#writing this at 1 in the morning & on my phone

[redgoldsparks]

I went all out for Hourly Comics Day 2025! These took between 6-7 hours to draw across three days, and then another at least hour to scan and edit which I wasn't in the mood to do which is why they are a week late lol. Had a wonderful time at Lumacon though and I'm glad I was able to document it! Transcript below the cut :)

insta / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my books / print store / bluesky

Page 1

7:50am: Alarm goes off

Morning phone: check eSIMs, insta, discord, Spanish vocab 

El tiene pelo largo 

Jonathan Van Ness, is that you…?

Drops App 

8am: My friends gave me a delicious new black tea that’s very easy to over steep 

3 minutes seemed too long, but 2:30 was a bit weak… I’ll try 2:45… 

Honestly, I prefer a tea where I can leave the bag in the whole time I drink the cup… 

For the first time in many years I’m actually doing something cool on hourly comics day! Today is Lumacon! This is the show’s 11th year- I think I’ve only missed 1. For the first time, it’s raining on con day!

Page 2

I’m so glad we had another avocado!

This bagel was so chunky I cut it into perfect thirds. Perfection

It’s so rare that I’m awake before my parents… SIP

Should I write about Larrupin sauce? My friend Alina buys this for me up in Humboldt since it’s hard to find… 

Every object/moment suggests a story when I’m paying attention! 

8 to 9am

Page 3 

Pick up Martina! Very cute raincoat (@martinamonster-art )

Chatting and Ateez on the drive 9 to 9:30

OMG why am I drawing cars :( 

LUMACON! 10-11AM 

My newest zine is a recruitment zine for Authors Against Book Bans (AABB). 

I zero in on folks I know to be authors–

Maia: I want you– 

Author: Me? 

Maia: To join AABB! (info zine)

Author: Oh thanks! I will! 

Maia: This zine is so fun to hand out!

Page 4 

Teen: Thank you so much for writing Gender Queen. I gave it to my mom and she credits it for a lot of her understanding. I came out as gender queer a year ago and she said “I love you.” I don’t know if that would have been possible without the book! 

Maia: Thank you for saying that! 

Different teen: I want to buy a copy of your book but I need to make more sales first. 

Maia: Where’s your table? 

Teen: Behind you 

Look. 

I spot some of the cutest round crochet bois I’ve ever seen including a nonbinary bee

Maia: Can I please trade you a book for that bee?! 

Teen: OMG yes! 

You know it’s a good trade when both parties think they got the better deal! 

12pm 

Page 5

I check in with Anna (@thebeanbaguette) 1pm 

Maia: How’s the con so far? 

Anna: Really good! I love how many furries are here! 

Maia: Oh yeah it’s fun

Maia: I had never seen the skull fursuit head before this show… for the size event it’s impressive furry turn out 

Cute goth/pastel couple 

Anna: To be honest, I’d love to get a fursuit head one day… and the hands! 

Anna: But I don’t know what animal…

(Table is covered in cute rats)

Later, another friend comments 

Cynthia: So many furries here! 

Maia: Yes, the per capita is very high… sign of a healthy ecosystem! 

(we all wore masks all day I just forgot to draw them) 

Page 6 

My friend Nic comes to visit & cover my table during my lunch break- 2pm

Nic: Don’t worry I’ll do my best impersonation of you! I’ll even sign books with your name!

Maia: Okay, great, thanks!

Maia: (Has not had water, snack or bathroom break in 6 hours)

Later we chat with Gio, another friend about knowing when a story is done

Maia: I had a publisher reject a pitch basically saying “this isn’t fully baked yet” which… was true. 

Nic: Unfortunately I’m doing that to myself! I’m on the 4th draft of this short story that just needs to be done. 

Gio: But when it’s a personal project how do you know? 

Gio: When it’s my own work, no deadline, no editor, it’s tempting to just keep putting it back in the oven. But at what point are you like, I’m making crackers. I thought it was bread but it turned into crackers! 

Page 7

3-4pm last hour of the con

My parents came! My Taekwondo teacher came! A trans teen who came to my first Gender Queer event in 2019 came! I saw so many friends & my heart is full! Thank you Luma! 

4:30

Maia: I think I’m ready to go…

Table: EMPTY

Martina: Me too! 

Maia & Martina: LOOK 

Anna- nothing packed, stuff fully out

Anna: Haha, you go! I pack slowly! 

In the parking lot & rain 

Maia: I’m really glad you came! 

Martina: Thanks for talking me into it! 

Martina: You’ve been manifesting this since September! 

Maia: Haha yes, 

(I talked both Martina & Anna into applying for this show; Martina’s first zinefest table! 

Page 8

5pm I drive home 

after all the rain, the ditches & fields are flooded 

Maia (texting): I just got home

Anna (texting): I haven’t left the venue yet

Page 9

6pm I should be unpacking but I’m lying in bed looking at my phone! 

Maia: Wow so many hourlies! I haven’t even started! I’d rather read them on tumblr & patreon later. How is my finch doing? 

Nic incepted our entire friend group into the finch app back in January. I’m pretty hooked. In the finch app you make a little bird persona who travels the world & gains experiences. You give it energy & earn points by crossing items off your to do list & completing self care tasks like stretching or drinking water. 

Maia: To be honest, I don’t really need an app to help me do tasks. But look how cute my bird is!!! Also! You can get pets for your bird! I have five! Owl, seal, caribou, ball of fluff, cow

Later, I pet my real cat. 

Maia: Don’t worry you are my actual favorite pet. 

Page 10 

7pm: Dinner with my parents. Big salad, fried tofu. We talk about clay deposits in odd places. 

My dad: There’s that Bentonite clay at Shell Beach! That’s the kind you want for poison oak rashes. 

My mom: And the deposit at school by the office, some teachers have kids use that for crafts. 

8pm: Formatting my January book reviews

I really like the monthly wrap-ups that Storygraph generates. 

Books: 11 Pages: 2855 Average Rating: 3.91

LGBTQIA: 5 Fantasy: 4 Comic: 4 Contemporary: 3 Romance: 3

9pm: I fall into the trap of looking at the news which I’ve avoided all day. Escape to tumblr where I discover some amazing Ranma ½ fanart. Should I reread it? 

10-12am: I draw the first 4 pages of these comics then go to bed! 

In total, drawing these takes 6 or 7 hours across 3 days. -Maia Kobabe 2025 

[bettystonewell]

So I woke up to 100 followers this morning, and I was really surprised.

THANK YOU!

I’m still learning my way here, but hopefully I’m getting better.

I know people on all different platforms do celebrations like writing prompts and stuff, but a) I’m a slow writer and b) I’m lazy. So I thought, now might be a good time to release this:

TO YOU I BELONG

SNEAK PEAK

Chapter 1 coming 21/02 🇦🇺⏱️

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

From Chapter 7: Honeydaying

Sitting on the edge of his bed, hunched over, arms leaning on his thighs, Dean twisted the small pill bottle in his hands, listening as each tablet fell to the bottom. There weren’t many, six at most, and they rattled around in there, waiting for him to open the lid and take one out.

Or man up and throw them in the trash like he’d planned.

The problem was, he knew how his body would react to not taking the daily suppressant. He’d experienced it before. And if his inner alpha was overprotective of you now, it was about to turn into a possessive dick the second the drug’s effects wore off in T minus twenty-four hours, if he…

No.

Not if.

He was doing this. He was gonna claim you and make you his.

Which is why even though the trashcan was only three feet in front of him, he still sat there unmoving from the memory-foam cushioning his ass…

Fuck. Why was this so hard?

He put the pills down on his bedside table and leant back into the mattress, fishing his phone out from his jean pocket. The denim hugging his hips was too tight, and he had to lift himself up a few inches to yank the device free, unlocking it with a couple of taps and a swipe up.

His fingers continued to work the touch screen, locating contacts, flicking down to the letter J, and hitting the green call button. At least there was one thing he wasn’t hesitating over.

He heard the click and a familiar voice fondly speak his name before he’d even brought it up to his ear.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Hey, Jody. How’s it going?” Dean stood up off the bed and moved to the closet.

“Good. Although I’m a little surprised to hear you ask me that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The door creaked in protest, as did his back, though it cracked more than creaked when he arched over to reach his green duffle he’d thrown on the floor after the hunt in Iowa. The couple of weapons he hadn’t bothered to put away hit against each other as the bag swayed and gravity played with their weight.

“Just that you don’t call me unless you need something or someone’s dead. Oh god. Is Sam okay? What have you boys gotten into now?”

“Alright, first off, that’s insulting.” He emptied the contents onto the bed, pulling out a shirt that had wound its way around his shotgun. “And second.” He brought the fabric up to his nose for a sniff test. It needed washing, or burning with added salt. The remnants of nameless monster guts clung to the collar, and he didn’t hesitate to throw it out. Those pills though... “Everything’s fine. Sammy’s alive last time I checked.

“I wanted to know how you were. What’s wrong with that?” He caught the phone between his neck and shoulder, freeing his hands up to open the chamber of his prized weapon. The racking was rather loud when he closed it back again, and he grimaced. Jody was going to notice that.

“Nothing,” she said. “But that’s not why you’re calling.”

Why did he attract people who could see right through him? “Well, ah, to be honest, I need a favour.” He took a long breath in, preparing himself to deliver his news. “I met my soulmate and—”

“What?” Her high-pitched squeal had him dropping his shoulder and her. “Are you sure?”

Seriously! It’s like she was trying to cut him deep. “What do you mean, am I sure? I know my own damn initials,” he shouted down at his phone. Luckily, it had only landed on the bed. He did not have the patience or time to get a new one.

He ditched the shotgun and picked up Jody, bringing her back to his ear.

“So you’re no longer running solo, huh? Finally claimed someone! What are they? An omega, a beta? Or another alpha like you?” She chuckled. “I’d love to see that.”

‘Bitch.’

‘Dude. This is Jody.’

‘She’s insulting our mate.’

‘No, she’s insulting you, you dick.’

“Ah, an omega, and I haven’t claimed her yet,” Dean said, cringing when his inner alpha interrupted him again. His eyes searched for the pill bottle and gave it a once over. No, no. This was gonna be hell, but he’d grin and bear it. “That’s why I was calling—”

Main Masterlist

—————————————————————

DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007

If you’d like to be added to a Taglist for this series or for anything Dean, please lmk by commenting, ask, DM or I’ve created a Google form HERE

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Featured Fic Friday!

Welcome to Featured Fic Friday! A day where I, or someone who suggests one, tell you about a fanfic that I really enjoy! Spoiler's under the cut! Today's featured fic is...

Play with Me by grimrester (Explicit, Incomplete)

When you decide to pursue your childhood dream of running an arcade, the developing monster city at the top of Mount Ebott seems like an obvious choice to set up shop. The community is growing quickly, you'd have very little competition, and commercial renting space is dirt cheap. The only problem is you've never run a business by yourself before, and you're not very good with numbers. When you find a monster accountant advertising his services online, you jump at the chance to work with him. The skeleton seems formal, professional, and detached, which is just fine by you. Who needs the distractions of friendships and relationships when you've got a business to run?

A bit of a longer fic that unfortunately has not yet been completed, I found myself distracted from answering an ask due to becoming absorbed in reading this fic!

I was pleasantly surprised to find myself enjoying it the more I read, as I thought the premise was interesting!

I've said it before, & I'll likely say it again, but I'm not the biggest reader of, well, x readers, & Swapfell Sans has never really stuck out to me. However, I couldn't stop reading until I reached the last part that was uploaded, aside from a quick break to finish answering the ask this fic was for.

While it hasn't been updated recently, I would say that where it left off doesn't leave too many questions unanswered, though admittedly I'm not the type of person to think too hard about what I'm reading usually.

Spoilers ahead!

I love the way that the author goes about sex between the reader & Sans, especially since they don't give him the ability to form an ecto body, which is usually how most authors get around the issue of skeletons not having the proper parts to have intercourse!

Of course, reading smut is not everybody's particular cup of tea, so I'll also say that I really enjoy the headcanons the author includes! Specifically the bit about what collars & necklaces symbolize in monster culture, but, as I implied previously, I'm not the most well versed in Swapfell lore, so perhaps this is a bit of it's canon that I'm simply unaware of. Regardless, I think it's really cute!

[writingboutbrainrot]

All of Me Loaves All of You [ch2]

[ch0 | NOW ON A03]

Today was the big day. Louise was woken up way too early for her taste, 6 a.m., to go to the wedding venue. To save on costs the whole thing was very DIY - aside from renting a ballroom and hiring a caterer, no way was Bob Belcher catering at his own daughter’s reception and missing out on the important stuff. Besides, he still hated catering. 

So Louise had to be up at the buttcrack of dawn to go and help make sure everything was perfect. Which of course she was the perfect person for the overseeing of...just not for another few hours. Or at least 5 or so shots of espresso. Which she halfway downed on the drive with her parents and Gene.

Zeke’s cousin Leslie was already unfolding chairs outside when the Belchers arrived, a gaggle of children running around and not really helping. Who was helping though was a very tired looking blonde. Louise grimaced as Logan spun around, swinging a chair like Leatherface as he tried to not hit any of the children dashing about. He was very off balance and Louise sipped her caffeine and hoped she’d see him fall. Maybe he’d twist his ankle and someone else would have to stand it as best man. Leslie would be a suitable choice, he could even dance.

No such luck. Brown eyes squinted as the man righted himself and managed to set the chair down without incident. They then looked down at her just as dark coffee as the blonde started walking over with one of those smarmy little smirks of his.

“You gonna help with the labor or just stare at the workers?” he chided, arms crossed and that left brow of his raised so high Louise thought it may get lost in his bangs. Not bangs she could hide under like an umbrella if it rained, but a jungle that her fingers would probably get ensnared in if she- 

She blinked. Then she scoffed. “Unlike yooou, I have the all important job of making sure the bride doesn’t lose her shit. This means that I don’t have to do manual labor, thank you very much.”

