yunho, but you can’t make out the individual words he says.

“Of course I’m not upset,” Iseul says, “I’m honestly really, really happy for you both, even if I had to figure it out myself,”

You watch as Iseul listens to his reply and she laughs sharply.

“Yeah, you two giving each other puppy eyes for the last few weeks was not subtle, no,”

Another beat, and you nudge her side, whispering, “Iseul,”

“No, no,” She shakes her head and steps away from you to keep talking to him, “I told y/n this, but I was looking for it. She was acting weird so I knew something was up, but I just wanted you both to be careful in front of everyone,”

Yunho says something you can’t hear and Iseul nods to herself.

”She’s okay,” Iseul looks back to you, a soft expression in her eyes now, “you’ll learn this, but she’s a little skittish.”

“Iseul!”

She rolls her eyes at you, but listens to him and nods again, “Listen,” she finally says, “I’m going to give the phone back to your girl, but before I do I just want to remind you that she’s my best friend. I think you’re a good guy, Yunho, but if you so much as make her cry, I’ll kill you. Clear?”

His reply is short and she laughs.

“Good,” Iseul grins, “she deserves someone good, and I know you can be that person for her.”

You reach out your hand for the phone again, needing to talk to him and pull your best friend back from whatever emotional speech she might let loose next.

“I’m glad,” Iseul says, “now let me put y/n back on, I think she’s about to have an aneurism.”

You can hear Yunho’s laugh as she passes back the phone and you take it eagerly, “Hi, god, I’m so sorry about that,”

Iseul laughs and walks towards the bathroom to wind down and do her skincare and give you a brief moment of privacy, and you spin and walk towards the far end of the room near the window.

“It’s fine,” Yunho sounds warm and not at all upset, “I’m glad you have a friend like her,”

“Still,” You curl up into the armchair, “I didn’t mean to act so weird today or to corner you like this after such a long show,”

“Don’t apologize,” He soothes you, “I know this is a lot, and Iseul’s right, we need to be careful if we want to do this the right way,”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “still, I could have texted you and told you. I just got nervous,”

“I know,” He murmurs, “but in the future, you don’t have to be alone in that. I’m your guy.”

A smile tugs at your lips, “You are?”

“Mhm,” He says softly, “you don’t have to handle anything alone anymore, jagi.”

Tightness sinks into your throat and you nod, pushing back the telltale sign of tears, “I’d like that,”

“Good,” He murmurs, “now are you up for doing me a favor?”

“A favor?” Your brow furrows, “What’s wrong?”

“Not wrong,” He sounds so relaxed, so comfortable, and it puts you at ease, “but get your coat and map yourself to the location I’m sending you,”

“What?” You laugh, feeling your phone buzz as his text comes through.

“We’ll keep our distance,” He assures you, “but sweetheart, it’s snowing, and I am not missing the first snow with my soulmate in Paris,” he emphasizes, “so bundle up and get out here.”

You pull the curtain to the side, and sure enough there’s snow swirling in the air, falling in soft fluffy flakes.

“Oh, wow,” You breathe, taking in how a white blanket has already started to thicken up on the streets outside.

“Call me back when you get there,” He says, “okay?”

“Yeah,” You smile, soft warmth spreading through your body, “I’m on my way,”

You’re a whirlwind as you tug your coat back on, lacing up your boots and searching your bag for a pair of gloves. Iseul gives you one look when she sees you getting ready, but she smiles, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,”

“I won’t be long, I’m sure,”

She shrugs, “Be safe,”

“I will,”

She searches for something on the side table and tosses it to you, a small black piece of fabric, “Mask, don’t forget,”

“Got it,” You nod, affixing the mask to your face. The likelihood of you being photographed in Paris during a snowstorm when you weren’t even going to be next to Yunho was close to zero, but the risk wouldn’t be worth it.

“Go get your man,” She arches her brow suggestively and you groan, rolling your eyes and darting out of the hotel room before she can embarrass you anymore.

As quickly as you can, you map yourself to the pinned spot he sent and start walking. It’s hard to tell from the map, but as you get closer to the spot a few streets up from your hotel on the far side of the Seine you realize this is all it is, a street corner by the edge of the bridge.

There’s barely anyone around, especially with the weather, and you can’t see Yunho anywhere.

Tucking your coat closed around you, you find your phone and follow Yunho’s instructions.

He picks up your call immediately, “You there?” he asks, his voice sounding a little muffled.

“Yeah,” You breathe, looking around to see if you can spot him now, “Are you coming?”

“I’m already here,” He says, “look up, across the river under the light by the steps,”

You step close to the stone railing at the edge of the river, and sure enough under the street lamp directly opposite your corner, Yunho stands unmistakably tall under the light. You can’t make out the details of him from this far away, the river is wide enough that he could be just about anyone at this distance, but then the figure waves.

You can hear the smile in Yunho’s voice when he says, “Hi, baby,”

“Hey,” You relax into the railing, your stomach flipping pleasantly. You’re still not used to the way he’s tender with you, his pet names and how easily he sunk into being soulmates, but you trust him. It doesn’t matter how fast or how hard you’re falling, despite those fluttering nerves, you know he’s going to catch you, you feel it.

He hums pleasantly through the phone and you imagine him smiling, “Take a walk with me?” he asks brightly.

“Love to,” You murmur.

“I have a surprise for you,” He says, “it’s just around the bend of the river,”

“How did you have time to do anything? We just got to Paris last night,” The figure across the river starts to walk and so you follow, slowly making your way up the length of the river by the stone railing.

“Don’t get too excited,” He laughs softly, “I didn’t do anything,”

“Mhm,” The air is crisp and sharp, and you take in a deep breath, “I love snow,”

“Me too,”

“People always say I’m crazy, but I prefer winter over summer,”

“I do too,” He says, and you can almost picture him smiling, “I hate the heat,”

There’s a natural lull, a gentle pause in conversation, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You feel his presence with you as if he were walking right at your side, and it keeps you warmer than any scarf or padded coat.

Finally, Yunho breaks the companionable silence, “I always try to take a long walk in a new city,”

“Late night, like this?” You ask.

“It’s usually the only time I have,” He sighs, “I’m getting used to exploring places by street lamp,”

“I’d like to actually explore here during the day,” You say, “I’ve always wanted to come here,”

“Where else have you always wanted to go?”

You step around a couple nestled close together near the wall and continue on, boots crunching on the layer of snow ahead of you, “Everywhere,” you admit, “but I don’t know, there’s more of America to see, and I’ve never been to Australia. Vietnam maybe, or, oh, Iceland, I’d like to see the northern lights.”

“I’d love to take you there someday,”

“Take another long walk in the snow,” You offer, glancing across the river. It takes you a moment to find him as you both pass through a busier spot, but you see him pass under another street lamp and your heart is back at ease.

“y/n,” Yunho says after a beat, “are you sure you’re alright with Iseul knowing about us?”

You swap your phone to your opposite hand, tucking your frozen fingers into your pocket and nod even though he can’t really see that from this far away, “I am, she’s my best friend, I should have just told her.”

“I don’t think either one of us knows what we’re doing,” He reminds you, “and that’s okay.”

“Mm,” You sigh, a heavy cloud of vapor blooming in the icy air, “I do know one thing,”

“What’s that?”

Your stomach flutters nervously, but you press on, “I haven’t felt this happy or this cared for in a long time,”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then you hear his breath, “I feel the same way,”

“I just want to be on the plane now,” You admit, “at least then we’d be almost home,”

“Well,” He says, “don’t wish for it too soon,”

“What do you,” You start to say but he swiftly cuts back in.

“Look to your left, sweetheart,” He says warmly.

Your head snaps up, and you turn only to have the breath knocked out of you by this city yet again. There, across the river and beyond a large bridge in the distance is the Eiffel Tower, standing golden against the night sky.

“Oh,” You breathe.

“Wait for it,” He murmurs.

“What did you do?” You can’t stop yourself from grinning like a fool, but you expect that’s a common experience for tourists in love in this city.

“I didn’t do anything,” He laughs, “I just got the timing right, just wait,”

You step closer to the wide bridge, ornate with golden statues and arched to offer ferry boats passage underneath. All the while you keep your eyes locked to the tower, and blink away the dust of snow collecting on your eyelashes.

“Yunho,”

“Just,” He starts to say, his voice getting far away as if he moved the phone, “another minute,”

You tuck your scarf up around your face and wait, and then it starts to glitter. Blocks away but still standing tall before you in the distance, the golden monument starts to sparkle with the fast flicker of silvery lights.

“Oh,” You breathe, “I didn’t think I’d see it,”

“Mhm,” He murmurs, “you might have mentioned it in London,”

“Did I?” You can’t tear your eyes away.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you there properly,” He confesses, “or anywhere properly yet, but, someday I will,”

The glittering stops and you finally look away to try and find him again across the bridge, only he’s closer now and walking directly along your side of the bridge towards you. Your feet are moving before you can convince yourself otherwise, a magnetic pull straight to him.

The bridge is thankfully quiet, barely anyone on either side, and you both stop in the middle, both of your phones tucked into your respective pockets.

“Hi,” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles beneath his mask.

“Hey,” You sigh, “should we be doing this?”

