#also cotton candy is so clearly like a pair the spares thing

[maretriarch]

my most controversial hs opinion (fact) is that jane has always been an entirely heterosexual woman she just has a pixie cut and wears capris and people think thats butch. it was 2012. the little mustaches were a straight woman Thing

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 19

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 19

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4274

Summary: Life settles into routine as summer comes in Wisconsin.

Warnings: FLUFF, swearing, some smut

           You’d never been so aware of the date after that, somehow feeling like you’d reset your circadian rhythm to know precisely how long two weeks was. Mercifully on the part of the universe, Dean had been right about the lack of reset function as long as you stayed within the same mind; once, just to try, you had entered Sam’s dream and found that Sam Barbie and Sam Mike hadn’t met Dean yet.

           At Dean’s request Sam put a huge amount of effort toward ‘being normal,’ integrating into the community in a more purposeful way. You became friendly with a couple cheerful hairdressers from the salon in the next town over when they started coming to the bar for after work drinks and Sam began getting invited to the poker games Steve hosted. One of your favorite of these new habits was going to the farmer’s market dutifully every week. It reminded you every time of how simple this new life was, where you had spare mental capacity to think about whether you wanted nectarines or peaches because there was no terror dangling just overhead. It also helped distract you from all-consuming thoughts of seeing Dean on alternate Sunday nights, the way your body felt like it vibrated with anticipation for the few days before.

           The two of you had been going for months by the first market in July, long enough to know all the first names of the regular vendors and greet them as you went. You were feeling somehow even more acutely anxious-excited at the upcoming Sunday, Dean having told you both last time that he had a surprise planned. It encouraged you to give more of a concerted effort to linger at every single booth, extend every single moment of killed time you could get from the outing. Sam let you lead the way, ring and pinky finger loosely linked into yours as you walked up and down the aisles of tents and tables in the overgrown gravel parking lot. He had a canvas bag half-filled with beets, green beans, some local honey, and a small carton of apricots. You paused to lean into his chest, waiting for Sam to bend down and kiss you in front of a table of essential oils decorated with macrame. The next one caught your eye, some hand-hewn jewelry, and you pulled him gently along.

           “What do you think?” you asked, holding up some earrings clearly too gaudy to match your style with an exaggeratedly fashionable face.

           “I think those really capture your essence, yeah,” Sam smiled.

           “Or maybe this?” You slipped your hand into a heavy bangle absolutely covered in turquoise that felt like wearing an ankle weight.

           He hitched the bag up on his shoulder and watched the show you put on for him, sweeping some hair back from your neck to let you see a set of earrings in the tiny mirror on the table. His gaze flicked over the wares and he gingerly picked up a small gold band from a tray. It was probably the most understated piece on the table, and definitely the one most likely to fit with the no-nonsense jewelry you tended to wear—the things you were drawn to being more sentimental reminders than ostentatious presentation, intended to be put on once and never taken off.

           “I think this one looks the most like you,” Sam hummed, offering it up for you to try on. The band was medium-thick with rounded comfort edges and when you slipped it on it fit perfectly, just barely tight enough to feel exactly secure on your finger. He was right; it looked good on your hand like you had re-found an old piece that you’d lost, and you considered it for a second before you realized Sam was talking to the woman behind the table as she finished a transaction with a trio of teenaged girls getting matching woven bracelets.

           “That one’s part of a set,” she cooed over to him, her hands resting in a homemade apron covered in embroidered flowers. “They should really go to the same home.”

           You were impressed at Sam’s ability to keep himself from rolling his eyes at that kind of faux sentimental bullshit, but she had already turned her back to you, rifling in another box under the plastic table. She turned around with a larger copy of the ring and darted out, grabbing Sam’s hand quickly enough that he almost stumbled forward as she started to slip it onto his finger.

           “Oh, I don’t really wear jewelr—” he started helplessly.

           “See? Meant to be, it fits perfectly.” She clasped her hands in front of her chin excitedly, beaming over the table at you and Sam. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his face as he tried inconspicuously to get the ring off.

           “Um—wow, that’s really on there—how much for that one?” Sam asked, awkwardly pointing to the ring on your finger with his pinky as he kept working to try to get his off.

           “$50 for the both of them.”

           “Even the one has gotta be more than that,” he insisted, based on the displayed prices of the gaudy jewelry you’d played around with.

           “I’d feel better knowing they were being appreciated together than I would with the money.”

           You looked up at Sam with the kind of melting cotton candy look you felt like had been plastered to your face for weeks, soft and gooey and something you would’ve made fun of a stranger for. He abandoned trying to get the ring off and tongued a molar before pulling out his wallet and dropping 5 $20 bills on the table, pushing them across with the customer service smile he used at the bar. “Thank you, they’re, uh, they’re beautiful.”

           She only unclasped her hands to stuff the bills in the apron, mouthing a “thank you” at the extra money and winking at Sam as the two of you walked away from the booth.

           “Should we get you a big chain? Or I could pierce your ears with an ice cube and an apple back at the cabin,” you teased, getting used to the way the ring felt on your hand.

           Sam couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes over a smirk. “I really can’t get it off.”

           “I think maybe you just wanted to match me.”

           He stopped walking and you spun around to face him, gazing up into his hazel eyes. “Matching you isn’t so bad.”

           “Oh yeah?” You watched as a slow smirk spread across his face and he looked down at his feet between you. “Thank you, by the way. I really love it.”

           “Just think you, um, deserve nice things.” A little color rose in his cheeks, and there was something so unbelievably sweet about it, being shy with you of all people. You had to press up to your tiptoes and pull Sam’s neck down to kiss him, but it was perfect, the light northern chill that sometimes drifted through the air even in July reminding you of your first kiss on that sledding hill except now it was your hand on Sam’s neck, blood seeping warm and loose through every capillary rather than the cold throb of anxiety you’d had then. With his lips on yours, delicate metal on your finger, and the earthy smell of the fresh produce in the air, you tried to commit to memory how unequivocally good the moment was, how completely outside the realm of possibility this would’ve seemed a year ago. Sam’s hand slipped to your lower back and pressed you to him. “Wanna get out of here?” he murmured into your ear, and it was all you could do not to jump him right there as you wound your fingers in his and wove through the booths to get back to the Impala.

           “Baby—you’ve gotta—fuck, I’m driving,” Sam laugh-moaned, shifting his hips just a little up into the hand you danced along the fly of his jeans.

           You leaned across the bench seat and licked the faintest trail up his jugular vein. “Then pull over.”

           His eyes closed deeply for a beat and hard swallow as he took a deep breath and took a right turn into what was likely a private driveway. It was a calculated move; probably not visible from the rural highway but if the people living here—the place sure to be occupied on a July weekend even if it wasn’t year-round—decided to leave they’d catch an eyeful of graphic roadblock. Knowing he was willing to take the risk made your heart race even faster, and Sam had barely thrown the car into park before he was on top of you, hand in your hair and tugging back roughly to bite-suck at your neck so hard and delicious you gasped before even realizing.

           He grinned into your skin as he kissed you. “Gonna—tease me—like—that? After looking so good—being so sweet—all morning?” You slid your hands in his hair and pulled back, crashing into his mouth and tasting the honey he’d sampled with you at the farmer’s market. You hooked your leg around his hips and rolled up into him, almost salivating at the firm length of him against you and the friction of the denim. He pressed you flat to the bench seat and started working the buttons of your shirt, so lightning-fast he ripped one of the last ones clean off, sending it skittering across the dashboard as it flew. “Sorry,” he smiled as you bit his lip, not looking very sorry at all.