Logan rolled his eyes and huffed a little, but then he motioned to the building. “Bride-not-zilla is in there with Susmita already.” He looked like he was about to say something else, but Louise spoke first,

“Great well you keep doing a mediocre job out here and I’m gonna go crush it in the dressing room.” 

She pushed past him, a little bit of coffee splashing his shirt and giving a “ha!” when he called out her name in an accusing whine. 

Dodging way too rambunctious children, Louise crossed the lawn and the ballroom. Then she cracked the door open for a decency check before sliding in. Linda had beelined when they arrived and was flitting about while Susmita handed a robed Tina a thermos.

“Bit early for vodka ain’t it?” Louise cracked. Her sister gave a sleepy glare. She shrugged and muttered, “Tough crowd,” and went to the pile of bags. She and her mom had put their stuff in the same bag and now was the time for Louise to dig around. They had a couple of hours before they were needed for the photoshoots, but Louise knew if she wanted to avoid manual labor she should get ready asap.

“Louise don’t you wanna lounge for a bit in the fancy robes?” Linda asked, waving a fluffy pink robe around. The question stopped Louise in her tracks. She stared at the cloth in question as it beckoned like a siren. If she put that on then not only would she not be forced out of the room, but she also wouldn’t have to use any effort to make herself up much earlier than she needed.

“Yes Mother, I would like to lounge in the fancy robes, thank you.” Louise agreed while putting down the bag. She took the robe from her mom and slid it over her pj’s. The microfiber fleece lulled her into a sense of security. How can Tina be grumpy in this?! she wondered for a moment. But then she remembered how little sleep everyone had gotten.

“Alright so. What’s the game plan Sus?” She decided it was going to be much better directing all inquiries to the bride’s maid who had it all together.

-x-x-x-

An hour of sitting around later and Louise found herself growing….bored. She was currently hanging upside down on the settee, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. Her coffee was gone and replaced with a mimosa flute. Which she was nursing because she felt like 8 am was too early for alcohol but Linda was still always ready to get a party started.

“Besides, Louise, a mimosa is a morning drink. It’s perfectly acceptable,” the older woman insisted while lifting her own flute up.

“It’s a brunch drink, Mom,” she countered with a smile. “Brunch starts at 11, 10 if you’re being generous.”

“9 am if you’re in the Philippines,” Susmita chimed in without looking away from her tablet. Louise heard a Level Up come from the device and caught Susmita grin.

Linda let out a tchk. “Ahhhh you girls and your cement-ticks.”

“Semantics, Mom,” Tina joined in. Her tea was finally kicking in, she still wasn’t allowed to have coffee after that whole espresso episode she had as a teen.

“What did I say?”

“Nevermind, Mrs. Belcher. Hey, do you know when Gretchen will be here?” Susmita asked, expertly redirecting the subject. Louise admired that. It was nice to have someone else who could handle the family.

And like magic, the door opened to reveal….Tammy and Jocelyn. Louise groaned the smallest amount. The two may have grown up over the years, and sure Louise and Tammy have had their fair share of “same wavelength” moments but... 

“Tinaaa, girl we’re heereee!” Tammy exclaimed with way too much energy for 8 in the morning. She made a type of shrill sound that Louise wasn’t sure she could describe. “I can’t believe you’re getting married today!”

“Yeaah you’re, like, making it so official today,” Jocelyn added in the same lilted monotone she’s always had. Her head turned to the minibar next. “Ooo is that orange juice?”

Some things don’t change and it was just too early. So Louise took this as her cue to stop hiding inside and flipped herself off the settee. “Whelp looks like you’ve got enough people to hold down the fort in here T, I’m gonna make sure everything’s going smooth on the battlefield,” she announced while straightening out her robe.

Before Tina could protest, Louise gave her older sister a quick kiss to the top of her head which was graciously washed this morning, and headed out the door with her mimosa in hand.

She didn’t immediately regret it, even if she had to quickly dodge a gaggle of scamps rushing by. But she did so without spilling mimosa, so that was a win. Smirking to herself, she noticed Gene shuffling by.

“Yo Gene, where’s the fire?” she called, already heading toward them. 

The middle Belcher looked around without stopping. “Oh Louise!” They gave an appraising up and down glance before pointing. “I do hope that I have a robe waiting for me in either dressing room.” When Louise just raised her eyebrow, they shrugged and turned back to watch where they were going. “The fire’s at Alex’s van. Not a real fire, this time, just that the equipment is there and it needs to be-” they flailed an arm in the general direction of the building, “there.”

Louise now regretted coming outside. Or at least regretted blindly following her sibling. Carrying equipment while holding a drink was going to be way more work than she planned on doing.

“Bob why don’t you trade m-” a voice grabbed Louise’s attention, shaking her from her musings. Not that she’d admit just whose voice did that. A little ways in front of them Bob was at a wizard painted van with Alex and Logan, waving the blonde away with one arm and clutching something that looked hefty in the other.

“I got it, Logan, don’t-” pause for straining noise, “don’t worry about it.”

Gene and Louise shared an eye roll and hurried a little faster to the group. Louise shouted out, “Dad come on you’re one wrong breath away from dying at any moment, let the middle aged guy throw out his back instead.”

Close enough now, Louise could see Logan huff and roll his eyes. “I’m not even 30, Four Ears.”

“And?” she quipped back, not having any real backup. Which she cleverly hid with a sip of her drink. Seeming to pick his battles, Logan just shook his head. Louise thought she saw the corner of his lips tug up. But that’s something neither of them would admit.

Turning her attention back to her elderly father, Louise tutted. “For real, Dad, let someone else get that. I’ll trade you,” she said while holding out her half empty flute. The fast action caught the patriarch off guard and he precariously handed the cargo over in exchange. Louise finished the transaction by taking a careful step towards Logan. 

“And now you take this,” she chimed while lifting the luggage by the handle. When the almost-30 year old took it without a second thought Louise prided herself on not cackling right away. The double take he did when he realized what happened caused her to burst, however.

Of course she had expertly weaseled her way into carrying the smallest thing there was. “You were really going to make the father of the bride carry a cd case? You monster,” she teased. 

Logan let out a single bark of a laugh. “You should’ve been out here earlier when I handed him the extension cord.” The twinkle in his eye as Louise reached for imaginary pearls was not to be missed. And Louise thought she caught that too. “This is the last of it though. So classic Louise-timing.”

“Pssh, it’s an art, really,” the young woman boasted. She tried to block out Gene and Alex behind them. But when your sibling only knows stage whisper as a lowest setting that was difficult, especially when that skill is extended to their platonic soulmate.

It was Alex who spoke the question, “Do you think we’re going to perform at their wedding soon?” 

And Gene who answered, “Not for another 7 years.”

“Right, right. In their 30’s,” Alex concluded, referring back to Gene’s ancient prophecy. 

For the millionth time in 3 hours, Louise rolled her eyes. Gene said a lot of things off the cuff, and that was just one of those things. Her sibling was not a prophet, and she was never going to reconnect and marry Logan Barry Bush in her 30’s. For one thing, they had already reconnected now, before Louise’s 20’s. So that was already not going well in Gene’s favor. 

Still, she cast a quick glance at Logan and noticed that his face was just the slightest shade of pink. An impish smile took her face.

“I don’t know Logan, I think we should see if Hall and Oates would get back together for us. If they’re still alive in 7 years that is,” she said a little louder than normal. The blonde had the briefest moment of confusion before that rusty gear in his brain clicked over.

“Awh but I was really looking forward to Beyonce,” he pouted.

“I don’t think we’d be able to afford her baby,” she consoled. Cue the indignant gasps from the peanut gallery in the back, and a confused noise from Bob up front. Choosing to leave the former suffering, Louise called out to the latter, “Nothing, Pops!” Then shared a snicker with Logan.

And that really helped pass the steps back to the main area. Thankfully because Louise was thinking that she needed a refill-osa after that. God maybe I am turning into Mom a little. 

“So has anyone checked on Zeke?” she asked, setting down the cd case and opening the door to the building. Gene went right on past her, presumably to cash in on their own pink fuzzy robe. Without answering, so she assumed that was a “no”. So she looked directly at Logan.

“Yeah I’ve been checking in between tasks. He’s got the rest of the party in there with him for company.”

Satisfied with the answer, Louise gave a nod and went inside. Sure enough, Gene was walking out of the “girl’s room” in a fluffy pink robe and two flutes of whatever concoction they made. Louise knew one was non alcoholic for Alex, so it was probably just orange juice and Spryt. The two passed with a nod. However Gene paused and caught Louise’s attention.

“You’re not really gonna hire someone else to do music for your wedding, are you?”

The youngest Belcher sighed with a smile. “Of course not. If I ever get married you’re the first person I’m hiring. Third person I call. If I don’t dual-call Tina and Millie first I’m pretty sure they’d materialize and murder me.”

Gene laughed and gave a thoughtful, “That does sound like them.” Then they were out the door and waving one of the flutes around, splashing the contents everywhere. Louise chuckled and re-entered the bridal world once more.

Before she knew it, it was wedding time.

[ ch3]

[olenvasynyt]

Whenever I sit down at the computer and open up my writing, I struggle to come up with barely 3 sentences on a chapter I’ve been working on for ages. But when it’s 12:30 and I’m trying to go to bed, I have no trouble writing 400 words on my notes app about the scene my brain just came up with.

Me at 1 am, writing on my notes app without my glasses on

[raininyourblackeyes]

My cousin, a published writer, a well-known poet in my country and a literature professor, for whom I've always been no.1 support ever since her first attempts at writing in high school, told me that I must stop writing as a hobby because that's her thing and since I'm writing fantasy mostly my writing could never have any important artistic value anyways.

[love-songs-for-emma]

they say that "time heals all wounds" but i honestly think that upping my anti-depressants has done more for me

[chiistarri]

what if instead of messaging me in the middle of the night about your stupid fucking girlfriend and your stupid fucking problems with her you actually act like my fucking friend and message me like how you message everyone else in our group

[eddsworldstuck]

i am once again jumping around in writing and wrote part of a chapter in act 3 while writing more of A1C1

and i am not okay

it was very cathartic tho

...i wrote it at 2 in the morning

on my phone

...do i need to mention again that this AU was revived to be a representation of my grief and help me process it, after playing both persona 3 portable and reload made me think about its core theme quite a bit?

anyway have this doodle from last month from my doodle psd cause it's cute and to offset the sadness (guidesprite duo cause they both merged with their guidesprite when ascending)

also the height difference is pretty accurate (heightcomparison.com)

[h1ghergirl]

how i shifted 4+ times in one night

So I wanna say this happened like a week ago and that night I was up on my phone writing down some limiting beliefs I had and replaced them with new ones and had made it into a new phrase for myself to affirm:

That night i looped that last phrase (highlighted in blue) over and over again.

I was laying in my bed, eyes closed but I was very cold. The covers were not on me but i really wanted to cover myself with it. I then thought “why not shift to a reality where the covers are on me.”

So i literally just visualised myself with the covers and said “The covers are on me”… and it happened so fast. I opened my eyes and the covers were on me. I shifted back and was kinda shocked but also very happy. I decided to sleep and I woke up shortly after that with the blanket on me again. That night I kept shifting to an alternate cr with the blanket on me.

It didn’t really hit me until I woke up that morning that I shifted that amount of times in one night, and how extremely simple it is.

I think when I become aware of the fact that I was a master shifter and looped that (esp since i was very tired which makes the subconscious very open to suggestion) it influenced how I was able to shift sm that night.

All you need to do is

1. If you have a lot of limiting beliefs, eliminate them and replace them with new and positive beliefs.

2. Align yourself to a dr

3. Persist that you are there.

4. Done. you can shift.

It really is that simple babe! You are the creator of your reality and you decide what goes, not some shifting video you saw on tiktok or on tumblr etc. Become aware of the fact that you are a master shifter and just persist in that.

