#what's the word for the opposite of nostalgia? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeyhotteoks · 1 month ago

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across stardust - one (j.yh)

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

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

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

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 17.9k

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

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

“Fuck,” You breathe, “hey,”

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

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

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

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I guess.”

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

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

“Thank you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” He checks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?” He tilts his face up to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm,” He hums and stays relaxed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” He laughs, “of course, yeah,”

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

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

The tattoo on your chest feels warm beneath your blouse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s yours.

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

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

“You didn’t?” His hand falls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head, “No,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A soulmate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His shoulders relax just a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” You assure him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m good,” You nod, “don’t worry,”

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

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

“Am I good?” Yunho checks.

Your eyes flick over him fast, “Yep,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really is yours.

It turns out that later means much later.

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

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

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

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

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

A soft knock at the door makes your stomach lurch.

You’re frozen.

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

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

“I waited,” You manage.

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

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

He nods, “Come to my room?”

“Are you sure?” Your eyes widen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When the heavy door shuts behind you, you sigh.

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

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

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

“It feels pretty real,”

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

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

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

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

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

“You what?” Your eyebrows raise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Completely,” He nods, “did yours?”

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

“Does it feel,” He starts.

“Warm?”

“Yes,” He nods, “and tender?”

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

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

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

“You want to see it?” He surmises.

“Only if you’re comfortable,”

His lips quirk, “I’m comfortable,”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

He shakes his head, “Not before today,”

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

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

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

“You feel that?” He asks, “Right?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it always feel like that?”

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

He smiles, “Your sister found her soulmate?”

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

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

“Younger,” You say.

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

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

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

Your heart quickens and you nod.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Your voice is thready.

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

“Yes,” You agree, painfully quickly.

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

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

You wonder what more will feel like.

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

You nod.

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

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

“You can feel that?”

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

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

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

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

“Feel alright?” He murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels so right, so essential under your touch.

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

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

“Yunho,” You shiver.

“Cold?” He gravitates a little closer.

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

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

His lips are on yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We need to slow down,” He manages.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Overwhelming,” You nod, exhaling softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You straighten up again, finding his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your tight hands uncurl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s yours.

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

“This is real,” You murmur.

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

“You’re mine,”

“Yes,” He grins.

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

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

“Together,” You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is nice,” You smile.

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

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

“It is,”

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

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

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

“I had no idea,”

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” You perk up, “Who?”

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

You sigh, letting his softness calm you again.

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

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

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

That wakes you up.

Your eyebrows raise, “Stay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With me?” His eyebrows raise.

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

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

“It is what it is,”

“Are your parents soulmates?” He asks softly.

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

You watch his eyes widen in surprise.

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

“For status?” He surmises.

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

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

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

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

“It could,”

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

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

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

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

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

Your smile at his warm expression.

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

Your throat constricts, tears threatening for a moment.

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

“Very,”

“I’d like to meet her,” He smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“She’s funny,” He smirks.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Your eyes feel heavy.

“Yeah,” He kisses your forehead.

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

“Mhm,” He yawns too, “me too, jagi,”

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

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

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

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

Nuzzled against his tattoo, you drift.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Naive is what it is,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long?” Seonghwa manages.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Yunho laughs.

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

“It wasn’t that bad,” Yunho grimaces.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth feels dry.

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

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

You both wait.

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

Yunho nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” Yunho curses.

You both slept straight through Yunho’s alarm.

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

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

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

Did you already get up and get ready?

Your work bag is still here…

Not funny, girl, where are you?

Did you make it back last night?

Can you answer me??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seonghwa huffs a laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With some guy?” She stands.

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” You say again.

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

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

“Iseul,” Your cheeks heat.

She points at you, “I’m right!”

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

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

“I can’t,” You press, “leave it,”

“Why are you being so weird?”

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

“I’m not letting this go,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,”

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

“Fine,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You miss him.

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

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

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

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

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

So you’re as awake as I am?

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

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

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

Nope - You tease back.

Was she upset? - He asks.

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

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

How was Seonghwa? - You tap out.

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

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

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

That’s good - You send back.

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

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

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

Why’s that? - You tease him.

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

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

So who did she guess?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Exactly - You reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your thighs press together - Yunho?

Yes, jagi?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you have headphones?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want me? - You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

I was tossing and turning.

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

You send him another emoji, the blushing face.

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

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

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

Wearing?

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

I asked you first.

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

A heavy sigh passes through your lips.

“And you?”

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

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

Me too

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

Me either - You confess.

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

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

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

You message him one last thought - What about you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm,” You murmur in a whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s good, that’s so good,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasp softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh,” You manage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” He murmurs, “you okay?”

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

He hums, a quiet, lazy laugh, “Ah,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,”

“Are your headphones still in?” He asks

“No, but I can switch back,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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focusonkayjay · 28 days ago

Text

between the ride and the roses (1)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Word count: 2.8k

Chapter Warnings: jungkook is kind of an annoying jerk in the beginning, but we still love him. as of now, i have no warnings, but i will mention them when necessary as the series goes on.

A/N: hello, welcome to my very first series. i've been reading fics for as long as i can remember and i've always wanted to start a blog of my own. please read through this and let me know if this story is worth continuing <3

my blog is still "work in progress" and i have many ideas and plans that i wanna give life to, so please stay tuned. your opinions, constructive criticism and suggestions are always welcome.

thank you.

part 1: throttle and stem

The quiet hum of the early morning filled your flower shop as you stood by your workbench, your hands deftly arranging a vibrant bouquet of stargazer lilies, queen of the night blossoms, and delicate sprigs of baby’s breath. As you tied off the bouquet with a soft ribbon, you pulled your phone from the pocket of your apron, glancing at the screen.

"8:09 am."

You sighed to yourself, shaking off the early morning grogginess that still clung to your mind. The air around you was sweet with the mingling fragrances of the flowers, an invisible balm for the weariness you hadn’t quite shaken.

The shop was your sanctuary. Its walls were adorned with climbing vines that had been lovingly nurtured over the years, and its shelves were lined with terracotta pots of miniature bonsais, fiddle-leaf figs, and succulent terrariums. It wasn’t just a workspace… it was your rhythm, your peace. Here, surrounded by blooms and greenery, the world felt like it moved just a little slower.

You turned towards the bay window, where golden sunlight poured in, illuminating an assortment of hydrangeas and snapdragons on display. It was the kind of morning you cherished… peaceful, predictable, and entirely yours to savor.

Shifting closer to the window, your gaze naturally drifted to the storefront beside yours. The faded "For Rent" sign, hanging crookedly in the glass, caught your eye like always. Ever since Mrs. Lee shut down her cozy little bakery and moved away with her husband, the space had remained lifeless, the once-welcoming aroma of fresh pastries replaced by silence and dust.

You couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as you remembered the way the scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon rolls used to drift into your shop every morning. Now, the vacant building had become an eyesore you had grown used to ignoring… a dull, empty reminder of what had once been.

Turning away from the window, you wandered through your shop, watering the orchids in their clay pots and adjusting the arrangement of lavender sprigs by the counter. You opened sharp at 9, but these quiet moments before customers arrived were your favorite. It was a time to bask in the stillness, to let the beauty of your flowers fill every corner of your mind.

You settled back at your workbench, pulling another bundle of roses and eucalyptus stems from the cooler. Your hands moved automatically as your thoughts wandered, appreciating the rare silence that surrounded you. Most of the shops on your street wouldn’t open for another hour, leaving the block in a peaceful lull.

The quiet wasn’t just comforting, it was necessary. It was the space where you could breathe, think, and just be.

And just when you were basking in the silence you oh so appreciated, your train of thoughts are harshly interrupted by a sharp growl that tore through the air, so ridiculously loud that it startled you into dropping the shears you were grasping in your hand. The noise grew louder, rising and falling with an almost deafening rhythm. Engines revved outside, followed by the sharp, repetitive beeping of trucks reversing.

Frowning, you stepped towards the window, peeking out from behind a display of yellow roses. Two enormous moving trucks had pulled up in front of the vacant building, their engines rumbling as a group of workers began hauling furniture and equipment onto the sidewalk.

Your chest tightened as you took in the scene: huge wooden crates, motorcycle frames, and oversized toolboxes haphazardly scattered across the pavement.

The stillness you were treasuring just a minute ago was shattered in less than a second by the disgusting sound of chaos arriving at your doorstep.

Still confused, your eyes suddenly fall on the huge stack of oversized toolboxes placed on the sidewalk, partially blocking the entrance to your shop. You scoffed, your mind unable to wrap itself around this bizarre situation.

Before you could fully process what exactly was happening, your feet carried you towards the front door of your shop and you stepped outside, breathing heavily. “Hey!” you called out, trying to dodge around a burly man carrying a huge box labeled FRAGILE. “What’s going on here?” you question, still looking around, trying to take in the state of your surroundings.

The closest person to you wasn’t a mover or a worker. You could easily conclude that just by the way he was leaning lazily against one of the trucks, scrolling through his phone as if oblivious to the commotion. A thick leather jacket, adorned with intricate patches and scratches that told untold stories rested on his left shoulder.

Tattoos crawled up his toned forearms, disappearing under the ripped sleeves of his black t-shirt. A loose silver chain around his neck glinted as he shifted his weight, and when he glanced up, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mix of curiosity and disinterest.

"What's going on here?" you ask again, this time trying to sound as civil as possible. Your fists are balled and you regulate your breathing as you observe the man in front of you. “Moving in.” he simply answers, his voice smooth but laced with indifference. “What’s it look like to you?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown by his audacity. You're generally a calm person, that is, until someone provokes you in the weirdest ways. “It looks like you’re turning the sidewalk into an obstacle course.” you snapped, unable to remain civil like you had previously planned. “My customers won’t be able to get into my shop!” you added.

His lips curved into a faint smirk, the kind that instantly made you think, this was someone you would never get along with. “What customers?” He chuckles, glancing theatrically up and down the empty street before meeting your gaze again.

Your blood boiled as you heard him mock you. “Excuse me?” He stepped closer, the faint scent of leather and motor oil lingering in the air between you. “Relax, sweetheart. We’ll keep it tidy. Don’t get your roses in a twist.” he says, eyeing a bouquet he was able to spot through the window of your store.

You bristled. “First of all, don’t call me sweetheart. Second, those are lilies, NOT roses.” You jabbed a finger towards the bouquet in the window. “And third, I don’t need your promises. I need you to move your chaos somewhere else and not disturb my business!”

He tilted his head, clearly amused. “You really care about those flowers, huh?” he asks. You can easily tell he thinks nothing of your business. “Of course, I do! Unlike some people, I actually respect my work and the space around me.” you argue.

The man rolls his eyes, and that only drives you more mad. His nonchalance and his lack of empathy itches your brain the wrong way. “Whatever.” he casually shrugs, turning away as he hears one of the men call out to him. “Jeon, where do you want the bike stand?”

Jeon? You realize that's probably his surname. “Right here.” he replies, pointing towards the storefront. Without sparing you another glance, he strode over, his gait relaxed and confident, as if he hadn’t just ruined your morning.

You stood there, fists clenched, watching as the chaos unfolded further. The reality hit you hard—the quiet, vacant space beside your shop was no longer empty. It was now home to this infuriating, leather-clad biker who had just walked into your life like a hurricane. And somehow, you knew, your peaceful little flower shop would never be the same.

The rest of the morning passes in a haze of irritation. Every time you tried to return to your flowers and reclaim the peace you once cherished, another burst of loud noise would jolt you out of focus. The metallic clang of tools, the rumble of engines being tested, and the shouts of movers unloading endless boxes were relentless. Even the cheerful chime of your shop door opening, signaling the arrival of your first customer, couldn’t lift your mood entirely.

“Busy morning out there, huh?” Mrs. Park, one of your long-time regulars, quipped as she admired a bouquet of tulips on display. You forced a smile, standing up from your workbench. “You could say that.” you answered, looking back at the window that gave you a view of the happenings next door

She chuckled, picking up a small pot of baby succulents. “Looks like someone’s finally opening a business there. Hopefully, it’s something good and the owner is nice. I miss Mrs. Lee’s bakery, though. Her strawberry tarts were divine.” she says, walking towards the counter with the pot she had just picked out.

You bit back a sarcastic retort about how this newcomer was something way from from “nice” and nodded instead. “I miss her too. But yeah, we'll just have to wait and see what the new business is going to be about.” you sigh.

By the time the clock struck noon, the chaos outside had died down enough for you to risk stepping out again. Boxes had been cleared from the sidewalk, though a few crates still lingered near the entrance of your shop, their presence a glaring reminder of the morning’s disruption.

You spotted him immediately—Jeon. He was crouched next to a sleek black motorcycle, his hands busy adjusting something near the engine. A few workers milled around, chatting, but this man seemed entirely absorbed in his work.

You purse your lips and stepped back on the sidewalk to get a better view of the building. The sign "Throttle and Torque" hung up high, right beside yours that read "Garden's Grace."

You look back down at the man, who still seemed so immersed in whatever the heck he was doing. Against your better judgment, you marched over, fueled by lingering frustration. “Excuse me.” you say, waiting for him to respond. He didn’t look up. You stepped closer, crossing your arms as you tapped your foot impatiently. “Excuse me!” you snap.

This time, he glanced up, wiping his hands on a rag before standing to his full height. Up close, he was even more infuriatingly confident, his dark eyes glinting which barely concealed any sort amusement. “What?” he asked, completely unbothered. You gestured towards the lingering crates. “Your stuff is still blocking part of my entrance.” you reply, trying your level best to keep your voice at a respectable volume.