“No one’s here,” He says, stepping closer, “just one minute,”

You nod, “One minute,”

“Listen,” He says, his hand brushing against yours again, “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too,”

Your heartbeat quickens.

“But we are almost home,” He says, “and once we’re there, we will make a plan. We will make this work, and I promise you, I’m more afraid of losing you than of losing all this,” he gestures towards the city around you.

“There’s got to be a way, other people who have done this,” You nod.

“We’ll find out,” He assures you, “just please, don’t pull away from me when things get hard or if you’re afraid. You can rely on me, you can trust me, I swear to you, y/n.”

You can feel the nervous knot in his chest, and you step close, resting a hand where you know his soulmark loops on his chest. When you let yourself feel him, focus on him, it’s clear to you just how anxious about your growing relationship he’s been. Soulmates or not you still have to walk the path together, and of the two of you, you’ve been less clear. His gestures, his gifts, the way he’s tried his best over the past few weeks to show you his true feelings and intentions, but you haven’t given him enough back to soothe that knot in his chest.

“Baby,” The endearment slips out and you feel him soften under your touch, “I’m here, I’m with you. I’m so fucking terrified, but not of you or of this.”

Snow sticks to his lashes, swirls in the air around you, but his exhale of ragged breath isn’t the cold, it’s relief.

“I’m worried I’m going to fuck it up somehow, of what will happen when people find out,” You confess, “and I’m so scared you’ll wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth the mess,”

“y/n,” He shakes his head, reaching for your cheek.

“I know, I know,” You catch his hand against your face, press a fast kiss to his palm through the fabric of your mask, “it’s just a fear, I just want you to understand where my head has been,”

He nods, a little crease between his brows.

“But I do trust you,” You tell him, “more than anyone, and I’ve been alone a long time, so I’m learning how to let myself rely on you, but I’ve never doubted you. Not before and definitely not now,”

“Come here,” He tucks your bodies together and tugs his mask down, “kiss me,”

You pull yours away, and you press up on your tiptoes to meet his eager mouth.

His nose is cold, and his fingers are icy against your cheek, but his lips are warm and soft and his broad body blocks the gust of wind and snow.

The knot of anxiety in his chest starts to ease, and you brush your fingers over his mark to seal your own promise back to him.

“Sweetheart, I,” He sighs, kissing you once more, letting his words fade on his tongue, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t said it like that before,” You say, “but I’m here,”

He nods, a soft smile on his mouth, and he leans over to kiss you once more in the snowy Paris street, the golden glow of the Eiffel tower still in your periphery.

When he pulls back, he rights his mask and you follow his lead, “It’s cold, let’s get back inside,” he says.

You can barely feel it, but you nod, “Okay,”

“Call me again,” He squeezes your hand once and then lets it drop, “I’ll walk you back,”

You smile, finding your phone and dialing him.

Yunho pulls his phone out, and starts to walk back across the bridge, but then he picks up, “Hello?”

“Hey, again,” You walk backwards slowly, watching him as he tucks the phone closer to his ear.

“Hi,” He says warmly, and then he turns to catch sight of you when he says, “I just met the prettiest girl in Paris,”

Butterflies roll through you, “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm,” He murmurs, “I think I’m falling for her,”

Easy warmth spreads through your chest despite the chill, “That’s so funny,” you tell him as you turn to round the corner of the bridge again, “I just met this guy,”

He laughs, and slowly you make your way back to the hotel. The conversation comes more easily now, the lingering threads of any tension dissipating with the wind. You talk about everything and nothing, how to tell the members and what you’re planning to have for coffee in the morning, and by the time you’re at the hotel the snow has slowed to a stop and the streets are empty except for you both, two long-distance lovers across the Seine.

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

The final day in Paris passes by in a blur just like the plane home. It’s always like this after a tour, the absolute exhaustion after weeks of adrenaline and travel, but this time all you want is to be home and it feels like you’re doing the epitome of just going through the motions to get there.

Yunho had texted you to sleep well on the flight, and you did, only to be shaken awake hours and hours later by Iseul when you were preparing to land. You had only woken up for one of the flight meals and a quick bathroom break, but now as you descend into Incheon you’re itching to get out of the seat more than you normally would be.

Home.

You can see it out the window, but you can feel it too.

Up until this moment, everything with you and Yunho had been on a delay, the reality of what you were to each other only something to fully reckon with after the tour, and now here you were.

Your fingers start to nervously drum against your knee as you prepare for landing, your heart picking up as you touch down, your leg bouncing in anticipation while the plane takes its time taxing to the gate.

Iseul gives your hand a squeeze when you finally make it off the plane and into the interior of the airport, only this time it’s not to calm your nerves, it's to remind you that you have a role to play. Today the crowd is thick, rows and rows of screaming, clawing girls and you feel your heart rate pick up immediately. They’re not here for you, they could honestly care less about you, but you still have to make your way through them as quickly and painlessly as possible.

The support staff is always split, half in front of the boys and half behind, an extra layer of bodies between them and the hands that so badly want to touch them. Girls that want their one moment, a quick press of skin on skin, seeking a confirmation of the bond they’re so convinced exists between them and their bias. It’s never bothered you before, just a hazard of being famous, but now you can’t help but feel like they know. One look at you and they can see right through all the careful lies, they can see your tattoo and his, a string knotted from your ribs to his, and you think they might kill you for it. It wouldn’t be the first time a deranged fan took things too far, and your stomach churns with every step as you leave the relative safety of the main gate.

Getting from the plane to the cars is a well oiled production. You’re used to sticking close to your team and a set of the support staff, head down, hat low, moving swiftly. There’s not much you can do about it unless you happen to be on a different flight, which has happened a time or two while you’ve been working with Ateez but it’s rare.

For weeks since you first felt the link between you and Yunho, you’ve been able to feel some echo of his emotions through the connection, but as you file off the plane and group up to start working through the crowd, the sensation of him goes quiet. You’ve seen the members as they walk, a crafted persona of friendliness over the full disassociation, but you never expected to feel some shadow of that yourself. Your nerves are swirling, but you take a few slow and steadying breaths, and alongside Iseul and the rest of your coworkers, you start walking.

It should be quick, it should be painless, but it isn’t.

Halfway to the doors, a body breaks through the guards to your side, making a desperate beeline for one of the boys behind you, the girl’s face streaked with tears and hands outstretched, her shoulder checking yours hard as she pushes her way through into the interior circle.

You stumble hard, footing unsure on the slick linoleum, your heart pounding suddenly in your chest.

You make a tight noise of surprise, hand outstretched to brace your fall as you collapse hard onto your left knee. Bodies bump into you on all sides, stumbling to not knock you over and trample you, but you still struggle to get your feet under you.

It’s loud in here, the sudden sound of fans and bodyguards, but you feel a spike of alarm shoot through your gut as he comes back online and reacts to your fall. You can’t turn around, but you feel him, and then all at once there’s hands hooking under your arms and you’re stumbling back up to your feet.

Yunho’s several paces back behind you, layers of bodies away, but despite that he lurches forwards, forgetting himself in the fray. There’s no cameras, no crowd, no thought of familiarity in his mind, only the singular truth that his soulmark is hurt and the need to get to you is all encompassing. A hard hand locks down on his bicep, another on his opposite shoulder. He has half a mind to throw whoever has him off, and then reality clicks back into place.

He watches as Iseul and one of the other managers hauls you back up to your feet while the bodyguards close ranks and remove the cloying girl.

San, his hand still locked around Yunho’s arm, leans in tight to his ear, “She’s fine, don’t.”

“You don’t,” Yunho starts to say but Seonghwa claps him on the shoulder again, squeezing him and trying to silently remind him the stakes here.

“Look,” San urges him as they keep moving, “she’s up, use your head.”

He focuses, and he watches the way you walk. Iseul is still pinned to your side but you’re not injured, just keeping your head down. He takes a tight breath and focuses on the feeling of the link, searching for your emotions under the bubbling rush of his own.

Seonghwa’s hand falls away as the group makes it closer to the door, but San stays steady bracing Yunho’s bicep.

Yunho blinks and focuses, and then he feels you. Your own heart is beating fast, a blanket of anxiety mixed with discomfort and blushing embarrassment. There’s no fear though, no pain, and he shudders a sigh in relief.

This kind of connection with another person is so singular and so maddening. He’s always cared for you, he would have wanted to help even if you weren’t his soulmate, but knowing that you are and feeling it all has him ready to tear the world apart for your smallest needs. He can understand now with perfect clarity why companies are so protective of skin on skin contact with their artists, why there’s no room for exceptions until positions are far more established. A young man with a soulmarked bond would ruin every scrap of his own career if it meant he could touch her, hold her, have her for just a moment.

“Breathe,” San bids him, “you’re staring,”

Yunho rips his eyes away from your back and looks to San, “It’s too much,”

San gives him a wide, idol smile and shakes his head, “Cameras, Yunho,”

He blinks and refocuses, finding his own photogenic smile and nodding towards the crowd. He waves, he nods, he does all the things a good little idol would do.

Warmth brushes over his chest, the feeling of your fingers along the loops of your tattoo and the tight fist around his heart loosens, breath finally filling his lungs the right way. Silently, you’ve told him you’re safe, you’re well. He can breathe.

You’re in separate cars though, and as you climb into the SUV with the rest of the makeup and hair staff, your hands start to shake.