           When your top was finally open Sam tugged at your bra, bypassing the clasp altogether in favor of exposing your nipples above it, somehow grazing his teeth and breathing cool air over them at once to send goosebumps flushing all over your body. You tried to undo the buttons of his shirt somewhat unsuccessfully for a moment before Sam leaned back and yanked at the back of his collar, tossing it in the backseat without looking as you flicked open his belt buckle and jeans. You grabbed either side of the open belt and tugged, making Sam’s chest press against yours and giggling into his lips at his tiny “oof,” when he fell forward onto the seat, throwing his arm out to avoid landing on you with his full weight.  

           With his torso against yours, he kissed you like he was gorging himself on candy; hungry and playful as you pushed and pulled against each other until you guided his cock out of his boxers and circled the tip with your thumb. Sam whimpered softly, just once and softly enough you might’ve thought it was a sharp inhale, but the broken concentration was enough for you to catch him off guard and shove him back on the seat across from you. He stretched back against the leather and door, pleasantly surprised behind widened pupils as you quickly got out of your shirt/bra tangle and kicked off your boots. It could’ve been some kind of pseudo-pornographic ad, Sam with tousled hair and undone jeans up against the door of the Impala, taut skin and muscles of his abs on full display as his arms spanned an impossible amount of the windowsill and seatback. If you’d had the self-restraint, you might’ve taken an extra second to soak it in, but as it was you pounced on him the moment the fabric of your clothes left your hands, slipping your fingers under his waistband enough to expose his cock and immediately sliding it into your mouth, hands still working to get him further out of his jeans.

           Anyone else making the sound he did would never have had the same effect, but the gravelly moan your tongue forced out of him dissolved you into jello and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. Rhythmically working the spit-slick between your mouth and hands, you dragged your head up to look Sam in the eyes, heavy tip of him weighing down your bottom lip as you spoke. “Hold my hair?”

           Sam’s eyes went fuzzy and dark as his eyebrows raised into a dazed smile, gathering your hair in a huge palm and making that amazing noise again as you slid all the way down him, nose grazing the dark hair on Sam’s abdomen. After a few minutes his hips bucked a little under you, Sam beginning to writhe on the leather. “Fuck, that feels so goo—hold on, wait,” Sam stammered with sex-frayed vocal cords, using your hair to tug you to his mouth and suck your tongue. The sensation stunned you for a moment but you could’ve stayed there forever, held up in his palm and flayed open for Sam to take.

           He trailed down your jaw and pulled firm when you tried to turn into his kiss. “Out of your jeans. Now.” You could feel the smirk against you and immediately started shimmying them off, loving this new edge to Sam, able to fully appreciate the grit knowing how soft he would be if you showed even the slightest hesitation. When you’d gotten the denim about halfway down your thighs he put a strong hand on your hip and flipped you over in the seat, your cheek flush against the glass of the window where he draped over your back like a predator. “Don’t. Move.”

           The shudder was involuntary but it was covered by Sam practically ripping the jeans the rest of the way off your legs and subsequent hoisting your hips into the air as he shifted your knees up to the leather, your chest pressed against the door of the Impala as you looked back at him. You didn’t have any warning when Sam slipped his tongue inside you, shooting your arm out to grab for anything to stabilize yourself and ending up with a handful of seatbelt. Your calf curled up as he worked those sensitive nerves, swirling a thumb into your clit as he went. Sam locked the freed ankle with an iron grip. “I said don’t move.”

           You whimpered and whispered dirty nothings you wouldn’t have been able to remember with a gun to your head until he smacked your ass hard enough you knew there’d be a red facsimile of his hand on you, and then you completely fell apart, shuddering and melting into the door. Sam crawled up behind you, chest flush to your back, and bit your earlobe. “I. Said. Don’t. Move.” You could hear the playful challenge in it and that made you even more crazy for him, wiggling under his weight a little involuntarily. He didn’t make you wait too long, pushing into you until his thighs pressed to yours, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm forward.

           “Holy shit, Sam,” you breathed. You could feel your muscles flex and relax experimentally around him.

           His tongue flicked around your ear as he pounded into you. “You’re so fucking hot, baby—can’t believe you’re my girl. Are you my girl?”

           The sounds you made were vaguely affirmative but to be honest, Sam’s rocking into you was pretty effectively scrubbing your mind clean of coherent thought.

           “Tell me. Say my name,” Sam murmured, voice low with sin against your spine.  

           “I’m your girl, Sam—your girl, I’m your girl Sam, I—holy shit—” you moaned as he picked up the pace and circled a sucked-wet finger around your clit and then you hit that sweet, sticky spasm, hand splaying out wide on the window. Sam covered it with his, interlacing long fingers into yours and something about the way the metal of the two new rings clinked against each other was so tender even as you were being rammed into the door. A couple moments later he drew back with a tense groan, dressing your lower back with hot spurts of himself while his breath started to return with ragged shudders.

           “Jesus,” he sighed as he eased off of you, suddenly gentle again. “Oh—uh, here, sorry.” Sam extended a veined arm over the front seat to snatch his shirt from where it had landed and gently wiped off your back. You let the cool glass settle your racing heartbeat for a beat before sliding back to the seat and the small pile of clothes Sam had retrieved for you. It made you smirk a little to watch Sam’s internal struggle over what to do with the dirty shirt, deciding to toss it on the floor before refastening his belt shirtless like he was in some Country Hotties calendar—Mr. July indeed.

           You opted not to tie your boots as you’d only be walking from the car to the door and looked over at Sam once your feet were inside the loose laces. He opened and closed his mouth but couldn’t come up with any words, smoothing his hair nervously back into place and chuckling against a bitten lip.

           “Yeah, I agree,” you giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek before lacing your fingers together. “Do you want anything specific for dinner? We have a bunch of chickpeas, I thought maybe we could try making our own falafel.”

           He gazed back at you for a reverent second before turning the key in the Impala’s ignition. “I love you,” he smiled, throwing an arm over the back of your seat to reverse out of the woods.

           Tracing the angles of his face in the sunlight as he drove, you picked your joined hands up to kiss his knuckles. “I love you too.”

           After a few minutes of endorphin-filled silence, Sam turned to you. “So do you know what this surprise is Dean has planned for tomorrow night? I figured he’d have to tell you what it was going to be if you’re the one whose head it’ll be in.”

           “No clue. I thought at first maybe it was like, the Grand Canyon or something but ran into the same issue. Unless Cas’s taught him some new trick, he’s only ever been able to pull up places or things I already know—pick my brain for it, or whatever.”

           “Yeah, me too.”

           The air in the car held the content pensiveness for a few minutes of sunny road. There was no real heat behind it, just like there was no real heat in choosing between different rattan baskets of produce at the farmer’s market, and that same appreciation of the serenity itself washed over you. A surprise was just a surprise, not a potential threat, a date with Dean was just a date with Dean, no longer a finite, losable resource that had to be clawed at and fought for. You didn’t miss the heat. There was more than enough warmth in the sun streaming through the windows and Sam’s palm in yours.