[marsmaximoff]

🦑 hwang jun-ho; headcanons 〇△□

content warning: gn!reader. fluff. mentions of death, coma and jealousy. pet names. no season 2 spoilers. let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 941

author’s note: well, my man is back, and i had to write some headcanons for him. the OBSESSION that i had back in 2021 needs to be studied, omg. anyway, as always, constructive criticism is welcomed, english is my third language, so i apologize for any mistakes. in case i don’t post anything else this year, happy 2025 everybody!! enjoy! 🩷

divider by @k1ssyoursister

〇 pre-games

best. boyfriend. ever.

that’s it, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

🙃🙃🙃

his love languages are:

1) quality time

he may be a police detective, but he ALWAYS tries to make time for you 

and see you every day, and if he can’t, he’ll save some minutes to call you

loves to hear about your day

big on communication, that’s key on your relationship 

type of boyfriend that picks you up after work, or anything really

he just wants to see your cute face :3

takes you out on cool dates

to the park, to eat, to cute animal cafés

he’s okay with staying in too, just cuddling, talking, watching something….

and 2) acts of service 

will drive you anywhere you need

you get ‘good morning/night’ texts every single day you’re not together

makes you breakfast 

and has no problem with cooking for you

opens doors for you 

pulls out the chair at the restaurant ☝🏻

he’ll simply do anything you need

loves coming home to you, it doesn't matter how shitty or overwhelming his day was, you just put a smile on his face

his favorite thing to do with you is eating

it may sound boring, but he loves to see you taking care of yourself, well-fed and happy

takes you to meet his family

his mom loves you

even his brother likes you

he’s a tease and enjoys seeing you all flustered

i feel like he’d be the type to have many pics of you on his phone that he goes back to whenever he misses you

you’re probably his wallpaper, perhaps even on his wallet too 🤭

some pet names like: “honey”, “love”, “beautiful”, “cutie”

would never cheat

a guard dog

not super jealous -a bit tho- but won't hesitate to step up if someone acts stupid 

(picture that one scene in season 2 when that man mocked him and didn’t believe he was an actual police detective hehe)

shows you off 🤩

checks you out :p

his hand is on you in some way when you’re out

has good emotional intelligence

big spoon

reminds you to take your make up off before bed if you wear any -he may even do it himself if you're too tired

or to take meds

he is just really caring and supportive

doesn't like seeing you worried or anxious because of his job

absolutely hates to see you suffer

doesn’t mind that you may be struggling financially, it won’t change what he feels

will help you with whatever it is

just don’t hide it, he hates secrets and lies

i hate doing it, but there always has to be some 🚩 

he’s the first one that would do it (lying and hiding stuff) to ensure you’re okay and don’t get worried

on a particularly overwhelming day, he will raise his voice at you

can get really overprotective 

some days you may not hear from him, or at least not much

will sometimes struggle to open up about his issues or what’s upsetting him

△ during the games

after your sudden disappearance, worry and fear ate him up

while checking your house he found a weird card

and once he discovered the exact same one at his brother’s, he knew something was going on

heard gi-hun at the police station rambling about some weird symbols and immediately recognized the design

interrogated him about you, desperate to know about your whereabouts 

as soon as he successfully infiltrated the games, he began your search

almost had a heart attack when he spotted you

had to make the effort of his life to stay calm and not run to you

would somehow manage to get you two alone so he can get you out of there (i wrote about this)

almost gets caught

feels betrayed you didn’t tell him and quite angry you’d risk your own life like this

but mostly relieved you’re okay (and still alive)

watches you like a hawk from the distance, ensuring your safety

constantly around, you continuously sense his presence close by 

□ post-games (you died)

had to see your death and practically went numb

blurry vision, ringing in his ears, shortness of breath, sting in his throat

the worst thing tho, was finding out his brother had been behind everything

how could he have done this to you? you trusted him! 

feels completely disgusted

after his coma, he blames himself for everything

your name was his first word after waking up

dreams about you 

gets you a cenotaph given that your body will forever remain strayed

nevertheless, he still talks to you like you’re there

tells you about his recovery and his progress finding the island

you are his strongest motivation

he’s doing this for you, to provide the love of his life a much deserving peaceful rest

gets you new flowers every few days

he’ll never stop feeling guilty

〇 post-games (you survived)

has nightmares he failed and left you to meet your demise on those cursed games

always there when you have them, and so is his shoulder if you need to cry

reassurance king

hides the identity of his attacker from you

becomes even more overprotective

shared location on at all times

gets paranoid if you don’t text him all day

he swore to never miss a single detail of your possible struggles. not again

you can still tell he holds himself responsible for your time on that island

stays awake at night just watching you sleep safe and sound (will never say it tho)

babies you

bigger spoon

doesn’t let you go out on your own if it’s late, afraid that something may happen and those psychopaths will reach you again

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - one (j.yh)

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you've never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he's so much more than a crush, he's your soulmate. one | two (section 1) (section 2) | three | four | five 🔗read on ao3✨ across stardust pinterest board

note: please enjoy this truly self indulgent romance. will be four five 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.

[okaylikeschaewon]

Return

10k words, TPM Series Part 1, smut, Series Masterlist

There are days where everything just feels right and nothing can really dampen your spirits. When the sun shines just a little bit brighter and the air feels just a little bit cleaner. Today, unfortunately, was probably not one of those days. No, it definitely was not one of those days. That rock in your stomach weighing you down was all the confirmation you needed.

In a world where laughter echoed like music, Twice stood as a beacon of joy, their vibrant energy could light up every room they entered and every stage they took. Those infectious smiles that brought fans from across the globe together, a reflection of the bond Twice themselves maintained amongst each other - the perfect show of leading by example. Each individual member was like a fun little musical note, and the beauty was how they all came together to become a symphony of love, resonating far beyond the stage deep into the hearts of their fans.

Yet, none of that was present this morning. The air in the conference room was thick with an unspoken tension, each heartbeat echoing like a countdown. Sana, Nayeon, and Momo sat together, faces full of axiomatic unease. Sana fiddled with the hem of her shirt, eyes darting to the door every few seconds as if the solution to her worries were waiting to knock. Nayeon, attempting to maintain a facade of calmness, drummed her fingers nervously against the table. And Momo’s eyes darted around the room, unable to settle.

Isolated from the other three, Dahyun sat by the window - her usual bright demeanor dimmed, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. You walked across the room, taking a seat next to her in silence. She turned to you, acknowledging your existence with a nod before turning her attention back to the gentle raindrops spilling down the glass.

“I just don’t understand why they're taking so long,” Momo broke the silence, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

The question lingered, met by more silence as the girls exchanged glances. Their eyes felt fragile and the stakes seemed higher than ever. That bond they had built over the years felt more delicate than ever in this moment.

“Like I said earlier,” you replied softly. “None of them have said no as far as I know, they’re simply negotiating terms.”

“What happens if they don’t sign?” Sana added quietly.

“Hey,” Nayeon shuffled her chair closer to Sana, tilting her head slightly, her voice a soothing melody amidst the tension. “Whether or not they sign doesn’t change anything, but they’ll sign.”

Sana looked up, meeting Nayeon’s warm gaze. “But what if…”

“Let’s not play the ‘what if’ game,” Nayeon interrupted her with a reassuring smile. “It’s not like we haven’t faced challenges before, we’ll get through this one just like always. As Twice.”

“They’ll sign,” Momo added with confidence.

A half-hearted smile was all Sana could muster as Nayeon leaned forward in her chair, wrapping her arms around her. You stood up from your own chair and bent over, planting a gentle kiss on Dahyun’s forehead as she remained fixated on the window. You walked towards the door, pausing only to give Momo a quick and reassuring hug, silently informing her that everything was going to be alright.

“I’m going to get some updates,” you stated as you opened the door. “I’m almost certain everyone is going to sign, I’m just going to see how the negotiations are going.”

Nayeon flashed you an encouraging smile before picking her phone up off the table and distracting herself.

—

“Come in.”

Inside, in far better spirits than the previous room, sat Jihyo smiling up at you.

“Good news?”

“Great news,” Jihyo replied cheerily. “They’re basically giving me everything I wanted, they’ve even agreed to expedite the boring logistic stuff for my solo.”

“That’s great,” you smiled back. “They’re writing up the new contract with your lawyer I assume?”

“Yup, I even made sure to add some amendments to the others’, basically giving anyone who signs some more power.”

“All these years as the official leader has really instilled the values in you hasn’t it?” you chuckled. “Speaking of which, if you’re done with the negotiations, do you mind heading back to the main room and trying to cheer them up a bit? I’ve tried but…”

“I understand,” Jihyo nodded, standing up and walking over with a prominent spring in her step. “I’ve only spoken with Mina and Chae so far, I’m fairly certain those two are signing. Actually, I’m pretty sure everyone is signing from what they’ve told me before.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking as well, Chaeyoung just wants more freedom and I can’t imagine they’d have an issue with that,” you agreed, holding the door open for Jihyo. “Even though it’s mostly a formality at this stage though, I can’t help but feel a tiny bit nervous.”

“That’s fair, I am too,” Jihyo replied, for the first time showing a hint of unease. "You'll let us know what the others say as soon as you find out?”

“Of course, thank you Jihyo,” you answered before leaving her to make your way to the next room. 

As you waited patiently for the elevator, the doors opened and you were met with Chaeyoung stepping out while happily sipping on what you could only assume was an iced Americano. “Done with negotiations?” you questioned the unbothered girl.

“Yup,” Chaeyoung replied casually. “I’m free!”

Your heart sank.

“Not like that, I mean free from signing stuff,” she quickly explained after seeing your expression. “They agreed to give me full freedom.”

“Oh,” you sighed, your pulse quickly dropping back to normal as you took a couple of deep breaths. You paused, the curiosity weighing on you as your brain was working at half speed. “What does full freedom mean exactly?”

“Basically everything! Tattoos, piercings, boys, whatever I want,” she answered happily.

“Boys?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” she smirked before leaning closer to you and whispering into your ear. “Until I find a boyfriend, you’ll still be fucking my tight ass.”

“Jesus,” you laughed, giving her a little playful spank. “Well shit, keep me updated on that, yeah?”

“I guess now that technically it’s allowed, I’ll tell you something, but you can’t tell any other staff,” Chaeyoung continued before taking a drawn-out sip. “I’ve actually been talking to a couple of guys already.”

“Couple of guys? Imagine the headlines,” you teased. “Twice’s Chaeyoung confirms having a roster.”

“Oh stop it,” she hit your shoulder. “None of them are serious - well, except maybe one - we’ve just been messaging casually.”

“Yeah? Anything promising?”

“I think there might be? He’s actually in the industry,” she answered. “He reached out to me, but I’ll tell you more later, I’m still not entirely sure about it.”

“No rush, that’s your business, you already know I’ll be here for you regardless.”

“Thank you,” Chaeyoung smiled warmly. “Do you know where the others are waiting? I know they’ve been losing their minds unnecessarily, I wanna tell them to relax.”

After telling her where they were waiting, you gave her a quick hug goodbye and entered the elevator, continuing your journey to the next room. It wasn’t easy to explain, but you had a feeling this one wouldn’t be as cheery as the previous two, that this might actually be one of the trickier situations where your worry was stemming from. As you approached the door, you gave it a gentle knock just to be given no response.

About a minute passed before you gave another gentle knock. Again, no response, so this time you cautiously opened the door slightly. You peered into the room and saw Jeongyeon having what looked like a passionate argument with a lady who you assumed was her lawyer.

“I thought I made myself clear when I said I’ll come get you when we’re ready to keep discussing terms,” the lawyer hissed once she noticed you.

“It’s fine, he’s my manager,” Jeongyeon explained, making eye contact with you. “I’d actually like to speak to him in private, please.”

“You really shouldn’t be talking to anyone from the company without me being present right now.”

“I’ll be alright, trust me,” Jeongyeon reassured her. “Please.”

The lawyer looked more frustrated than ever, but eventually after seeing Jeongyeon’s persistence, she sighed and stood up. “Five minutes, then I’m coming back and we’re finishing this conversation.”

“Thank you,” Jeongyeon replied as the lawyer left the room, leaving just the two of you alone.

The room felt heavy with unspoken words as you sat down in front of Jeongyeon. She sat on the edge of her chair, her hands nervously folding the corners of the papers in front of her.

“Jeongyeon,” you began softly. “How are you holding up?”

She looked up, her eyes reflecting a mix of uncertainty and frustration with a hint of exhaustion. “I don’t know. I’m just… I’m not sure if renewing is the right choice for me.”

Slowly, you leaned forward in your chair. “Why are you hesitant?” you asked delicately, realizing this would be a very straight-to-the-point type of conversation.

Jeongyeon sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I… sometimes I just feel like there’s this weird weight on my shoulders, you know?” she began. “Like this stupid pressure to just always be perfect, always be happy, I just don’t know if I can keep that up.”

“I get that,” you replied. “As an idol it probably feels like the entire world is expecting you to - like you said - be perfect. But you don’t have to be, you’re allowed to be unsure just like everyone else.”

“But what if I’m holding everyone back?” Jeongyeon’s usual bravado breaking slightly as her voice trembled. “This would be my opportunity to step away, to stop being a burden.”

“You’re not holding anyone back, you’re part of a team. They need you just as much as you need them,” you reassured her. “And that doesn’t mean you have to renew.”

She leaned back in her chair, seemingly frustrated with the universe. “I just wish I could see the future, I’m kinda scared of making a decision that I’ll regret.”

“That’s understandable, but do you find yourself regretting your past choices?”

“Well,” Jeongyeon hesitated. “I mean, sometimes, but usually no.”

“Ah-”

“I just mean that there have been times where I’ve done things to… fit in… things that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise done,” Jeongyeon explained. “I just want to be like the others in that regard.”

“You don’t have to be someone who you don’t want to be, no one will hold it against you.”

“I know you’re right, but I just find myself worrying about it sometimes.”

“All we can do is take one step at a time, no one can know how things will turn out,” you replied, offering her a comforting smile. “Whatever you decide, I promise you they’re going to all support your decision.”

She took some time to think about what you said, seemingly taking it into very serious consideration. Or perhaps she was beginning to doubt herself? It was hard to say what exactly was bothering her the most, but all you could do was be patient - she had to make this decision on her own.

“You’re probably right,” she sighed eventually. “I think I’m going to do it.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Sorry, just to be clear…”

“I’m going to renew,” she answered your unasked question. “But my lawyer is probably going to make sure my new contract doesn’t lock me into anything. We were talking about having the final choice when it comes to schedules.”

“I think the company will be more than happy to comply, that’s not asking for too much.”

“Thank you for this,” Jeongyeon said quietly under her breath. “I feel like sometimes I understand what you’re saying without you even saying it.”

“I’m glad I could help, that’s my job after all,” you smiled, standing up from your chair. “But I’m going to get out of here before that scary lady comes back and yells at me.”

“She’s not that bad,” Jeongyeon chuckled.

—

“Two left,” you whispered under your breath, feeling a bit better about the remaining members

“Come in,” that beautifully delicate voice you knew so well came through the door.

Inside, you found Mina in her lonesome sitting on a couch with her legs crossed, hands in her lap as she stared up at the roof, not even bothered enough to look at you as you entered the room. It wasn’t until you walked over and sat down next to her did she finally lower her gaze and turn to you, a blank expression on her face.

“How’s it going?” you asked once she finally gave you some attention.

“Lonely as fuck,” Mina replied. “Excuse my French.”