He glanced at the crates, then back at you. “Looks fine to me.” he shrugs. “It’s not fine. It’s in the way.” you argue, fighting the urge to just run and kick the crates away from your entrance. His lips curved into that maddening smirk again. “You’re really particular about your space, huh?”

“Unlike some people…” you pause, taking a deep breath “I respect boundaries.” you state. He chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly casual. “Alright, alright. I’ll move them. Don’t blow a gasket, sweetheart.” he says causing you to roll your eyes at the nickname but you bite your tongue, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your temper again.

As he turned to call out to one of the workers, you noticed something—a small, intricately designed patch sewn onto the back of his leather jacket that he was wearing. It depicted a phoenix rising from flames, the design bold and vibrant against the black leather.

Shaking yourself out of the observation you had just made, you look around and finally question him. "What exactly is your business?"

He doesn't answer, still busy with the worker as he guides him on where to place the crates. But as you stood there by yourself, you feel the realization dawning on you as you took in the scattered parts and tools. "Is this a motorcycle shop?" you ask again. He glanced over his shoulder, finally nodding. “Custom bikes. Repairs. The works.” he answers, his tone still the same, low and unbothered.

Of course. The universe had gifted you a neighbor who was the exact opposite of everything your flower shop represented—loud, chaotic, and disruptive. “Just great.” you muttered under your breath, feeling yourself get a headache as you imagine the wild things that you will have to go through with a store like this right beside yours.

“Something to say?” he teases, as he looks at you, finally taking in your appearance. His eyes roamed over you for a moment, his gaze lingering on the effortless beauty you carried. There was something captivating about the way your long, dark hair framed your face, the sunlight catching in the waves and adding a soft halo around you. The earthy tones of your apron only highlighted the warm glow of your skin, and the faint blush on your cheeks gave you an endearing, almost ethereal charm.

You don't say anything and just stand there, trying your best to stay calm. "I'm Jungkook, by the way." you hear him say. You bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to introduce yourself to him, but you think that might be a little immature. "Y/n." you simply say, avoiding his eyes.

"Didn’t realize such a pretty flower came with so many thorns." he comments, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he crosses his arms, observing the way you tried so hard not to throw hands. You rolled your eyes, brushing off his comment. “Didn’t realize bikers had this much trouble respecting other people’s businesses.” you retorted, matching his tone.

Jungkook chuckled, clearly unfazed. He leaned against the wall beside him, his dark eyes gleaming with something between amusement and challenge. “Well, sweetheart, I guess we’re stuck with each other now. Might as well get used to it.” he says, almost like he's challenging you.

You huffed at that stupid nickname again, your fingers tightening around the hem of your apron. “I would REALLY appreciate if you wouldn't call me sweetheart." you pause, slightly stepping forward. "And for the record, being neighbors doesn’t mean I have to put up with your... chaos. My shop values tranquility, something your—” you pause again to gesture towards the motorcycles and tools scattered around, “whole vibe seems to be allergic to.”

Jungkook tilts his head, pretending to consider your words, though the teasing smirk never leaves his features. “Tranquility, huh?” he echoes, his tone mocking. “I can see why you’d like things quiet in there.” His eyes flicked toward your shop window, where the vibrant display of flowers created a stark contrast to the metal and oil-laden aesthetic of his business.

You cross your arms, as you firmly stand your ground. “Exactly. Garden’s Grace is a place where people come to find peace and beauty. Something your Throttle and Torque doesn’t exactly scream.”

He snorted, looking genuinely amused for the first time. “Peace and beauty. Cute. I’m more about the adrenaline and grit side of life. Opposites, huh?” You frowned, refusing to let him get under your skin. “Maybe opposites, but that doesn’t mean you have to make my life miserable.” you said, glancing pointedly at the workers still unloading equipment nearby.

“Alright, alright.” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll make sure my guys clear out your entrance. We wouldn’t want to scare off all those peace-seekers now, would we?” he says, in a tone that irks something ugly inside of you.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to come up with something but you know it would be of no use to argue with someone like him. “Thank you.” you breathe out curtly, turning on your heel to head back to your shop, not wanting to deal with him anymore because you clearly had a business to get back to.

“By the way…” he suddenly calls out, stopping you in your tracks. You turn over your shoulder with a brow raised. “Those flowers in your display…” he said, jerking his chin towards the window. “Whatever they're called... they’re pretty. You’ve got an eye for detail and beauty.” he admits.

The unexpected compliment threw you off guard, and for a moment, you couldn’t find a snappy comeback. Instead, you muttered a soft, “Thanks.” before disappearing into the safety of your shop.

Inside, your heart thudded a little harder than you cared to admit. You shook your head, pushing the moment aside. “Nope, not falling for that.” you mumble to yourself, bringing your focus back on the vibrant bouquet in your hands.

From the corner of your eye, you glanced out the window one last time. Jungkook had gone back to his motorcycle, but there was a faint smile on his face now, one that didn’t carry the same teasing edge as before.

You sighed and shook your head, determined to forget the way it made your stomach flutter. "It’s just day one..." you reminded yourself. "I can survive this." you affirm.

Little did you know, this was only the beginning of a storm neither of you saw coming.

part 2 ->

series masterlist

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction

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notlongtolove · 24 days ago

Text

the garden is growing

"you live together, work together. doesn’t it all get a little boring?" there’s a weight to her observation, something invasive, like she’s pulling out weeds that you never asked her to tend, tilling through soil that’s been left unbothered for too long. the cups of tea, the folding of blankets. you could never call that boring.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff! maybe angst if you really really squint

content: after catching up with an old friend, bau!reader and bf!spencer have a contemplative talk about their relationship as they walk home. domestic... mentions of marriage... lurve in the air...

word count: 2.2k

note: a post finals treat to myself! leaned heavy into the garden imagery for this one lol, this was heavily inspired by the poem linked, i highly recommend it! o i also added some song recs below for this one :P (ps i did not mean to compare spencer's eyes to PEBBLES but it was either that or a random brown flower... sorry.)

a line: The perennial pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete—small, steady, and undeniably alive. It’s there. It’s growing.

If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say Except that the garden is growing. - wendy cope

When you were younger, you had a garden. A field just a stone's throw from your front door. Not the kind in a backyard, fenced in and manageable. No, it was wild and uncontained, the grass alive beneath your feet. They used to say love was like a garden. You'd think about that sometimes—how you were supposed to tend to it, rake and comb and pull out the weeds before they strangled your beautiful flowers. And when it rained, you just had to let it. Let the downpour come and see what survived.

You’re standing under the awning, shaking droplets off your jacket. You mumble a thanks to the doorman as he holds the door open, offering a silent nod in return. The door opens to a polished, marble lobby, and suddenly you’re acutely aware of how out of place you look. You’d come straight from the office, having dwindled your stack of case files from a grand total of 26 to a modest 19. The grand mirror to your left does nothing to help. If anything, it’s magnifying the creased fabric of your trousers and the damp strands of hair stuck to your cheek. You shift uncomfortably, tugging at your sleeves and smoothing your hair out in a futile attempt at order. It was urgent she’d said. A matter of utmost importance. You’re not sure why you’re here, but you know with certainty that you’d rather not be.

She sees you before you see her. She calls out for you, the nickname wrapping around you like a sweater one size too small—warm but suffocating. It might as well be. You haven’t seen her in nearly a year—maybe a year and a half? You shrug, suddenly missing Spencer’s precision, his ability to pin things down to the day, the hour.

"Hi," you manage, sliding into the seat opposite her. “I’m really sorry. Work was crazy—" you start, but your words dissolve the moment she thrusts her hand forward. A diamond—no, a boulder—catches the light, dazzling and deliberate. You nearly choke on the glass of water you’ve just picked up.

"Let me tell you about crazy," she says, her grin sharpening.

Oh, the yacht! And don’t even get me started on the violins, can you believe it! The sea was just gorgeous—Did I mention it was on a yacht? Her words tumble out as you try to follow along, but you can’t quite keep up, only noting it definitely involved an abhorrent amount of Dom Perignon.

“I wish you could’ve been there to see it,” she says, her voice tinged with what you hope is nostalgia and not pity.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you murmur, and you mean it—sort of. You used to be close, but since starting at the BAU, everything else kind of took a backseat. It had to. “I wish I could’ve too. Work’s been—”

"Crazy, right," she cuts in, waving it off. "Big fancy BAU," She winks. "That job’s gonna be the death of you one day y’know, all those hours." You force a laugh, but her words hit a little too literally, heavier than she knows. You don’t think she quite grasps the reality of your work.

“So,” she says, leaning in now, her chin propped delicately on her hand, her diamond ring catching the light. You can’t help but think it’s mocking you. “How’s things going with Spencer?”

"Oh, they’re going fine."

"Fine?" She raises her brows. "Trouble in paradise?"

“No, not at all,” you insist, your voice instinctively rising in defence. “We’re—fine. You know, same old, same old. We just wrapped a big case actually. This guy—” You cut yourself off, realizing mid-sentence that the story of a guy meticulously collecting hair from women post-mortem doesn’t feel like the kind of story to share during dinner under a sparkling chandelier—Not that you’re doing much eating anyway. The menu was a labyrinth of fancy salads, obscure cheeses, and entrées described in French that you’re only half sure translate to lamb. You’d settled for pushing a few greens around your plate, making a mental note to stop by the bodega later.

Her laugh pulls you back to the table, "I don’t know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"You know… Live together, work together, day in, day out. Doesn’t it all get a little..." She trails off, letting her expression finish the sentence.

"A little… what?"

"Boring?"

You blink. "Boring?"

The word tastes bitter. You don’t like it. The way the dog always chases the cat? Boring. The way the cat always seeks shelter in the same tree? Boring. But the way they both come running home every time you call? That’s never boring. Spencer in the quiet mornings—hair tousled, voice soft and sleepy as he murmurs a 'good morning.' The cups of tea, the folding of blankets. You could never call that boring.

She laughs lightly, the sound cutting through the restaurant’s hum. "Not in a bad way! I just mean... do you guys even go out? Like, for fun? You guys have been together for, what like, years now?” Three years and 4 months, you think to yourself. You’d never need Spencer’s eidetic memory to remember that.

"Well, yeah, sure we do…" you say finally. "Um, we went to a museum recently." You don’t tell her it was to interview a suspect. Her smile tightens, like she’s not sure whether to believe you or feel sorry for you. You take a careful sip of water, resisting the urge to shift under her gaze. There’s a weight to her observation, something invasive, like she’s pulling out weeds that you never asked her to tend, tilling through soil that’s been left unbothered for too long. Outside, the rain keeps falling.

By the time you part with polite hugs and hollow smiles, the downpour has softened to a drizzle. Spencer is waiting by the curb, hair slightly damp. His eyes light up at the sight of you. Under the glow of the streetlight, they remind you of the pebbles you used to collect by the garden path. You’d carry them home, pocketful by pocketful, washing and scrubbing at them until they shone. Only your favourites made it to your shelf. Tiny, perfect trophies.

“Hi, honey.”

"Hiya." You lean into his chest, a tired smile tugging at your lips as you manage a strained, “I’m starving.”

“Hi starving. Care for a burrito?” he asks, tilting a takeout bag toward you with a small smile.

Your eyes meet his, and there’s something in his smile—soft, understanding, familiar—that makes your chest ache. “How’d you know?” you ask, practically tearing into the bag.

“Searched the menu after you left,” he says simply, falling into step beside you as you start walking. “Figured you wouldn't have liked much in there," he shrugs, casual. You feel your cheeks warm. Two hours away from Spencer Reid is two hours too long.

The walk home is quiet at first, the two of you picking your way around puddles reflecting neon signs. The burrito’s long gone, leaving your hand free for Spencer to hold, fingers interlocked.

“She’s engaged,” you say eventually.

Spencer furrows his brows. “Already?”

“It’s only been like, what, eight? nine months?”

Spencer frowns, pauses then says, “256 days”, the precision drawing a faint smile from you.

“Crazy isn’t it?”

“I guess. Some people are like that,” he says, “Did you know statistically, couples who get engaged within the first year of dating are 20% more likely to divorce within the first five years?”

“With that prenup incoming she’d better hope they’re the exception then…” you murmur, not really listening.

There’s something in your chest, persistent and heavy. You can feel its roots stirring, working its way beneath the surface, threatening to loosen the earth that keeps you grounded.

A few more steps in silence. Then, quietly, “Do you think we’re boring?”

“Boring?” Spencer tilts his head slightly. “Do you think we’re boring?”

You hesitate, suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t think we’re boring, but you know, we don’t do much.”

“We’re in the FBI, honey. I’d argue we do a lot.” He smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching playfully. You try to laugh, but it comes out forced, brittle—like a flower trying to push out a bloom that's not quite ready yet.

Spencer notices, as he always does. “Is there something you want to do?” It stirs in you again, something tender and uncertain. You don’t know if it will be a flower that blooms or a weed that chokes out everything else.

“No,” You say a little too quickly, “Nothing really, just... Other than work and home—”

“What’d she say?”

“Hm?”

“You love work, you live for it—I practically have to drag you out of the office most days,” he reasons, tone calm and steady. “And, if this is something that was bothering you… I’d have known. So it must’ve been something she said.” You stop walking, the words catching in your throat. It bothers you—how her vines have crept into your garden, straight through to the soil beneath. Flowers rarely thrive in foreign soil, you think.

“Not really,” you lie, biting your lip—a tell Spencer surely catches. “We just talked about the engagement. Well, she talked.”

He doesn’t press, though you can tell he doesn’t believe you. His gaze lingers, but he chooses to give you space. “How was it? The engagement.”

“Something about a yacht,” you reply with a shrug.