           As it did frequently, Dean’s face in your driveway flashed in your mind, the memory somehow simultaneously old-picture washed out yet vibrant—could dreams even be memories? aren’t all memories dreams, in a way?—collar of his jacket flicked up against the cold as he said “you have to get good with this,” the flit of tongue you could see as he shaped ‘th’ enough to shape a painting class around, send a dozen art students into psychosis for inability to capture it. It had been so hard to figure out how the fuck he expected you to, how cruel it felt for him to ask it, and the only way you’d gotten your head around it was that same Dean Winchester Denial & Self Sacrifice Special and accepted it at face value. When he’d died you hadn’t felt like so many movies and books about tragic loss, where the strong but sensitive woman you’re supposed to relate to spent a few months in poetic sadness growing waifish and crying picturesque tears in solitude until she realized she could carry on.

           You couldn’t carry on.

           You couldn’t carry anything—were dragging yourself along in the most generous of descriptions, some half-dead, half-smashed zombie version of yourself clinging to any will to live like a barnacle out of devotion and need for Sam. Getting Dean back felt like life raft thrown into the water. You really had wanted to spend the rest of your life asleep and were more than content to ingest as much dream root as it would take to decompose into the cabin’s mattress next to Sam, let your landlord find your skeletonized bodies after a few months of unpaid rent. Fuck him, kind as he’d been to two strangers who’d needed help, and fuck hunters’ funerals for you and Sam if it meant you didn’t have to keep drowning.  Fuck Dean’s wishes especially, let him bend to someone else’s will for once.

           At first, maybe the first month after the dream root, only logistical reasons kept you from following through. What you wanted—needed, would’ve ruined the world for—was Sam and Dean together, and you couldn’t find a way to get Sam to agree no matter how obliquely or obviously you asked. He was unbelievably patient with you during this period of near-psychosis, and you suspected that a lot of the new habits he constructed, maybe including your beloved farmer’s market, were designed to keep you away from the greenhouse for as many hours a day as possible. You knew what he was doing, but the bright glare of panic in his eyes whenever you ‘joked’ about growing bigger patches of those little white flowers slowed down your singular focus enough to humor him, telling yourself it was just stalling until you could make your move.

           But damn if it hadn’t worked. Not that it stopped that tick-tick-tick in your brain counting down to Dean, but it made the days bearable. Just bearable, at first, the newness of your surroundings and the newness of Sam, all the things you hadn’t known about him after years of sitting inches away from each other in the Impala. And then it stopped being so much about fuck you Dean fuck getting good with you being gone and a little more about getting good with the way Sam’s hair dried if he went to bed right after showering, floppy, glossy loops and easy curls at the base of his neck; getting good with racing him down the rickety pier on the cabin’s shoreline, knowing he was letting you win and squealing all the way down anyway, jumping into the lake at dusk on Memorial Day with all your clothes on together as Sam cannonballed in behind you. Getting good with Sam’s arms around you as you both shuddered in the water, shrieking with laughter and a smile on his face of genuine, unbridled joy. Getting good with waiting for every other Sunday, because sometimes waiting was Sam bringing you a root beer float in your favorite mug while you read, and sometimes it was feeling him fall asleep against you while you scratched his back.

            Then getting good with the way it became less taboo to talk about him, being able to casually repeat old jokes of Dean’s without feeling like you were being stabbed in the chest or being terrified of sending Sam into a spiral. Getting good with memories of your old life together, your old friends, truly able to appreciate them. Because Dean was right, you had been ‘upset because you wanted something that didn’t exist.’ You could stay upset about it, stay so fucking mad about the unfairness of it all, that after all Dean had done—for you, for the world—that he was fucking gone, didn’t get to live in a cabin or have a couple daughters to braid Uncle Sammy’s hair—God, Dean saying that had haunted you maybe more than anything—and let it necrotize you from the inside out. Or you could let the ways he had permeated your very being serve as more commemoration than most people ever dream of, appreciate that the Impala still felt like an extension of him, see glimmers of the way he and Sam were still connected every day.

           And, of course, visit him at night to take the edge off, love him and kiss him and scream until you laughed. Annoying as it was to admit it, all that getting good slowly let you see what he’d been trying to open your eyes to in that driveway. You had so much more than anyone in the world. How stupid, how greedy, to have all of that and cut yourself off from anything else because it wasn’t exactly the way you wanted it to be. Looking back at it felt like watching a home video of yourself as a kid throwing a tantrum, but for ages, and you almost couldn’t believe Sam had stuck right by your side through it all, guided you gently and patiently even through his own battle. Sweet, beautiful, loyal Sam.

           As if on cue, he looked over at you. The sun poured through the windshield and shone off his hair like a halo, sparkled like glitter in his eyes. Someone who’d had a normal life would’ve said he looked angelic. But you had so much more than that, got to see both that golden hour was giving you a bit of a heavy-handed metaphor and that Sam was not only more than angelic, he was the whole world. He was the life raft all along, Dean’s Herculean return to you the lighthouse that let you see what had been there from the start, what had never left. His fingers tightened around yours a fraction. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

           The smile splitting your face felt like the first delicious stretch after sleeping in on a rainy morning. “Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without you.”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 20

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass​ @vxnderlindes​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @akshi8278​ @itsjensenanddean​ @flannellover67​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @tj-drinks-tea​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @winchest09​ @winchestergirl2​ @samwisethegr8​ @nobxdy​ @nurse-sarahrn​ @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love​ @tatted-trina6​ @deanwanddamons​@percico-heronstairs​ @downanddirtydean​ @winchestershiresauce​ @stressedoutkitten​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @lyarr24​ @waywardwifey​ @wonder-cole​ @sergeantsea​ @peachyafshawn​ @tjfinnigan​ @calaofnoldor​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @daringvixon​ @fairlyspnfanfic​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @samfreakingwinchester​ @lovelyrocker​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @theveridianmoon​ @underc0vercryptid​ @kpwatsonn​ @idreamofdeanie​ @romanna-crash​ @mimaria420​

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

[jeonggukkiepabo]

MOONCHILD 🌙  6

SUMMARY: Soulmates are a common thing. Everyone has one. Some people think soulmates are the greatest gift fate could give, others are envious about happy couples that were lucky enough to receive a wonderful partner. One of them was Min Yoongi. Your time to meet your significant other hasn’t come yet, stumbling into the tattoo parlor with a simple idea in mind, not knowing that you will be bound to step by more often. When you leave for the first time, you’ll go home with your masterpiece of a tattoo.

When you leave for the second time, you’ll go home with not only one, but two soulmates.

The man that was supposed to be your only soulmate, the one that never wanted to tell you that he woke up with the exact same koi karp tattoo just sits and watches - until he can’t take the pain anymore.

GENRE: Soulmate!Au

PAIRINGS: Y/N x Taehyung / Y/N x Jungkook / Taehyung x Jungkook / Taehyung x Jimin / Jungkook x Jimin / Hoseok x Seokjin / Y/N x Yoongi 

WORD COUNT: 8k

WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, fluff, kissies, deep talk with yoongi, mentions of heartbreak

Somehow, it was easier to warm up to Namjoon and Jimin than you thought in the beginning. It’s a weird feeling, growing comfortable around basically strangers, but it feels like you’ve known them since forever. Thinking about it now, you’d totally agree to what Jungkook and Taehyung said before: a bond isn’t something random and that it’s impossible to ignore it. To you, it feels just right, without any further explanations needed. You even stopped wondering why you always feel so at ease when one of your mates is around, why any fears seem meaningless when you’re with them.

