#what's better than finding your soulmate while he kicks the shit out of you? finding you have TWO soulmates in the same moment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

acopenhagenarmy · 1 year

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PART 9

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Warnings: bad words and such, a shit ton of fluff as usual and some angst because why the hell not...

Wordcount: 2,2K

/ Moodboard / Teaser / One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven / Eight / Nine / Ten /

Taglist: @purpletaehyung92 @just-call-me-trash-can @undiscovered1personality

His eyes could light up the room, he looked content, happy in this moment. Food splayed out around you, the two of you completely relaxing as you told him all your life had played out so far. It was nice.

He too told you about him and his life, the dream of rapping and being able to live off of it at some point. Him and the boys struggles when they first started out and the life he had now.

You cleared off the bed when you finished the food, and laid down, head on his chest as he cuddled around you, resting his head on yours as he played with your hair.

The first thing that happened was his heartbeat began to beat a little faster than it had just a minute before, and then you felt the sadness that he felt.

You gave him a minute or two to just dwell in his emotion, think about what he wanted to say before you started to question him.

“Do-” he sighed. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?” he said.

It was only a whisper, but you heard it. The emotions his voice held almost broke your heart in that exact moment.

“Forgive you? What for?” You asked as you tried to stop the overthinking and anxiety from kicking in.

“For me, not finding you earlier” this time around his voice almost cracked under the pressure of the fear that slowly creeped in.

It was obvious he had thought about this throughout the day, maybe even before the two of you met. But he hadn’t had the chase for the feelings to really manifest to the degree where you would be able to feel them. That was until now.

“Oh my love” you said as you tried to drown out his sadness with the love you already had for him. “There’s nothing to forgive”

“Are you sure? Cause I felt your sadness that monday you know? The loneliness, the fear of never finding me, and I just… I never wanted you to feel like that. And if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with my own dreams and aspirations I might’ve been able to feel you earlier, search for you”

You sat up and gave him a small peck before you took his hands.

“Our mark isn’t ideal, there’s no saying if either of us would’ve ever noticed. But I’m pretty sure that if it wasn’t for this job, these dreams of yours, the two of us would’ve most likely never met. I wouldn’t have heard your song, I wouldn’t have called Hobi, and we would’ve never met”

He sighed as he hid his face behind his hands. “I know, I just, I don’t like I’ve caused you pain”

“Just focus on me, in the darkness just the two of us is enough” You answered which earned you a giggle as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“What?” you asked in between the sweet pecks he plastered all over your lips and cheeks. But he refused to give you an answer straight away.

“You just quoted lyrics from one of the songs I’ve written about you” he kissed you between each of the words in the sentence. He smiled while he did it, and it made your heart flutter.

You fake gasped. “So ‘forever rain’ wasn’t the first song dedicated to me?”

“Nope! now come here and cuddle me, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, might be best if we get a little rest”

It didn’t take long for the two of you to drift off, and being here, in his arms, was the best feeling in the world. You had never felt more safe or more at home.

The following morning Namjoon had decided that he wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed. He had no intentions of leaving the hotel room the next couple of days. All he wanted was to get to know you better, especially without the eyes of the world, resting on the two of you.

Speculations about him finding his soulmate were all over twitter. Someone had spotted him and the boys as they left your school, finding it peculiar just what they were doing at a place like that, so close to one of their concerts.

That, in combination with the small hints of complete happiness and love from his speech at yesterday's concert, had made army analyze every little second of his performance.

He had a takeout box in hand as he filled it, and many others to the brim with breakfast for the two of you.

“You think you’ve had enough pancakes?” Jungkook laughed.

Shortly after they all heard a loud *smack* followed by a loud and dramatic “ouch” from their maknae.

“Let him live, Jungkook. Something tells me the two of them are gonna need all the carbs and strength for the day that they have planned” Star said as he passed you all by, just before drowning her ginger shot.

He couldn’t help the blush that painted his cheeks. The boys instantly started teasing him. But Jin stayed silent.

It looked like he was in a trance of sorts. Daydreaming about something that seemed important.

“You okay?” Namjoon asked.

His eyes were shining like little stars, he looked happier than he had in a long time. And that’s when he spotted it. A small piece of a round pink confetti in his hair.

“Ohhhh” it was like a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Yeah,” Jin answered, unable to say anything else.