“I thought she was afraid of water.”

“Not when it’s on a million-dollar vessel, apparently.”

Spencer chuckles. You continue to walk. Your feet do their best to trace the familiar trail, trying to find the garden path that takes you home. Left. Right. Left. Right. But your thoughts snag, tripping on an unseen vine, and you stumble.

“Do you ever think about it?” you ask.

“About what?”

“Like... if we ever get married and stuff.”

Now it’s Spencer’s turn to stop mid-step, rooted to the spot, his body going still. You freeze too, breath trapped in your chest, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you rush to say, the guilt sharp and immediate. “That was silly, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

You tug softly on his hand trying to pull him forward, but he doesn’t budge. His brows knit together as his gaze locks with yours.

“When.”

“When what?”

“You said if. I’m saying when. When we get married.”

“When we get married?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the moment.

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When. Not if. I don’t think really of it as a hypothetical possibility.”

Your chest tightens and you don’t know exactly what to say, but your fingers instinctively tighten around his. Spencer senses your silence and rushes to fill the space.

“Do you… not think that?” he asks, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“I do! Of course, I do.” Your voice falters. “I just… I didn’t know you thought about it that way too.”

Spencer hums, soft smile on his face. “I know I tend to look at things in terms of statistics, probabilities—But us? There’s no ‘ifs’. Not with you, honey. Never with you.”

And just like that, the earth beneath you shifts, breaking apart to reveal a bud. Not a flower but a fruit-bearing tree. You try and fight the urge to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him, but he’s already leaning in, his lips warm and familiar against yours. As you pull back, eyes locked, you think back to the pebbles you used to collect. Your tiny, perfect trophies—Spencer’s eyes are far better, you think.

“You smell like burrito,” he teases. You laugh, the sound light and easy. “You love burritos.”

He brushes a stray curl from your forehead. “I love you.”

Through the clearing, you see it. The vines have receded, the rain has come and gone. Your feet step off the garden path with certainty. It’s safe now. It’s here.

“So,” you say with renewed excitement, your steps light as you glance at him, “Beach wedding?”

Spencer wrinkles his nose. “Do you have any idea how much fecal bacteria there is in beach sand?”

“Blegh.”

“No, seriously. Beach sand has 10 to 100 times more fecal bacteria than seawater.”

“How about we don’t throw around the word ‘fecal’ when my burrito is still working its way through me,” you reply, grimacing. “What’s your genius idea then?”

He grins. “Barn wedding?”

“Spence, I love you, and I know you’ve always wanted to be a cowboy, but I’m not walking down the aisle with hay in my hair.”

He laughs, shaking his head as you walk side by side, hands swaying between you. Spencer spots a perennial growing out of concrete cracks by the lamppost 2 steps ahead of you.

“What about a garden wedding? In spring?”

“A garden wedding,” you say, a soft smile spreading across your face, “Yeah, I’d really like that, spring’s nice.”

"Okay,” he says, hand warm in yours, “in spring then."

There’s no towering oak tree, ancient and steadfast, to mark this moment, no circle of wildflowers dancing wildly around with their colours. But still the perennial pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete—small, steady, and undeniably alive. It’s there. It’s growing.

They used to say love was like a garden. When his drought comes, silent but devastating nonetheless, you quench it with your rain—soft, temperamental. And when your rain changes her tide, thrashing and wild, he shelters you beneath his leaves, vast and unyielding. Together you prune the dead parts, plant anew, and marvel at what thrives.

The next time someone asks you how things are going, there’s no pursed smile or hesitant pause, distant in thought. You just smile and say it's going. It's going alright. It's going great. It’s going fine.

Because all that matters is that it's going.

Your garden is growing.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: nothing by bruno major love letter from the sea to the shore by delaney bailey

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x bau!reader

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coralinnii · 1 month ago

Text

"Eyes are Windows to the Soul"

↳ Admiring your Dark Brown eyes

feat: Idia ❋ Sebek ❋ Kalim ❋ Trey genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used for reader, set before Book 7 (mostly because I haven’t finished it yet),

Idia grew up sheltered in a sterile world, filled with LED lights and sleek metal walls. Shades of brown were not common in his daily routine, so he didn’t have a lot of opinions on it.

In a world of neon blue and cold silver, your brown eyes ironically stood out in Idia’s world.

Your eyes remind him of fluffy brown kittens, filled with warmth and mischief. You remind him of those adorable teddy bear prizes in claw machines that everyone covets. You were everything he dreams of holding, but often out of reach.

That is until the two of you grew closer, then he sees your eyes in the ice-cold colas he’s chugging during long grinding sessions with you. He feels a tingling sensation when he sees your eyes in the dry autumn leaves crunching beneath his feet whenever you drag him out to “touch some grass”

Your brown eyes remind him of everything fluffy and warm, of fuzzy feelings and snugness.

Your eyes give off energy, but it’s not scary or overwhelming at all. Rather, it’s soft and enjoyable like a refreshing drink on a hot day.

You seem so out of place in his old world, but Idia couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore.

”Uggh, that cat is just too cute, what a sensory overload! Huh, when did brown cats become my fav? I-I guess kinda recently?”

Sebek holds himself with prestige and integrity, a well-kept man with honor to uphold.

But his experience is filled with the great wilderness, with the natural and unbending beauty of the forest. He proudly recalls his childhood living close to the world of fae and nature.

You were a human. Your upbringing was nothing like his own, a pair of opposites with nothing in common

But, when you look at him with your sweet brown eyes, Sebek sometimes feels lost in nostalgia. In your eyes, he sees the beautiful trees of his homeland, he sees his beloved worn-out books in his bookshelves passed down by his grandfather.

Not only his childhood memories, Sebek feels the same feeling of familiarity in his current lifestyle. He’s reminded of the joy and excitement he feels when he trusts his whole self to the majestic brown horses in the campus wooden stables.

Is it because just like his trusted steed, your warm brown eyes effortlessly shine with so much strength?

Lost in your eyes, he recalls feelings of comfort and home, a connection to what makes Sebek…himself. Though he may not admit it, the stubborn young man finds solace just by staring into your eyes.

"Do I ever feel homesick? Of course I do! I simply… haven’t been feeling all that distant from my homeland as of late”

Kalim is not only surrounded by shades of brown, but also reds, yellows, greens, and everything else in the large spectrum of color. His world is bright and vibrant, never a dull moment for the boisterous heir.

You fit right into his life, adding more happiness to his routine. Your existence gave off a sense of wholesome, sweet fun. You join him in his highs yet keep him grounded when he flies too close to the Sun

To anyone else, Kalim lacks nothing in terms of riches. He is financially blessed for generations to come, and Kalim is not ignorant enough to deny otherwise.

But lately, whenever he watches you, he ponders on what the word “rich” truly meant to him.

Some would call your brown eyes pretty but rather plain, but regardless Kalim would catch himself swimming in the hue of your irises.

In your eyes, he sees the deep color of expensive cognac that many would gift his parents, he sees the color of flawless leather prized by countless merchants, and he sees the color of fertile soil that nurtures and feeds his country.

If someone were to ask his opinion, Kalim would say that richness and pricelessness could be defined by your eyes. Kalim may have an abundance of gold and silver but there is no price that could compare to the look of pure love in your exquisite eyes.

"Have you ever seen a chocolate diamond before? They’re really pretty with a wonderful shine. I really like them, I’ll show you one someday!”

While he isn’t against dabbling in certain subjects and interests, Trey has a pretty solid idea of his future, to become a patissier and to either inherit his family's bakery or start his own business.

Trey doesn’t see himself as anyone extravagant nor does he really want to be. Sure, he may be in a prestigious school, and he may hold an enviable position as a vice-Housewarden, but the green-haired senior holds himself more modestly.

You knew well of his humble dream, and he appreciated the way you would support him however you can, be it a taste tester for new recipes or assisting him in the kitchen before a busy unbirthday party.

In this close proximity, Trey is allowed more chances to glance your way, especially your eyes.

He sees the resemblance in your eyes the color of the chestnuts you collected with the mischievous freshmen, the first day he noticed how cute you were. He’s reminded of warm brownies and cookies he would bake in secret just for you, all to see those very eyes sparkle. He imagines a brick house in the same shade as your eyes, where he’ll live out his peaceful life with you.

In your warm brown eyes, he feels reassurance and security. Trey doesn’t need a lavish lifestyle or a grand plan. All he could wish for is a life where he could bake cakes and pay taxes with you.

“I’m not exactly the most romantic with words, but I do like your eyes. They remind me of…my oven. Ah, that sounded a bit…”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #idia shroud #idia x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #twst kalim #trey clover #twst trey x reader #trey x reader

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p0orbaby · 4 days ago

Note

Hey there! Can I request a short blurb where reader and alexia are visiting England and reader introduces jacket potato to Alexia. (Cheese and beans) At first she’s like wtf is this food and why is it named after a clothing item, but she ends up loving it.

Love love love your work!!!

The café is aggressively beige. Beige walls, beige tablecloths, beige chairs with beige cushions. Even the napkins are beige, stacked neatly in a stainless steel dispenser that somehow still looks out of place. A fly buzzes lazily by the window, doing figure eights over the plastic plant that’s been positioned to disguise a crack in the sill. It smells faintly of over-boiled vegetables and nostalgia.

You slide into a booth opposite Alexia, who’s watching the laminated menu in your hand like it’s going to bite her. She hasn’t touched her own.

“What’s a… jacket potato?” she asks, her eyebrows drawing together. Her accent makes it sound like jucket potehto, and you can’t help but grin.

“It’s a baked potato,” you explain, setting the menu down. “With stuff on top”

“Stuff?”

“Cheese. Beans. Sometimes tuna, if you’re feeling brave.”

She blinks at you, utterly horrified. “Why is it called a jacket potato?”

“Because it’s baked with the skin on. Like it’s wearing a jacket”

“That’s strange”

“No, what’s strange is how you think patatas bravas are a meal,” you shoot back, flagging down the waitress before she can argue.

Alexia narrows her eyes at you but doesn’t protest further, leaning back in the booth with an air of someone deeply unimpressed by her surroundings. She looks wildly out of place in her tailored coat and pristine trainers, her hair styled in effortless waves that probably took forty-five minutes. You, by comparison, are in a hoodie and jeans, blending in with the locals like a chameleon.

The waitress arrives with a tired smile and takes your order: two jacket potatoes, one with cheese and beans, the other with cheese and tuna. Alexia doesn’t bother hiding her distaste at the mention of tuna, but she stays silent, scrolling idly through her phone while you chat with the waitress.

When the food arrives, her reaction is immediate.

“This is it?” she asks, staring down at the plate in front of her.

“Yes”

“It’s… a potato”

“Correct”

“With beans”

“And cheese. Don’t forget the cheese”

She prods at it with her fork like it might spring to life. “Why does it look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Sad”

You snort, picking up your own fork. “Just try it”

She hesitates, her fork hovering over the mound of shredded cheddar melting into the beans. The potato itself has been split open, its fluffy insides spilling out like a crime scene. She looks at you, her expression a mix of suspicion and resignation, before finally taking a bite.

The silence is deafening.

“Well?” you ask, trying to sound casual, even as you watch her every move.

She chews slowly, her face unreadable. Then, without a word, she takes another bite. And another.

“You like it,” you say, grinning.

“I didn’t say that”

“You don’t have to. You’re eating it like it’s you haven’t eaten in a week”

She glares at you but doesn’t stop, finishing her plate in record time. When she finally sets her fork down, she looks at you, her expression unreadable.

“It’s not bad,” she admits reluctantly.

You laugh, leaning back in your seat. “Welcome to England”

She shakes her head, wiping her mouth with the beige napkin. “I still think the name is stupid”

“And yet you ate the whole thing”

She doesn’t reply, instead picking up her phone again, no doubt to Google how to burn off the calories from her very first jacket potato.

Later, as you’re leaving the café, she stops by the counter to pay and glances back at you, her tone deceptively casual.

“Do you think we could make this at home?”

You smirk, wrapping your arm around her waist as you step out into the drizzly English afternoon. “I’ll teach you”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso x reader

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steviebbboi · 4 months ago

Text

Old Bonds, New Beginnings

Pairing: Biker!Ari x F!Reader

Part 1/2

Word Count: 8.4k~ (i think i have ruined myself)

Summary: You and Ari grew up together as childhood best friends to now reluctant strangers. Let adrift by leading the "Red Sea Roaders MC," and with you taking over your father's floral shop, the two of you are polar opposites. What happens when Ari takes a risk in rekindling a connection with you?

Disclaimer: This is from the results of this poll~ i'm hoping that biker!Ari is as satisfying to read as it was to write him. This is a two-parter though so peep what is to come too! We don't see too much biker interaction in part 1 but don't worry, we will 😏 also, this work is unbeta'd so any mistakes you see are totally my bad!

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; semi-mentions of assumed violence, mentions of illegal activity, mentions of underage/teenage 'first times' (with reader being in freshmen yr into sophmore yr, while ari was junior yr into senior yr of highschool), explicit language, explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), p in v, size kink, mild angst and grief from both reader and Ari, nostalgia, fluff, SQUIRTING galore, Ari is worshipping Reader (as he should), slight/mild dumbification, overstimulation, reader is thIQUE, Sharon is mentioned but not featured, highkey mutual pining and love, *smut is after the floral cut!

*if i have left anything out, please feel free to lmk!

It means so much to me for my work to get out there in reaching other folx who may also really enjoy Biker!Ari and Reader. If you could kindly reblog my work as you enjoy reading it, I would be immensely grateful. Every reblog also serves as such a motivator to help me continue writing~ thank you so very much for interacting with me and hoping to connect soon <3

Gathering twine, you wrap the delicate stems together mindfully as you feel a smile grow upon your face. The bouquet held together a mix of peonies and geraniums – two underrated flowers, in your opinion.