Because you couldn’t be happier about the bond you shared with your four… now boyfriends. Your soulmates. The loves of your life. Of course, everything is still new for you and the group’s dynamics are still confusing to you, but as Jimin once said: you’ve got time. Things are getting easier every day and everything is falling into place slowly, allowing you to feel lighter every day. 

Soon enough, your spare days are consisting of either hanging around at the tattoo parlour or drawing in the bakery to at least spend some time with Jimin and Hoseok. You’ve grown closer to the latter, lucky to have a neutral person to talk to, someone unbiased when it comes to your lovelife.

He’s incredibly funny and you’d never complain about his teasing jokes, because you’re not the only victim; he’s unstoppable and your four boyfriends are his favorite target for his bickering. And Hoseok himself could only describe you with one word: endearing. He loves seeing you smile, loves to be the reason for your adorable reactions. The red haired man knows that he adores people way too much for his own sake, but you’re definitely one of a kind. He almost feels a soft lightning of jealousy whenever he notices how differently you brighten up once one of your soulmates comes into sight, but he’s quick to remind himself that he has an adorable soulmate on his own.

Hoseok even created a special cupcake flavor for you - a cotton candy cupcake with bubblegum frosting, pink and blue, melting on your tastebuds. 

“Hobi those are amazing!” You smile as you lick the frosting off your cupcake, sprinkles sticking to your nose as you do so. Hoseok grins, shrugging his shoulders as he places another one in front of you. “I know right? The bubblegum frosting kills it! This one is the last, though. I don’t want to feed you cupcakes all day long. They aren’t going to be special to you any longer if you keep eating several of them every day.”You pout, looking over to your boyfriend to save you. Surely someone will make Hobi cave right? No one can resist you; you always end up having what you want. 

“But I like your cupcakes, Hobi! Jimin, tell him that cupcakes are good for me. Some people might need vitamins, but I need cupcakes to live!” Jimin laughs, eyes disappearing as he holds up his hands in defence. Goodness, can you get any cuter? He can’t believe that their soulmate can be such a child sometimes. You’re worse than Jungkook and Taehyung and the three of you can become a dangerous trio.

“I can’t help it, peaches.” He walks over to you, bending down slightly to match your height. Then, he licks one fat stripe across your nose. 

“Jimin!” You screech at the disgustingly wet feeling, but your boyfriend just giggles, licking his lips slowly. 

“You had frosting on your nose, I couldn’t help it. Even though I have to say that I’m not a fan of the bubblegum.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you giggle quietly despite the sticky feeling not leaving your face.

“Yah! No sex in my bakery, Jimin go and do some dishes, mop the floor or do whatever you usually do at work!” Jin chimes in, gently slapping the back of Jimin’s head. You can’t help but laugh out loud as you notice Jimin’s dejected expression. He glares at you slightly, whilst you wiggle your eyebrow just like he did before. You get his “wait until we’re alone” message clearly and think that you might have to run away before his shift is done otherwise you might be in for a complicated time later.

“Karma, Minie. Thanks, Oppa! How are you doing, Jinnie? I haven’t seen you around in a while.” You smile sweetly, trying to distract him from your boyfriend before he gives him more work. The eldest sighs dramatically, showing you all the boxes he just carried inside the bakery. 

“I spent the weekend in my hometown to see my family, but also went to this kind of coffee expo, that’s where I got all that new stuff, coffee beans with rose aroma, different oils to infuse the coffee and pastry and even some of those little sprinkles Hoseok loves using - but those glow in the dark!”

You scrunch your nose worriedly. “Are those healthy?”

“Yah! Who cares about health if you can have cupcakes that glow in the dark? Sometimes you’re the worldwide funny girl, Y/N.” 

Jin laughs and shakes his head as he continues to carry the boxes into the storage room, mumbling how exciting those sprinkles are and that they were worth every cent. A big smile is plastered on your face and you’re sure it won’t fade anytime soon as you feel a warm sensation spreading through your entire body. This is one of your new safe places. You don’t know a lot about Seokjin and Hoseok, but they are possibly the nicest men you ever met (excluding your soulmates) and you often find yourself speaking with the two men, spending some quality time with them in the café. It feels like you’re a little family and you can’t help but giggle at the image that is now stuck in your mind; Jin being the loving grandma whilst Hoseok is the chaotic father that doesn’t even know his children’s friends' names.

“Hobi, please don’t put them on my cupcakes. I think Yoongi would love them though, they match his personality and that way you can test if they’re harmful or not.” You wink at the couple as you start collecting your belongings and shoving them into your backpack before returning your cup and plate to Jimin. 

“Thanks, Minnie. I’ll see you tonight, right?” You press a kiss onto his lips before turning around to Hoseok. 

“Hobi, help your man, you don’t have those strong arms for nothing! Thanks for the cupcake, I hope there’ll be more tomorrow!” Hobi laughs, shaking his head as he hands you a small bag of pastries for the boys in the parlour. You smile quickly before leaving. Jimin sighs behind, already missing your comforting presence.

“You have a lovely soulmate Jimin-ah.” Jimin perks up at the mention of you and he giggles quietly. Hoseok smiles at him, happy to see his friend so joyful, breathing happiness. Jimin has been glowing recently, and Hoseok knows who is responsible; and to be honest, he can’t really blame him.

“She’s the best”.

The days at the parlour are the most thrilling ones because Jungkook couldn’t stop suggesting to tattoo you, even if he’d only get to tattoo small little designs in hidden places. In the beginning, you were strictly against it, but his round doe-eyes combined with the adorable pout made it almost impossible to say no. And boy he knows it. He knows how to use his charms to make you cave in. So one day, you indeed gave in. 

“Fine,” you sighed, “but make me a small dinosaur, I want something cute on my ankle.” 

Firstly, he’s overjoyed that you said yes but then he replays the sentence in his mind and the thought is not so attractive anymore. Jungkook sighs, stomping his boot-cled foot on the floor. 

“A small dinosaur? Why not something more.. dangerous?” 

He can’t help but imagine you covered in his arts, only the prettiest pieces for you, and he can’t explain how much the thought arouses him. It has-scratch that-you have an effect on him that he can’t really comprehend. But… Come on, a small dinosaur? He expected better from you.

“I’m not dangerous, honey. I can still ask Yoongi to tattoo me one, though. If you’re not up for a challenge…” Smirking, you wait until he reacts, knowing that Jungkook would never say no to a challenge. 

But what’s making him silently snap is not really the challenge but the thought of someone else accessing your skin. No. He’s not going to allow that; it’s either him or Tae, but no one else. 

Behind you, Yoongi’s head pops out of the room he’s currently tattooing in. 

“I’d say no as well, I hate those minimalist tattoos,” he replies before closing the door again, leaving you more than confused.

Once you look back to Jungkook, he already prepared some small designs despite his complaints. There is no way he is letting someone else tattoo your perfect skin, so he prepared a little t-rex, a stegosaurus and a cute little triceratops. 

“The last one, the last one!” You clap your hands, excited for the new addition on your body. Jungkook grumbles, moving towards the desk to prepare a stencil.

“Get a girlfriend they said, it’ll be fun they said. Tae would never want a dinosaur tattoo from me.”

You frown, eyebrow raised as you look over to your boyfriend. 

“Are you saying you regret being my mate? Because last night when you had your dick between my boo-” 

“I didn’t say anything, calm down.” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he comes back to you again, pulling you into his own little tattoo corner. Sometimes you’re more dramatic than Jimin and he doesn’t know if he thinks it’s endearing or just slightly annoying. Usually, he goes for the first one.