“Oh wow!" So she knows who you are? Hell she even biases you?” Namjoon had completely stopped what he was doing, all he could think was how lucky Jin was.

This made it much easier for the two of them to come into contact with one another. You knew how she looked, and hopefully the two of you had exchanged more than just formalities in the midst of everything.

“I really hope it’s her Namjoon”

“I’m sure it is, congrats bro!” He sat down the boxes and gave him a giant hug which the older man quickly returned.

“Ah fuck… If this is a dream I better wake up before I have her in my arms, because otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to recover.”

You woke up in the dark room, with just a small light source from the borders of the curtain. You smiled and stretched your arms over your head, unable to see even those in the dark room.

“Goodmorning love” you said with a groggy voice.

You slowly stretched out your arms in the hopes of reaching your soulmate. Morning cuddles, well cuddles in general, were really something you enjoyed. And waking up with him meant daily cuddle sessions.

But there was nobody next to you, the bed was completely empty beside you.

You felt anger, sadness, depression and anxiety come crashing over you, all at once.

It was all a dream, he’s not here, he’s not real…

Your thoughts overpowered every kind of rational thought you might’ve had in that moment. Instead of getting up, looking for him, you drew the covers over your head. In hopes of shutting the memories of what you thought were your dreams, out.

You did what you had done so many times where you had dreamt of him, or the mere idea of him. You shut down and hid in the dark, hoping that someday, the dream would become reality.

Namjoon talked to the boys after he had collected all the food he loved and hoped you liked too. He tried to figure out just how many days they could stay in the city with time off, without it ruining too much of the schedule.

He could almost see the emotions that were about to hit him, creeping in on him like dark clouds, filled with thunder and sadness. The hit of it almost knocked the air out of him.

Your loneliness was more severe than he had ever felt, and the feeling of tears staining his cheeks were not to be mistaken. He couldn’t understand why you were feeling like this, weren’t you happy?

And then it hit him… She thinks yesterday was a dream.

He quickly threw the take away boxes on the table without a care in the world. And then he set off and ran as fast as his feet could carry him.

Through corridors and hallways, up the stairs and finally he was there in the room with you.

His heart broke by the sound of your muffled cries. He didn’t even take the time to turn on the light, in a second he was in the bed right beside you, pulling you close, freeing you from the covers and the dark void that was your anxiety.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here” he said as he rocked you back and forth, repeating his words, over and over like a prayer.

You clinged on to his t-shirt, as you cried, every second inhaling more of his perfume. His arms that held you felt so real, and when you finally had the courage to look up, he was there.

He took your face in his hands and used his thumps to dry away the tears. “I’m right here, it wasn’t a dream. I’ll never leave you, okay? Never. It’s you and me my love, you and me”

His voice pulled you back to reality.

“You’re here?” It was meant to be a statement, but in the end, it sounded more like a question than anything else.

“I am,” he said.

The two of you sat there for a while, just staring at one another while embracing. You didn’t want it to stop, you wanted to memorize him like this. The fear filled eyes, that still had that spark of love and adoration. You wanted to get lost in them, drown in them, bury yourself in this feeling.

“Do you need anything?” he asked as he removed a strand of hair from your face.

“A glass of water maybe?”

He responded by kissing your forehead, and then went to pick a cold water bottle out from the fridge.

“Here” he said as he threw it your way.

Your man was perfection, he was made for you, there was no doubt. But he could not throw anything, maybe not even if his life depended on it. The water bottle missed the bed by an entire meter, and the hard drop on the floor made the lid fly off of it.

There was nothing you could do except laugh. And seeing you smile was contagious, and before he knew it, the two of you were laughing together.

It was perfect, and lifted your moods without the need to talk through the episode right away.

“Remind me never to do that again” He said in between laughs.

“Are you always that clumsy?” You asked as you tried your best to get both the laughter and your breathing under control

“Well the army calls me god of destruction…”

The absurdity of the nickname made you giggle, just as the two of you had stopped laughing.

“How many things do you break, for it to be a nickname your fans have given you?”

“A lot…” He smiled, dimples on display.

You sighed and took his hand, not ready for him to go take care of the mess he had just made.

“I’m sorry I scared you… my fears and anxiety got the best of me I think”

He gave your hand a squeeze. “Please, don’t apologize. I’ve had dreams of you before as well. And waking up from that is terrible.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who’ve missed you over the years”

“Trust me, you weren’t.”