Involuntarily, you start humming that tune that you heard earlier that day as you continued to strategically put together delicate arrangements. So caught up in the song, you didn’t hear the store bell ring as you went into the backroom for more twine.

“Hell-ooo? Can I get some help here?” A voice complained from the front. You quickly placed the flowers down and walked through the doorway to see a man looking at his watch impatiently as he waited for you to reach the front desk. You saw his face change into something akin to surprise as you noticed his impatience shift into a semblance of a smirk as he scrutinized you.

“Ugh, here we go.” You thought to yourself as you internally rolled your eyes at the man. He was quite handsome, but not really your type. His hair sported a nice quaff to it and a thin layer of hair covering his face. He was donning a bold, red suit and a nice pair of Ferragamos oxfords. Undoubtedly, a man with money. What he was doing in a flower shop downtown– you speculated that he was definitely picking up for his wife, or girlfriend.

“Or both,” You thought with a small smirk as you greeted him.

The man proceeded to put on his charm as he grinned at you. “Hey sweetheart, I was wondering if you could help me figure out the best flowers to pick out for my girlfriend?”

“Which one?” You asked him. He blinked and responded dumbly, “W-which one?”

You blinked back at him innocently, “Yes…as in, which kind of flowers were you thinking of?”

The man paused and closed his eyes in embarrassment. “Ah, right.” As he gathered himself, you couldn’t help but purse your lips to continue covering your knowing smirk as your previous theory just got confirmed. Works every time.

You straightened up as he continued, “I was thinking maybe roses? That’s classic ‘romance’ that you can’t really go wrong with, right?”

Responding with a resounding hum and tilt to your head, “Roses are a classic. You could always put together a few different kinds, depending on the occasion. Is there something specific that you’re trying to convey?” You lead him towards the back of the store towards some pre-wrapped rose bouquets sitting waiting to be picked.

“I showed up late to a date so I figured I’d do something nice to make up for it, y’know. Make her happy, I guess.” The man said nonchalantly as he placed his hands in pockets uncaringly.

You’re turned away from him, thankfully, as your eyes really did roll this time. “You would probably make her happy if you were on time instead.” You thought sardonically. You see men like this everyday, coming into your store and having so many assumptions on how to make up for careless mistakes that never get rectified. Most men tended to think that flowers would be enough, and your heart went out to every single one of their partners and wished them better.

“Sure, hm, maybe these?” You turned with the bouquet in hand and noticed that he stood way too close to you, and from the look on his face, he knew it too.

You felt your hackles rise as you uncomfortably cleared your throat and used the bouquet as a divider between the two of you to create some space. You held it out to him and backed up a few feet, “What are your thoughts?”

Unfortunately, it’s these same men who also take one look at you and decide that you’re worthy prey enough to make you girlfriend #5.

The man simply smirked at the distance that you created and said, “Looks great. Let’s do it.”

You muttered out a relieved “great” and started to walk towards the front of the store again to ring him up, eager to get this sale over with so that he could leave. Unbeknownst to you, the man was staring at your ass as you walked away and muttered out a quiet, “damn.”

You turned to stand behind the counter and proceeded to wrap up the bouquet into a protective layer of transparent plastic when he said, “So, what’s a pretty thing like you working in a shop like this?”

Not even bothering to hide your dismayed reaction, you let out a sigh and responded, “Well, like most ‘pretty things’ do, I decided to own my own shop, just like this.” You ended your reply with a sardonic laugh. The mocking tone in your voice was unmistakable as you slid the finished product across the desk for him to take.

“That’ll be an even $85, sir.” You looked at him blankly as his eyes narrowed in annoyance, both from your sarcasm and when hearing the price.

“$85 for this heap of crap that’ll die in a few days?!” He exclaimed disbelievingly.

You wanted to respond with, “It’s not like you can’t afford it, asshole,” but your head won out and spoke for you, “They’re in season– but considering that they were already prepared for you, this is a pretty considerate price, sir.”

The man just let out a huff and was about to argue with you more until his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the name, rolling his eyes. Given how he proceeded to neglect your current conversation and went to text harshly instead, you predicted that it was either work or the aforementioned girlfriend. Which number, well, given the excessive frown that was adorning his face, you’d guess #1.

The man shoved his phone back into his pocket forcefully and pulled out his wallet from the other. “‘Considerate’, my ass.” You heard him whisper to himself before saying loudly, “You’re lucky that I respect the nature of good business, sweetheart.” You nodded your head mindlessly as you swiped his card with a smirk. You’re guessing that it was girlfriend #1, for sure.

“Suuuure, pleasure doing business then, sir.” You tell him with an overgrown smile on your face and wave.

He rolled his eyes at you and left with flowers in tow as he rushed out. Looks like he was going to be late again. Now that you were alone, you let out a shameless, hearty laugh at your own quips as you started towards the back area again to continue your original task. Right before you turned though, you heard the roves of familiar engines revving outside. Leaning forward and resting your elbows on the counter, you stared at the incoming troves of motorcycles as they slowed into a stop for the bar across the street.

Resting your face in your hands, your eyes caught sight of one bike in particular, or rather, the owner of said bike.

Ari Levinson, your childhood best friend. Certifiably scary to public onlookers on the outer circle, but huge fluff ball on the inside and to all those that actually knew him. You grew up together, given that both of your father’s were friends and next door neighbors. You remember fondly of a time when you and Ari were chasing each other with water hoses in your front lawn, so young and lively. He was a few years older than you but that didn’t stop you both from playing together from sunrise till sundown.

Your smile waned as you were brought back to reality. Nowadays, you rarely have the chance to catch up with the guy, much less chase each other with water hoses. The reality was that the happy go-lucky kids that grew up together, grew apart. Ari took over the club once his dad died, and you were just sort of…forgotten about. You distinctly remember getting rejected over and over again.

“I can’t see you right now, bun.” or “I’m really busy, we’ll catch up later.”

There were just too many deflections and excuses, so many where you just stopped trying to reach out. You moved away for college and came back to help take care of your dad’s floral shop now that he’s retired. Ever since you moved back a few weeks ago, Ari always smiled at you fondly and you always smiled back but that was the end of any interactions that you’ve had. It felt like that part of your life ended when Ari took the club 10 years ago. You have no idea what Ari is really like now either. Perhaps, you’ve become a part of the outside circle looking in.

Of course, it didn’t stop your crush on him. How could you not have feelings for him? Standing at 6,’’ burly and massive build, full beard and lush hair that curled at the nape of his neck and shagged around his ears, whilst donning a classic leather jacket with silver adornments and all. He was gorgeous, was all man, and so deliciously off-limits.

For a variety of reasons, one of those being Sharon. Ari’s on/off girlfriend since high school where you all met– classic mean girl bullshit, in your opinion. Not only was it the club keeping you two separated, but also Sharon’s decisively demanding and obsessed nature with keeping your hang-outs limited and separate.

As far as you know, they were ‘off’ and have been for a long time. But it doesn’t stop the glares that you receive from her to this day. You laugh about it now, but you do remember all those ‘private chats’ that Sharon pulled you aside for to warn you in ‘backing off’ from stealing Ari’s time. Luckily for her, you and Ari were starting to become on the outs at that time anyway. It was annoying to deal with, but it served as more reinforcement for you to continue forward with your life without him, detached and ready to move on and to be fair, you did.

You graduated college, took on a stable job, and built a community before moving back home. You were fortunate enough to still have some of that now that you’re back too. As for your own romantic life, there have been some hitters. A few who have stayed for some time, either resulting in more heartbreak or a complacent parting.

But never did any of those partners linger and stay with you like how Ari has since you were five years old. You barely knew each other now, there was an animosity there that felt so unresolved but neither of you ever talked about the past, nor drifting apart. Despite this, he still hasn’t really strayed from your heart, not really.

Brought back to the present, you watched as Ari climbed off of his bike, and playfully pushed another biker around before they all started entering the bar. Right before he entered, Ari looked behind his shoulder and you started a bit because he was looking back at you. And you just got caught staring at him first.

You flushed and looked away a bit until you realized that playing it off would probably be even more embarrassing than it would to confront it. You met his stare through the window and caught a smirk on his face as he waved at you. You let out a small laugh and waved back sheepishly. At your response, Ari gave you a gentle smile before tilting his head towards the bar, as if he was inviting you to go over.

You blinked in surprise and instinctively, you gave a regretful shake of your head before waving over at the register to indicate that you were still working. Ari looked disappointed but nodded anyway before giving you one last wave. You responded in kind and he headed inside.

At his departure, the only thing that you were gazing over at were these motorcycles lined up in similar fashion. The main thing that has held you back from even approaching Ari again was glaring right back at you. As you turned to the back once more, you mindlessly continued to put together bouquets as you got lost in your thoughts once more.

You were both adults now, you could go over and say hi. Hell, maybe even spark a conversation about the past for nostalgia’s sake. But it didn’t change the fact that Ari ran a biker’s club that called themselves a ‘club’, but also did very not so legal things.

Rumors started when other biker clubs started coming down from nearby towns or cities. A variety of men and women adorning different cuts and entering the bar across the street wearing stormy expressions. Increased police force around town hasn’t escaped people’s nosy gazes either. It was known that there was obviously something more to the group but nobody questioned it because, well, there really wasn’t any reason to do so.

Beyond a few bad apples here and there, the members of the club were relatively respectful of everyone residing in the neighborhood. Most members themselves were from home, and were known to help out here and there, whether it be through making public donations to charity fundraisers or helping a person put their groceries away.

No doubt, knowing Ari since you were a kid, you suspect that most of the peace has been kept because of him. In retrospect, you weren’t surprised that Ari started pulling away when he did. You both knew what taking over the club would mean for him, and you remember the constant conversations, some tear-filled, of Ari experiencing the pressures of taking the mantle from his father.

You tried your best to comfort him, given what little you did know about the club, but you knew that Ari didn’t really have a choice. While you didn’t remember much about the club when his father was running it, you did remember the strain it had on his relationship with Ari. They weren’t particularly close but they loved each other, in their own way. Being a witness to it helped you become a support system for Ari (and in alot of ways, Sharon too).

While it hurt to be discarded by him the way that he had, the years have taught you resiliency and forgiveness that people are responsible for their lives and what they make of it. You couldn’t fault Ari for trying to do the best with his life as well.

You kept these thoughts close to you as you closed the store for the day. You were pulling down the gated shutters of the store to lock it up when you heard him.

“Finally closing down for the day, bun?” Turning around quickly to face the deep, baritone voice that has haunted you since you were younger, you see Ari smiling at you with upturned lips and his hands in his jacket pockets.

You gulp down a swallow of surprise at the fact that the boy that you have had lifelong feelings for was now a man, who was actually looking and talking to you. You haven’t heard that nickname spoken from him in a long time, and blinked once or twice before responding, “Ari, hi, yeah, I’m about to head out.”

Hearing your own voice, so breathy and soft, made you flush once more. Ari only held his grin at the sight and said, “Would you wanna come get a drink with me and the guys before you head out?”

Instinctively, you shook your head once again at the offer and gave him a reluctant smile. “It’s getting a little dark and I was planning on walking home.”

On hearing that, Ari frowned, “What do you mean, don’t you usually drive into work?”

You frowned at his questioning tone and replied, “I do, but I had to leave the car at Tony’s shop since last week. They’re still waiting for the parts to come in before they could fix it.”

Ari was still frowning as he listened to you, “Bunny, that’s at least a 20 minute walk. It can get dangerous around here this late.”

“Ari, it’s fine. I’m a big girl now, y’know.” You said defensively. You had no idea where he got off scolding you. It’s not like he was around for you to tell him anyways.

Ari sighed and gave you this look as if he were supposed to be told. “I know that, bunny. Trust me, I know.” You frowned again, slight suspicion flooding you at his tone. Especially at the latter half of his response, what is that supposed to mean?

Ari placed his hands on his hips before sighing out, “Okay, come get a drink with me and I’ll take you home.”

Your eyes widened at his offer as he sounded so resolute. “W-what, no–Ari, I’m fine. If I get going now, I’ll make it home before the sun completely sets.”

He returned your defense with his own, “Yeah, well, just because it’s not dark out, doesn’t mean that something won’t happen.”

You released a disbelieving scoff, “Dude, what do you mean-- what could possibly happen?”

Ari stammered out, “I mean, I dunno– bears, wolves! One of ‘em could just come out as you’re walkin’ on the road and then what?” He held out his hands as if it explained everything.

You stared at him with your mouth slightly agape and your brows furrowed at listening to his excuse. You stood there in silence and before you could stuff it down, a smile started to creep upon your face and you let a short laugh that fully erupted into a full giggle. Watching your reaction, Ari also closed his eyes in mirth and started chuckling with you.

You were still giggling as you say in-between catching your breath, “Do you mean to say, lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my!?” You finished with a mocking flourish before releasing a bellowed laugh, your eyes squeezed shut in giddiness.

Ari was full on laughing with you as you made the remark, “Okay, Dorothy – you could shut up now. I heard it as soon as I said it.”

Letting out one last resounding exhale, “It’s okay, Tin-man. I think that I’m familiar with the yellow brick road. I don’t need you to be so worried about me, okay? I’m fine.”

Ari’s eyes glinted at your retort although he sobered up at your continued reassurance. “What- you don’t wanna spend time with you best friend anymore, is that it?”