“I’m sorry, they-”

“Don’t want us to influence each other, yeah yeah yeah I’ve heard it all already, I don’t need to hear it from you as well.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop…” Mina’s voice trailed off as she let out a frustrated sigh, pausing mid sentence. The silence was palpable, both of you acutely aware of the weight of the moment. Mina took another sigh before finishing her thought. “I’m sorry, it’s just that things are kinda complicated, I shouldn’t be lashing out at you.”

“What exactly do you mean when you say things are complicated right now?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe the fact that I almost quit once already? This is a very real chance for me to leave this life behind.”

“Even if you felt that way before, what matters is how you feel now,” you replied softly. “Do you still feel like you want to step away?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then it sorta sounds like you know what you want to do,” you continued just as softly. “So, what do you think is bothering you? What’s making it difficult still? I can tell there’s obviously something.”

“There isn’t.”

“Yes there is.”

“No there is not!”

“Mina,” you spoke carefully after taking a pause. “You’ve snapped at me twice in the matter of seconds now. We both know this isn’t like you.”

“I know,” she sighed as if disappointed in herself. “Sorry, really, it’s just a lot…”

“We don’t have to talk about it, I was just checking in,” you added earnestly. “If you would rather discuss with someone else, I can leave.”

“Please don’t,” she muttered quietly before you could stand up. “Just stay and… just stay.”

“Okay.”

The room became unusually quiet, air thick with tension as the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning. Each passing second was stretched into an eternity as both of you waited in a feeble attempt to figure out who was supposed to speak first. You honestly were caught off guard with this, you thought Mina would be an easy one.

“So…” you started, but the word hung awkwardly in the air before both of you fell silent again.

Mina shifted her body slightly, a nervous laugh escaping her before she replied. “This is really odd.”

“Yup,” you replied, casually playing with a loose string on the armrest. “But it is kinda your fault.”

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“Good, because it is.”

“You’re not helping.”

“You’re not letting me help.”

The silence returned, heavier this time. You could feel your heart start racing as you desperately wanted to say something meaningful to absolve the situation of tension, but you knew you had to be patient.

Mina finally turned to face you, her eyes tender. “I’ve been thinking about… things,” her voice trailed off again.

“Things?” you echoed, leaning in slightly in an attempt to encourage her to continue.

“Yeah like, you know, things,” she repeated. “I just don’t know how to say it.”

“There really aren’t many things you can’t tell me, if any. You know this,” you replied casually but gently. “What’s making it so difficult this time?”

“Maybe the fact that I fucking love you?”

The room went silent yet again, the world turned still. Your heart stopped beating for a moment before rapidly catching up, making up for the missed beats by working twice as hard.

“Mina…”

“I’m serious,” she leaned in closer, her fingers brushed against your thigh, the tender touch that sent shivers through you. With each slow, deliberate movement, Mina seemed to ease the tension away, calming your heart rate, her presence grounding you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. “I love you,” she whispered as she leaned in even closer, her voice resonating with sincerity.

As she continued to lean in, her breath warm against your skin, she began pressing her lips softly against yours. The kiss was tentative at first, a barely-audible whisper of affection, but it very quickly deepened as you started to feel her pouring her feelings into it. The intensity of her love was more than evident in every brush of her lips, conveying her feelings in a way words could never.

“Mina…” you murmured between kisses, barely taking a breath as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest.

“I love you,” she breathed, her whisper echoing in your ears.

She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her own shining as her emotion became too much to handle. With dewy eyes and unspoken words, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to yours again, this time more fervently - Her timidness disappearing with each consecutive kiss.

“You make me feel safe,” she added as her hand inched upwards from your thigh towards your waistband. “Like I can be myself without any fear, without holding back.”

With that, Mina pressed her lips to yours again with a mix of tenderness and urgency that spoke volumes. Meanwhile, her hand delicately slipped into your pants, her fingers gently began caressing your shaft before they slowly pulled it out.

“Maybe now’s not the best time,” you gasped before Mina pressed her mouth against yours again.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” she mumbled into your mouth, holding her forehead against yours as she gently wrapped her fingers around your cock. Her fingers, hesitating for just a moment, began to slowly stroke your shaft, spreading the little bubble of your precum evenly along your length. Her lips brushed against yours one more time, softer than ever. “I’ve been thinking about how I felt when I thought you were leaving, how much it hurt.”

“You mean the world to me,” your words were met with one last kiss before Mina began sliding off the couch, dropping to her knees in front of you. “Are you sure you want…”

She hushed you with her eyes, almost angrily, as she began stroking you faster. As her movements became more confident, the warmth of her touch seemed to melt away any lingering awkwardness in the room. Each stroke was tender, almost reverent, the connection between you two deepened, and every heartbeat echoed in your ears.

As Mina continued stroking your shaft - eliciting a few quiet breaths from your lips - her expression reflected a blend of tenderness and vulnerability. Her eyes shimmered with affection, a hint of shyness in her gaze as if she was both thrilled and a little nervous about the intimacy of the moment. She looked right into your eyes, seeking reassurance, her cheeks flushed with warmth, wanting nothing more than to make sure you can feel her devotion.

Then, suddenly, a sharp gasp escaped your lips as Mina leaned forward and pressed her lips against your balls. As she planted countless tender kisses, her hands continued moving with purpose - each movement deliberate, infused with her passion for you.

“I fucking love you,” you moaned, closing your eyes as Mina wrapped her mouth around your sack, engulfing it fully. “Fuck… Mina… you’re fucking amazing.”

With a soft pop, she released your balls, her eyes widened as she looked up at you with joy flickering across her features. Then, that beautifully radiant smile of hers came out, illuminating her face as she was overwhelmed by joy.

Without even thinking, you leaned forward and cupped her face in your hands before pressing your lips against hers, shoving your tongue into her mouth to be met with hers, playfully intertwining and wrestling.

At the same time, with renewed energy, Mina’s gentle but firm fingers resumed working on your cock. She began rubbing her palm against your tip, clawing your shaft with her fingers, slowly moving up and down as the two of you kissed. With every stroke, you seemed to melt into the moment more and more, indulging yourself in the pleasures of losing your mind with sensation.

Mina leaned back, ending the kiss - truthfully leaving you somewhat disappointed. However, the disappointment didn’t last long at all, as Mina plunged downwards, wrapping her mouth around your cock before swirling her tongue around your shaft. With her brows slightly furrowed, her movements became completely fluid and confident, moving her lips up and down your cock with ease.

“Oh fuck, Mina…” you cried out as her hand began caressing your balls.

Her expertise really began to show as she worked your cock, applying just the right amount of pressure, washing away any remnants of tension, enveloping your cock in a haze of comfort and warmth. Each motion echoed the affection she felt towards you, it was like she knew exactly how to make you feel best - which she probably did at this point.

It was becoming difficult to concentrate on anything but the blissful feeling radiating from Mina’s throat. Your thoughts began blurring as you started slipping into a state of numbness, that rhythm of your connection with Mina taking over your world. It took all of the willpower you could muster to hold yourself back, to stop yourself from coating the inside of Mina’s mouth white.

Despite how fucking divine Mina felt in this moment, it was a blessing in disguise when she lifted her mouth off your cock, shifting her hand from your balls back to your shaft. She stopped mere moments before you were about to hit your point of no return.

“I need you to fuck me,” she moaned, tightening her grip on your cock, giving it a couple of final strokes before getting off her knees and grabbing your hand, forcing you to stand up as she pulled you towards the meeting table. “Right now.”

“Mina, your lawyer could come back at any second, this is already way too-”

“I don’t care,” she begged, letting go of your hand and turning around. She bent over at the hips, reaching up her skirt before tugging her sheer panties down to her ankles and leaning on the table. She looked back at you with eyes filled to the brim with love before letting out a single word in a soft whisper. “Please.”

She had you. It would take an act of God to stop you at this point with how hard your cock was throbbing just at the idea of fucking Mina right now. It no longer mattered that you were at the offices and anyone could walk in at any moment. You didn’t even care enough to waste time walking across the room to lock the door. As soon as you flipped Mina’s skirt up, seeing her perfect ass presenting itself to you, you knew you made the right decision.

Without wasting another moment, you stepped into her body, rubbing your cock between her ass until you found her entrance. You placed a hand on her lower back, holding her down as you slowly inserted your shaft into her pussy. It was impossible to keep count of how many times you’ve been in this position at this point with your cock inside Mina, but one thing was certain - she’s never been this wet before. Mina’s pussy has never felt better, as if it was perfectly made just for your cock.

As you began to slowly move in and out of Mina’s body, her head dropped down to the table, her arms flexed as her elbows dug into the dark mahogany. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she pushed backwards into your body slightly, enhancing the sensation of your thrusts. Her shoulders began to visibly relax, succumbing to pleasure before your eyes.

Every few moments she would moan out, her breath hitching each time you hit a particularly sensitive spot or when the angle was just right. She would look back at you, eyes half-lidded as she bit her lip, silently begging for you to keep going before facing forward and letting her face drop to the table instinctively.

Her breaths were becoming more shallow and quick, almost perfectly reflecting the pressure building up in your cock. You had to slow down your rhythm, focusing on pushing your entire length into her pussy in slow, drawn out movements, all just to hold yourself back selfishly to keep going just a bit longer.

The end was nearing rapidly as a few beads of sweat began falling from your forehead. Your hands, both gripping Mina’s ass, began trembling, pressing deeper into her softness. Her breathing grew deeper and more relaxed, the energy dissipating as she was dealing with her own overwhelming sensation as you found a rhythm that resonated between the two of you.

And then your mind went completely blank. There was nothing in the world other than the sound of your skin slapping against Mina’s perfect ass. It lasted for an eternity - or realistically just a couple of seconds - before a particularly sharp gasp escaped Mina’s lips, bringing you back to reality as you felt a rush of your warm cum leak out of Mina’s pussy right before your cock began exploding, launching white ropes inside her.

Pulling out was completely out of the question as you found yourself lost in the overwhelming bliss of it all. The electric blend of your cock releasing combined with Mina’s moans created this beautiful moment where you felt your body melting away at Mina’s touch. You felt your cock emptying itself completely in Mina’s pussy as the world began to creep back into reality before you slowly removed your cock, leaving you breathless but also acutely aware of the current situation.

“Shit, quickly before someone walks in,” you gasped, just as breathless as Mina, while reaching across the table to grab some tissues.

Mina lifted herself up off the table, turning around to face you before hopping up on the table with her legs spread, smiling brightly at you. Before you could wipe the mess you left on her legs away, she pulled you into a long, drawn-out kiss.

“Thank you,” she muttered as her lips gently parted from yours.

“Never thank me for this,” you smiled at her as you began wiping her legs clean. “I’m glad I… helped?”

“You did,” Mina giggled softly, taking the tissues from your hand and wiping herself. “I feel a lot better about renewing.”

“We probably should talk about-”

“Not now,” Mina interjected. “I just want to enjoy what we just did, that felt better than usual…”

“I’m fine with that,” you agreed, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss. “Do you want me to wait with you until your lawyer comes back?”

“Wow, really in a hurry to leave after nutting in me?”

“What, no I-” you stammered before Mina burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding, get out of here before I have to lie to my lawyer about what you were doing in here.”

—

With that done, you’ve confirmed eight of the nine Twice members. There was just one girl left for you to meet with, the one you didn’t initially think you’d have to worry about, and you especially didn’t think you had to worry when just a few minutes ago you received an email saying all nine members have agreed to renew - albeit in varying degrees.

Yet she was nowhere to be found. No one seemed to know either. This was odd to say the least, usually you were the first person to know about anything happening with Twice, but right now you were as lost as you could be. Finally, after talking to an executive, you were informed that Tzuyu was in a private meeting with some of the board.

Was she in trouble? You wanted to just assume something positive, like maybe she petitioned to start working on her solo or something, but it didn’t make sense for her to not at least tell you about it. Maybe she was upset with you about the whole breakup thing and then you getting with Sana so soon after? No, that would be absurd, right? That was all in the past, she was probably just busy. All the negative thoughts were exhausting, you needed a temporary distraction until you could talk to Tzuyu. You flipped open your phone, and to no surprise at all, saw a few direct messages from the members.

Chaeyoung straight up messaged you saying she wanted to fuck - really lacking in subtlety at times - to which you teased her by suggesting she could just hit up someone from her roster. She wasn’t too happy about that one, but she’d get over it. If not, you’d just have to make it up to her by doing something you’d be more than happy to do anyway. Confirmation of her annoyance came when she messaged you saying she was taking Dahyun out to a secret club tonight. That piqued your curiosity, but she stopped replying. You’d have to remember to find out more about this club later.

Sana had also messaged you, asking if you wanted to watch a very specific movie tonight. This would seem harmless to most, but you knew Sana’s game all too well; With how the night goes every time you’ve tried watching this movie together, it was essentially code for something else. You replied telling her that you just had to take care of a couple of work-related things first, promising her that you’d watch the movie with her later tonight.

After sending a quick reply to Nayeon who was asking you to come in with her tomorrow for her solo practice by telling her you’d obviously love nothing more than to accompany her - to which she replied essentially saying she wants you to fuck her tomorrow - you scrolled a bit more down your contacts. The Twice girls were all so horny tonight, you had almost every option at your fingertips, maybe because of the whole contract thing and all the stress. Unfortunately you were still dealing with this insufferable nagging in the back of your head, one that you desperately needed a distraction from.

—

“Thanks for coming.”

“Don’t be stupid, you wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t think I’d come,” Momo replied without even looking up from the menu. “It’s just such a rare offer nowadays, ever since you and Sana started this whole boyfriend girlfriend thing.”

“We’re not boyfriend girlfriend,” you protested.

“We’re not boyfriend girlfriend,” Momo mocked you with a teasing voice. “Yeah, and I hate food.”

“Seems like it with how long you’re taking.”

“Well, have you seen how many different options there are?” Momo whined, pouting at the menu. Even though she wore a beanie nearly covering her eyes, you could see her rapidly scanning across the page trying to decide. “Can we just get like four and share?”