Small tattoos were soon enough a weekly thing for you, sometimes Taehyung chimed in with an idea but it were mostly some scribbles from Jungkook’s sketchbook that caught your eye and were inked into your skin a few hours later. If the first dinosaur hadn’t really thrilled Jungkook, he began to adore these little additions to your skin somehow all fitting together. The two boys were getting protective of you and what you were getting on your skin, debating where and what to tattoo to make sure the whole would look pretty on you.

One day, Jungkook is just getting started to tattoo a little moon onto your wrist, next to the sun that he gave you last week when Yoongi comes into the parlour, cupcake and coffee in his hands. His eyes meet yours and for a second you see so many different feelings swirling in his orbs that you feel slightly uncomfortable, even with your boyfriend next to you. 

“Y/N, again? Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t have pulled you into the parlour. Don’t you have a workplace to be or another one of your several boyfriends to annoy? Jungkook, you need to charge her for all that material at some point, I’m not shitting money.”  The shop owner scoffs as he places his breakfast onto the front desk. You smile, ignoring his snarky remarks, because by now you know that all he does is bark but not bite. Yet, the gloomy feeling you have is not leaving your skin and you shiver for a second. Jungkook’s eyes snap to yours, worry written all over his features. You soothe him down as you feel his questions through the bond. Does he think he hurt you even though he still has not started the tattoo? 

“Oh, you got a cupcake from Hobi-oppa? Wait, is that the special one he makes for his friend? Poor soul, his friend didn’t pick it up again?” Jungkook giggles, having to pause the tattoo gun for a second to look at his Hyung’s reaction. He knows who the friend is and your confusion is just peak comedy. 

If only you knew what you had started.

Yoongi shoots him a warning glare before mumbling a “I’m the friend, you idiot”. It takes you a few seconds to understand what he just said and you realize why Jungkook is a giggling mess by now. 

Hoseok’s friend is Yoongi. 

Yoongi and Hoseok know each other and Yoongi picks up cupcakes on a regular basis even though he told you he wasn’t one for sweets. 

“You’re friends with Hobi? I’m sorry I didn’t know it was you otherwise I wouldn't have been that rude.” You smile sheepishly even though the blonde man seems to be ignoring you. “That’s so unexpected though, you’re grumpy and he’s a sunshine. I wouldn’t have guessed it, you must make an interesting pair. When worlds collide, huh” you chuckle as you watch Jungkook finishing the last line. “Thanks, bub!” You press a quick kiss onto his lips before he wraps your wrist, then you’re done. He knows that Yoongi is about to say more; the older is unable to finish a conversation without making sure that he has the last word, especially when it comes to Hoseok. Jungkook is not one to get involved where he shouldn’t, but sometimes he has questions that are burning his tongue even if she succeeds in keeping everything for himself. 

What you don’t hear is the painful sound coming from Yoongi as he watches you and Jungkook’s  bond playing games with him again. He’s been trying to deny that the bond hurt him when he sees you with someone else, but sometimes, it stings a little bit too much for him to ignore it. Your tattoo was still there, even after you accepted your other mates, so who was he kidding? He wasn’t even enough for you, he couldn’t replace any of those young men - not that he wanted to. You were annoying, too gigglish and beaut- always there, you were always there. Whether it’s the bakery or their parlour, your scent, your laugh and your voice are everywhere. It follows Yoongi and he hates every second of it. Sometimes he feels like Edward when he met Bella for the first time. Not that Yoongi watched Twilight. No. He has… just heard of it.

You are everywhere and he hates it. He truly wishes he had not dragged you into his shop because now you’re not leaving even though he’s doing everything to avoid you. 

But why does he even want you to be bothered? It's not like you mean anything to him, he has no reasons to expect a reaction from you right? Especially since you found other soulmates, far better than him apparently. You even spend more time with Seokjin and Hoseok than with him anyway. 

“Yeah, I’ve known him for quite some time now. Free coffee and cupcakes from time to time are a nice thing to enjoy.” 

Quite some time, sure, Yoongi thinks. What about your teenage years that you were inseparable? The crush you’ve had on him for ages? The one drunk kiss you shared the night before you turned 18? That drunk kiss could’ve activated the soulmate bond, but you chickened out and ran away like a baby, it’s your loss, bastard. Seokjin used his chance and what happened after that was obvious.

Yoongi turns his back to you to take a deep breath, his oversized shirt slowly moving down his shoulder and exposing his neck before he can do anything against it. He realizes his mistake a little bit too late even though he’s quick to turn around again, looking for any sign in each Jungkook’s and your face - obviously both of you realized something. He sees the confusion melting into a frown on your face and he cannot meet your eyes. This is happening, isn’t it?

“Why do we have the same tattoo, Yoongi?” 

The fact that he doesn’t even bother to answer is making you angry. Why the fuck does he has the same tattoo? You’re 100% sure of what you just saw, you look at this tattoo every morning before getting dressed. You know the lines by heart and it is not possible for you to mistake it by any means.

So why the fuck does he have your tattoo copied on his skin? Reasons and possibilities are flying through your racing and furious mind. You already imagine the worst. Maybe one of the boys even helped him? He cannot reach this place by himself. It means that someone else did it for him. Did one of your very own soulmates betray you like that? “I drew it myfuckingself and now you’re running around with a cheap copy of it? Who did it, Jungkook!” You’re on your feet, getting closer to the young man at a dangerously slow pace. Jungkook blinks at the sudden call of his name “Tell me. Did you or Taehyung help him?” He tilts his head obviously confused by what you are saying and it only angers you more. Is he playing dumb now? You know a tattoo when you see one and even though it’s not your job, you’re well aware that the place of the tattoo is not one someone can reach alone. Someone had to help. 

Jungkook is getting mad too as he starts pulling the puzzle together but he sighs, shaking his head. You are his priority, he has to get you to calm down first. You are a team, not against each other. “Neither Tae nor I knew about this, I’m as shocked as you are, love. We wouldn’t have done that, I promise you. A tattoo is far too personal for us to do something this low. Now though,” Jungkook glares at Yoongi, hands slowly balling into fists, obviously understanding what’s going on. Yoongi just smirks at him, happy to piss the younger off. “Don’t act up, Jungkook.”

At least Yoongi has the upper hand for now and if he can take a little advantage out of it, then he will. The angry face of Jungkook is too good to pass the opportunity. Though, Yoongi does not dare meet your eyes; he fears what he’s going to see if he does. 

“Act up? Why? What’s going on?” But both of them ignore you and this is only rilling you up. 

“You have some guts Yoongi, you still didn’t answer me!” You almost growl, looking at the white haired man whose lips are still holding that sassy smirk. He’s still not looking at you and the fact that he is ignoring you is pissing you off greatly. Who does he think he is?

“You knew about that and didn’t think it would be important to tell her?” Jungkook gets no answer so he goes on “you know what could’ve happened and yet, you didn’t tell her? She could’ve been in so much pain, you could have hurt her, don’t you fucking care at least a little? You rejected your mate without even telling her about it you fucking son of a bitch!” With one big jump, Jungkook was right in front of Yoongi, hitting him right into the stomach. 

But then, you realize it. The tattoo appeared on his skin because it became the link between you and him. Your bond reached him through the tattoo. 

Yoongi is your fucking soulmate and he obviously rejected you as he never talked to you about and seemed to be actively avoiding you. The thought alone causes you to shiver. You failed as a mate before even being given the chance to prove yourself.