You recognized the teasing glint in his tone but took notice of this sadness in his eyes. You felt genuinely confused, and concerned, at the sight. Ari was always noticeably mellow and calm when he was around you, even during the smaller interactions that you’ve had throughout the years. This look in his eyes though was new. Or, maybe you never got close enough to really see it.

At that thought, your own sadness seeped in. “That’s not true, Ari. It’s just…” You trailed off, not being able to figure out how to communicate with this person that you didn’t know anymore, but felt so deeply for. How do you tell someone that you miss them, miss their presence, but that time has done its job of making you feel like strangers? That, he, was what caused them to spend time apart in the first place?

You moved on from that. It’s not like you’re aiming to make him feel sad or anything – you just felt so uncomfortable around him despite that moment that you two just had. It was just another reminder of what life would've looked like if you were still in each other’s lives.

Ari let your silence permeate in the space as he finished for you, “It’s just that I haven’t been your best friend in a long time.”

You just looked at him sadly and nodded softly. “It’s…been a long time, Ari.” He looked noticeably sad hearing that as you continued assuringly, wanting to get him to smile again. “But..I miss you lots, Tin-man.”

Echoing the mirthy moment that you had just a few minutes before, the sadness in his eyes was replaced with an affection that you also haven’t seen from him in a long time. It made you feel affectionate in return as you took the invisible olive branch that was present and leaned forward to grab his hand in yours, the same way that you would when you were younger.

Ari let out a breath at the touch of your soft skin on his calloused hand. He gave you a soft smile again while he squeezed your hand in relief. He pulled you forward, the move causing you to let out a surprised squeak, and tugged you to be cradled in his large embrace. The top of your head barely met the middle of his chest as you stood ramrod still, unused to the intimacy that you were now being bestowed.

He seemed oblivious to the stiffness in your body as he only tugged you in closer and rested his head on yours while his arms hugged you around your shoulders and waist. As you stood there, with Ari hugging you, you became increasingly relaxed and moved to put your own arms around his thick waist. At the return of your embrace, Ari let out another relieved sigh and squeezed you tighter. You both started to sway a bit as time went on, the hug never turning awkward nor tense as hands also started to roam reassuringly across waists and backs.

“I’m sorry, bunny.”

The apology though did take you off guard. You didn’t tense up but you did stop swaying. You paused before responding, “It’s okay, Ari.”

There was a lot that you wanted to say in that moment, and ask him, but you felt hesitant to even go down that path. You certainly didn’t expect for this to happen this morning, and it was overwhelming enough that you were laughing with and hugging Ari. The fact that he actually apologized opened up a depth and well of emotion that you didn’t know needed to be opened until he said the words. It seemed like Ari understood that as he pulled back and looked into your tear-shining eyes gazing back up at him. He knew that you’d come to him when you were ready.

One hand left your waist to caress your soft cheek, Ari’s thumb brushing underneath your eye to catch the tear that did fall over. You closed your eyes at how suffocatingly close he felt, his warm, embracing body pressed against yours so intimately.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Ari whispered to you quietly as his fingers moved to caress your hairline right by your temple. His eyes looked at you so fondly and intensely as he continued to touch you. Almost as if he was trying to paint a vivid picture of you with his touch into his mind.

You felt so mesmerized by his gaze as your hands unconsciously caressed him back as your hands resumed making small, slow circles on his vast back. “What do you mean?” You whispered back.

Ari let out a quiet and humming chuckle, “Aw, don’t tell me that our first kiss was that bad, bunny.”

Blinking in surprise at the sudden inserted memory, you started to giggle softly again as he pulled you in closer to his frame. “Oh god, at the freshmen year dance, right?” Ari hummed his agreement as you continued remembering, “Wow, I completely forgot about that. You remember that?”

He was still caressing your face as his thumb drifted down to softly outline the outer edges of your lips. His gaze was still so intense and deep as he said, “I remember everything.”

Your breath hitched at the sensual turn of his voice and at the touch of his thumb now caressing your lips lovingly. You started to blush as the memory persisted at you to be inclusive of what happened after your first kiss. Ari was able to sneak you into his house and into his room, where the both of you continued to make out, but it was also where you ultimately decided to have Ari be your first. He was a little older than you so even though you weren’t his first, you trusted him. It was that night that you realized that your feelings for Ari went beyond just friendship.

You didn’t know it, but it was that moment where Ari realized his own feelings for you too. But that was when his dad was starting to tell him about taking over for the club, and he knew that he couldn’t drag you with him too. Then, he met Sharon (a very vivid mistake that he was still trying to detach from) and all he could think of when he was with her was relief that at least she wasn’t you. You didn’t deserve to have your light tarnished by what was to come.

Still astonished by the flood of memories now crashing back at you, your heart fluttered at how dark Ari’s eyes have gotten since you gazed into them. His thumb now pressing firmly against your bottom lip, you let him graze his finger down against the seam of your plush lips. You gasped quietly as the tip of his thumb also brushed against your wet tongue. Ari released a deep groan at the sight, your responsiveness affecting him just as much.

Your breathing started getting heavier as the tension between you intensified. Your eyes looked up at him again underneath your eyelashes and your eyes held such adoration and desire. It was that look that you didn’t even know that you were giving him that made Ari mutter a low fuck before grabbing your face between his two palms and pressed his lips against yours.

Your hands grasped at the back of his jacket so desperately as you met his kiss just as fervently. Ari kissed you deeply as one of his hands left your face to stroke across your back and downwards to seek a needy grip around your waist. His hand squeezed your hip and you moaned into the kiss while you stood on your tiptoes to clutch onto his broad shoulders and tangle your fingers into his soft hair.

It was Ari’s turn to let out a groan as you tugged gently on his hair. He lifted you off your feet to relieve the strain of your height difference and your legs draped around his waist with another surprised squeak. Still kissing you, he walked two steps towards the dark, side alley of your store building to press you against the brick wall. The both of you let out a resounding groan into each other’s mouths at the feel of Ari’s erection pressing against your warm center covered only by denim and tights.

Ari gently licked the seam of your lips for permission and you let out another breathy moan at the feel of his soft tongue caressing yours. He slanted his lips and moved a strong hand to grip your jaw, almost squeezing your cheeks together, for a better angle. The feeling that washed over you was hot and almost overwhelming as you intrinsically felt how much strength and power the man held as he seamlessly took your weight, and as his hand and mouth took control of the pace of your brazen kiss.

You felt his other hand softly stroke your outer thigh to push up towards the back of your skirt and graze over your sculpted ass. You released another mewl at the feel of him in such an intimate place and you felt Ari growl lowly into the kiss as his tongue almost lapped at yours.

Hearing a car honk next to you broke you out of your little hedonistic bubble and you reluctantly broke away from your kiss. You let out a giggle as that only succeeded in Ari’s lips following yours and his hot, wet tongue tried to engage you in your makeout again. He smiled against your lips as you whimpered at the slow but intense move and his lips worked for a minute until you detached him from again. Ari groaned but respected the small distance placed between your faces.

“I’m sorry, bunny. Was it too much?” Ari asked as he caught his breath.

You giggled and his eyes softened at the sound. “No,” you kissed him softly one more time before leaning your forehead against his, “just, not here.”

Ari’s eyes gleaned darkly as his desire for you clamored wildly once more. Ari said your name so soft and faint, you could barely hear him. “I miss you too. Can I take you home with me, bun?”

You looked back at him with pleading, affectionate eyes and the only word that you could say was, “Please.”

Ari nuzzled the tip of his straight nose against your button one and gave you a lasting, thorough kiss before letting you down and taking your hand in large one, striding towards his bike to take you home.

Entering Ari’s bedroom was surreal. The last time that you were here, you both were so young and you haven’t had life happen to you yet. Now, 10 years later, with Ari looking at you with so much warmth and endearment, it had felt like no time has passed at all.

You released another soft whimper as Ari’s large hands caressed your breasts through your undershirt. You were laying in his bed in your camisole and panties, his naked, taut and tattooed torso pressing against yours. The hard press of his erection felt crushing on your increasingly dampening panties as he slotted himself between your legs.

His tongue expertly brushed yours in another languid kiss. His mouth dragged away from your mouth to kiss the side of your jaw and drift down towards your neck. Ari sensually placed slow, wet kisses behind your ear and softly kissed down only to then lick a stripe up your neck. You gasp out a whine at how hot you felt, as you haven’t felt passion like this in such a long time.

Ari gripped your neck firmly for his thumb to caress your jaw line until he could turn your face so that he could whisper in your ear. “I’ve wanted to do this again for so long, bunny. You have no idea.”

You could only gasp out his name as you felt his warm breath tickling your skin. “I want you, Ari, please.”

Ari groaned deeply and kissed the side of your ear softly, “You have me, baby. You always have.” He kissed his way back to your waiting mouth and you kissed him back eagerly as your tongues stroked each other with something akin to neediness.

The both of you have been wanting each other for so long, it was seemingly clear to the both of you that you were making up for lost time starting now.

Ari stopped kissing you only to reach for the bottom of your tank top and lift the shirt off over your head, exposing your lucious, round breasts. Your light and tan areolas, nipples pert and ready to be suckled had Ari lean down to lick softly and suck gently into his impatient mouth.

Your nipples were connected straight to that pit of pleasure in your stomach as you let out a wanton moan. Ari kissed and licked between your breasts before drifting down the center of your soft stomach, placing wet kisses as he went. His eyes never left yours as his hands reached up to squeeze the wet tips of your nipples and eventually drift down the soft sides of your tummy.

Feeling overstimulated by his touch, you held no restraint for the noises coming out of your mouth. You felt tears creeping in the corner of your eyes at how badly you wanted him to keep caressing you with his calloused, big hands and for his hot mouth to never leave your supple skin.

Ari took in all of your moans and whimpers and he could feel his own restraint waning as he crept closer to your clad-covered pussy. Paired with your cute noises, seeing the thin fabric wetly sticking to your drenched slit made Ari inhale deeply. A picture of you in this moment was made complete when he took in the scent of your weeping cunt and Ari’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he released a low, guttural moan, “Fuuuck, bunny. I can’t wait anymore.”

You cried out in surprise as Ari’s tongue dragged up against your wet slit through your underwear. His mouth never left your cunt as he attempted to suck your juices through the fabric, groaning as he did it. Kissing up your mound, his fingers found the sides of your underwear hugging your hips only to drag it down harshly. The scent and first taste of you making him feral as he practically ripped your underwear down your legs.

The fabric still resting in around one ankle, Ari couldn’t wait as he proceeded to stuff his face full of your dripping pussy. Crying out loudly at the sensation of Ari’s mouth ravishing you, your hips started writhing on the bed to get closer to his mouth as your hands fisted the sheets next to your head.

You gasped out for breath as you felt Ari’s tongue lap at the wet on your lips before cutting through to lap at your pulsing clit. Letting out his own hums of satisfaction, Ari motioned his tongue in drawing slow and steady figure eights on your bundle of nerves as his lips closed over and sucked.

The suction of his lips and the steady pressure of his wet tongue on your clit felt so giving as you started keening for more. Your hips elevated off the bed, you could feel the wet that was pooling underneath the sheets trying to cling to your wet cunt as Ari followed your motions to keep sucking at your pink pearl. Ari grunted as he felt you try to escape his zealous mouth and used his forearm to bring you back down to the bed. His shoulders leaned further on top of you to keep them from closing. He kept one hand around the soft pudge of your stomach for leverage as he continued burrowing himself into your soaked pussy.

You fervently tried to arch up from Ari’s voracious tongue as it swirled against your clit only to catch at your opening. Ari smiled against your cunt and was openly groaning as he caught more of you in his mouth as his tongue swept up to thrust into you softly. You released a high pitched whimper as you feel Ari shake his head gently to get his tongue deeper inside you. Lapping for the wetness inside you, your thighs started to shake involuntarily. You felt the pleasure grow and expand to the tight knot that was held internally.

“Ari, oh god, I’m so c-close, please, please. I need to cum, please.” You begged him with your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hands reached down as you felt him retreat from your pussy and you released an affronted whine as your hand went to the back of his quickly to push his mouth back onto your pulsing, needy cunt.

Ari only laughed against your pussy and lapped faster, almost inhaling your sweet wetness as it covered the tip of his nose and all over his mouth and chin. The only sounds that could be heard were your short breathed whimpers, and the sounds of your squelching pussy juices being sucked by Ari’s ravenous mouth.

Your hips were grinding against his tongue as you chased your release. Your breath stilted as you felt the flat of Ari’s eager tongue press down hard against your clit to create an enveloping, suction sensation that just felt so wet and warm, you jolted forward with a loud cry as your orgasm hit intensely.

It felt never ending as Ari’s tongue never stopped its pressured motions on your clit and your eyes rolled back again as your second release unexpectedly crept up and squirted all over Ari’s waiting mouth. He groaned his pleasant surprise as he lapped up the wave of gush from your sobbing pussy earnestly, and only stopped lapping at you once you moved a hand to his forehead to push him away from your sated hole.

Ari was breathing just as heavily as you as he gazed at your pulsing pussy in the aftermath of being thoroughly destroyed by his mouth. “Aw, bunny, look at you. You’re shakin’ for me.”

He stroked his hand down your trembling body to gently brush his thumb against your swollen clit and you jumped from how sensitive you were. But Ari didn’t notice as his greedy only eyes saw another seep of cum drip down your hole. He couldn’t help but do it again as he saw more cum spurt out of you, and his tongue moved faster before he could help himself by sweeping in with his tongue on your opening to catch more of it in his mouth.