“You okay?” Iseul finally asks as the doors close.

“Mm,” You sigh, leaning back into the soft seat, “I hate those crowds,”

She nods, “Security should have never let that girl get through,”

“She just pushed me aside,” You rub your tired eyes, “I can’t even believe someone would be that unhinged,”

“Mhm,” Iseul rolls her eyes, “well, when it’s her one chance to see if her precious Yunho-ya is her star crossed soulmate,”

A flicker of jealous anger sparks in your gut, “Is that who she was after?”

“Yeah,” A look of disgust passes over her face, “as if fate would actually match up an idol and a saesang, get real.”

You laugh, and someone else makes a comment about how cruel it would be if that actually happened, but you and Iseul are sharing a private look. Of course none of those girls are his soulmark, not when you’re sitting right here.

You shiver, you can’t stop thinking about the girl’s tear streaked face as she shoved you to the side. What would a fan like that think about you being her bias’s soulmate? You don’t even want to know.

The car pulls away, and you feel your phone start to buzz in your pocket. You fish it out and keep it close so no one next to you can see the screen.

Your body melts at the message.

Are you hurt, jagiya?

You tap out a quick reply, needing to not keep him waiting - I’m alright, it just startled me.

Bubbles pop up immediately as he types - I’ll have a talk with security, there’s no reason for staff to be that close to the fans like that. Too risky.

You’re in love with him already, it’s impossible not to be when he talks like this. You smile and write back - Don’t, we shouldn’t draw any attention. But it means a lot that you were worried about me.

Of course I worry - His first message flies in, and then another - I felt you fall, I nearly ran to get to you.

I’m glad you didn’t. We really can’t give anyone a reason to question things.

I know. But I wanted to, I never want anything to keep me from you when you need me.

Jeong Yunho…. - You write back, butterflies in your belly at his words - Are you trying to make me like you?

I thought we covered this, you don’t already like me? - You feel his warmth through the bond and you know he’s teasing.

You know I do. - If you said more you’d probably reveal how far in this you already are after a few weeks of a bond.

It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does your cheeks heat - I’ll have to work harder then, to make sure you feel as strongly as I do.

Your mark warms, a punctuated touch of his heart to yours.

Before you can reply he sends another message - You promise you’re not hurt at all?

Embarrassed mostly, and my knee hurts a little, but I promise it’s nothing serious, I wouldn’t lie to you. - You reply, touching your mark gently with your fingers to send back the same warmth, the same truth of your words.

When can I see you? I don’t think I can go days until our next schedule.

Tonight? You can’t help yourself.

Where?

Your stomach flutters at the thought of being alone with him again - My place? I live alone in Seongsu. It’s nothing special, but it’s private and it’s home.

Text me the address, I’ll find a way over.

You tap out your address and send it through - Please don’t get in trouble trying to come by.

I won’t - He replies instantly.

Iseul’s hand gently touches your knee and you look back up at her, “What’s up?”

“You want a ride home from the office?” She asks, eyes flicking down at your phone briefly.

“You don’t mind?” You ask.

She shakes her head, “You’re on the way,”

You nod, pulling your phone back out to send him a message - Iseul’s driving me home when we get to the office. Are you going to your apartment now?

Yes - He replies - Yeosang keeps yawning, when our managers leave and he goes to bed I’ll come by.

Aren’t you tired too? - You ask him.

I slept on the plane - He replies, and then another message comes through - If you’re tired you can sleep, I just need to be with you right now.

I slept too - You assure him - I’ll be up. Just message me when you’re close.

I will - He says.

You send him one last bit of instruction, a little safer if he can let himself into your place just in case anyone sees him coming by - It’s apartment 26B, Door Code is 10824*

He sends a heart in reply, and you tuck your phone back into your lap.

Soon, you’d finally be alone. After weeks and weeks of waiting, the ache in your chest would finally be soothed.

Even after Iseul drops you off at home, it takes him hours. By the time you get a message that he’s on his way you’ve nervously cleaned your tiny apartment three times over and ordered far too much take out just to be sure he has something to eat if he hasn’t gotten anything already.

When you hear him keying your door code in, your heart starts to beat double time.

He slips in quietly, dressed in a dark gray long coat, black ball cap, and black face mask, and if you didn’t know him just from the cut of his shoulders you could have easily mistaken him for just about anyone in a crowd.

“Hey,” You feel at ease immediately, and he looks up at the sound of your voice.

Your apartment amounts to a double wide hallway, your lofted bed above the entryway and bathroom, a small galley kitchenette along one wall, built-in storage and a desk, and then an extremely modest living space. The sight of him in your apartment is strange, he’s so tall he seems to fill up the space of the entryway, a surreal sight now that you’re home and not in random hotel rooms.

He kicks off his shoes to leave them by the door, and then he steps up into your apartment as he pulls his mask off, crossing the room in three easy strides to get to you.

“Hey,” He replies, his cold hands cupping your cheeks as he gets close, “there you are,”

“Here I am,” You smile, stepping closer to him and relaxing into his touch.

“I,” He shakes his head and his words falter a little, “I know you said you’re fine, I just… it’s nice to see for myself, I couldn’t shake that feeling,”

You soften at that, “Oh, Yunho, I’m okay,”

“I know,” He sighs, “I’m sorry it took me so long,”

“It’s alright,” You slide your hands into his jacket and rest your hands on his chest, “you’re here now,”

He folds you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you properly and cupping the back of your head with his broad hand, “I’m so glad to be home,”

Your heart flutters, “The tour felt like years,” you murmur, nuzzling into his chest.

“Mm,” He sighs, his body melting around you, “our managers wanted to talk about the upcoming week, and Hongjoong had schedule changes, and then Yeosang wouldn’t go to bed, he kept sitting in the living room, I thought I was going to scream,”

”It’s fine,” You smile against his sweater, “do you have a schedule tomorrow, then?”

“No,” He unfolds himself from around you, pulling his cap free and running a hand through his messy locks, “I’m off, I don’t have anywhere to be.”

Warmth fills you, “For how many days?”

“Three,” He grins.

“Me too,”

“Any plans?” He drops his hat and mask down onto your side table where your own keys and gloves are and steps close again.

”None,” You murmur, “sleeping,”

“Want some company?” He wraps his hand around yours.

“For three days?” Your eyes widen, “There’s no way you can get away for that long,”

“I worked it out,” He says, “waiting for Yeosang to get tired,”

“Okay,” You don’t want to let yourself be excited too soon.

“I’ll have to go back and pick up a few things,” He tells you, “but I told my manager that my brother might be coming up to town to see me after tour,”

“Okay,”

”And that I might drive down to Gwangju with him,” He smiles wider, “and that he could drop me back off before schedules pick back up.”

“Really?” Your hand tightens on his.

”Really,” He nods, “if you want me here, I’m here.”

For a split second you feel like you could cry, relief washing through you, and you dive forward to wrap your arms around his neck, “Stay, please, stay,”

He bends to accommodate your height difference, and ends up wrapping his arms around your back and lifting you in the air, “Good,” he sighs, “I hoped you’d say that,”

“Yunho, thank you,” You pull back enough to find his face, “god, I missed you,”

“Me too,” He confesses, “seeing you everyday but not really seeing you, I don’t want to do that again,”

“It’s so much harder than I thought it would be,”

He nods and gives you a soft smile, “We made it, though,”

“Yeah,”

He dips in and presses his lips to yours, and the last threads of tension unravel, everything else forgotten with his body so close to yours. Yunho sighs pleasantly, pressing close lipped, familiar kisses to your lips, before setting you back down on your feet and straightening back up to his full height.

Your hearts feel like they’re in sync.

He smiles at you again, and then finally glances around to take in the space around him, “Oh,” he says as he takes it in, “I like your place,”

“It’s small,” You shrug, “but it works for me,”

“That view,” He nods towards your floor to ceiling glass window, truly the only selling point of the apartment, “that’s something.”

You follow his eyes to the glittering city outside and nod, “It really is,”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the view, and then he sighs and looks back to you, “It feels nice to not have to rush away,”

You nod, “I know,”

You’re dancing around each other again, now that there’s no deadline hanging over your heads or threat that someone might walk by. You can simply exist.

“I’ve got takeout,” You offer, making the first move, “if you’re hungry, but if not it’ll keep,”

He smiles, “In a bit,”

“Let me take your coat at least,” You stretch out a hand, “get comfortable,”

He slides it off his shoulders and folds it as he hands it to you, “Thanks,”

You find a home for his coat in the entryway nestled on a hook next to yours, his shoes already placed neatly side by side with your sneakers. It looks so right, your life against his, and you let your fingers skate down over the back of his coat as you take it in, a smile pulling at your lips. He belongs here, in every way, and for the next three days you’d pretend his presence in your apartment was permanent, solid and immutable in the way it feels in your heart.

His coat, his shoes, and in a flash you see it all, flickers of a real life together. Toothbrushes, coffee cups, letters in the mail, his keys kissing yours in a dish by the door, books slotted together on the shelf, clothes tangled up in the laundry basket.

Your chest aches with need, but he just walked into your apartment for the first time, so you shake off those thoughts and turn to him, “What did you have in mind for tonight?”

“Honestly,” He grins, “being able to talk to you face to face is as far as I let myself get,”

“Way better than texting,” You smile back, “you want a drink? Beer? Wine?”