You laugh darkly as your fears finally become reality. Four perfect mates who loved you and accepted you for who you were? This was only a story you find in books, not in reality.

 No, in reality you have five mates and one would rather be risking both of your lives (thus risking all of the others as well) than to try to speak to you about it. Your voice is caught in your throat when you realize that you’ve also put your four other mates in danger because of this. If you’d come to lose the bond with them, it could damage their bonds with each other and most probably could hurt them physically and mentally as well. The tears are hard to swallow, but you have to for now. You want to vomit when you remember what you’ve been told about mates rejecting their other halves. It’s unfair how your bond is manifesting only now when it never did even though it reached for Yoongi’s. Because it hurts so much you wish you had felt the pain before, just for it not to hurt as much as it does right now. 

You’re not really sure where the pain comes from but you’re lightheaded when you look at both men again. You see Yoongi on the floor and Jungkook’s rage is flagrant on his features. You never saw him that angry. You’re almost concerned for a few seconds but you laugh bitterly in your head. 

Are you that pathetic that one of your mates had to punch someone for you?

Even though Jungkook’s move is well deserved - and makes you feel somewhat better, because he seems to feel the anger you’re feeling as well - this isn’t his fight. You’re not one to enjoy fights. 

That’s not what you wanted.

Why have you been tied to all of them? It feels unfair. You’re only destroying what they have and not adding anything positive. Just looking at what is happening now, you only brought chaos.

Yoongi might not want you as a soulmate, that’s his own choice. It hurts, sure, but this has nothing to do with Taehyung or Jungkook because the tattoo happened before you were a thing. And now you’ve involved both of them, hurting both in the process and almost putting them in danger because of your bonds. You can’t let that continue, you have to find a way to stop everything.

Once you get a hold on Jungkook and are face to face with Yoongi’s cocky smirk, you can’t help the urge to just smack him across the cheek, tears spilling from your eyes before you leave into the locker room, knowing that Taehyung was just about to finish his break.

This is what Yoongi wanted, so this is what he gets. 

You have to leave, you have to find another place to be because you can’t breathe correctly. You feel Jungkook reaching through the bond but you’re trying your everything to refuse him access. How do you cut a bond without hurting someone? Is that even possible? 

You laugh over your thoughts as you notice that  you are trying to reach for comfort. What are you doing? Are you trying to leave or are you trying to seek for one of your soulmates? What are you trying to do? Feel validated by one of the four men you adore? What if it only made them realize what you are? You’re just a nuisance after all. You keep on ruining what they all have. Do you really deserve to be selfish once again and seek for one of them to comfort you? 

At least you know better than running to Jimin right now, because he would’ve told Namjoon, Namjoon would’ve called Taehyung and Taehyung would… You don’t even know what Taehyung would do, you don't even know what you are doing, you just don’t want to hurt or worry any of them, yet your mind is turning cloudy as you open the door and fall directly into Taehyung’s arms, bond reaching for his instantly. 

You feel pathetic. Running into your soulmates arms as soon as something is going wrong. You’re just going to worry Taehyung, which is going to worry Jimin, who is going to worry Namjoon and- And you can’t think anymore. 

Your mind is racing but you can’t focus anymore. The only good thing about finding Taehyung is that it’s better if he hears about what happened from you, rather than to understand everything by someone else. Besides, it feels a little bit soothing to have him close to you. You feel like you belong somewhere despite… Despite what Yoongi decided for you and for your bond. 

“Angel, what’s wrong? I can feel a lot through the bond, but it’s… Quite negative, what is happening?” Taehyung whispers as he strokes your hair carefully, embracing you in a warm hug that soothes your hazy mind a bit, but everything still feels suffocating. You just hope that your feelings aren’t fully communicated through the bond because you’re probably setting everyone in panic if so. You can’t contain your words but your labored breathing makes it difficult to actually explain what is happening right now to your confused soulmate.

 “Yoongi… he has my koi carp tattoo… He didn’t even tell me, god, Tae. Why me? He hates me, he so obviously h-hates me and now he’s mated to me as well? H-He doesn’t even want me and bad things happen to people that don’t accept the bond and it means that you g-guys are in d-danger because of m-me. God I r-ruin everything, I’m a-awful…” 

“Wha- shh, angel, slow down. You’re okay, you’re safe with me, alright? Don’t say those things about yourself, you're perfect sweetheart. You’re not ruining anything” Taehyung has to breathe a few times not to curse loudly and yell some pieces of his mind to his Hyung.

He respects Yoongi a lot, he has always been his mentor. But there are things that he does not tolerate and making his soulmate cry and panic that much is one of them. 

God, he has felt the urgency in his bond; you were trying to desperately find an issue. Had he not had his hands full of ink when the bond started to weigh his whole soul down, he would have flown to the lobby. He feels regretful for not throwing everything away in order to come to you. 

You and Jungkook are both way more precious to him than some disposable things. He knew something was wrong and he had tried to brush it off, thinking that you both were together and thus, nothing could happen to you. He should have followed his bond at the exact moment he felt something. 

Fucking shit, Yoongi is your soulmate? And he said nothing? What if something had happened to you because of his rejection of the bond? 

Taehyung is gritting his teeth; he has to calm down otherwise he’ll never soothe you down either. Yoongi is an asshole. Okay, he didn’t think that he would ever do something that low but he has to focus on you and soothing the ache in the bond. 

He tries to mentally erase the moment you started saying you were an awful soulmate because it is not helping him. He just wants to leave the room and find Yoongi. 

But Taehyung is an adult, he knows that acting rash won’t help.

He’ll get angry at Yoongi later.

“Jungkook is probably talking to him right now, even though I’m… Definitely not the biggest fan of his actions, Yoongi... I don’t really know if he does, but I think that Yoongi might deserve it right now. However, that’s Yoongi’s problem right now. You don’t have to endure it, nor to wait for him. It’s not because he is your soulmate that you have to think of him first, alright? Do you want me to take you home? Away from Yoongi? I don’t have any more clients, I should be doing some sketches but I can do those at yours if you want to. Think of yourself first for once, will you? If you feel like you have things to tell him, then we can stay, but I don’t want you to feel any kind of pressure for an idiot that didn’t even think of you in his decisions.” 

Tae kisses your forehead, but you shake your head no. 

“I have to talk to him about it. I want to know why he hates me so fucking much. Also, I want to return the right of having a soulmate, some people are overwhelmed with just one, now I have 4 and a half!” Taehyung smiles, proud of you. “That’s my baby.” His thumb runs on your cheeks, erasing the tears that escaped. 

“Whatever Yoongi chooses is not your responsibility, alright? It doesn’t change that we have a bond, the five of us and you are with us whatever happens, okay? You are an amazing soulmate, Angel. Don’t doubt it. The one who fucked up is Yoongi. Not you. Yeah?” 

You nod quietly against his palm and he kisses the crown of your head. You don’t feel quite ready to speak with Yoongi but you guess that you deserve to know the truth and the full story. He does owe you that, at least. 

It does surprise you that Jungkook and Yoongi weren’t fighting anymore once you came back into the lobby. Instead, they are seated on the couch and talking quietly, even though it’s more like a whisper-yelling from Jungkook’s side. You don’t really know how to feel, you’re confused and hurt obviously, but you’re going to have to be the bigger person and actually wait for him to explain if he wants to. Taehyung is reaching to you through the bond and you feel slightly more confident. You’ve been overwhelmed with so many feelings that you had begun to think about things that were so far from being the truth. Your mind just kept on escalating until you’d felt like nothing. You’ll have to thank Taehyung for grounding you. 