You let out a choked sob at feeling his tongue on your cooling, wet flesh once more. Ari didn’t stop stroking his calloused thumb against your overstimulated clit as he lapped at your opening over and over again. Not having enough rest time in between your last two orgasms, your third was unrestrained as you went quiet, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, looking possessed as you squirt hard from the fast pressure of both his thumb and tongue stimulating you at the same time.

Ari released his own resounding hum of gratification of feeling your wetness coat his tongue completely as he swallowed your cum down his throat. Your eyes were still rolled behind your head as you let out quiet grunts of relief, the knot at your stomach so unraveled and your body felt so pliant and loose. You only came to when you felt Ari’s wet, bearded mouth press kisses on your still trembling inner thighs and back towards your torso to gently suck on your nipples.

Feeling so hazy and barely there, you moaned quietly as he swirled his warm tongue on your nipple until he was kissing back up towards your chapped lips. Ari’s tongue quickly fixed that though as he made sure to lick up into your mouth, coating your tongue in your own essence.

You lazily stroked yours back against his in deep gratitude and immense sensuality. Ari let out a small, almost condescending laugh against your lips. “You okay, bun? Do you think I got your pretty pussy wet enough to take my cock?”

“Yes,” you whispered desperately against his mouth that was still leaving kisses on your open lips. “I can take it, please.”

Ari huffed out a disbelieving breath on your bottom lip at how good he has it right now. “God, you’re such a good girl, bunny. That’s right, I know you can take it. Think I need to prep you a little more okay, honey?”

You let out another affronted whine and no as you attempted to reach for his cock between you. Your hand landed right on his large, hard appendage and you stroked him as he let out relieved moans at the feeling of your small hand on his covered cock. Reaching down, Ari pulled down his own boxer briefs until your hand could feel his soft flesh.

Groaning loudly at the skin to skin contact, Ari let you squeeze his cock and stroke it with slow motions as he stroked two fingers against your wet lips and into your soft fleshy tongue. You moaned while sucking the digits in your mouth and stroked your tongue against them erotically. Ari groaned and bit his lip at watching your lips suck on fingers before pulling out of your mouth to reach down and stroke at your clit again.

Your hips raised as your pussy felt so sensitive and yet the pressure felt so fucking good at the same time. Ari chuckled again as he thrust his middle finger inside your tight cunt. Your teary eyes rolled again with a pleasured frown at the intrusive feeling. He lets out a resounding moan at the feeling of your wet channel squeezing his finger, “Damn baby, your pussy is so fucking tight. I have to work you up some more, okay, bunny? I don’t wanna hurt you.” You whined your assent as he thrusted his finger slowly before attempting to add in another.

You tensed up a bit when he tried and in a quick move, Ari leaned down to take your responsive clit in his mouth once more. Gasping out a moan at the sudden stimulation, that familiar pleasure swept back into your stomach. He felt your wet hole give more and more as you relaxed for him. He swirled his tongue against your clit and motioned his fingers inside your pussy in a “come hither” motion. Your eyes widened and you let out a chirp at the feeling of his fingers grazing your g-spot.

Ari’s eyes found yours as he looked up at you, releasing your clit with a soft and wet pop, “Ah, there it is, bunny, I got you.” At his words, you could only let out another lewd moan that became increasingly louder as his mouth went back to lapping at your clit in quick motions.

Your already glazed over eyes and fucked out look had Ari react wildly again, “Fuck, baby, I can’t get enough, I need one more taste, just one more.” You were so out of it, getting lost in your pleasure that you didn’t know what he was really referring to until he placed one large hand on top of your soft, pillowy stomach and pressed down while his fingers seemed to press deeper and faster inside of you.

Letting out a high pitched wail, your whole body locked stiffly as you felt it coming again. With a prolonged keen, you squirted your pleasure intensely as Ari continued to almost aggressively finger your g-spot while catching as much cum as he could in his mouth. Your whole body was twitching and squirming as you could only let out a few shaky breaths as aftershocks rolled through your used body.

Ari was breathing heavily as he gave one last craved lick up the cut of your pussy before withdrawing his fingers slowly for him to sit up and hold his heavy cock in his cum-drenched hand. You peered up at Ari with glazed over eyes to see his mouth and chest covered in his own sweat and your cum as he grasped his wide, girthy cock and aligned it with your quivering opening.

Not even allowing you to take a break, Ari knew that you would take him easier with your body completely relaxed and open like this. You were coherent enough to feel the tip of his hard cock nestle and rub against your tender clit until he reached down and plunged slowly into your tight core.

The both of you released a combined sound of a relieved sigh and gratified moan at the feeling of your pussy taking him in so smoothly. Since he entered slowly, you could feel every inch of his thick, veiny cock press inside of you.

Ari’s mouth was agape, his blue eyes stormy and narrowed as he stared at how his cock entered you, as he also indulged in the tightness and warmth of your sweet cunt. He withdrew from your pussy with a satisfied grunt, “See, bunny– fuuuuck, you’re taking me so well. I knew you could do it.”

You smiled gently and whimpered at his praise, you felt so cared for while Ari continued to thrust into you deeply. Succumbing to the filthy pleasure of his cock, your eyes rolled back in your head again as you released whimpered, soft ‘ngh’ sounds from your parted lips with every thrust he gave you. Letting out his own guttural grunts from his throat, Ari’s head tipped back as he gripped onto your thighs harshly. Your pussy was stretched around his thick cock and your tight channel welcomed him in so well.

“More, Ari, please– more,” you cried out as you started to meet his thrusts with your own.

“Yeah, bunny? Want me to fuck you like this?” Ari gritted his teeth as he moved faster into your pussy. You keened a quiet but intense ‘yes’ as your moans became louder again as Ari thrusted harder into you, his own groans were unrestrained as he tried to maintain composure.

With each thrust, Ari became fixated on watching your gripping pussy clench down onto his large cock with a mix of both of your cum dragging down his length and accumulating around the end of his dick. The sight was too overwhelming for Ari as he shut his eyes with furrowed brows in pleasure as he tried to last a little longer.

His attempts weren’t working so he clenched his teeth with a deprived grunt before pulling out of you, only to turn you over onto your stomach with a sharp smack against your ass. You let out a surprised yelp only to moan your pleasure again as Ari thrust back inside of you. Your knees were pressed onto the bed as he contorted your figure so that your face laid flat against the damp sheets, and your ass high up in the air being jostled by his cock.

One hand holding you down at the back of your neck, you felt Ari’s other hand stroke and press up and down your back languidly as his cock thrusted into you deceivingly hard and fast. The feeling of his hands on your damp skin just made you feel even more wrapped up in your pleasure. Your moans became high-pitched whimpers again as you felt Ari adjust his angle, and his next thrust landed right against your g-spot. You gasped as you choked on the whimpers leaving your throat and suddenly you couldn’t make any sounds at all. Your body went noticeably limp as Ari took you like a rag doll. Ari noticed this and how quiet you suddenly got and peered over while thrusting into you roughly.

After a moment of him fucking you furiously, he cooed and laughed, “Bunny, as much as I love hearing those cute sounds leave you, I really love it when you get quiet.” In his last words, he smacked your ass again and gripped your cheek tightly, the flesh caught in his fist turning the skin around it white, while he thrusted harder into your spot as he got you towards the finish line.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer pleasure of his cock ambitiously driving inside of you– combined with the feeling of his tight grip of his large hands on your pliant ass, your body squirted out your cum again but this time on Ari’s unrelenting cock. You tightened up so delightfully on his member, Ari couldn’t help the hissing moan from his mouth when he felt your pussy almost eject him from how tight you were pushing out your cum.

Not resisting, he quickly pulled out to see your squirt fully released. Breathing heavily at the sight, Ari tapped the mushroom head of his dick against your puffy clit eagerly and you let out a guttural moan as you squirt again at the stimulation. Ari could only let out another laughing moan as he did it once more with succeeding results. Little spurts of squirt seeped out of you and Ari tilted his head back, cursing at how sexy you were as he thrust deeply back into you.

Needing to see it one more time, Ari knew exactly what to do as he grunted and grinded against that spot inside of you, quickly rubbing the tip of dick against the spongy flesh and quickly pulled out for more squirt to gush out of you. The feeling of your tight pussy’s lasting grip on his aching cock was what felt so addicting to him as he did it again. You mewled tiredly and Ari could tell that you were at your limit although your back arched into him for more.

“Must feel so good, huh, bunny?” Ari checked in with you once he gained some semblance of control over his cock-driven brain. You assented with a tired ‘mhm’ and moaned softly as Ari entered you slowly so as to not continue overstimulating your thoroughly used cunt.

“Okay, baby, I think it's my turn now to feel good,” Ari says almost darkly. You give no response as you jut your ass out towards his pacing cock more as a sign for him to take you to his pleasure filled desire. But that’s okay, Ari didn’t need to hear you for this part.

Groaning loudly and deeply, he thrusted back into your sopping wet pussy as he finally chased his pleasure. You were quietly letting out your own moans as you gyrated back against him and it didn’t take long for him to get there. Teetering on the edge for some time, it only took one final thrust into you when Ari released a loud, roaring moan that came from deep in his throat as he spurted his hot cum inside your pulsating channel.

Ari shallowly thrusted his cum inside of you while catching his breath. He pulled back with a satisfied grunt to see a mix of your cum together and leaking out of you so prettily.

You were barely there as you moaned your satisfaction at the feeling of Ari using his half-hard cock to thrust your combined spend back inside of you with one last deep thrust. Ari squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure as he plugged your release back in and slowly extricated himself from your used cunt.

Feeling sleepy and floaty, you sinked back down onto your stomach, uncaring of the very wet sheets underneath you. As you floated between sleep and the present, you could feel a wet cloth pet at your opening and you groaned at the cooling feeling of Ari wiping you clean.

Laying down next to you, Ari pulled your sated body into his warm embrace and kissed your sweaty forehead with so much love and care.

As you hum in content, you were about to float away into a deep sleep when you heard Ari whisper one last note of affection, “I’ll never drift away from you again, Bunny. I love you.”

ok thots thoughts? ima just leave this here and ya'll could just tell me what u think 🙂‍↕️🫣

who do we think the guy in the Ferragamos is? we'll see him in part 2, dats fo sho.

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notakugelblitz · 4 months ago

Text

FERNANDO • Five Hargreeves x Reader

as everyone seems so sad since the release of season 4, i thought this could help :’)

it takes place during season 3, during Luther and Sloane’s wedding. as you spend your last moments with your siblings in law, you start to have some regrets about the life you could have had with Five.

NO WARNING, all fluff 😊 2341 words

i got inspired by ABBA’s song Fernando and it’s so Five x Y/N related I love it (well this is how I interpret it)

english isn’t my first language so sorry if you spot any mistake

enjoy ☂️

It was only a matter of hours now. You were all staying at the Hotel Oblivion, the last survivors. The Kugelblitz was growing and yet, Sloane and Luther had decided to marry.

While the boys were having a bachelor party before the ceremony, you were wandering the corridors aimlessly.

Ever since you arrived in 2019 with Five, his family quickly became yours. They welcomed you so warmly and trying to save the world twice clearly forged something big. But when you met the Sparrows, the hate that they felt against them seemed rather excessive (apart from Luther of course). Probably due to your age, you felt more mature about it. Seeing Sloane and Ben loosing all of their family pained you grandly.

You even found in Luther’s future wife a friend, which was a surprise but you enjoyed her kindness quite much. Your feet led you to Sloane’s room so unhesitatingly you knocked at her door which was half opened. She answered and smiled as she spotted you.

“Y/N ! Come in !” Sloane said to you, her soon-to-be former Sparrow Academy sister, in a cheerful fashion as she closed the door behind her.

Then she turned to face her once the door was firmly shut. You smiled, noticing the dress Sloane was sewing herself.

“It looks flawless.” you said, pointing at the white dress laying on the bed.

Sloane smiled gently at your comment and walked over to it, caressing the dress lovingly with her hand.

“Thank you … I just hope it fits me.”

“I’m sure it will. Nothing you wear unfits you.”

You chuckled a bit falsely, feeling a pain in your heart but yet you managed to smile. It was the best day of Sloane's life, and probably her last, after all.

She seemed to notice the sadness in your eyes and immediately became concerned as she took a closer look at you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong ? You look … sad.”

You sighed and grabbed a vase, sitting on the chair as you took the flowers out of it. You started to tie the stems altogether to create a crown.

“I am not sad. I am just … seeing you all excited for your wedding … I’ve been there too … ” you let out.

Sloane smiled and sat down on the bed opposite you, watching you make a crown out of the vase’s contents.

“Yes, I am but … I get the impression that you didn’t enjoy yours ?” she said slowly, a hint of suspicion in her voice as she tried to make sense of your comment.

“Oh no, I loved it !” you exclaimed suddenly. “I had the most wonderful wedding. And I believe yours will be just as perfect.”

She smiled genuinely as she heard you say that you enjoyed your wedding.

“Well … I’m relieved to hear that ! For a moment, I thought you’d been married to an arsehole or something !”

“Five is an arsehole indeed, but he is a great man, I can assure you.” you laughed.

You then approached her to check the size of the crown on her head.

“There.”

Sloane smiled as you placed the flower crown on her head carefully. Feeling the weight of it, she looked in the mirror, gently caressing the flowers and admiring the work that had been done on it.

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful …”

You looked at Sloane’s reflection and surprised yourself with a sort of mothering smile. It suddenly brought you nostalgia and sadness at the same time. Sloane checked over her shoulder, noticing your change of mood, a look of concern once again present on her face.

“Y/N … are you sure you’re okay ?”

You pinched your nose and sighed, trying to avoid some tears from falling. You couldn’t believe how weak your were but the tiredness and the end of the world wasn’t making it easy.