“Order the whole menu if you want, I’m charging it to the company anyway.”

And she did just that.

“That poor waitress,” you chuckled, leaning back into the booth. “I forgot how absurd you can be when it comes to food.”

“See, it is a rare occurrence, you’ve even forgotten the basics,” Momo nudged you softly in the ribs before sliding closer, resting her hand on your thigh. “So, any particular reason you called me?”

“You’re going to make fun of me and probably won’t believe it, but I really just felt like spending some time with you. Feels like life has just been so hectic lately.”

“No,” Momo replied with an unexpected softness. “I believe you, I’ve missed this.”

“Me too,” you sighed before wrapping your arm around Momo’s shoulder. “Do you think there’s enough privacy here?”

“Yes,” Momo whispered as she leaned into you and kissed you, reading your mind.

The urgency behind Momo’s lips was intoxicating - like when you’re doing something you shouldn’t do, but you’re doing it anyway. She pressed harder, nearly knocking you out of the booth, forcing you to push back. Then, just as quickly as it started, she pulled back, leaving you desperate for more.

“You know, I enjoy spending time with you outside of work and sex,” Momo noted casually before reaching for her mochaccino and taking a sip. “I feel like you’ve gotten better at that, by the way.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

Momo gave you another nudge in the ribs, this time significantly harder as if there was actually a bit of annoyance behind the jest. “Idiot,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“I just meant like, practicing so that I can be better for you!”

“Stop talking, my cake is coming,” Momo replied coldly as her eyes fixated on the tray of sweets being walked to your table. “Thank you so much,” she gushed in her most adorably cute voice towards the waitress, eyes scanning each plate as it was placed on the table, looking for her first target.

“You’re welcome,” the waitress replied with a smile before walking away.

“What should I try first?” Momo asked, seemingly no longer upset with you.

“Can’t go wrong with chocolate.”

“Coconut!” she reached forward excitedly.

“Or that,” you chuckled, reaching for a slice of what looked like strawberry for yourself.

To your surprise, Momo held up the first bite for you to try. You accepted the piece from her fork, nodding happily as the combination of coconut and chocolate hit your tongue.

“That’s good,” you mumbled, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Oooooh,” she moaned, widening her eyes in delight as she took a bite herself.

Each consecutive bite had you captivated with how her expression changed - she was completely lost in the moment. It was like watching a kid in a candy store, she couldn’t hide her happiness at all. Her eyes sparkled with each bite she took and with each bite she made you take from her fork.

“I don’t think we’re finishing all of these,” Momo began giggling with her cheeks full after taking what felt like her hundredth unique bite of cake. “Why’d you order so many?”

“What do you-”

“Kidding,” she wiped a bit of frosting on your cheek. “You have something on your face.”

“Oh do I?” you shook your head with an uncontrollable smile on your face.

“I got it,” Momo leaned forward and pressed her mouth against your cheek. “There you go!”

The two of you laughed, relishing in the light atmosphere, enjoying each other’s company. It became pretty clear to you at this moment - filled with cake and silliness - how much you enjoyed being around Momo. You’ve honestly missed this more than you even realized. There was a tinge of sadness in the back of your mind though, knowing you didn’t have the time to do this with her more often, especially knowing soon the group would be touring the world again, and you knew their next tour would last significantly longer than this one.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten that deal we made when I first joined the team,” you stated, playing with the chocolate frosting on your plate.

“Which one? We’ve made a few,” Momo giggled as she took another bite. “You mean the one where you’ll always take me out for food if I ask? Or the one where I get on my kn-”

“Yeah, breakfast, lunch, or dinner, I’ll never say no to a one on one meal with you,” you interjected. “Even with this thing I have with Sana, and she understands that.”

“Just because she understands, doesn’t mean I think it’s right.”

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t it be?”

Momo put down her fork, smiling tenderly at you before speaking. “You mean a lot to me, obviously, but I can’t do that to Sana.”

“I’m so confused.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Momo scoffed, shaking her head. “Every now and then is fine, like we are now, I know Sana’s fine with that since it is technically part of your job, but there are still boundaries I have to respect.”

“Boundaries? You mean between us?”

“Yes.”

“Momo…” you scrunched your forehead in frustration, trying to understand. “I don’t want you to feel like that, not because of this Sana thing. I’m responsible for all of you.”

“And you’re doing a great job.”

“It doesn’t sound like it,” you disagreed. “You shouldn’t feel like you have to hold anything back around me. That’s kinda the whole point, me being intimate and all with you girls.”

“It’s not holding back,” Momo explained. “It’s just that things are obviously a bit more complicated now, especially since you’ve started doing more than just the physical with the members.”

“That shouldn’t change anything, it’s just some fun on the side.”

“Not everyone sees it that way, not that anyone would admit it,” Momo sighed. “The thing is, it’s totally possible that eventually one of us could… you know.”

“I don’t think I do. Could what?”

“Could maybe end up with you, like properly,” Momo explained. “Let’s just be honest with ourselves, you’ve become such an important part of our lives, some of the members have definitely started thinking about it. You mean a lot more than I think you realize, but we also have to balance the fact that none of the members wants to hurt another one. Everyone is trying to be fair in this weird situation, it’s just kinda hard.”

“And you girls mean the world to me as well, but when you say end up with me, do you mean like, exclusive? Live the rest of our lives together?” you asked, finally starting to understand what Momo was getting at. “I haven’t put too much thought into that, I think because it would make my job a lot harder if I did.”

“Well it’s a good thing we had this conversation then, because maybe you should start thinking about it, before you end up hurting someone,” Momo smiled softly. “Not that I think you’d ever do that on purpose of course.”

“Momo can I ask you something super personal?” you asked cautiously, waiting for her nod of approval before continuing. “Have you thought… could you see us… how do I say this…”

Momo smiled warmly, tilting her head slightly. “You can buy me gifts, you can take me out to dinner, you can…” she paused to look around for anyone listening before continuing, “...you can fuck me silly every day, but I can’t think about being something more with you, not while you’re with Sana. Out of respect for my friend.”

“You’re right, sorry, I shouldn’t be asking that anyway,” you began regretting what you said. “And you’re also right in that I should be more respectful of Sana.”

“I don’t think you’re being disrespectful,” Momo responded after thinking for a second. “I just think you do need to start taking this relationship stuff a bit more seriously. Even if we don’t-” Momo froze mid sentence for a moment before proceeding as if nothing happened. “Regardless of who you end up with, if you even end up with one of us, it’s ultimately a decision you have to make. At that point it has nothing to do with your job.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words as the possibilities began flooding through your mind. Could you really see yourself spending the rest of your life with one of these girls? There was no doubt that you cared for them, and maybe even loved some of them in that way, but would it even be possible? No, forget possible, would it be morally acceptable for someone with your job to even consider this? It almost felt wrong, but if the feelings were mutual…

“Not right now though,” Momo added. “You’re going to have to take some time by yourself. For now, let’s just enjoy the moment.”

“Alright,” you agreed, emptying your mind for now. “So, how’s the weather?”

“Idiot,” Momo chuckled, pushing her plate forward. “I’m so stuffed, this was way too much cake.”

“I’m going to remind you one last time, it was you who ordered it all.”

“Yeah but you suggested getting the whole menu.”

“Alright fair,” you smiled at her. “I’ll give you that one.”

“That’s right,” Momo laughed, taking the little victory. “Now what?”

“Earlier, you mentioned a couple of things that you’d be fine with,” you began with a slight smirk. “Gifts and dinner are fun and all, but what was that third one again?”

“Yeah?” Momo shifted her demeanor and began putting on her most seductive voice. “Is that what you want?”

“Maybe it is.”

“You want to fuck me silly?”

“I think we… would get caught…” you stuttered, blanking as Momo bent forward to give you a clear view down her shirt, taking your advance far more seriously and quickly than you had expected.

“Then maybe something more subtle?” Momo suggested, sliding her hand against the bulge in your pants. “I could quietly jerk you off, or what if I drop down under this table?”

“Well-”

“Is that what you want? You want me to suck your cock? Right here? Right now?” Momo purred into your ears. “Are you going to fuck my mouth for me? Cum down my throat for me?”

“Momo-”

“Is that why you really called me here?” she continued, not letting you speak, pushing harder on your pants. “I’m getting so fucking wet just thinking about how your cock feels in my mouth. I want that warm cum, I want your warm cum in my mouth.”

Your heart began racing, and all of a sudden the thought of getting caught didn’t matter. Your primal instincts kicked in and you felt ready to knock the spread of cakes in front of you onto the floor to make room for Momo, to bend Momo over the table in front of everyone.

“I can see you thinking about it,” Momo whispered, leaning in closer to your ear and giving your neck a small lick. “You want my wet pussy, I can feel it, you’re so fucking hard right now.”

“I do,” you moaned quietly, reaching your arm around her waist and pressing your hand against the side of her tit. “Tell me what you think we should do. Bathroom? Car? Alley? You decide.”

“I think we should pack the rest of these,” she suggested, completely flipping back to her casual tone, letting go of your cock and looking down at the assortment of cakes. “I don’t think there’s any chance we’re finishing them.”

“What?”

“Yeah, the cakes were amazing, I don’t want to waste them,” Momo said casually. “Did you want to take any of them with you? Maybe take the chocolate one for Sana?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” Momo feigned innocence. “You don’t think Sana would like that?”

“No of course she would,” you stammered, your voice an octave higher than normal. “But what about… what about…”

“It’s getting kinda late, we should really get going,” Momo giggled. “Thanks for this though, I had a great time!”

“I can’t believe you right now.”

“What did I do?”

“I’m going to get you back for this,” you gasped as reality began setting in, your cock still throbbing in your pants. “I swear.”

“We both know you won’t stay mad at me for long,” Momo teased before leaning over and kissing your cheek.

She was right.

—

“Tzu?” you called, opening the door to her room slowly. “Where have you been?”

“Hey,” she replied quietly.

“Is everything-” you stopped speaking and walked into the room up to Tzuyu who was staring out the window while covering herself up in her blankets. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered unconvincingly before suddenly turning to face you, her eyes full of vulnerability and fear. “I messed up.”

“What’s wrong? How long have you been here? Have you been alone?” you asked, taking a seat on her bed.

“A few hours, Dahyun and Chaeyoung went to some club or something, I don’t know.”

“How did the contract stuff go? I heard you renewed but I couldn’t find you earlier.”

“It was fine.”

“Tzu,” you spoke gently and cautiously. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She looked up into your eyes, her pupils filled to the brim with despair. “At first I didn’t. I said no,” she explained.

“Okay,” you replied slowly, thinking about what the next best question would be.

“And then I changed my mind, but it was too late,” she continued, small tears forming in her eyes. “Some of the execs had… other plans for me.”

“Other plans?” your heart began thumping in your chest. “What do you mean by other plans? Did someone… what did they do?”

“There was no other way,” Tzuyu mumbled as a tear spilled down her cheek. “I had to convince the company… I had to do what they wanted.”

“Tzuyu,” you tried your best to remain composed, but inside you were burning up in rage. “Tell me right now, did any of them touch you?”

“No, not exactly…” she answered quietly, wiping her eyes.

“Can you tell me what exactly you did?” you asked, reaching forward and taking her hand in yours. “Take as long as you need, I’m here for you, but I need to know what happened.”

“I took some pictures for them.”

“Pictures?” you could feel your blood boiling, but you had to know exactly what happened. “What kind of pictures?”

“You know what kind,” she began crying. “It was stupid, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Who was there, tell me,” you kept your voice calm. “I’ll go deal with this right now.”

“No don’t, please.”

“What do you mean don’t? I’m not letting this go.”

“It’ll just come back to me,” Tzuyu pleaded, squeezing your hand. “Please, they didn’t force me, I agreed to it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay, they abused the situation and that’s not okay.”

“It’s all done now, they were respectful about it and everything. It’s fine.”

“Tzuyu it’s not fine,” your voice came out louder than intended. “Why would you do this? What the fuck-”

“Because I didn’t think I could keep sharing you like this.”

The room went silent.

“That’s why I said no at first,” she explained. “But then I realized how stupid I was being and changed my mind.”

“But you didn’t have to take those pictures.”

“Well I fucking did,” Tzuyu cried out. “Can you just let it go? I know I fucked up, but it’s done.”

“I…” you stuttered, pain stabbing your chest as you watched Tzuyu cry. “I’m sorry, come here,” you leaned forward and pulled her into your arms, “I’m really sorry, it’s okay,” you rubbed her back softly, holding her as she sobbed softly against your body. “I can still get the pictures deleted though, just give me some time.”

Tzuyu let go of you after a few seconds and looked into your eyes. Hers were bright red, but she wasn’t crying anymore. “And do what? Get yourself fired?” Tzuyu said, her voice soft and quiet. “Just for them to still have the pictures, ready to end my idol career at any point?”

“They’d never release them.”

“I know they wouldn’t,” Tzuyu smiled meekly. “That’s why I’m telling you to just let it go.”

“Even if they released them, we could just ignore them and have a team put out news stating they’re fake,” you suggested. “Not everyone at the company is a sick fuck, you’re not helpless here.”

“Are you really going to make me beg you?”

“Tzu, I can help-”

“How about you help me by getting my mind off it for a bit?” she interjected, tossing her blanket to the side, exposing her bare legs and bright blue panties. “Can you do that for me?”

Conflicted wasn’t even close to explaining how you felt right now. How could she possibly be asking for this right now, and why did you want her more than ever. It was her mascara, messy on her face, that vulnerability that made Tzuyu prettier than she already was, more beautiful than reality. Or maybe it was the thought of those pictures. No, you fucking hated that thought, the feeling that someone-

“How long has it been?” Tzuyu whispered as she spread her legs, derailing your thoughts entirely as she brought her fingers between her legs, toying with herself. “Have you missed this?”