“Sure,” He nods, “Beer?”

You nod and take the two steps into the kitchenette to locate glasses and two cans of beer, calling over your shoulder, “Make yourself comfortable, are you sure you’re not hungry?”

”I’m okay,” You hear him settle onto the couch and it occurs to you that you’ve never had a man in your apartment, at least in the sense of a romantic partner. For years you were going to their places, strangely protective of your own little haven between these four walls, and yet with Yunho you feel comfortable enough already not just to let him inside, but to give him your door code without a thought.

You blink at the realization, almost letting his glass overflow onto the countertop as you pour. How strange the last few weeks have been, how different you already are.

“How long have you lived here?” Yunho asks, and you let the thoughts about what it all means fade into the background as you turn towards him.

“Um,” You do the math in your head, “a few years? Almost four now,”

“It’s a great place,” He says again.

You leave the two empty cans on the counter and cross the room towards him, “Yeah,” you nod, “It’s small, but it’s nice and accessible, and in this area anyways I really can’t beat the rent,”

“Mm,” He nods, “I wish I could say I know what you mean, but idol life is strange.”

“That’s right,” You nod, “you don’t pay for your place?”

You settle onto the small couch next to him as he answers, “It’s part of our contract so it’s provided, but if we were to leave the group before contracts are up we’d owe the money back,”

You grimace, “That’s terrible,”

He nods but it’s with a slight shrug, “Some companies are worse, KQ being small has its benefits in other areas so that’s never been much of a concern for us,”

“That’s good at least,” You nod, “and they treat us pretty well, all things considered.”

“Did you ever work anywhere else?” Yunho takes a sip of beer and makes a noise of satisfaction at the flavor.

You smile and tuck your legs under you, angling towards him on the couch, “After cosmetology school I worked at SM for about a year,”

“And?” He asks.

“Awful,” You groan, “The pay was terrible, and the schedules were worse. It felt like being an intern,”

“And then you came to KQ?”

You sip your beer, nodding as you do, “Iseul and I went to school together, she got me in as soon as a position opened up, really vouched for me considering I had a smaller portfolio than she did at the time,”

“I’m glad she did,” He smiles warmly.

“What about you?” You ask, “Was KQ your first choice?”

He turns towards you on the couch, his knees pressed against yours and he rests one arm on the back of your couch, “Not initially,” he admits, “but I had two other competing offers, and something just didn’t feel right about either. Then I met Hongjoong, and I guess you know, that’s it,”

“A little bit of fate,” You smile.

“Mm,” He nods, “fate, maybe luck, I don’t care what it was, I’m just happy to be with you now,”

Your cheeks heat a little, and you look down at the popping bubbles on the surface of your drink.

”I just wish it happened sooner,” He admits, his hand sliding over the cushions to touch your forearm.

You nod and look back up, “I know what you mean, but, maybe that’s another thing fate got right, maybe we’re finally ready for each other now.”

He laughs, “What was the word Iseul used? Skittish?”

You sigh, “Yeah, she’s not totally wrong. I used to have terrible taste in guys, or maybe I wasn’t comfortable opening up, I don’t know, but,”

Yunho gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “I get it,”

You cock your head, asking him a silent question.

“I’ve dated a bit,” He explains, “and I always thought maybe it was me, but no matter how nice or compatible someone was on paper it was just…”

“Dull?” You offer.

He nods, “Like I was sleepwalking through it,”

Your stomach bubbles with a nervous thrill, your chest constricting with anticipation, “And with me?”

His mouth turns up in a small smile, eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I’m more than awake with you.”

“Me too,” You confess.

It’s quiet for a moment, Yunho’s thumb sweeping a soft line over the veins in your wrist, and then he exhales and drops his glass off on the table.

“Yun?”

He smiles at the abbreviation of his name and takes your glass away too, “As much as I want to talk all night, and I do, I think I might actually die if I’m not touching you after all these weeks,”

He reaches for you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you over to his half of the couch. You squeak in surprise, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest and another on the cushions, but you end up pressed up against him and almost laying across his chest. Your body relaxes into him instantly, and Yunho lets out a relieved sigh. This, this is what you had been waiting weeks and weeks to feel again, the sureness of his body under your fingertips, the way your heart seems to slow and soothe with every touch.

“Anyways,” His voice cracks a little, a soft smile on his face, “you were saying,”

You’re nearly nose to nose, close enough to hear his breath, to feel the thump of his heart under your palm. His eyes flick over your face, his lips part, pupils dilating wider with every passing moment.

You try to remember where you were in the conversation, but with him so close and his hot hands on you, it’s all like a distant memory and you laugh lightly, “I have no idea,”

He grins, his hand brushing your face, the pad of his thumb tracing your cheekbone, and then without a single conscious thought you’re surging forwards to press your lips to his.

Yunho groans, hands tightening on your back, and when he starts to kiss you back it’s like the catch of a match under your skin, a crackle of need through every nerve ending. He kisses you with unmasked urgency, pulling little pants and moans from your lips every time you break for a breath.

His hands slide down, cupping your backside, and you hitch a leg over his as you push yourself higher on the couch, desperately seeking more of his hot mouth.

“Baby,” He breathes between kisses, his tongue flicking against yours as your mouth opens to him.

Your body rolls on instinct, pressing your clothed core against his thigh.

He groans again, pulling your body tighter against him and shifting the position of his leg so that his foot is flat on the floor, providing a hard, stable straddle for you.

You wish so badly in this moment you weren’t wearing jeans, uncomfortably stiff denim that doesn’t let you properly feel the heat of him, but that doesn’t stop you from rocking your body once, twice, and again as you pant against his mouth.

His fingertips slip under the waistband of your jeans, resting on your lower back while his free hand wanders around to your front, sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb ghosting over your pebbled nipple.

You feel dizzy, and you press back from his mouth to take a sharp inhale, “Ah, Yunho,”

He shudders, cupping your neck and pulling you back to his mouth. Mumbled against your lips he offers, “We can talk more,”

You shake your head, “You really want to talk, right now?” You smile, pushing yourself further onto his lap, nearly straddling him now as you dive back in for another heated kiss.

He groans, his hands flexing as they find anchor points on your hips, and he tugs you right into place with your pelvis slotted right over his. One of his hands skims up the back of your shirt, hot skin on skin, and you moan pleasantly into his mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He pants between wet kisses, “you’re killing me here,”

“Yeah?” Your stomach flutters with butterflies.

He hums a yes, tongue dipping into your mouth to catch on yours.

You can’t stop the little whine that leaves your lips, “Oh,” you roll your hips, “Yunho,”

His hips twitch under you, and you can feel the start of his erection as it hardens under your ass.

“Please,” You kiss him again, pushing your hips down and clinging onto his shoulders.

His hand snakes up higher under your shirt, and his fingers deftly close over the clasp of your bra. In a second he slides the fabric in just the right way to open the clasp, and you feel the support release as his hand slides up and down the bare expanse of your back.

“Fuck,” He shudders, “I’m sorry, I should have asked,”

“Shut up,” You dive back in, your fingers tugging at his sweater, “take this off,”

He kisses you hard once more and then pulls back, and you lean away still perched on his lap while he awkwardly tugs off the sweater, tossing it to the other side of your couch.

“Can I,” His hands slide under your shirt, circling your bare waist, his eyes tracking the way your shirt slides up, “Jesus, you’re gorgeous,”

“Off,” You raise your arms and he slides his hands up, pushing the shirt up and over your head until he’s discarding it on the floor.

When you look back down it nearly knocks the breath out of you. He’s staring at you like you’re a marvel, like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, and it draws your frantic pace to a blinding halt. He smiles softly, and his eyes skate down your body. Your bare neck, black bra straps loosely held on either shoulder, tattoos stretching down over your upper arms, over your elbows, stopping at mid forearm. The sheer mesh of your bra loosely cupping your breasts, nipples standing hard at attention through the fabric and the center of the underwire covering the top half of your red, looping soulmark.

He reaches for you slowly this time, one hand sliding to the back of your neck while the other skims up and down your arm, “Can I?” He asks again, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your bra.

You nod, breathless.

He hooks his fingers under one side and pulls, letting the strap drop and the mesh cup falls slack. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and slowly he loosens the other strap, your bra falling away and landing in your laps.

Your heart is hammering in your chest now, and your fingers tighten on the fabric of his crisp white t-shirt.

“So beautiful, baby,” He sighs, looking back up to your eyes, “you’re so perfect,”

You can’t find any words, the way he looks at you and touches you has you rooted to the spot.

“Can I kiss you again?” He slides his hands over your skin, still stroking your back and sides.

That snaps you back into reality, and you dip forwards to crash your mouth to his.

His arms wrap around you as yours knot into his hair, both of you a panting mess as you cling to each other on your sofa. Your bodies move in sync, his hands pressing just right as you roll your hips, only this time you can feel the hot press of his cock on your cunt through layers of fabric and you both moan at the contact.

“Yunho,” You exhale sharply, rocking again to try and catch more sensation.

“Jesus,” He pants, his hands locking down harder.

You shudder at the contact, and you’re about two seconds away from begging him to take you right here on the couch when he puts the brakes back on.