“Five and I married when we were 56. Secretly, as it was forbidden by the … by our employers,” you started to explain.

You checked on her, wanting to know if she was ok with you opening up like this. Her eyes saying like “Go on, I’m listening.” and her hand grabbing yours relieved you suddenly.

“I am 58 now. I just wish I had met him sooner …”

You looked down at your feet. It might sound weird for Sloane as you also had the appearance of a teenager. But still she kept holding your hand, gently rubbing the back of it with her thumb as you spoke, trying to give comfort in any way she could.

“Is that why you’re sad ? Because you wished you’d had more time with Five ?”

“When we got back here, we thought of a well-deserved retirement..” you sighed deeply. “But then he decided to save the world again because he’s addicted to it. And I wouldn’t blame him for that, he spent his life doing so. I just …”

You bit your lips, looking down at her hands, young and soft.

“And you just … want to be able to grow old with him … like normal people who marry and have a family …”

You looked up at Sloane, surprised that she’d understand that easily. You slightly opened your mouth because of the astonishment but shook your head.

“I know that everyone expect me to say that I have no regrets because I had time, unlike you … no offense of course. But coming back in 2019, both of us teenagers again, I thought … it sounds stupid, but I thought we had another chance, you know ? To grow old normally, without any Commission nor Kugelblitz.”

“I get that … you feel like you’ve been robbed.”

You nodded and looked up at her, cupping her cheek with your free hand.

“I shouldn’t bother you with that. Let’s enjoy this night, shall we?”

Sloane seemed to freeze.

“Would you like to be my maid of honour ?” she lets out suddenly.

You arched an eyebrow and smirked.

“I mean … you’re the only friend I’ve got here and … Ben is a dumbass. And a boy.”

“Yeah right … I’d be honoured.” you chuckled.

Without warning, Sloane hugged you tightly, resting her chin upon your shoulder. This felt good actually, and you got a bit moved knowing that you both needed it. At this moment Sloane’s wedding became your last most important mission. You wanted to ensure that it’ll be the night of her life and all the happiness she could feel, the same you felt back then, shan’t be disturbed.

• • •

The Hotel Oblivion had never been as beautiful as it was now, with the Hargreeves being the last survivors on earth. Celebrating a wedding a day before the end of the world had something rather beautiful.

You were standing by the aisle, beside Sloane, as you were her maid of honor. You looked at her and Luther with a kind of nostalgia, smiling a bit sadly while Klaus was pronouncing some vows.

As Klaus’s speech continued, Five kept his eyes on you. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia himself as he took in the moment. All the people he loved most were here with him, yet he knew deep down that these would be the last moments they’d get to spend together like this. The thought was more than a little concerning to him, and the hand holding his glass subconsciously clenched into a fist.

At the end of the ceremony, everyone went their separate ways, some dancing on the dance floor, some at the buffet. You headed directly to the bar where all the alcohol was, serving yourself a glass of whisky with the same nostalgia and sadness in your eyes.

Even though you had moved to the bar, it was as if Five’s eyes had never once left you. So he grabbed another glass and joined you at the bar.

“Are you just planning on staying here all night ?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.

Just by his tone, it seemed as if he was trying to hide his concern under his usual snarky demeanor.

“Aren’t you ?” you asked, pouring some whisky into his glass.

You sighed and lifted your glass to raise a toast with him, your smile a bit off. Five raised his glass as well, clinking it against yours.

“You’ve got a point there.”

He took a rather large gulp of the drink before setting the glass down. Five glances at you as a look of concern crossed his face again.

“You’ve got that look on your face. You alright ?”

You sighed and drank your glass bottoms up, then filled it up again. You then turned to see Sloane and Luther dancing happily.

“Do you have any regrets ?” you asked monotonously. “I mean… we never had the time to really enjoy a happy married couple life, you know ?”

He turned his head towards you and raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Are you being serious right now ?” he quipped.

“That’s what you’re worried about ? Really ?”

“Did we, Five ?” you asked, looking right at him with pain in your eyes. “I mean, yes, we got married, but for what ? Working two years at the Commission with your name after mine and then coming back in 2019 to save the world and have no fucking break.”

You sighed and drank your glass again, bottoms up, not disturbed by the strength of the alcohol.

He sighed, running a hand down his face as he spoke.

“That … that’s not a very fair question. It’s not as if we could’ve helped it.” he started off, trying to reassure you as he picked up his glass and swirled the alcohol around. “Things just happened that we had to deal with. Like you said, we were more focused on stopping the apocalypse than ... anything normal couples would usually do.”

“I dreamt of a retirement, Five. I truly did,” you let out. “Reappearing here with damn teenage appearances, I… I thought we had a second chance, you know ? Having a whole life for ourselves. But no.”

You sniffed and poured yourself another glass. A look of hurt and concern spread across his face even more at this. He knew how badly you had wanted to experience life like every normal people did and all that came with it, and seeing you admit how disappointed you were … it was crushing for him.

He put his hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it as he tried to find the right words to say to console you.

“You know it’s not too late, right ?” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“We only have a day left, Five. Don’t mock me.”

He grabbed you by both shoulders and turned you to face him, gripping them tight.

“I am not.” he said defensively, his voice regaining its hard, blunt tone. “You’d know that if you’d just listen to me for a minute. What I’m trying to say is … you want to experience being a normal, young adult ? Fine. Well, there’s nothing stopping us now, is there ? So stop sulking and start enjoying this while it lasts.”

You looked at him with surprised eyes, rather shocked by what he said. You didn’t have the words, mouth slightly open. The music stopped and another song started : "Fernando" by ABBA. You felt shivers down your spine hearing it. It was the song that played during your first dance … well, it played on the car radio, and you danced somewhere on the side of the road on your way back from your little clandestine marriage back in 1977.

As soon as he heard the opening beats of this special song, he couldn’t help but smirk and internally snicker, already anticipating his next move. He grabbed your hand with a slightly tight grip and started to pull you to the dance floor.

“Five, what are you doing ?” you gasped, leaving your glass on the table.

You were still a bit shocked but let him pull you anyway.

“Oh my ! Five is going to dance !” Lila exclaimed.

“Awwwww, that is way too cuuuuute !” Klaus chuckled.

“Gross.” Ben added.

Five glared at the others as he dragged you towards the dance floor, ignoring their teasing. However, the death glare changed back into a smirk once he got onto the dance floor and pulled you into his arms.

“Just shut up and dance with me,” he quipped.

“But you never dance …” you whispered.

But you didn’t say a word when he placed your hands on his shoulder and in his palm.

“You’ve been wanting to have your time to enjoy yourself as a married couple, right ?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “So then … why not spend our last night doing exactly that ?”

You huffed, touched by his words. It seemed like the end of the world had opened his eyes somehow, and enjoying every last minute with the people he loved felt more important now, ever since he met his old version saying that he shouldn’t save the world and all that awful stuff …

You smiled at him widely.

“Thank you …” you almost whispered.

His heart felt both heavy and warm at your words. Heavy in the fact that he was suddenly very aware of how limited their time was … but warm in the fact that it seemed like you’d finally come back to your senses.

“Save your thanks and enjoy yourself for the night, okay ?” he replied quietly, a small smirk on his lips. “The only reason I’m doing this is so you’ll stop moping and complaining, just so you know.”

“Yeah, right.”

You chuckled, knowing that he was doing it for himself too.

“Though we never thought that we could lose, there's no regret.” you quietly hummed along.

Five spun you around, and he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, enjoying himself much more than he thought he would. Seeing him smile like this, being truly happy after a long time, moved you a bit. Those dimples, his glimmering eyes …

As you hummed to the lyrics of the song, the smirk on his face widened, and he began to sing along.

"If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando."

#five hargreeves #five x reader #five hargreaves x reader #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy #number five #five x y/n #Spotify

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malusmagpie · 2 years ago

Text

His Best Girl.

Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: You two used to be thick as thieves but The Council split you up. Anakin isn't having that go on any longer.

Warnings: 18+ !!!! SMUTTY !!!! Taking virginity, jealousy, restraint, dirty talk/praise kink, hair pulling, dominance, "master" kink, neck kissing, biting, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, etc.

A/N: Y/N/N means your nick name! Inspo from a drabble by @skywlker-sluvtt about the reader being a virgin/inexperienced. Surprise! It's a long one again. I haven't ever written one shots this long idk what's come over me. (It's Anakin. Anakin has come over me.) I love the anakin x jedi reader trope and I can world build forever with it. Anyways, enjoy you filthy animals and thank you so much for the love!! <3 Y'all have made me feel very welcome here.

Word Count: 4.4k

You were just a little girl when you were taken in by the Jedi Council. You remember how wide your eyes were as you watched the planet of Coruscant get closer and closer. You were 8. Anakin was 11. You both clicked quickly and were essentially glued to each others hips. You’d talk yourselves into trouble, sneak out to go stare at the stars at midnight and throw food at each other in the dining hall instead of eating.

When you were children that was fine, it was nothing a stern talking to couldn’t fix. As you grew older, the council began to take strict measures to ensure you two would only be together when absolutely necessary. They decided it was in both of your best interests to stay away from each other and the bond you two shared eventually dwindled. Instead of whispering while a Master was attempting to do their teaching, the two of you would barely exchange glances. You’d walk silently in a single file line to the dining hall, no longer bothering to take the heat for walking next to each other.

The whispering and laughing turned into polite nods and common greetings said in passing. You’d walk right by him and bow your head at him, he’d reciprocate with a fairly neutral expression gracing his features. You’d always feel his head turn to look back at you as you walked in opposite direction, he found himself often wishing he could call over his shoulder and tease you and tell you your form needed work or that your footwork was a mess like he used to when you were young.

You were 19 now. Anakin was 22. You’d barely looked at each other or spoken for longer than a few moments in years. The fear of going against the Councils wishes outweighed your nostalgia for the friendship you once shared. You wanted to be great and so did Anakin. So the two of you focused on becoming the people you’d both dreamed of being.

It wasn’t long until Anakin was knighted. The ceremony was filled with toasts and speeches. You sat with the small group of girls that you had become friendly with over the years and ate your meticulously prepared meal. Anakin sat next to Obi-Wan, along with the other Jedi Masters at the long table at the front of the room. You wished you could give him a hug, congratulate him, tell him he deserved the praise he was getting. He had grown so much you often had a hard time recognizing the little boy you once knew.

You did your fair share of filling out as well. Anakin didn’t let that go unnoticed as his eyes would trail over you when you’d find yourselves in a shared space. When he thought you weren’t looking his eyes would take in every inch of you but you could feel him. You felt every movement of his eyes on you and you could never bare it so you’d often excuse yourself.

That trend continued tonight and as you sat in the large dining hall you felt eyes looking over you. It was such a strong gaze you could practically feel it like fingers touching on the skin under your Jedi appointed uniform. You shivered as you placed your fork next to your plate. Your eyes darted over to Anakin who, to no surprise, was looking right at you. Your tongue darted out to soften your suddenly dry lips and you pressed them into a hint of a smile. He returned the small smile and looked back at Obi-Wan who was proudly speaking to him about their last mission together.

The feeling of his gaze made your stomach flip and you stood up, excusing yourself politely. The need to use the bathroom as a safe space to calm yourself grew within you. You walked through the rows of tables, still feeling a set of eyes on you, and felt a hand lightly grasp your arm and your head snapped to look down at a boy you had trained with once before smiling up at you from his chair. He had dark short hair and piercing green eyes.

“You look nice tonight.” He smiled at you and you raised an eyebrow. “I look the same as I always do.” You muttered, confused and still feeling eyes on you. The gaze harshened and you dropped your head, ignoring it. “Yeah but.. Your hair. You left it down. It’s nice.” He smiled again, he was handsome but this really was not your prerogative. You smiled politely at him and mumbled a thanks to get the interaction over with before scurrying to the bathroom.

Anakin looked between you and the boy as you two spoke, desperately trying to read lips, focus on your voices through the Force, anything to know what was going on. When you smiled he felt his hand tighten around the glass he was raising to his lips. There was a level of possessiveness that Anakin held on to when it came to you. Growing up you were his best friend. His favorite. His best girl. Now you were effectually strangers and it killed him a little every day when you’d curl your perfect lips into a shy smile at him, or wave your soft looking hand at him in passing. He didn’t act on it now when he saw the way the guys would look at you and talk to you but he sure as hell felt jealousy bubble up within him every time it happened. He placed the glass down a little harder than even he expected, his hands pushed against the table so he could stand up. He adjusted his robe as he stood and looked at Obi-Wan. “I’ll be right back.” He muttered as he stepped away from the commotion in the dining hall. He made sure to slip past the boy who had been speaking to you, standing tall and walking confidently. The quiet washed over him as the door of the dining hall closed behind him.

You were standing in the bathroom in front of one of the giant mirrors at the sinks. Your hand combed its way through the ends of your hair, as you tried to make the soft natural curls you had look more presentable. You sighed in frustration when they simply stayed the way they were. You pulled your Jedi robe down and tucked it further into your utility belt to make it look less lumpy from sitting down. The small amount of makeup you had attempted to put on looked alright but it made you mad regardless. Why couldn’t it just look perfect? You thought. You groaned and placed your hands on the corner of the counter, leaning toward your own reflection. You’d never cared about what you looked like before but something about that boys words made your mind go straight to over thinking. “So stupid.” You whispered to yourself.

You felt something, or somebody near you. The Force wasn’t hard to navigate when it was this quiet and your eyes darted to the reflection of the door behind you in the mirror. You watched the door crack open and a sandy blonde head peered in. Anakin pushed the rest of the door open and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made sure to lock it incase somebody came in and gave him shit for being in the women’s lavatory.