“More than you could ever know,” you moaned, lunging forward and pressing your mouth against hers, succumbing to temptation. Your hands fumbled around her body, pausing at her hips, squeezing her soft skin before your fingers slipped into her panties and began sliding them off, slipping the fabric off her ankle with her help. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Tzuyu breathed into your mouth, her delicate fingers unbuckling your pants. She wasted absolutely no time, and before you knew it she had her slender fingers wrapped around your shaft, pumping you softly to life. Tzuyu kissed you again, her tongue explored your mouth while she grazed her fingertips against your tip. “Slowly, please,” she added with a whisper.

Your fingers replaced hers as you took hold of your cock, feeling around between her legs until your tip was rubbing against her entrance. She was wet, there was no doubt about that, but you could tell as you tried pressing in that she was tight. Too tight. After thoroughly coating your tip with her wetness, you lined yourself up and gave a hard push with your hips when suddenly Tzuyu let out a harsh cry, her eyes filling up again.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, immediately pulling out.

“No,” Tzuyu protested, digging her nails into your ribs. “Give it to me, please.”

There was no way. You’ve fucked Tzuyu plenty of times, but she had never been this tight before, it was impossible. But you had to do something, you couldn’t stop. Your cock would probably explode if you didn’t fuck her right now - you could partially blame Momo for that.

“I will, but first I want to taste you,” you whispered softly before kissing her again. “Is that fine?”

Tzuyu nodded slowly, and with that you slid down her body until your face tucked between her legs. You pressed forward, getting as close as physically possible, and gave Tzuyu’s pussy a lick from bottom to top before clamping your lips against her clit. She exhaled sharply and her fingers latched onto your hair as you sucked on her folds, immersing yourself in the salty tang of her pussy.

Her pussy began leaking onto your chin as you opened your mouth wider, pressing your tongue flat against her entrance, applying pressure in various spots, testing her body, using Tzuyu’s grip on your hair for feedback alongside her soft moans. With your tongue pressing against her pussy, entering her body just slightly, you could feel her body relaxing in your mouth - it was working.

Even though Tzuyu’s pussy tasted amazing to you, intoxicating even, it was clear that your soft strokes were not enough to keep your cock controlled. You needed her body, the pressure was becoming too much for you to handle. You gave her pussy one last kiss before leaning back, a trail of saliva and Tzuyu’s wetness connecting your bodies until you severed the strand.

With both hands at the same time, you spread her legs wide, as wide as they could go. Before your throbbing cock, Tzuyu’s pussy was absolutely glistening, calling out to you as you gripped yourself once more and lined up with her body. In your periphery you could see her beautiful face, biting her lower lip, staring at you, but your eyes were fixated on the sparkle of her folds.

Slowly, with tremendous care, you inched your cock into Tzuyu’s tight little pussy. Your eyes were completely fixated on watching yourself disappear within her body, pushing forward, deeper as her pussy spread itself for your length, Tzuyu’s warmth engulfing your shaft, opening up nicely. She was still tight, but it was more like a snug blanket now, pressing down on your cock beautifully.

“Oh fuck,” Tzuyu moaned, shutting her eyes tight. “Fuck, yes, fuck me.”

Her pussy was overwhelming - so beautiful and pristine. With your cock buried inside her, you fell forward, lunging into Tzuyu’s neck and sucking on her soft skin as you began moving your hips back and forth slowly. It felt so good, it felt fucking amazing, but it wasn’t going to last. Embarrassment, masked only briefly by intense pleasure shooting through your body, began flowing as you couldn’t even last a minute inside Tzuyu’s pussy.

“Fuck!” you cried out as your cock began convulsing inside her body. “Shit!”

It was overwhelming as you clenched your jaw, trying to compose yourself as you emptied your cum into her, waiting for your cock to stop throbbing. Once you finally stopped pulsing, you pressed your lips against Tzuyu’s neck again, desperately kissing every part of her as your half-stiffened cock immediately came back to life as blood rushed back into it. You fumbled around the bed with your hands until you found Tzuyu’s fingers and interlocked yours with hers.

With a quick squeeze of her fingers, you began aggressively thrusting your cock as deep as you could into her cum-filled pussy. She was warm, loosening up nicely for your thickness now, but she still felt as amazing as ever. Your mouth remained glued to her neck as your hips relentlessly fucked her pussy.

Tzuyu’s moans were barely audible over the sharp ringing in your ears as your body began struggling to deal with all the sensation. Your cock was getting completely overwhelmed, but you couldn’t stop. There was no way you could stop, Tzuyu’s pussy was too perfect and you were too insatiable. Her moans, warped into screams, mixed with the sound of her skin slapping against yours.

She began squeezing your fingers hard, painfully hard, but you kept going. You fucked Tzuyu as if your life depended on it as you felt her body pressing up against yours. Her chest shot up, those soft tits pressing against your body through the thin fabric of her shirt, her pussy squeezing harder than ever now against your cock.

Her climax didn’t slow you down at all, even as her pussy clamped down on your cock, you fought through it, making sure to keep up the same pace as your body pushed past physical limits. Your cock almost felt numb, a high that in this moment you believed only Tzuyu’s pussy could give you. Tzuyu kept on cumming - you could feel it. Her body squeezed tightly against your cock as you felt your second orgasm nearing. It really didn’t last much longer the second time, mostly thanks to Tzuyu’s pussy’s rhythmic squeezing, before you felt yourself ready to explode again.

This time, you let go of her fingers and pulled back, pulling your cock out of her. Immediately, a huge rush of your cum spilled out of her pussy as you reached for your shaft with one hand, slipping against the wetness, struggling to get a grip as you stroked yourself, aiming at Tzuyu’s perfect body.

But this time, you were able to look deep into Tzuyu’s eyes. The two of you locked gazes as you gave your cock a final couple of strokes. Tzuyu, without hesitation, reached up with one hand and began fondling your cock right before the first spurt of cum shot out, landing directly on her pussy. Without breaking eye contact, Tzuyu brought her other hand to her pussy and began rubbing circles against herself, spreading your cum across her body as your next few shots landed on the back of her hand.

With one final grunt, you fell forward onto her body, snuggling into her tightly as you gasped desperately for air. Tzuyu began moving her hips slowly, rubbing her pussy against your overly-sensitive cock, massaging it gently with the absurd amount of cum on her. It felt nice and soothing to say the least.

“Thank you,” she moaned softly as her other hand wrapped around your body, rubbing your back.

“Don’t… thank… me…” you gasped, turning your head slightly and kissing Tzuyu’s cheek. “Thank you.”

After a few minutes of silence and warmth as your bodies recovered together, Tzuyu spoke first.

“Sometimes I wish we kept going.”

Before answering, you rolled over off her body so that you were laying on your side next to her. “It was amazing being with you, even if just for such a short time,” you replied softly.

“But we both knew it couldn’t last,” Tzuyu whispered, turning over to her side and facing you, resting the side of her face on her arm. “And that’s okay.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked while reaching forward to push her hair out of her face and behind her ear.

“Because we both know I’m not the one you’re supposed to end up with,” she answered, a tear spilling down the side of her face.

“Tzu,” you paused to wipe her cheek. “You are one of the most amazing and beautiful girls in the entire world, you’re going to find someone who is perfect for you one day.”

“I really hope so.”

“It’s not a matter of hope, just time,” you continued. “You’re young and successful with your whole life ahead of you still, there’s absolutely no rush to jump into something.”

“I know,” she mumbled quietly. “It just felt really nice being with you, even if we were just pretending.”

“And you deserve to be with someone properly, not pretending.”

“But that someone won’t be you.”

Her words lingered in the air between you. It felt like for the second time now Tzuyu was breaking up with you, but in a weird way it didn’t hurt this time - not as much at least. It didn’t feel like either of you was making a mistake, you weren’t leaving something behind; Instead, it felt optimistic, like you were moving forward, separately but still together in a sense.

“I’ll still always love you, even if not in that way,” you said softly, wiping another tear from her face. “I still think the world of you.”

“Thank you,” Tzuyu whispered with a smile. “Spend the night?”

“Absolutely.”

---

A/N:

Really feels like a lifetime ago since my last update to this series. Part one of the final nine chapters before I end it and never write the manager trope again! It has been a lot of fun, I really really really hope that the ending is satisfying, especially for any of my readers who are still around from the beginning when I just started. This fic was my first one, my baby, and here we are years later with the end in view!

I'm going to try uploading a few fics in the upcoming weeks during the holidays, so keep your eyes peeled for that if you want. Not necessarily this series, but I want to try posting a few updates for my other ones as well, and maybe even a few one-shots!

[babeyun]

fool me three times... ✩ s.jy [m]

synopsis: you've come home late twice this week, and for the third time to be on jake's birthday is not as charming as they say. genre: established relationship, pwp (sigh...), angst/smut/tiny bit of fluff pairing: sim jaeyun x fem!reader word count: 3.3k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, angry?jake, mentions of jay (poor guy). petnames (baby..sir [free me!!!!]), mentions of voyeurism/3way. biting, spitting, a singular slap (below the belt), oral (f.rec), fingering (f.rec), squirting, degrading, no aftercare (but it's fine i promise) listen to: fallin' - dawn, pH-1 ; abyss - dawn ; meddle about - chase atlantic author's note: i wrote this on a whim, and i'm not entirely happy with it (smut is not my forte nor do i love writing it.) i'd originally planned to take one of my ideas out of the vault and write it in advance, but i got slammed with schoolwork. i am so, so tired as i write this note. happy birthday, jaeyun. i love u.

It's twelve-forty-two in the morning.

This is the third time this week that Jake finds himself sitting on the couch, alone in your shared apartment. He's turned all the lights off, legs crossed over one another as he checks his phone for the fifth time. Nothing.

He sighs inwardly, leaning further into the soft cushions of the couch. You'd picked this out together, and it was one of your favorite places to spend time together that wasn't your bedroom. The soft brown suede had seen the two of you in many situations – cuddling under a soft white blanket Jake's mom gave you for Christmas last year. Sharing a bowl of cereal because you were too lazy to get up and make your own, but you gladly stood up and refilled his bowl. Holding hands tightly when a scary scene came on the television, crashing on the couch after dancing around together to Fallin' by Dawn and pH-1.

Kissing like two desperate lovers, unable to even take your clothes off to fully feel each other's skin. This couch had seen you in every position imaginable, the cushion on the far right the usual place for your face if Jake was too excited to make it to the bedroom.

You were so busy these days. You hadn't had a date night in three weeks, hadn't had sex in two…and unfortunately – it's making him a little insane.

Recently…the couch had seen more and more of Jake, alone. Jake sitting alone, popcorn bowl in his lap as he waited for you to come home from work. Jake, laying down while wearing the oversized hoodie you'd worn the day before, engulfed in the soft grapefruit notes of your perfume. Jake, letting Layla up on the couch to snuggle with because he can't feel your warmth at that moment.

Jake, missing you.

He sighs again, flipping his phone over.

12:45AM.

No new messages from you, no missed calls. Just the soft sound of Abyss by Dawn.

Where have you gone? You were his best friend. His best friend wrapped gently in the sheets of his love, filled to the brim with his soft words and loving caresses. You were his best friend, his lover, his everything. He saw himself in you, his whole purpose was you.

"Shh, he's probably asleep." He hears your voice from the other side of the front door, before hearing you try to gently slide your key in the lock. His eyes widened, pressing pause on the song before bolting for the bedroom. He doesn't make it in time, the door opening and his ears picking up on a familiar laugh.

Jay.

"Jongseong, for the love of God." You grit, and Jake watches as the two of you carefully toe off your shoes, loads of bags in your hands as Jay snickers to himself, carefully tiptoeing to the kitchen in the dark. The hallway light illuminates the back of you, and you suddenly stiffen, lifting your head to meet Jake's eyes.

He scoffs inwardly, watching as you try to fumble with the lightswitch in the living room just as he slides into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He locks it, hearing you start an argument with Jay in the kitchen as you shut the front door.

Unfortunately, Jake only stews in his anger. He doesn't know why you're late today, but it seems Jay has your attention more than your boyfriend does. Your boyfriend of three years, pushed to the side the day before (and day of) his birthday for a friend you made through Jake.

Jake flips onto the bed, a frustrated groan from his lips as he hears the two of you rustling around in the kitchen. The fact that you haven't even come to the bedroom to let him know that you're home is even more infuriating, and Jake feels his throat start to burn as he holds back angry tears.

Jake had always been good at setting boundaries and putting feelings first, despite being somewhat of a more logical thinker. You were an incredibly emotional person, hidden behind layers of shitty relationships and hurtful friendships, was your tired heart trying to patch itself up. Jake knew that if it was him that did this – not texting you when he'd be home late, letting you agonize over your whereabouts, coming home with one of your friends in tow and giggling like they had some sort of secret…

You'd make a fucking scene.

But Jake can't bring himself to do that. Even in all his anger, his frustration…his hurt, he can't confront you like that. It's not fair, to either of you (or Jay, but who's talking about that guy right now? Not Jake.)

He takes a deep breath, feeling a tear slip down the side of his face. He wipes it away quickly, only standing up from the bed to unlock the door. He takes your hoodie off, the grapefruit perfume making his chest ache. He knows you could just be planning a surprise for him. He knows that, but his mind can't help but wonder as he pulls back the comforter.

Why three late nights, in one week? Why no messages, why no phone calls? You wouldn't even kiss him hello when you arrived, just a tired smile and a soft hey. Your hair was always in disarray, and he knew it was because you liked to drive with the windows down. He knew that.

Sighing, he slips under the covers, facing away from the door. He hears you laugh loudly, before hearing your soft footsteps make their way to the bedroom. He wipes at his eyes, feeling a few more tears trickle down his fingers as he hears the door open gently.

He doesn't turn to face you, instead choosing to squeeze his eyes shut when he hears you sigh gently.