His hand slides up to catch your cheek, pushing your hair back and drawing your face away from his so he can look up at you, “y/n,” he says, voice a little hoarse, “that time on the phone,”

You nearly moan at the memory of your silent orgasm, his voice in your ear, but you manage to nod.

“DId you,” He starts and then backtracks, “I mean, you didn’t mind, or I guess what I’m asking is you weren’t, you know, uncomfortable,”

His cheeks are turning pink as he talks, and you have half a mind to let him muddle through the thought, but you want his mouth on yours again and you cut him off, “You mean the best orgasm I’ve had in years?”

He blushes properly then, his ears a frighteningly dark shade of pink and he clears his throat, “So you liked it?”

Warmth blooms in your chest and you smile, leaning closer to him, your fingers tangling into his hair again, “Yunho,” you murmur, “are you asking if you can boss me around a little?”

You’re nose to nose again, and his eyes search yours, “A little,” he concedes.

“Boss away,” You grin, pressing your lips back to his, but he shakes his head.

“Slow down,” He catches your hands in his and closes them together, pulling you back from him.

Your brow knits together, “I’m getting mixed messages,” you glance down at your bare chest.

His eyes flick to your breasts and back up and he huffs a soft laugh, “Sorry,” he manages, “I just meant we should talk,”

“So much talk with you,” You tease him lightly, “I think I liked the kissing,”

“Think?” His eyebrow quirks but then he shakes his head, “You’re a flirt, you do a hell of a job distracting me,”

“Distracting you from what?”

He reaches up, brushing the pad of his thumb over your lips, “Stop pouting,” he says, “I’m trying to be respectful, here,”

“I’m feeling pretty respected,” You slip one hand out of his grip and tug at his t-shirt, “kiss me again, let’s double check.”

He laughs properly this time, shaking his head, “I don’t know if it’s a soulmate thing or a you thing, but God, you know all my buttons, already, don’t you?”

“I’m confused,” You relax in his lap a little, arms folding over your chest to cover yourself, “we were making out and it was perfect and now,”

He nods, “I know, let me explain,”

You wait for him to say more, the soft silence his opening.

“We know each other,” He finally says, “but I don’t know what you like in bed,”

“Oh,” Your shoulders relax a little, “well, traditionally we would have sex and figure that out,”

He rolls his eyes at you a little, a smile still on his lips, “y/n,”

“Sorry, sorry, go on,”

His hands settle over your thighs, “Every time we touch it feels like a fire,” he confesses, “and I’m trying not to lose my mind before we have a chance to talk about any of the important things, I don’t want to cross a line, I don’t want you to feel rushed or uncomfortable with anything,”

You sigh, about to say more but he shakes his head and continues.

“Without talking I won’t know what you don’t want,” He says, “or even if you want tonight to be the night, if you’re on birth control or if we should use condoms,”

The thought of that sparks a clarity in you like no other and you realize he’s right, you were both so close to losing yourselves you could have made a mistake of the whole night. You blink, nodding this time.

“And I’m afraid if we keep going like this,” He continues, “if we go upstairs without talking, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to walk away without fucking you and making you mine tonight.”

Your heart thumps in your chest. You’ve never been held like this, talked to like this, no one in your life has ever searched for your boundaries on their own quite like this, with sex or otherwise and you know suddenly with perfect truth what this night is going to be.

You nod, and then you smile, “Can I talk now?”

“Please,”

“I’m on birth control,” You start off with the easiest answer, “and I’ve been tested since my last partner, so as long as you have too we can go without condoms,”

“I have,” He nods immediately, “it’s been a while and that’s part of our regular health screenings,”

“Good,” You let your arms relax now, resting your hands on his shoulders as you keep going, “so that’s one thing cleared up,”

He smiles.

“As for the rest,” You hold his gaze, “I liked how you talked to me on the phone very much,”

He swallows hard.

“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re asking,” You let your thumb rub over the pulse point in his neck, “so let me be clear, I like that. I like that you want to take control, and I like that you want to tell me what to do. Very much.”

He nods, “And,”

“I’m not the type to do something I don’t want to,” You promise him, knowing it’s as much of a promise to yourself after everything you’ve experienced in past relationships, “if something isn’t right for me, I’ll say it.”

His shoulders relax under your touch, “Good,”

“My guess though,” You nudge him, “is that we’re pretty compatible if the universe thinks so too,”

“I thought so,” He murmurs appreciatively.

You lean a little closer to him, and his arms slide around your back to hold you as you muster up the courage for the next part of answers to his questions, “For what I like,” you start, “let’s figure out the details together.”

He nods.

“For what I don’t like,” You tell him softly, “um,” your voice cracks a little with nerves and discomfort, a tone you were hoping to conceal at least for tonight.

He watches you fumble over the words, a little crease between his brows as he tries to parse out what’s behind your tone, his thumb dragging a comforting line over your vertebrae.

You sigh heavily and tell him your boundaries in a rushed breath, “Don’t pull my hair too hard, and if I’m ever using my mouth on you, just tell me before you move, alright? We can figure the rest out as we go,”

His expression smooths, and his eyes study yours with the start of a question. You didn’t want to go here, not for a while, but something about your connection with him or maybe even just his earnestness makes you tell him more than you ever normally would.

Again, as he always seems to, he senses the sudden tension in your chest and simply nods before touching your cheek gently, “Anything else?”

You shake your head.

He watches you carefully, his touch soft, and then with easy comfort he finds a question, “Do you want to tell me?”

There’s no demand in it, no insistence, only the offer of an outstretched hand, a listening ear. The momentary tightness relaxes inside you and you shake your head, “Not tonight,”

He wants to ask more, you can see it, but your past sexual experiences no matter how clumsy or good or borderline traumatic should have no space in your night here with him. He’s worried though, you can see that too.

It’s quiet for a beat as you take that in, and he nudges you gently, “You okay?”

“Mhm,” You nod, “I promise, but let’s not talk about it tonight,”

“Alright,” He draws you close, a soft kiss to your lips.

You return the kiss warmly, pressing the promise of later honesty into your intention and he nods, reading you with ease.

“Yunho,” You murmur as you part, “I do want it to be tonight,”

“You do?” He confirms, hand sliding up and down your bare back.

“I want this,” You cup his cheek, “I want us, and I don’t want to wait anymore,”

“Say that again,” He lets your words from a moment ago fade, focusing on what you’re telling him now.

“I want this,” You pull at his t-shirt again, restless energy creeping its way back into your body.

“Not that,” He dismisses, “the other thing,”

You know just what he wants to hear, but you play dumb for just a moment, “I don’t want to wait anymore?”

His hand tightens on your backside, “y/n,”

“Us,” You smile, “I said I want us,”

“That’s it,” He kisses your smile, “I like the sound of that,”

“I want us.” You repeat for him, lips to his, “Now, please, will you take me to bed and make me yours? Or do I have to beg?”

He groans, “Let’s go to bed,”

“So easy,” You tease him, sliding off his lap and reaching for him.

He pushes himself off the couch but slides his hand into yours and tugs you close again, “I’ll make you beg another time,”

Your stomach flip flops, arousal spiking through you and he smirks at your dazed expression.

“Cute,” He taps your nose and steps towards the stairs, “you’re sure?”

You’re about to protest again, a heavy sigh brewing in your gut, but he clears his throat and continues.

“On tour,” His eyes shift to the floor for a moment, “I know you were anxious about us, and we talked about waiting. I’ll… I know I want you, and I’m going to keep wanting you. I can wait if that’s what you need, we can date,”

The one good thing about the tour and all your sleepless nights was how long you had to think about this, about him. Your initial panic and fear over logistics and what-ifs had faded in days. He’s here, standing in your apartment, so you trust your gut, and you trust fate, and decide for once in your life to let someone in.

You step close and pull him towards you, “Yunho, I don’t want to date,”

His eyes flick to yours, his irises dark, “You don’t,”

“I said I want us,” You take his hands in yours and direct them to your hips, “I know what that means,”

His eyes study yours for a moment, and then he sighs, “Good,” he pulls you up into his hold and crashes your lips together.

This time there’s nothing between you, no schedules or secrets, no indecision or questions keeping you from letting go. With both eyes open you’re diving into each other, and nothing in the world could stop you from tying yourself to him tonight, body and soul.

You feel him shift on the landing as you kiss, and you pant a single word against his mouth, “Bed,”

He nods, stumbling up a few steps without breaking your lips apart, one of his hands secure on the railing to guide him upwards.

You giggle as he tips to the side and rights himself, leaning back and looking down to see how far up he managed to get you both, “Let me down,”

He eases you to your own step.

“Get up here,” You tug his hand and take the familiar steps to your loft bed as quickly as you can, dragging him behind you the whole way.

Once you hit the landing you take your hand back and start unbuttoning your jeans, but you stop at the sound of a soft thump and Yunho’s soft curse under his breath.

Turning you realize the issue, he’s too tall for your landing’s slanted ceiling, and he must have bumped his head on the way up to your bedroom. You laugh sharply, covering your lips to stifle the sound, “Sorry,” you grin, “are you okay?”

“Fine,” He rubs the spot, but shakes it off.

You turn back to the bed and tug the downy comforter open, “You’re too tall, when we get our own place we’ll get high ceilings,”

Something warm floods your chest and then he’s on you again. Yunho spins you around and dips to kiss you, only this time there’s an edge to it, a neediness. He walks you back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and then he wraps his arms around you and pushes you down in one smooth motion.