“What’re you doing in here?” You whispered, turning around to face him. You took a few steps toward him, only enough for your voice to travel to him without having to raise it. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the beam next to him. His broad shoulders raised and dropped and he looked over you again. “Just wanted to check on you.” He spoke with a small smile on his lips. Maker, you could tackle him to the ground when he did that.

You took a deep breath and looked around the room as you thought of what to say next. “Why would you check on me?” Your eyebrow raised slightly. “Wanted to make sure that little creep didn’t come in here with you.” His words were laced with an emotion you weren’t familiar with and you were taken aback. “Little creep? What are you-“ Your head raised a bit as you realized who and what he was talking about. “Him? He’s just somebody I practiced with one time. I wouldn’t- I’ve never..” Your brain found it increasingly hard to find the right words as you watched Anakin. His strong arms were still crossed over his large chest and he tightened his jaw every time you stuttered.

With a prompt shake of his head he took a step forward, his tongue pushed against the front of his teeth as he smiled with an unbelieving expression. “You’ve never what?” He said, his voice was surprisingly venomous as he spoke to you, you hadn’t gotten a chance to realize how tall he’d gotten until he stepped closer and towered over you. “Done something like that.” Your eyes dropped to gaze at the floor as you muttered the words that he had forced out of you.

There was silence for a moment. His thumb and pointer finger slipped under your chin and grasped it gently to make you look up at him. His blue eyes were a bit darker than normal and your heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. “Never?” He asked, his interrogation was completely unexpected. You opened and closed your mouth and decided to nod your head instead of let yourself try to speak again. He continued to stare down at you, his eyes searching yours for even a hint of dishonesty. He never found it. “Still my best girl..” He mumbled and your eyebrows pushed together. You hadn’t heard him say that in years though now, it seemed to have a bit of a different meaning to it.

“You’ve grown so much, Y/N/N.” He whispered as his face neared yours. You gulped the access saliva in your mouth down as you responded. “You have too, Ani.” Your words came out weak, you didn’t have the same confidence you normally carried yourself with and it made Anakin smirk. Your soft voice saying the nickname he only allowed you to use made his length twitch in his pants ever so slightly. He hummed and it was almost inaudible. Something about being the only one to know you as well as he did ignited something within him.

“You’ve grown.. But you’ve never had anything special.. Have you?” He whispered. “Something that made you feel good..” His words wrapped around you like an electric blanket and his hand moved to cup your cheek while his thumb caressed it. Your breathing shook and your eyes widened at his words. “N-no.” You muttered through your labored breathing. You could sense how excited this was making him and it was making you feel like you could throw up from anticipation of his next moves. Your cheeks reddened and your ears burned as he looked between your eyes and your lips. “Nobody’s ever gotten to feel those pretty lips? Or hear what could fall from between them?” You gasped quietly at his words and shook your head, your eyes never left his. His thumb moved to trace your lips gently and your eyes rolled back for a fraction of a second. His expression seemed to get more and more intense, his own breathing became a bit heavier.

“And those hands… Nobody’s ever felt how soft and useful they can be?” His free hand traced a finger down your arm before grabbing your hand. Your head was spinning as you shook your head again and he laughed softly. “Can’t even talk.. So fucking innocent.” He growled into your ear and your breath caught in your throat loudly. He smiled at the reactions he was getting from you. He used his grasp on your hand to turn the both of you around so your back was against the wall and he pinned your hand above your head.

“Anakin..” You muttered, your face was bright red and your breath just couldn’t be caught. His warm body pressed up against yours and you whimpered involuntarily at the feeling. He smirked at the reaction and began to place the softest of kisses on your neck, jaw, cheeks, and corners of your mouth. You bit your lip and took deep breaths through your nose. “Please kiss me.” You whined and his head lifted, eyes shining at you. He seemed physically unable to wipe the cunning smile off his face as he pressed his lips against yours. They were hot and soft, causing you to practically melt into him.

It was deep and longing, the feeling behind the kiss. He was smothering you and you couldn’t breathe but it was all worth it. Small breaths were caught between kisses and he stopped to whisper against your lips. “Open..” And you did. You opened your mouth for him and he immediately sucked on your tongue. You gasped and your eyes snapped open to see his still fluttered closed as he tangled his muscle with yours through open mouthed kisses. Your eyes squeezed shut again when his free hand palmed your breast, pushing upward, grabbing it and repeating. His name left your lips and his hips bucked toward yours ever so gently.

“Master Anakin.” He groaned, correcting you against your lips and you complied. “Master Anakin..” You whispered as your head bounced back against the wall in pleasure and you kept it there because he immediately moved his lips down to your neck. He left bites and sucked gently, even blowing on where he left his saliva and you flinched harder causing your free hand to snap up and grab hold of his hair. Your legs squeezed together as you stood against the wall for some kind of release and he stuck his knee between your legs.

“That’s my job.” He growled against your neck. He pushed your pants down with aggression and you kicked them off your feet. He sat on his knees in front of you and grabbed onto your hips, his fingers squeezed into your ass and you moaned. Your legs felt shaky as he sat with his face mere inches away from your heat. You eyed him with wide, curious eyes. You’d never felt like this before. Your now unrestrained hands pushed his hair back from his face and he peered up at you as he slid a finger between your folds. You let out a sound comparable to a squeak at the new feeling and he smirked.

“So wet… All for me, hm?” He whispered as he slid a single finger into your tight hole. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a breathy whimper. He laughed when you weren’t able to respond, your innocent nature made him feel dirty and perverted. He was eating it up as he slid in and out of you slowly, getting you used to the feeling. He pushed himself against your legs to keep your knees from buckling when he felt them shake even more, his free hand reached up and fondled your tits and it doubled as a way to keep you standing. His thumb pressed against your clit and he could feel it pulsating, causing another chuckle to leave his swollen lips. “So fucking eager.” He said with his eyes staring deep into yours as he slid a second finger inside of you. A yelp escaped your lips and you squirmed while he pushed his thumb against your clit and fingered you with one hand and rolled your nipple between his fingers with his other hand. You clenched around his fingers and he shushed you gently.

“Breathe, just let me make you feel good. Relax..” He whispered as he kept a slow and steady pace. You took a few breaths through gritted teeth and it made the pleasure feel all that much better as you relaxed around him. “That’s my girl.” He cooed as he circled his thumb around your clit and curved his fingers toward him causing him to push against the sensitive top wall of your pussy. A gasp escaped and you whined his name as he left kisses all over your hip bones. The warmth sent shivers down your back. Anakin removed his thumb when your eyes squeezed shut and you felt something warm and wet replace it on your clit. A louder gasp escaped your lips when you opened your eyes and saw his mouth on your clit and one of your hands gripped his hair tighter while the other flew toward your mouth in shock at the noise you made. He groaned at the feeling of you pulling his hair and the vibrations made another moan leave your mouth, barricaded by your hand.

“No need to be quiet. Nobody’s coming here..” He whispered and you remember he’d locked the door. You dropped your other hand back into his hair as he lapped away at your clit. The taste made him want to absolutely devour you and he tried his best to get as close as he could to doing so. His fingers moved quicker when he felt you begin to clench again and his tongue went from soft, flat licking to quick, pointed flicking.

“Such a pretty pussy..” He whispered into you. You felt something begin to tighten in your stomach and your back arched, causing you to grind on his face and your cheeks reddened when you realized how good it felt. You swung your hips back and forth desperately and whined his name out as you grinded on his face while he licked and finger fucked you. He smiled when he realized you’d never have known you liked to grind on his face without him, it filled him with pride and he felt his cock press against the zipper of his pants making them feel much tighter now.

One last flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers sent you spiraling over the edge, gasping for air and moaning.

“Oh gods, Master.” You exclaimed with a shaky voice between your moans as your body shook with ecstasy. You’d never felt like this before, your eyes screwed shut as you began to see little dots collect in your vision and you felt a little bit of fluid come out of your pussy, soaking his chin and fingers. He growled at the feeling and pulled his fingers out. He reached his hand to your lips as he stood up in front of you and you opened your mouth willingly. “Such a good girl for me.” He whispered as your eyes rolled back at the taste of yourself on him. When you opened your eyes again after collecting yourself you found his pants were already on the floor and he was working on the tedious layers on his top half. He threw his clothes to the side and caged you in against the wall with a grunt. You felt something long raise up between your legs and hit your pussy and you gasped. Your curious gaze found the culprit and you swore your eyes bulged out of your head.

His hands found their way to your thighs and he pulled on them, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms swung around his neck, squeezing as if you’d fall if you let go. He chuckled. “I’m not gonna drop you.” He said in the cocky tone you knew and adored. Your arms loosened and your stomach flipped when you realized it was his strong arms keeping you levitating in front of him. Another groan escaped his lips at the flustered look on your face and you looked at him through your lashes with dazed, drooped eyes. He smirked and removed one hand to pump his cock as it teased your entrance. How could something that big fit inside of me? You thought to yourself as you labored your breathing. He sensed your nerves.

“You’ll be okay. You can take this, I know you can. You’re my best girl.” He cooed into your ear as you felt his tip push against your virgin hole. You bit on your lip and immediately felt his lips push against you gently. You let go and reciprocated the gentle kiss as he soaked himself in your juices for a moment and pushed the head in. You sucked in a sharp breath and your eyes stung. He looked at you. “Just like before, Y/N/N. Relax… You’re such a good girl.. You can take it.” He groaned between his own words at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. You took a few deep breaths as he slowly sheathed himself into you, his hip bones hit yours and he stopped to let you adjust.

“Good girl.. So fucking tight.” He whispered again, encouraging you to relax and you did. You let out a few more deep, shaky breaths and nodded to him, words weren’t exactly a possibility right now. He smiled and pushed his lips against yours to distract you a bit before he started to move slowly. In and out. In and out. His kisses migrated down your chin to your neck and you pushed your head against the wall. Your chest was rising and falling quicker and quicker as the discomfort began to feel like pleasure. You clenched a bit and moaned when it began to feel better, Anakin took that as his signal to pick up the pace. He stroked the inside of your pussy quicker and quicker, moving all the way to his head before pushing back into you. His grip on your hips tightened and he moaned against your neck. Your hands reached for his hair again, he seemed to enjoy when you did that and it gave you something to tether you to this plane of existence.

“You’re doing such a good job at taking my cock.” He moaned and your eyes rolled back into your head again. Your jaw went slack when he adjusted you to be a bit higher and his dick slid against your g-spot. The noises you were emitting were uncontrollable now. Gasps, whimpers and moans all fell through with the occasional, “Oh Master..” thrown in.

“So pretty with my cock in you… Nobody knows you like I do… They never will.” He grunted as he began to thrust with more aggression and desperation than before. He wanted to feel every inch of you, every crevice and every ridge. Your brain mustered up the power to respond. “They never will… I only want you.. I always have.” Your words came out in between gasps. You let out another moan and squirmed when his fingers dig further into the soft skin on your hips.

His free hand moved one of your hands from his hair to your tits and he leaned back to watch you palm and pinch away at them. His eyes darkened and his teeth gnawed down on his lower lip as he watched. The sight itself was enough to make a man cum in his pants. He watched you play and squirm while you moaned his name and he began to fuck you faster. You almost screamed at the feeling, your voice echoed through the bathroom and you didn’t care at all.

You felt a familiar feeling build up in you and you pulled your other hand from his hair to rub your clit the same way he’d shown you. “Look at you.. Doing what I taught you.” He groaned as he continued his rampage on your pussy. The feeling of both your clit and hole being ravaged caused you to arch your back again and this time he hit a spot he hadn’t before. “Oh fuck.” You exclaimed as you rubbed away at your swollen set of nerve endings quicker, desperately trying to pull the orgasm out. He leaned in and began to kiss you with an open mouth, tongues fought and you could taste the sweat from his upper lip. You clenched around his cock as you let out another orgasm and your convulsing pussy sent him over the edge. His strokes got sloppy and his breath came out of his nose in short, repetitive bursts. He soaked your walls with his milk and you moaned at the feeling of your mixed liquids trickling down to your thigh as he slowed down again.

He let your legs fall and his hands moved to your waist as he slipped out of you and your feet hit the ground as a way of steadying you. Your vision was slightly blurred as you both attempted to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours and his hot breath hit your lips. He leaned in for another kiss and this one was gentle and sweet. You moaned softly into it. “So much better than I’d hoped.” He whispered into your mouth and a blush formed on your cheeks again. He handed your clothes to you and you put them on shakily. When you were both dressed he held you close to him, hands gripping your waist with a gentleness that hadn’t been there when he was fucking you.

“They won’t keep us apart again.” He said softly, staring into your eyes and you smiled. “Never.” You responded and placed another kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and brought you closer by the small of your back before pulling away. “They’re probably wondering where we went.” He chuckled and you smiled in response. He gave you one last kiss on your nose before unlocking the door and slipping out of the bathroom. You waited a few minutes, fixing your hair and now non-existent makeup before following his steps toward the dining hall.

The party had gone smoothly and you didn’t catch a break from the girls you were sitting with about being gone so long. You laughed and brushed them off. The three of you walked towards your own dormitories after taking showers and getting ready for bed. “Goodnight, ladies.” You spoke as you closed your door and got comfortable in your bed. You were giddy and your body felt electric as your mind ran through the memories of the night. It hadn’t been more than an hour before you heard your door open and your head turned towards the light creeping in. Anakin slipped in and shut your door behind him, a smirk graced his face as shock blanketed yours.

“Gods, I missed that pretty face.” He spoke as he approached you. You sat up and smiled up at him. It was going to be a long night.

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