"I know you're awake." You murmur, but he doesn't respond. He doesn't turn around, choosing to breathe through his mouth to hide the fact that your behavior drove him to tears. You click your tongue, and he hears the zipper of your pants. You're moving around, undressing from the pretty pink blouse and grey slacks he chose for you that morning. 

He pulls the covers up further, covering his bare shoulders before feeling your hand on the back of his neck. Your fingertips are warm, your thumb gently circling his pulse point. "Jake." "What?" He mutters, the bite of his tone not going unnoticed. You sigh, and he peels open one eye to look up at you. "What, Y/N?" He sees your eyes scan his face, before your hand on his neck gives a soft squeeze. "I love you." He doesn't like how quickly the knot in his stomach goes away at your words, or the way you can tell his cheeks and ears are tinging pink. He scoffs, closing his eye and moving from your touch. "I love you, too. Keep it down."

"Mmh." You hum in response, but he feels your hand card through his hair. He huffs, before feeling your lips press gently on his temple. "I miss you, my baby." You say against his skin, and pull away entirely. He hears you open his dresser drawer, and the rustling of his clothing being pulled onto your body. He opens his eyes to see you tug on a random shirt of his, pulling your hair out of the neckline before opening the door. 

"Y/N, where is your butter?!" Jay calls, and you quickly shut the door, scampering down the hall.

He can hear the two of you bickering before you groan frustratedly, and he can hear Jay say he's going to the store. You argue that you don't even really need the butter for the cake, but Jay's words take Jake by surprise.

"Maybe go spend some time with him while I'm out of here. You know, I love you because you're my friend, but you're really dense today. Sometimes your boyfriend just needs you."

You didn't reply, or at least Jake doesn't think you did as he hears the door open and close. He hears you groan, and he's out of bed before he can even realize it. He grabs the hoodie back off the top of the dresser, shoving his head through it before yanking the door open.

"Y/N." He calls from the threshold of the bedroom, and you poke your head out of the kitchen. Your eyes are wide, but he can see how tired you are by the bags under your eyes. You probably took it off during your overtime, you'd been doing that a lot lately.

He sighs, closing the bedroom door behind him as he walks towards the kitchen. You step out, shaking your head. "You can't go in there, Jake. I'm…we…" "I'm just going to get the butter for you." He rolls his eyes, pushing past and looking away from all the stuff on the counter – but not before catching a glimpse of baby blue frosting in a bag. There were egg cartons stacked neatly, and three gallons of milk. Too many bags of flour to count, and Jake opens the freezer to pull out the butter he'd put up there earlier.

He'd gone grocery shopping by himself, because you weren't able to get off work. He wasn't upset about it, but he remembers you liked to freeze the butter until you had to use it. He doesn't remember why, but the habit stuck with him.

Just like all of your other little habits.

Your eyes are wide as he slides it onto the island, before worming back out of the kitchen. He doesn't say anything to you, only slinking past your tired shoulders when you manage to grab his fingers. He stops in his tracks, sighing as you skirt around to face him. He looks down at you, a tense clench in his jaw as he moves his brows in query.

"Don't be mad." You breathe, both your hands now holding his wrist and fingers. Your eyes search his face, finding the anger in the twitch of his brows before he shakes his head. "I'm not. I'm just tired." "I'm tired too, but I'm not looking at you like that." Jake feels his head swim as he takes in the tinge of guilt in your voice. He knows you're trying to do something nice for him, even if you're shitty at keeping secrets. He knows you're not doing anything to hurt him, you just have a horrible way of executing things.

He appreciates you nonetheless, because he knows that you're trying your best. Your schedule is jam-packed – your days are long and frustrating, full of people that need your help constantly, full of you having to make decisions for everyone else.

Jake being someone who values quality time clashed with that. He remembers how he'd squeeze in seeing you during your lunch break when you first started dating, just to have a moment alone. He remembers even waking up early to drive to your old apartment and sit in your bedroom while you got ready for work, just for a chance to give you a good morning kiss.

He made time. You're making time.

"I'm sorry." You speak again, your hands squeezing his arm lightly. "Yeah?" He shakes his head, but you nod quickly, your hands floating to his face.

"I am, I'm sorry. I know I should be–" "Prove it." He cuts you off, his face just inches from yours. Your eyes are glued to his lips, before they flicker up to his. He furrows his eyebrows at you expectantly, your tongue wetting your own lips just slightly. "How?" "You know how." His response is curt, and you swallow hard. "...Can I kiss you?" He doesn't respond, opting to answer physically. His lips press to yours gently, hands snaking around your waist to pull you closer to him. He craved your presence, in any way he could have it. He feels you sigh into his mouth as his fingers slip under your shirt, pinching at the soft skin.

"Bedroom." You mumble against his lips, and he shakes his head. "Right here." His lips move down your jaw, before his teeth catch your earring, tugging it gently. You groan as his hands move under your sweatpants, palming at your ass as you struggle to speak. "Jay-" He growls against your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before running his tongue over it. "I don't give a shit about Jay. We can give him a show if he wants to watch." 

He reconnects your lips, tongue sliding into your mouth as he moves the two of you back to the couch. His fingers push your sweatpants down as the back of your legs hit the cushion, and you look over at the door, seeing it slightly ajar and unlocked. "The door–" "Fuck the door." He groans, tugging your underwear down in one go. He pushes you gently back against the couch before kneeling in front of you, tugging the clothing off your bottom half before yanking you closer to him by your ankle. You yelp before feeling him bite at your inner thigh. "Jake!" "That's for being late on Monday." He mutters, before sinking his teeth into your other thigh, a whimper from your throat catching his attention. "That's for being late on Thursday." "I'm sorry, I was just–" "I don't want to hear it." He interrupts, shrugging. He lowers his head again, watching you brace yourself for the sharp pain of his teeth, smiling to himself before spitting on your pussy. You jolt, but can't say anything as he quickly drags his tongue through your slit. He laps at you like a dog, messily collecting your arousal on his tongue as you breathe heavily.

His nose bumps your clit as he avoids touching it with his tongue entirely, opting to thrust the wet muscle into your hole as you whine his name out desperately. "J-Jake, please, I'm sorry–" He pulls away, his lips and chin covered in your slick as he runs the tips of his cold fingers through your folds. "You know, you could've texted me."

You shudder as his thumb makes contact with your clit, the pressure light as he circles it. "I know, Jakey, I'm–" "Or called. I paid the phone bill, and I got the confirmation email. Your phone works." He interjects, nodding his head as he eases the tip of his middle finger into you, smiling to himself as your head lolls back. "I'm sorry." You breathe out, Jake's finger curling inside you to brush that spot that makes your eyes roll. He only hums in response, feeling you cover his hand in your arousal as he slowly adds another finger, relishing in the wet sound of your pussy against his hand. "You're going to prove it to me, right? Gonna cum all over my hand, right? That's all you're good for, anyway." His tone is condescending, making you clench around his fingers. His eyes widen, before a low chuckle slips through his lips. "You like that? Being nothing but a hole for me to use?" You whimper, hiding your face in your hands as your hips meet Jake's fingers, only for his hand to slip out and land a sharp smack against your clit. You gasp, your legs threatening to close as Jake bullies his shoulders between them, his fingers slipping back into you with practiced ease.

"You can't call, you can't text, and now you can't speak. Forgive me for thinking your brain would work for anything." He rolls his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush at his own words. The two of you had never explored this, only sweet nothings and soft praises expressed between you, even a soft slut thrown in if the night was especially raunchy.

"I'm sorry, Jake, I'm sorry." Your thighs are trembling on his shoulders, and he scoffs against your skin. "Yeah, yeah." 

He lowers his head, lips latching onto your swollen clit. His eyes flutter shut at the taste of you, his knees weak at the idea of having gone so long without it. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he curls his own upwards, the tug of yours making him moan into your wet cunt. Soft gasps of don't stop hitting his ears, and he knows he should be upset at you but it would take an entire army to pry him off you at that moment.

He feels you clamp down on his fingers, your back arching off the couch as he feels your release soak his face and hoodie, dripping down his fingers onto the carpet. He slurps at you eagerly, his fingers overstimulating you as you try to pull him away by his hair. "J-Jake, s'too much…" You trail off, not able to finish your sentence as he tongues at your clit with vigor, your thighs clamping shut around him. "One more, c'mon. One more, show me how sorry you are."

He hears you cry his name out softly, eyes looking up to see your head thrown back against the couch, chest moving up in shallow breaths. He kisses up your stomach, nipping as he moves up, his fingers never slowing their pace as he pushes your shirt up with his free hand, cool fingers palming at your chest. His fingers gently toy with your nipple, a soft groan from you as your thighs start to shake a bit harder.

"You're sorry, right?" He lifts himself to meet your face, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you nod. "You'll call or text when you're going to be late, right, angel?" "Yes." You whisper as his lips ghost over yours. "Yes, what?" "Yes, sir." Your eyes flutter shut, and he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Open."

Your lips part with a pathetic whimper of his name, before he gracefully spits onto your tongue. His lips press to yours quickly, suppressing your moans as his fingers pick up their pace, feeling your release drip all over his hand and the couch. "I love you, okay? I just get worried." His mumbles are soft in comparison to the degrading words he'd said earlier, and you can't bring yourself to speak back as you nod against his lips. You kiss him back slowly, putting all your energy into it. "I'm sorry." "It's okay. Are you okay? Let me get a towel, okay?"

You shake your head, carding your fingers through his hair and holding him close. His fingers slip out of you, a dull ache between your thighs as he taps your knee. "Baby, c'mon." "Please." You murmur against his lips, and he feels a flustered smile taking over as he shakes his head. "Jay'll be back soon–"

"Oh, come on." Jay's voice rings through the air, and Jake looks up to see the guy covering his eyes as he runs into the kitchen. Jake's ears burn in embarrassment, only to feel you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie. "Please, Jakey." "Jay–" "You said you didn't care earlier. Why do you care now?" You pout, canting your hips against the tent in his shorts, watching his eyes flutter shut and his lip tucked between his teeth. "You're so–" "Can you guys please take it elsewhere?" Jay whines from the kitchen, and you snort. Jake sighs inwardly, awkwardly rooting around for your sweatpants before finding them just beneath him, entirely soaked.

"Fuck." He shoves the material up your legs anyway, before wrapping your legs around his waist, lifting you up carefully as Jay peeks out the kitchen. "I assume I'm in here alone for the rest of the night?" You smile at him over Jake's shoulder, "Unless you want to join."

Jake stops, looking over his shoulder at one of his oldest friends. Jay's face looks a bit conflicted, his brows furrowed but cheeks pink with embarrassment. Jake's throat clearing garners the older man's attention, a small smile on Jake's lips.

"You wouldn't say no to your best friend on his birthday, would you?"

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[kazumist]

happy happy happy birthday kaveh

[kkai-zen]

˖⋆࿐໋ you're sexy, i'm sexy!

summary: how do the blue lock boys meet you and get your number and/or a first date?

featuring: [separate] gn!reader x itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku & michael kaiser

contents: anime only spoilers!! fluff!, awkward-cute rin, drunk guy tries to flirt with reader (in oliver's), cheating ex-bf (kaiser), suggestive (kaiser), sae plays for re al, kaiser plays for bastard münchen

wc: 3.2k

a/n: this one took me a while to write! i decided to try writing for oliver for the first time, so lmk if i should write more for him :) also, thank you guys so much for 100 followers! sending you all much love~ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

⟢ itoshi rin...

Sees you, his new physical therapist, and almost falls in love at first sight.

Soccer is the most important thing to him, so why is it that his heart speeds up when you turn the corner?

(He swears his kick accuracy decreases when you watch him play, and it drives him crazy.)

He tries to push you out of his mind for months before even thinking about asking you for your number.

You’re wondering why Rin is sweating bullets during your latest session with him, but you think nothing of it until he gruffly asks for your number, holding out his phone. 

“Huh? You want my number?” 

You stare at him for a moment, a small smile slipping onto your lips. He nods, averting his gaze. “Oh! Sure, but- don’t you already have it?” 

Rin’s heart stops. 

“Huh?”

“...huh?”

Rin goes home that night so mortified that he can’t fall asleep.

Of course he already has your number, he curses in his head, tossing and turning in his bed. You’re his physical therapist, after all. It’d be natural to have already received your contact information from a manager or email or something of the like.

He can’t even look you in the eyes the next morning when he sees you, standing so pretty at the sidelines. Swearing as he misses a goal, ball slamming into the goalpost with a bang!, Rin catches your gaze and what’s left of his focus vanishes.

Before you know it, Rin’s striding off the field, towel slung over his shoulders. Mouth opening, you walk towards him—only for him to brush past you and disappear into the locker room. You frown.

A week goes by, and Rin is still ignoring you.

You sigh, scrolling through your phone. He’d been canceling sessions more often than not, you sulk. But at least he’s stopping by today.

“Your neck and shoulder muscles are tense,” you murmur, feeling around his upper body. Naturally, Rin stays silent, and you hesitate before saying, “Rin? Are you feeling okay? You haven’t been showing up to sessions as often, and you haven’t been…as concentrated during pra-”

He suddenly slams his hands down on the massage table he’s laying on, pushing himself up to face you, and you stumble backwards. Almost falling to the ground, you feel Rin’s muscular arm wrap around you, unexpectedly pulling you into his warm chest before placing a chaste kiss on your lips. 

Face flushed a bright pink, he stares into your wide eyes for a moment longer before promptly dropping his arm from your waist and speeding towards the door. “H-hey, Rin- wait!” You call after him, heart pounding in your ears, but he doesn’t stop. Chasing him down the hallway, you finally catch up to him, out of breath as you step in front of his broad body. 

Rin’s face is still bright pink. “Get out of the wa- mmpf!”