Yunho slots himself between your thighs, and you hitch your legs onto his hips as he presses you into the mattress with hungrier and hungrier kisses.

His lips travel over your jaw, your throat, “You said when,”

“Hmm?” Your brain feels cottony and light already and you turn your head just a little to hear him again.

His hand drags down to the top of your jeans, tugging at the zipper, “You said when, not if,”

“Yunho,” You smile, gasping as his teeth nip at your throat, “we’re about to tie ourselves together for life, did you think I haven’t thought about living with you?”

He groans, “You’re perfect,”

You thread your fingers through his hair, “So are you,”

He tugs artlessly at the top of your pants and sighs, “Need these off,”

“Take them off me,” You relax your legs, and he shifts back to stand, looping his thumbs in your belt loops so that when he tugs your jeans, they slide off in one smooth motion and drop to the floor.

“Oh,” He says softly, getting a good look at your now bare legs and the lines of ink that cover so many inches of your skin, “wow,”

You’ve never been self conscious about your tattoos before, not like this, and you find yourself letting your legs fall closed, “Oh?”

”I didn’t realize you had more,” He comments but his expression softens into a smile, “they suit you,”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” His hands slide up and down the plush curve of your thighs, “later you can tell me all about them,”

Your stomach flips pleasantly.

“Right now though,” He pushes your legs back open and drops back over you, slotting your bodies together and capturing your lips.

You sigh pleasantly against his lips, wrapping your limbs around him and drawing him closer, and when his hips drop just enough for your core to press firmly against the front of his jeans you moan.

Yunho groans, his hands wandering.

You roll your hips, pressing yourself more firmly against the hard bulge of his clothed cock, “S-shirt off,” you pant, tugging at the fabric.

He reaches back with one hand and grabs the back of his t-shirt and tugs, yanking it free with ease with only the briefest interruptions to your locked lips. When he presses closer to you this time, your bare chest is pressed against his.

Your brain feels like dizzy stars, like someone picked you up and turned you around in endless circles until you couldn’t help but stagger in his direction, falling over yourself to hold onto him. His hips thrust gently, pushing his hardness insistently at your cunt and you moan into his mouth, your hot breath mingling together in panting sighs.

“Yunho,” You whine, your core pulsating with need.

“Yes, pretty girl?” He smiles against your lips, his hand skimming over the curve of your breast, down your side to anchor on your hip.

You can’t wait anymore, if you do you might combust, and you reach between your bodies to tug at his belt buckle.

He huffs a laugh, “Yeah?”

“Please,” You work the leather loop free, “I’m way more naked than you,”

“Patience,” He nips at your lip.

His button is open with a frantic tug of your fingers, then his zipper, “I’ve been patient,” you push at his jeans, “baby, please, I need you,”

“I need you too,” He balances himself on one hand braced on the bed, shimmying out of his pants, and you hook your fingers in the elastic of his boxer briefs to push at those too.

“Please,” You find yourself begging so easily at the thought of this man pushing inside you.

“Relax,” He kisses your forehead, tapping your hand out of the way so he can take off his own underwear, “I got it,”

You ease back on the bed, but between the space of your bodies you watch him. Your mouth runs dry when he’s finally bare for you, and your heartbeat starts to pick up.

The size of him is intimidating to say the least. He’s long, at least nine or ten inches if you were guessing, but what’s more is how thick he is. His cock is heavy, the kind you’d see in porn and wonder how the women on screen could take it. You can see every vein, the way it stands perfectly straight, the velvety mushroom head already dark pink and slick with the first few beads of precum.

Yunho settles back above you, his hot, thick length resting on the top of your pubic mound, only the thin cotton of your panties keeping you from feeling him fully.

”God,” You breathe, still taking him in, “I hope you’re good at foreplay,”

He squeezes your hip, “We’ll take it slow,”

You nod, still fixated on the sight of him between your legs, and you try not to think about how far up your stomach his cock comes and what that means for when he tries to put it inside you. Instead you focus on the fact that he’s yours, “We were made for each other right?” You joke softly, “I can take you,”

He smooths your hair back and tilts your head up, finding your eyes, “We’ll go slow,” he reiterates, “have you ever been with someone my size? Or used any toys like that?”

For all the sex you’ve had, his question makes you feel a bit like a blushing virgin and you shake your head.

Something flashes in his eyes, and you feel the twitch of his cock against you.

“You like that?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from teasing him too much.

He brushes past your question, “Let me warm you up,”

Easy relief blooms in your chest, your muscles starting to relax, and he settles his body over you properly to take you right back into a tender kiss. You can feel him hard and present between you, but he distracts you with open mouthed kisses, his hands exploring you slowly until your hips are twitching on their own.

You’re dripping wet, there’s no way you’re not soaking through the thin fabric of your panties, but his kisses continue like that’s the last thought in his mind. He makes his way across your jaw, sliding lower down your body as he lavishes attention on your neck, over the jut of your collarbones, across the smooth plane of your chest and tops of your breasts.

“Oh, yes,” Your voice is breathy as he slides even lower in the bed between your thighs, his mouth skimming over the swell of your tits, ghosting past your nipples.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, hands cupping your chest and drawing your breasts together, his teeth sink into his lower lip at the sight.

“Y-yeah?” Your hips arch beneath him, “You like me?”

A smile tugs at his lips, one hand sliding up to your cheek as he looks up, “I more than like you, y/n,”

Your breath is caught in your throat, your heart quickening in your chest.

Yunho smiles a little at that, feeling the echo of your emotions himself, and then he dips his face to kiss your chest again. This time his lips travel in a smooth, reverent line down your sternum until you feel his breath against your looped tattoo.

Pleasure sparks inside you and you moan softly, one of your hands threading into the back of his hair.

He hums pleasantly, and then kisses your mark.

“Yunho,” You sigh, heat flooding your body.

He kisses you again, pressing a peck to each of the four corners of the knotted diamond, before centering another again and pouring every ounce of his feeling into it through the link. This time, he murmurs what you already know against your skin, “I love you,”

Tears gather in your eyes, the feeling spilling over into you so all encompassing that it fells you. You tremble in his arms, your eyes locked to the white ceiling above you as you try desperately to steady yourself in the wave of emotion and sensation.

His kisses start to travel lower, and your fingers card through his hair, “Y-Yunho, I,”

“Shh,” He shakes his head, lips moving down over your belly as he shifts lower, “just relax,”

A little piece of you wants to protest, wants to tell him that you love him too, but he settles between your thighs and slides your legs open wider to accommodate his broad shoulders, and every coherent thought flutters right out of your brain.

Yunho kisses your inner thigh, easing himself into the perfect position, and then he wraps his arms around your hips under your splayed thighs, one hand braced on your rib cage and the other closing over your abdomen.

His nose gently, gently nuzzles against your clothed mound and you hear him breathe you in.

You shudder, moaning softly, your hand finding his hair once again.

“I’ll take good care of you,” He murmurs low, kissing your cunt, “I love you so much,”

“Oh,” Your breath catches as he tastes you through the fabric of you underwear, “p-please,”

His hand on your abdomen shifts, and he reaches between your thighs to tug your underwear to one side, hooking it under his thumb to hold it in place. You gasp as his warm breath caresses your slit, your hand sliding to brace his shoulder.

“I got you,” He soothes you, his free hand sliding up and down on your ribs, “I promise,”

A needy sound stutters from your throat.

At the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds, Yunho groans and you start to tremble properly in his hold. It feels like liquid fire, better than any touch you’ve ever felt, partner, toy, or or own fingers. Yunho’s lips, his tongue, each little brush of his fingers, every bit of him feels like it was divined for you, and you won’t last a minute.

“Feel good?” He checks, sliding his tongue through your lower lips again.

“Incredible,” You pant, your hips canting to try and catch more sensation, “I, I c-can’t,”

He chuckles, the vibrations running straight up your body, “You taste like heaven, baby,”

Moaning, you grip down on his shoulder.

“Mm,” He dives in properly, nestling close and all but kissing your cunt, “god,”

His tongue drives any coherent thoughts out of your head as he gets the feel for your body, the firm tip sliding over your clit and making you jolt under his hands.

“Y-yes,” You manage, nodding into the pillows.

“Here?” He breathes, flicking your swollen clit again.

“Oh, yes, god,” You grip the sheets.

He hums, his hands tightening on your skin, and then he closes his lips over your bud and sucks.

“Oh!” You arch back, hand flying up to catch his head and brace yourself, “Fuck, fuck,”

He stays steady this time, sucking and lapping at you in a perfect rhythm, holding you in place as he finds the perfect combination to have you scrambling in the sheets.

“Baby,” You moan, the word turning into a heady whine.

He groans against you, dragging you tighter to his mouth with a flex of his arms. Your head spins as you slide down the mattress, a bubble of taut pleasure building inside you fast and hot.

“Please,” You moan, your back arching as he delivers a sharp suck.

His broad hand slides up from its place anchored on your side to cup your breast, and you look down to watch him move. His fingers deftly find your nipple, twisting and pinching gently, and as he takes a breath between licks and sucks to your dripping cunt, his eyes flash up and meet yours.