“Yoongi..?” You shyly ask as you make your way towards them - somehow afraid of the platinum blonde man. Biting your lip, you try to calm your anxiety down for at least the talk, but how could you without knowing how this day would end? 

You could either end up being heartbroken or happier than ever with a new mate, and with the way he always treated you, you don’t really feel like you have another happy ending incoming. It feels more like the start of the end. 

And besides, you thought about him only but Taehyung told you to think of yourself first: would you even accept him if he actually comes to tell you that he wants to pursue something with you? 

Would you let in someone who is not afraid to put everyone’s safety in danger just for selfish reasons? You’re trying to push the thoughts far from you for now. 

Live the moment and see what can happen: whatever happens, you’ll be able to say that you tried your best until the end. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi sighs and looks over to Taehyung, worry written over both their faces. You were just about to speak when Jungkook chimes in. 

“C’mon Tae, let them talk. I’ll explain everything to you.” 

The youngest stands up and presses a soft kiss onto your cheek before taking his boyfriends hand and walks back into the locker room. He sends you one last wink, silently cheering for you and you smile quietly. What do you have to fear when whatever happens, you’ll always have your soulmates cheering for you?

Yoongi swipes his hair out of his face, exposing his stern eyebrows before looking at you. God, he feels like an asshole. He knows that, technically, he has been one, but he never thought it would come to the point that he would knowingly hurt his soulmate. He always hides behind the fact that he’s in love with Hoseok, but that didn’t give him the right to hurt you. He should have at least told you…

“Sit down, please.” His voice is rough, almost exhausted but also sounds… painful? Distressed?

Slowly, you take place next to him, trying not to touch his leg, trying not to touch him at all. You’re still confused if you want to have anything to do with him to be honest with yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, barely whispering as you lower your gaze, avoiding his cat-like eyes that are probably full on judging you right now. 

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, watching you confused. 

“Why? You couldn’t have known that this would happen, I couldn’t know - otherwise I wouldn’t be doing that job. I mean, I’m the one that should be apologizing in the first place. I should have handled everything differently, and the only thing that I can do now is to explain, but… Yeah, the thing is, I don’t believe in soulmates.” He quiets down for a short amount of time, creating a break between his words to gauge your reaction, but you don’t seem to be that surprised.

For some reason, it doesn’t sit well with him. He knows he has done enough damages but he wishes for a reaction rather than your expressionless face. “I don’t think that fate should be the one to select your forever and always, do you get what I mean? Of course, I’m pissed about the fact that I got mated to you, but it’s not you that makes me hate being mated. You have done nothing wrong and I’ve been taking my frustrations out on you, and I know it’s wrong but... It’s just… I’m in love with some fucking stupid red haired baker that loves to add too many star-sprinkles on top of cupcakes and…” It clicks too easily in your mind as those words leave his mouth. It doesn’t excuse him, but you finally understand why everything has been this way.

“You’re… You’re in love with Hobi...” You didn’t expect it yourself, but a big grin takes place on your face as you clap your hands excitedly. Just the fact that you finally understand what is going on is making you- not really happy but - something along the lines. Once more, Yoongi is confused, it’s not the reaction he thought he would get. Not at all.

“Yes, but…  Shouldn’t you be mad or jealous or something? I mean, not that I expect you to be, I’ve been nothing but an ass to you, but, that’s how I felt once you got mated to Taehyung and Jungkook, even though it’s my own fault… If I hadn’t changed your appointment…” 

He catches how your glance suddenly changes at this information. You don’t seem to be mad, nor surprised, but you’re acknowledging what he says, as if you had already considered this idea. “Anyways, I mean…  Aren’t you mad that I don’t want to be your mate?” 

You shrug your shoulders, not sure what to answer. It’s quite a dumb question. Of course you are. Of course you are hurt. It feels like you’re not good enough for him. But… You try to understand his side, and you're not sure how you would feel if you had been in love with someone for like, forever, and you suddenly have to accept and love someone else. It seems like something that you would have had a hard time carrying yourself, so who are you to judge him, or to be mad at him? 

“It’s rude, I guess. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m the most wanted human on earth for sure. It kind of feels like I suck so much that my own soulmate doesn’t feel like they can care or love me. So, the question is kind of easy to answer, I’d rather say that it stings, but who am I to be mad at you? I see your point of view and I’ve already got four mates that are caring and loving - three more mates than I thought I’d have. I never thought that I would have more than one soulmate. I’m always surrounded with love when I’m with them, so I'd say that knowing that there’s another man running around with my tattoo - a tattoo that means so much to me - is just overwhelming, knowing that you don’t want me as a soulmate hurts, but I’ll get over it if that’s what you choose, we’ll just have to be careful with our health because I’m not putting my mates’ safety in danger for you own comfort. Maybe we are soulmates to understand things and not to live them together. It does happen sometimes. I do agree with you, fate shouldn’t be the one to decide - but in our case, fate is just suggesting who to choose, don’t you think so? You decided against choosing me and we are still alive. Besides, I don’t…,” You seem to hesitate for a second, “I don’t feel a bond between us and you probably don’t feel that either.” 

You feel a bit bitter to lie like that. You didn’t feel it until today. Until you realized who he was to you. But you guess that you shouldn't try to make him change his decision. 

“But I do.” Yoongi whispers, finally looking up from the hole in his jeans. 

He tries to read you, but you’re not easily opening up anymore. He feels like it’s his fault, but he still sees that glimmer of hope inside of your eyes, and trustfully, it kills him, because he just wants to give in right now. Yoongi wants to be held, to be loved, anything. 

He just wants to feel. If he doesn’t accept you, would he ever get another chance again? Would there be another human soul accepting his own broken one?

“I fucking do feel bonded to you, Y/N. That’s the problem. I don’t want to smile whenever I feel you around. I don’t want to feel happy when I see your smile. And I don’t want to suffer just because I see you kissing Taehyung or Jungkook - even if you smile at them instead of me, it hurts. I want to be loved, I want to love. But the only person that exists for me is Hoseok. I’ve loved him since I was 16, but fucking fate destroyed  - I mean, not destroyed, wrong choice of words but - my chance of being mated to him disappeared for me that day. The man I’m in love with is mated to someone else, and now even I’m mated to someone else. How do you think it feels like to be rejected by the only person you’ve been interested in? And then there’s your soulmate, you’re supposed to love her, to be everything she’s waiting for, to care and be there for her and a month later she’s suddenly mated to four other men. What does the fabulous fate want me to do? Get into a polyamorous relationship with four men and one woman? Being not the third but the sixth wheel? I don’t think so.” 

You nod, slowly understanding his issues because that’s how you felt just a few weeks ago. From your dreams of a soulmate that would be your one and unique love, to your new reality composed of four men, who are absolutely amazing, do not kid yourself but, it’s so different from anything you thought would happen. It took you some time to accept what was happening, to accept four men who you’re supposed to be a lost part of their soul. 

You don’t really like the idea of being broken without your soulmates, but it feels just right when you’re with them. In a way, you understand why people came to say that. Because it’s so powerful that it’s hard to define it differently. 

Just like how Yoongi said that fate destroyed his chances with Hobi. 