His eyes widen as you grab his cheeks, pulling his lips onto yours forcefully, kissing him until he’s out of breath. By the time you pull away, you’re both flushed, panting, and staring at each other with twin looks of nervousness. Rin forces his eyes away before mumbling a quiet,

“Saturday. I’ll pick you up at 7.” 

⟢ itoshi sae...

Sees you in the crowd during one of his games, wearing a jersey for the rival team.

You’re far too pretty to be cheering for those half-baked losers, he thinks, when the game ends 4-1.

(obviously Sae’s team, Re Al, wins.)

He finds you after the game, sulking at your team’s loss while waiting for one of your friends in the bathroom.

Sighing, you turn your head away from the large TV screens replaying highlights from the earlier game. You can’t believe Re Al won that hard against your team, you sulk. But you have to admit, some of the plays made by Re Al’s midfielder were incredible. What was that guy’s name again? Sei? No, it was-

“My name’s Itoshi Sae. Could I get your number?”

You look up from the floor to the calm voice, and you have to clench your jaw to keep it from dropping open. Re Al’s genius, pink-haired (very handsome, you decide) midfielder is standing right in front of you, phone held out. 

You stare at him for a moment longer before stammering out a “S-sure!” and taking his phone, typing your number into the contact information page and handing it back to him. He’s about to turn away, but before he can, you blurt out, “You made some amazing plays this game.”

Sae stops, teal gaze meeting yours with a certain intensity. Of course I did, he almost says, but stops himself last minute. “Thank you,” he utters instead. “But I can’t help but notice you’re a fan of the other team,” he continues, eyeing your jersey. 

You hesitate, turning a little pink. “I mean- yeah, I guess so…” you mumble reluctantly. “But y’know, I can still recognize and appreciate other good players.” You fidget with the hem of your jersey, blush steadily creeping over your face as Sae’s unwavering stare bores into you. 

You suddenly feel something warm settle over your shoulders, and you’re shocked to find Sae’s Re Al jacket draping over your figure. “Wear this to the next Re Al game,” Sae murmurs, fingers brushing across the fabric. “The next Re Al game? The one in France?” You say in disbelief. “Mhm,” he responds casually. “I’ll fly you out, if you want.” 

“I-I mean, sure, I’d be honored, but-” you begin, dumbfounded, but he’s tapping away at his phone already. “I’ll text my manager about it then,” Sae affirms, speaking in a matter-of-fact voice that left no room for argument. “Sure thing!” You force a smile over your shocked face. 

You’re sure nothing he can do will surprise you at this point—asking for your number, giving you his jacket, offering to fly you out to France, of all places.

But when he leans forward, breath hot against the shell of your ear whispering, “See you soon, gorgeous,” before walking away, your heart nearly bursts out of your chest. You manage a weak wave, eyes wide, slumping over against the wall in a red-faced daze when your friend walks out of the bathroom. 

“Hey, I just remembered! There was that one really hot midfielder- huh? What happened?!” 

⟢ nagi seishiro...

Runs into you in the manga section at a bookstore Reo dragged him to.

He notices you, standing on your tippy-toes trying to reach a volume on the top shelf.

He thinks that you’re so cute!

Usually wouldn't have done anything to help (since it’d be a hassle), but he notices you’re reaching for a volume of Bonobono, his favorite manga series that he also happens to be looking for...

You huff, hands on your hips, staring up at the final volume of Bonobono sitting on the top layer of the shelf. After two failed attempts, you’re still determined to get it, stretching out your arms in anticipation for your next try. But before you can reach up again, a lean, lengthy arm is reaching up to pluck it off the shelf with ease.

Huh? Spinning around, you come face-to-face with a broad chest, almost slamming into it.

Stumbling backwards into the bookshelf, you stare up into the stranger’s gray eyes. He’s cute, you think, blinking up at him. But when he vanishes with the final volume of Bonobono in hand, you’re fuming.

“H-hey! Come back!” You dart after him, following the head of fluffy white hair through the bookshelves.

When you finally catch up to him, out of breath, you point an accusing finger at him. “I was gonna get that!” You say with indignation, eyebrows furrowed. “So? I got it first,” he responds lazily. 

“Wha- shouldn’t you at least offer to give it back? You knew I was reaching for it!”

“…I still got it first though.”

“You-!”

Making a jump for the volume in his hand, your fingertips brush the corner of the book that he quickly pulls out of your reach. But rather than landing gracefully back on your feet, you land right on top of his feet. 

With a yelp, you grab onto the front of his hoodie to balance yourself but end up toppling backwards, crashing into the bookshelf behind you, pulling the white-haired stranger along. 

“Ugh…” you groan, eyes squeezed shut and head spinning. “Why couldn’t you have just given me the volume…” You feel a heavy weight on your body, peeking your eyes open to see the stranger pressed flush against you, face inches away from your own. 

“I told you, it’s mine.” 

Something about the way he says it sends shivers down your spine, and fortunately unfortunately, it reminds you of how handsome the stranger really is. “You got us in this position, so shouldn’t you do something to fix it?” He murmurs, edging his face ever so slightly closer to yours. The intimate proximity steals your breath away, and you feel your face burning with heat. “Uh-”

But he suddenly pulls away, and your heart throbs when the weight of his body dissipates. He turns around and you’re worried that he might run off again, but he fiddles with the volume of Bonobono before handing it to you. 

“See ya round, cutie.” 

You gape at him as he walks away, completely stupefied. You’ll never see that handsome stranger again, you think, and you can’t help the disappointment that sparks in the pit of your stomach. 

But when you crack open the cover and see a phone number scrawled messily on the first page, you can’t help the smile that peeks out on the corners of your lips.

⟢ mikage reo...

Meets you after you spill a cup of coffee on his shirt when you’re speeding to work.

Apologizing profusely, you grab handfuls of napkins and stuff them into his hands before racing off.

Reo is instantly charmed, thinking you’re so cute with your blushing face and flustered demeanor.

He comes back to the cafe every single morning for a week straight, searching for you. 

Almost gives up hope when, on a Friday morning…

What am I doing…Reo stifles a yawn. He’d been chasing after you since the fateful day you quite literally ran into him, hooked on finding out who you are. And now, here he is, sitting in a cafe at 7 AM hoping that you’ll magically stroll through the door-

Ding-ding!

The bell hanging at the door jingles when you walk in, every bit as beautiful as he remembers. Gawking at you for a moment as you order (a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso, he mentally notes), Reo can barely believe you’re standing right there before he leaps up, strolling towards you with an unhurried confidence.

You seem to be in a lot less of a rush this time around, waiting patiently for the barista to finish making your order as you check the time on your phone. 

“Excuse me?”

You look up, and Reo can feel his cheeks flush the faintest pink when he meets your gaze.  Before he can continue, your eyes light up with recognition. “Oh! You’re the guy I ran into last week!” You exclaim, embarrassment rushing to your face. “I’m so sorry about that…” you apologize profusely. 

“Ah, no worries, I wasn’t going anywhere important anyways,” he replies with a laugh. “Could I maybe buy you a drink, to make up for it?” You offer, and he chuckles. “No need, I don’t drink coffee.”

Cocking your head, you fix him with a look of confusion.

“You- don’t drink coffee?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh- then, what do you usually order here?” 

“Nothing.”

“Oh…um, do you just like the environment?”

“It’s not bad, I suppose.”

“A-ah, I see…”

You laugh nervously. “Are you wondering why I come here, then?” He asks, mirroring the tilt of your head. “Yeah, guess so,” you mumble, fidgeting with the sleeve of your top.

“Well, the simple answer is you.” 

Huh? You freeze. Is he messing around? Almost laughing, you stop yourself only when you see the seriousness in his eyes. “I- I’m sorry?” You stammer out.

“I come here for you. I’ve wanted to talk to you since the day we ran into each other.” Reo says casually, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I wanted to ask if I could get your number, and maybe buy you a coffee sometime.” And he holds his phone out to you.

Blushing furiously, you take the phone with trembling fingers, entering your phone number and name into his contacts. “Yeah, that sounds great!” You manage, breathless. “Perfect. See you soon, then.” He beams at you and your heart melts in your chest.

“Yeah, see you soon!”

⟢ oliver aiku...

Sees you at the club, sittin’ pretty next to some creep who won’t stop bothering you for your number.

He’d been eyeing you for a while now, nursing a drink while sitting next to his rowdy teammates.

Decides to intervene when the drunk tries to put his hands on you.

Buys you a drink after the creep leaves, and strikes up a flirty nice conversation with you.

For some odd reason, he’s getting nervous talking to you...

“C’mon beautiful, just gimme your number,” the creep next to you belches, toothy grin widening. Wrinkling your nose, you lean away, the smell of alcohol on his breath burning your nose. “Uh- no thanks.” you mutter, disgusted at the guy. “Hey now- I’m a great guy!” He chortles drunkenly, and with a terrifying amount of audacity, suddenly reaches over to grab your arm.

“What the fu-?!” Snatching your arm back, you glare daggers at the guy who’s babbling on and on about bringing you back to his apartment. But before you can slap the guy—who’s now reaching for your thigh—a strong, broad hand grabs his wrist in a vice grip.

“You heard the lady. Get outta here, man.” 

You bring your attention to the deep voice, taken aback by the shiny heterochromatic eyes you see. 

“Hey, this isn’t your busi- urk!” The creep yelps as the stranger seizes the collar of his shirt, dragging him out of his seat. “I said, get lost.” He repeats coldly, pushing the drunkard backwards, who—with a squeak—promptly scurries away. Finally relaxing with a sigh, you readjust your top before turning to the stranger. 

“Thank you so much for dealing with that,” you say with relief. “No problem,” he smiles at you. “My name’s Oliver. Mind if I buy you a drink?” You huff out a laugh. “Please do.”

He takes the spot next to you, and suddenly, you don’t mind the proximity of the seat. “So, what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ out here all alone?” He asks smoothly, leaning forward. You raise an eyebrow. “Do you usually use cheesy one liners to pick up girls?” You reply with a snort, taking a sip of the drink he ordered you. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to get into my pants like the last guy.”

He stares at you for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Man, what a response,” he grins. “Can’t lie, that’s what I was going for. But now you’ve got me thinkin’ otherwise.”

“Thinking otherwise?”

“Yup.”

“...about what?”

“About how much I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

You pause. Eyes skimming over his figure, you realize how attractive Oliver actually is; tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular underneath his half-unbuttoned dress shirt, he’s exactly your type. 

You look into his eyes, tilting your head, before giving Oliver a smile that has his heart thumping strangely loud in his chest. “Hm. Buy me another drink, and then we can talk,” you say slyly, and he laughs again. “Whatever you want, pretty.”

And when you’re having easy conversion with Oliver over your umpteenth drink, you slip him your number written neatly on a napkin. 

“Bring me somewhere nice, ‘kay?” 

“Like I said, whatever you want, angel.” 

⟢ michael kaiser...

Notices you in the lounge of the fancy hotel he’s staying at, where you explain that you're trying to catch your boyfriend cheating.

Thinks you’re being ridiculous until some bonehead walks out of the elevator with a girl on his arm.

Part of him is glad you caught the cheating prick just so he could ask for your number.

You’re way too pretty for that guy, anyways.

(The girl on his arm is ogling Kaiser, too, just to add the cherry on top).

Blowing a strand of hair out of your face, you tap your foot impatiently waiting for your boyfriend—well, about-to-be-ex-boyfriend—who had apparently forgotten to turn off his location tonight. You already had suspicions that he’d been cheating on you for some time, and tonight is the night you decide to end things with that scumbag. 

You’re standing, staring at the elevator so intently that you don’t even notice the blonde-and-blue haired man sitting behind you with narrowed eyes.  “What on Earth are you waiting for?” He sighs to you, rubbing his temples. “The tapping of your foot is bothersome.” 

You turn, frowning. “Waiting for my cheating, soon-to-be-ex boyfriend to come out of the elevator.” 

“Seriously?” Kaiser is baffled. Firstly, you’re far too pretty for someone to cheat on you, he thinks. But secondly— “Why would you waste your time on the guy? Just break up and move on. Besides, what if he’s not even here?”

But suddenly, you both hear a ding!, and the elevator doors glide open to reveal your shitty (now ex-) boyfriend prancing out of the elevator, with some disheveled, barely dressed girl on his arm.

“Huh? Babe? What are you doing here?” Your ex gapes at you, suddenly snatching his arm away from the girl’s body. You scoff. “What are you doing here?” You spit back, eyes flicking between him and the girl. 

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I promise!” He swears, walking towards you. “Look, I-”

“Man, just shut up.”

Kaiser’s voice is cold, slicing right through his words. You hadn’t realized that he’d stood up right behind you until he slides a lean arm around your waist, tilting his head at your baffled ex. “Why does he look so surprised, my love?” He murmurs to you, just loud enough for your ex to hear. “You didn’t tell him that we’re together?”

You blink up into his cool blue eyes, swallowing with a dry throat. “I- I guess not,” you mumble. “Mm. I guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson when we get back to our room, sweetheart.” He smirks, and you flush red with the implication. 

“W-wait! Are you- Michael Kaiser? That famous soccer player from Bastard München?” The girl next to your ex gasps, eyes wide. Kaiser’s smirk only grows wider. “I am.”

Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my-! Can I- get your autograph? And, um- ” A smile toys at her lips. “Maybe, I could get your number, too?” She twirls a strand of hair between her fingers, batting her lashes at him. You nearly burst out laughing at her audacity.

Your ex’s jaw drops open. “Wha- but- you- ” he stutters at her, and Michael only offers a bare smile. “I’m already taken.” He squeezes your waist tighter, guiding you into the elevator. “Let’s go, angel.”

Puzzled, you let him walk you into the elevator, and as soon as the doors close, you expect him to pull his arm away—but he doesn’t. 

“Now, ready to learn your lesson, sweetheart?”