A smile flicks across his wet face, and your eyes roll as you collapse back into the bedding to let him work.

“That’s it,” He huffs as he sucks in another breath, tongue diving back inside you, pulsing and thrusting.

Your thighs start to shake, your body jerks on its own, and he finds the perfect tempo to take you through - his thumb swiping sharply over your nipple back and forth, his mouth working you up higher and higher with a sustained pressure.

The bubble of pleasure arcs up your spine and then settles back down, low in your belly, and you gasp sharply, “God, oh, god,”

He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t change a single thing, he stays steady and that brings you right up to the very edge.

“I’m,” Your eyes snap shut, your body shuddering, “I’m, c-coming, Yunho, I’m… baby, I’m,”

He moans through your babbled pleas, and then you break apart beneath him. Your orgasm crashes into you like a wall of heat, and your body wrenches up tight into fits and starts, legs snapping shut around his ears, fingers knotted in his hair, your free hand braced on the wall behind you as your body jerks itself in rolling grinds against his eager mouth.

He eases you through it, transitioning from sucks to lazy licks with the flat of his tongue, until you’re boneless and melted under him, your legs falling slack open as your eyes stay unfocused on the ceiling.

“Okay,” His low voice comes back to you, and you feel his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs, a kiss to your knee, “that’s it,”

A shiver runs through you, your body suddenly cold at the lack of contact and you take in a sharp breath.

“I got you,” He shifts over your legs, crawling up the bed so he can collapse along your one side, and he wraps you up in his arm.

His cheeks are pleasantly pink, hair a chaotic haystack, his mouth is still glistening from your slick wetness, and he grins down at you breathlessly, “Hey,”

“H-hi,” You sigh.

“Feeling good?” He cups your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

You nod, relaxing into his touch, “Mhm,”

“Good,” He presses a warm kiss to your forehead and draws you into him to let you recover.

You melt into his touch, cheek to chest.

Yunho brushes his fingers up and down your spine and gets his own breath back.

After a few more moments, you sigh, shaking out the post-orgasm haze and kiss his skin, “I’d say I’m warmed up now,”

He huffs a laugh into your hair, “Eager,”

“Aren’t you?” Your hand slides over his bare side.

“I am,” He squeezes you.

Feeling starts to come back into your body and you smile, wriggling in his arms until you’re in a better position and able to follow his earlier lead. You nip gently at his chest and pepper him with kisses, and you smile when you hear his contented sigh and pleased hum. His fingers slide up and down your back as you try to give him a taste of every sensation he gave to you.

At his mark, you follow his kisses exactly, and you feel him twitch, his hard length pressing into your belly where you have his cock trapped between your bodies.

You linger here a moment, “You feel that?”

At your punctuated kiss against his soul mark he sighs, “I can feel you,”

You nod, nuzzling into him, “You’re mine,”

“Completely,”

“I’m yours,” You murmur, promising him the same.

“Mine,” He breathes.

Your kisses travel lower as you work your way down the smooth plane of his abdomen, his muscles twitching under your lips, but as you settle yourself over his hips and work your mouth closer and closer to the base of his cock he shifts under you.

“Hey,” He catches your hands, closing them in his own, “I’m fine,”

“I want to,” You smile, a tender kiss to the underside of his shaft before you let your tongue trace up the seam of his thick member.

He gasps, hips twitching, but he shakes his head, “Wait, wait,”

You pull back immediately and look up, a swirl of feelings knotting in your gut, “What?”

He swallows hard and slides his hands up your arms, hooking under your upper arms so he can tug you back up to lie next to him eye to eye, “Not tonight,”

“I want to make you feel good,” Your hand snakes between you, searching for him.

“You do,” He sighs as your hand closes around him, “you are, but after what you said,”

It feels like a bucket of cold water and your hand falls away from his cock. You hate your ex so much for being anywhere near your head at this moment with this man, but he is. He never hurt you, but the way he pressured you and pushed you into things you weren’t ready for has been an ever present shadow in your sex life even now, years and multiple partners later.

Yunho kisses your lips and tries to keep his tone light, “Another time,” he tells you, “I don’t want to hurt you,”

“It’s not,” You fumble over your words again, “it’s not bad, I’m alright, I want to,”

He smiles and shakes his head, “I’d be more comfortable,”

That takes the wind right out of your sails, and you sink into him, “Oh,”

“You want to make me feel good?” He asks.

You nod.

His hand slides down your arm, drawing your own hand to his aching cock, and he closes your fingers around it, “Touch me, then, we’ll have time for the rest later,”

He’s hot in your hand and you take in the weight of him as you slide your fist up and down to explore him.

He groans, “Again,”

You pump your hand once more, base to tip, rolling your wrist experimentally this time as you work his tip. Leaving any thoughts of the past behind, you focus on him entirely.

“You’re s-so good at this already,” He sighs, “just like that,”

Your bodies shift to accommodate, he cuddles you closer with one arm wrapped around you and your legs tangled together, and slowly you start to learn his body too. The way he twitches as your fist drops down to the base and squeezes, his gasp when your knuckle brushes up over the seam of his cockhead. His eyes blow wide when your thumb collects a bead of precum to rub up and down his shaft, and he moans when your fingers tighten and release.

His free hand snakes between your bodies, finding your slippery center again like he’s been touching you for years.

“Oh, Yunho,” You part your thighs.

He groans, eyes slipping closed for a moment, “You’re so wet,”

You moan as he slides his fingers lower, teasing your entrance with his fingertips.

“Needy,” He murmurs.

You do your best to focus on him, but the pressure of his fingers at your wet opening has you jerking your hips. Your hand tightens on his shaft and he sucks in a sharp breath, nodding. His cock feels so right in your hand, thick and pulsing, and you shiver, “I should have known you’d be huge,” you giggle against his shoulder.

He smirks, “Yeah?”

“You’re tall,” You start.

He pulls his fingers back away from your pussy, dragging the pads of his fingertips over your clit as he does and you moan, a whiny needy sound from the center of your throat.

“Not all tall guys,” He starts to say but you pump your hand just right and he curses.

“Mm,” You slide closer to him if at all possible, “but you’re big everywhere,”

You punctuate your words with a gentle tease of his cockhead, the pad of your thumb rubbing a circle into the seam that made him pant before, and he twitches, his eyes rolling.

He swallows tightly and smiles, “Am I?”

“Mhm,” You nip his chest lightly with your teeth, pumping your hand again nice and slow, “big feet, big hands…”

“Been thinking a lot about my hands, sweetheart?” He teases, dragging his nails lightly up and down your thigh.

“Shut up,” You duck your face, planning to double down your efforts on his cock, but he pushes your hand away and rolls you smoothly onto your back. You drop back with a squeak, your eyes flying up to his.

“You have,” He teases, sliding his palm down your body, a slow and torturous pace on the path to your cunt once again.

“Maybe,”

”Fantasizing about my fingers?” His voice is low, warm in his chest, and he slowly presses his middle finger over your clit.

“Oh, fuck,” Your head drops back, eyes finding the ceiling once again only this time Yunho makes a soft noise, his tongue against his teeth and he shakes his head.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He murmurs, his fingers rocking gently over your swollen bud.

You are a little, but there’s something in his tone that tells you he likes it and you think about the way his eyes flashed at the idea of being your first partner his size. With every little touch you’ve been figuring him out, and this suddenly feels like he’s allowing himself to want you in the way he needs. If he wasn’t so good at pressing all your buttons you’d try to tease him again, but when you meet his eyes and see the heat behind them, all you can do is melt.

His next words leave you breathless, “I fantasize about you,”

“Y-you do?”

“All the time,” He nods, his hand between your thighs getting bolder as he explores your wet folds.

“Please,” Your hips arch as the tips of his fingers pass over your entrance again.

“Oh baby,” He groans, and you feel his hard cock twitch against your thigh, “you need it?”

You nod, reaching down to find his wrist, tugging him to communicate while your head feels so full of fuzzy pleasure.

“Fuck it,” He bites his lip as he looks down at you squirming in the sheets, “I’ll tease you later,”

“Thank g-,” The words die on your lips, punched out of you when he slides two of his impossibly long fingers deep into your cunt in one push.

He doesn’t wait for you to beg this time, with his eyes glued to your every expression, he reads your pleasure and starts to pulse his hand, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering core with strong, steady strokes.

“Yes, yes,” Your legs widen, and you collapse into his shoulder, “oh my god,”

His fingers feel thick and warm in your cunt, crooked just right to reach spots you could only hit with toys, and even then the feeling of those pale in comparison to him.

“I knew you’d feel good,” He pushes your legs open wide with his free hand, “can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,”

Pleasure arcs up your spine and you moan, your hand flying to his bicep and gripping down hard, “Fuck,”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder as he adjusts his position and in torturously slow pumps of his hand, he starts to work you open. He scissors his fingers wide as draws them out, and when you feel him push in a third finger as deep as he can go, you shudder against the sheets.

“So tight,” He murmurs, the words sounding like praise on his lips, “you’re squeezing my fingers, pretty girl,”

Your cunt clenches in response and he chuckles.

“Exactly like that,” He smiles and thrusts his fingers in and out again, increasing his pace as your breath starts to quicken.