You understand. Because it’s overwhelming, it’s new. It feels like no one can help you out. However, you have your soulmates. It’s been the five of you to get through it and to start your relationship. Yoongi on his side, he has no one to talk to. 

So, honestly? You understand him, as weird as it sounds. Even you, at some point, think that it isn’t right, that you shouldn’t be so understanding: you should be mad. You even thought about rejecting him if he wanted to pursue anything with you after all of that but now all your anger seems to have faded away. 

Yoongi was expecting it from you too. But no. You aren’t. You’re just glad that he finally decided to talk and to stop running away from you. You don’t want to prevent him from doing anything, you just want to be here for him, at least. He is not alone, and he will always be able to count on you. Maybe you’re meant to be soulmates in a… friendzone kind of way.

“I know, Yoongi. I get it, don’t worry. I mean, I probably should be mad, but I understand. I don’t want to force you into anything, you are your own person with your own belief and choices. I’m not your soulmate to berate you, or to be annoying or whatever. You’re just, not alone in this, you know? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything with me or to get involved with me- but don’t you think you deserve love? Because... I think you do. Maybe love is what you need to get rid over the thought of Hobi being out of your reach? You need love to start a life where you only care about what the future holds, someone that helps to pull you out of that dark place. Crying and being upset over his bond with Jin won’t make your life easier. It would actually be the other way around. Maybe you need to let go, Yoongi. And once again, I’m not asking you to accept us. I mean, we don’t even know if you’re meant to be with the four other men in my life, and I know that Jungkook and Taehyung might not be your types, I thought so too when I realized that Jimin and Namjoon were a part of this too, but I gave them a chance, and I think that one chance might change everything. You already know all of them and I think that it is safe to believe that your two coworkers are your closest friends by now. You trust them, you take care of them even though you might not want to accept that. The bond doesn’t feel like we are forced to love each other, okay? It just happened and I don’t regret it. But it’s your decision, Yoongi. And I won’t take it away from you, just know that if you ever decide to accept me, accept us, then-” 

And then, he kisses you.

Yoongi kisses differently from what you would have expected. He wasn’t soft, shy or holding back anything. His kisses are hungry, frustrated and maybe a little bit aggressive.

This time, the bond didn’t feel like fireworks or butterflies in your stomach, it was more like an explosion full of bad energy that rushed over into your body. 

Yoongi grabs your face, pulling you even closer and as you put your hands on his cheeks, you feel them. Tears are spilling out of his eyes, the feeling of being complete finally settling into your bodies. It is amazing how a simple action holds so many consequences and feelings. It feels like you did something amazing, while you just kissed.

Once Yoongi breaks the kiss, he pulls you onto his lap, hugging you tightly whilst his body still slightly shakes from being overwhelmed. 

“It’s alright, Yoongi. We’re here, we’re together. You have all of us on your side,” you coo, trying to calm him down as you run your finger through his messy hair. 

He’s not alone, he has never been but if he never realized it and you’re going to change that. He’s going to be loved and cherished as much as he lets you. 

You’ll give him anything, you know it sounds desperate, but you feel so much for him. Goodness, he changed everything upside down in one kiss and one talk. 

You kind of hate it, but at the same time, it feels right. Maybe Yoongi is in it to prove to you that fate doesn’t do it all. You have to fight for your mates too. You can’t be given everything, love and trust is something that you gain. 

You’re starting to feel exhausted because of the ride you just did. You went from anger to pain, to despair, to anger again, to shyness, to compassion and finally you’re here, hugging your missing soulmate. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Yoongi whispers, eyes still spilling tears onto your shirt. “I treated you like shit, yet here you are, ready to soothe my pain.”

“Don’t, Yoongi. That was the past. Now we’re here. The healing begins.” You smile soothingly as his arms wrap tightly around you. He keeps on letting apologies fall from his lips and you don’t think that he listens to you when you tell him to stop. He doesn’t need to apologize, you understand him. However, if he feels like he has to, you’ll let him. You’ll give him all the reassurances he needs to walk further with you. 

Seconds later, Jungkook and Taehyung run back into the lobby, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. “What happened, Y/N? I just got a love boner and that wasn’t because Tae and I were basically-” 

“Oh, fuck it, Jungkook,” Tae groans. Then, his eyes fall on you and Yoongi, still embraced in a tight hug.

“Fuck, you did it, love.” His smile was generous, heartwarming and you just know he isn’t mad about the fact that you decided to love one more person. 

Quite the contrary, Taehyung is a perceptive man. He doesn’t really want to tell anyone, but he had known it. He knew it would end up like that, and he can’t wait for the time when you and all your soulmates will be able to be together and walk toward a better future. On the other side, Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, disbelief visible in his eyes. 

“Yoongi, the fuck? You just said that you would never want her, minutes later you’re having her on your lap? Wow.” You feel the jealousy that washes over Jungkook, the boy doesn’t like sharing you, you are his baby, his best friend and his mate. He was fine that you were being mated to his soulmates, but Yoongi doesn’t belong to him. 

He doesn’t know if he would want him to be his as well, or if he’s just jealous that you give love to someone else, especially someone that just made you cry. Taehyung told him how he found you and Jungkook was not happy. Either way, he doesn’t like it too much.

“Jungkook,” you sigh as you press a chaste kiss on top of Yoongi’s hair before sitting down next to him, patting the free spot. “Can you guys sit down? We should probably talk.”

After all of you talked and came down from the emotional roller coaster, the atmosphere was much calmer. 

“I’m not kissing any of you, just to make that clear.” Yoongi looks at the two men, scrunching his nose in disgust. 

“I wouldn’t want to kiss you anyway.” Jungkook mumbles, earning a kick against his shin from you. “Stop it, Jungkook. You’re gay as fuck and Yoongi is good looking, of course you want to kiss him. I would,” Taehyung shrugs as he grins at the eldest. 

“I’m not gay, I’m bi. There’s a difference, because I like boobies too.” Jungkook pouts, looking at you to help him, but you just laugh, shaking your head. 

“You don’t have to kiss everyone, Jungkook, nor do you have to, Yoongi. It’s fine. Even though I’ve got to tell you that Taehyung is an amazing kisser. But maybe, one day it’ll happen. I didn’t kiss Jimin and Namjoon on the same day I kissed Taehyung and Jungkook either. But we have each other, and that’s what prevails.” 

Yoongi hasn’t felt that complete in a long time, yet here he is: happy. And strangely enough, he can’t wait to see what the future will bring. 

TAGLIST (hopefully I didn’t forget anyone lmao): @ ithinkileftmycoatoutside  , @ supertweetycherry ,@ rainyinseoul , @ btsismybiass , @ ray-of-sunshine10 , @ littlepinknightmare , @ quiet-anarchist , @ gali-005 , @ barbikatherine , @woosanniepabo ,  @ quiet-giant , @ asifetch7 , @ psiphidragon , @ hxsxxk-180294 , @ tellmeyoulovemepls , @ strawbewwymochii , @ do-you-dream-of-me , @intellectualxprincess​ ,  @yoshiure  ,  @r-e-d-i-s-h, @mirror-juliet​, @moments-of-melancholy​, @ungodlyjoon​, @heartblackerthancoffee​, @i-like-puppy-mg​, @holaaaf​, @peachinnie ,

↬  COLLAB BETWEEN @jeonggukkiepabo​ X @deolly​

↬ COMMENT TO BE TAGGED!

↬ WILL BE UDPATED EVERY 3 WEEKS ON THURSDAY!