“Y-Yunho,” You jerk against him, the bubble of a building orgasm once again gathering low in your gut and you scramble in the sheets until you’re legs are open as wide as possible, one leg hitched over his. You can’t stop watching him now, the lean muscle of his arm, the way the tendons in his forearm twitch with his movements. Pushing up on your forearms you catch sight of his index, middle, and ring fingers gathered tightly together, glistening with your wetness as they plunge in and out of your fluttering cunt.

“So beautiful,” He groans, kissing your temple and wrapping his free arm around your back to adjust to the position change, giving his arm enough leverage that he can keep thrusting in and out.

You moan at the heady sensation of his fingers at your g-spot, hips pushing down into his hand.

“Want you to come again,” He says hotly against your hair.

You nod, heels digging into the mattress as your body jerks, needily meeting each stroke of his fingers with your hips.

“Tell me,” He says.

“H-harder,” You beg him, sensation cascading through you, “harder, baby, please,”

“God, yes,” He adjusts, and suddenly you’re pinned back to the mattress flat on your back, one of Yunho’s broad hands stretched wide on your sternum to pin you in place as he fucks you open with the other.

Perfect, almost painful pleasure has your eyes slamming shut and a desperate whine on your lips, “Oh, oh, oh,” each push in of his fingers punches out a breathy moan, your pussy fluttering as he draws you up to the peak.

“Tell me you’re close,” He pants, “I want to hear it,”

Your nerve endings light up, your body arching under the hard press of his hand, “I’m so close, I’m so f-fucking close,”

“Come for me, baby,”

Your nails dig into his thigh, the pressure mounting inside you, “Again,” you manage, begging for more.

His fingers curl, just a little more, “Come,” he says it again, only this time his tone is sharper, deeper and more direct. It’s not a question, not a wish or a hope, it’s a command.

Your free hand claps over your mouth, stifling a moan and you bite down on the fleshy heel of your hand to keep from screaming.

“Come,” He holds you steady, “that’s it, let go, let it all go, baby,”

Your body erupts into ecstatic shakes, pleasure rolling through in wave after wave, but all you can do is let it.

“Just like that,” He groans, “fuck yes,”

This time, as your orgasm starts to abate, he doesn’t kiss you tenderly or wrap you up for a cuddle, this time he’s just as frantic as you are.

“I need you,” He pants, his body over top of yours once again, “y/n, fuck,”

You blink hard, still a trembling mess, and you see his own desperate expression. His cheeks are pink, brow slick with sweat, pupils dilated with desire as he opens your legs and crowds you with his body.

“T-talk to me,” He manages, his hand directing his weeping cock to your throbbing entrance, “tell me you still want this,”

“I want this,” You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him closer, “I want you,”

“God,” He’s shaking, his body taut like a rubber band about to snap, and somewhere inside you you can feel the amount of self control he’s exhibiting just to go slowly.

You moan sharply when his tip drags over your throbbing clit.

“You’re so wet,” He pants, watching between your bodies as he slicks the head of his cock between your folds.

“For you,” You breathe, your head feeling cottony.

“So pretty,” The head of his cock nudges against your entrance and you shiver.

Need sparks through you, “Please,” you tug at his hip, just a little and he smiles.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” He manages, his weight collapsing a little as he slowly starts to push his hips forwards.

You gasp as you start to feel him, your cunt still swollen and pulsing from two back to back orgasms, and his eyes snap up.

Yunho watches your face carefully as he moves, his body strung tight as he tries to hold onto a thread of composure. It feels normal at the start, but as he pushes in past the head, you feel yourself start to stretch wide in a way you’ve never experienced and your breath starts to quicken.

“Oh, fuck,” You look between your bodies, watching his slow sink into your wet heat, and swallow tightly at just how much of him is left to take.

“You okay?” He asks breathlessly.

“Uh-huh,” You manage, “I can feel everything, but god, don't stop,”

He hisses, gripping your thigh with his free hand, fingers still slick with your juices, fighting the urge to lose himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes flicking over the expression of tight pleasure on your face.

“Don’t you dare pull out,” You grip down on his shoulders and roll your hips roll a bit, taking him in another inch, “you feel so good,”

He lets out a heady breath, and moves in just a bit more, “Yeah?”

“Never felt anything this good,” You moan as he pushes in further, your walls fluttering and clamping around his hot length.

He rolls his hips this time, just a little experiment to drag himself in and out without fucking into you fully, and he moans when your muscles lock pleasantly around him, “God, you really were made for me,”

“Yours,” You say it like a vow, and in a strange way somewhere in the back of your mind you know it is. A dizzy promise in an almost marriage bed as your bodies sink together.

His breath hitches, cock shifting inside you, his head dropping so that you’re forehead to forehead, “And yours,” he agrees softly.

Your body feels hot suddenly, hotter than before, everything a hazy glow in the dim lighting of your bedroom. You feel all at once like you’re in the moments before a wave, the sudden suck back of the water with all the sand slipping away from underneath your feet, leaving you unsteady and sinking into the earth. Your ears catch with a dull ring.

Your breath is comes quickly now, warmth flushing your chest and cheeks, and your nails tighten on his skin, “Yunho,”

He adjusts to meet your gaze, and you realize he’s feeling exactly what you are, the thrumming sensation of it all but swirling around you in the air. He blinks hard, “I’m.. I need,”

You understand him without words, you know exactly what he needs because you need it too. Through the fog of sensation, you pull lightly on his shoulders and hitch your calves on his hips, drawing him in deeper, “Please,”

His hips drop, seating himself just a little more and you moan at the stretching sensation. He’s holding himself back, clinging to the one clear thought that he promised he’d take care of you, but his resolve is crumbing apart before your eyes.

“Yunho,” You cup his cheek, begging him with your expression to let go, “I need you,”

He swallows hard, his chest flushed red, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

The words flood out of you, a whispered confession just for him, “I love you, please,”

He exhales in a rush, a wide smile breaking across his face, his eyes shining, and without any more hesitation he thrusts forwards and sinks his full length inside you.

You moan sharply, wrapping your arms around him as he drops his body down on yours, sweat slick skin pressed flush together. The hot dizziness grows, and he finds your lips, moaning against your mouth as he kisses you hard. Your bodies start to move in sync, a tandem push and pull as he rolls into the cradle of your hips, your breath tangled together as you rock in the sheets.

Yunho leans his forehead against yours, pumping his hips slow and firm, “I love you,”

The sensation grows, filling the air around you and a chill rushes up your spine, the hair on your arms standing up at attention, the magnetic pull between your bodies so forceful you don’t think a single thing in the world could drag you away from him. Emotion rocks through the link, and then all at once you feel it snap into place.

Your tattoo burns, the brand igniting just like when you touched his cheek for the first time, and you suck in a sharp breath. Yunho’s hips stutter in pace, sinking himself deep until your bodies are nestled together with every inch of him buried inside you.

He’s breathing heavy, arms wrapped tight around you, hands trembling, “I can feel you,” he leans up an inch, smoothing your hair back from your face, “you’re,”

His words die on his lips but he touches his chest and you nod, you feel him too. One single heartbeat, one breath. The link before was nothing, a mere echo of this, a blurry photograph now sharply in focus, and you reach up to brush your fingers along his cheek, his lips, a ghost of the sensation along your own face.

“How is this real?” Tears prick at your eyes. You’ve seen the movies, read the books, you’ve talked to people who have found their soulmates before, but nothing could have prepared you for this. You feel him inside you as if he were a part of you, his skin your skin, his emotions, even the shape of his thoughts.

You understand all at once why people say it’s possible to die of a broken heart. If you ever lost him, lost this…

“I’m here,” He interrupts your internal spiral, dipping to press a kiss to your lips, “I’m not going anywhere,”

“How did you,” You shake your head in strange awe of the feeling, “what is this?”

“I don’t know,” He kisses you again, “I just knew, I felt it,”

Tears spill over, snaking back into your hairline, and you press your palm to his chest, sliding down over his tattoo. Words fail you, all you can feel is the overwhelming breadth of your souls together. How could anyone live without this, how could anyone believe this isn’t real?

“Don’t cry,” He soothes, wiping the tears from your temples with his thumb.

“I’m happy,” You manage, finding his eyes again, “Yunho, I’m so happy,”

He grins, his breath catching in his throat as he lets his forehead rest on yours again and he nods, “Me too,”

His love thrums through you, tangible and solid, a truth you didn’t know you could have. You’re grinning too now, an elated laugh on your lips as you wrap your arms around him, “Fuck,” you thread your fingers in his hair, nuzzling into him, “you love me,”

“So much,” He confesses quietly, “I didn’t know I could love someone like this,”

“Me too,” You press your lips to his, sighing into him, “I love you too,”

The kisses feel like his love actualized, nothing more true than his mouth, his need, and yours reflected back in the mirror of his desire. You moan as another wave of heat floods through you, and Yunho shudders.

For a moment, there’s nothing more to say, tangled together in your bed in the middle of Seoul, time seemingly standing still just for you. Tightly locked together, you both start to move again. Each slow pump of his hips down is met with an upward roll of yours, his cock slowly stroking in and out of your pulsing center, your arms wrapped around each other as you pant and moan.

You crumble apart together, still deep beneath the dizzy waves, his mouth hot against your ear as he releases inside you, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him, drawing him in, holding him inside.

**this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the second half of this part, here!

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