He bent down, toilet paper in hand to clean up his mess as you watched him. He hummed a little melody, and impressed you once again with his talent. How did I get so lucky?

Oh wanna hear some good news?” he asked.

You liked this. The feeling of having someone who didn’t judge you for how you felt. The feeling of being able to communicate every feeling and thought you had, was everything you had ever hoped and dreamed to have in your partner.

“Tell me” you said as you hugged one of the pillows on the bed.

“The girl you met yesterday, the one who dropped the confetti, we’re pretty sure she might be Jin’s soulmate”

You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled with happiness.

“Oh my god! You’re kidding!?” You said with as much excitement as your voice would allow you.

He couldn’t help but smile at your excitement. It was nice to see you were as excited for his brother as he was. Even though you’d only met him yesterday. She’s complete and utter perfection.

“How do you know?”

“Well he woke up with confetti everywhere, he had some stuck in his hair when I met him at breakfast.” Namjoon laughed.

His laugh was slowly becoming your favorite sound in the entire world.

“That’s amazing Joonie. But damn I should’ve asked her, her name, or at least gotten some kind of information”

He got off the floor and gave you a peck before trying, and failing, to throw the paper in the bin basketball style.

“Don’t worry too much about that, how would you know? How would any of us?”

You nodded along, that was true. “I do have some info though”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #Namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon soulmate au #kim namjoon soulmate au #bts namjoon soulmate #namjoon soulmate #bts soulmate au

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susandsnell · 9 months

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CHOOSE VIOLENCE: 12, 18, 22, 23

thanks so much maggie!!! sorry for the delay. hope you're well!!

choose violence ask game 🔥

12. The unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them.

pick any woman lmao. but i'm going to say i'm especially defensive of may welland from the age of innocence and amy march from little women. the former is hated for trying to put a stop to an affair her husband was having/protect herself from being left for another woman when before they ever got married, she told newland straight up he didn't have to marry her if he wasn't sure and his dumb ass was so indecisive he tried to have his cake and eat it too, and nearly ruined both their lives. as for amy, she's unjustly hated for the high crime of 1) being kind of bratty as a child and 2) having the audacity to marry laurie, who she loved, instead of jo who is a lesbian who did not/could not commit to him. Perhaps the view of this has been skewed by the 2019 flick where Florence Pugh is playing an 8 year old and a twentysomething, but it really says something that classic lit fandom will fawn over the most atrocious, insufferable men imaginable (Rochester should've roasted and I'll die on that hill) but if a little girl , a literal child, has an age-appropriate fit of rage once and argues with her sisters (do these people not...have siblings?), culminating in her destroys her sister's things and said sister is everyone's self insert character (except, conveniently, for her rejections/subversions of femininity GEE I WONDER WHY), that's apparently a bridge too far. Even if she's overall a sweet person and outgrows being, again, kind of annoying as a kid.

Also, does Carlotta Giudicelli from Phantom of the Opera count? (Let's go with the musical version here for argument's sake.) She's a bit of a diva, sure, but honestly she earned it and is iconic for it, and she literally just wanted workplace safety and to not be replaced by a significantly younger and skinnier performer based on someone in power's attraction to said performer, which is still a very real issue in the entertainment world! She takes no shit! She was kind of hard on Christine when she wasn't to blame but c'mon, I'd hardly be the most reasonable or understanding if there was a serial killer on the loose bumping off my coworkers who was constantly threatening my life and that of my partner, and had suffered public humiliation twice at the hands of said nutjob. And she then has to find her husband dead as almost an afterthought to the wider plot. TeamCarlotta, she did nothing wrong except be slightly rude under extremely upsetting circumstances. I think she was more disliked in past Phantom fandom than she is now, but c'mon. Feature her more in fanworks, she's a badass!

18. it’s absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on… I can't answer 'women' twice, but I will just say as a generality deconstructing popular fic tropes. Really pick apart the horrific implications of what a Soulmates/Reincarnation AU looks like when equipoised against one's free will. Or heck, make it funny - There Is Only One Bed and this sonofabitch keeps kicking me. Just keep things fresh!!!

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores Ooh, tough one! Again, the cop-out answer is 'character's canonical flaws and worse moments, or their better points if they're worse characters' lolol, but I really in general get bummed when people shirk worldbuilding and cool concepts in service of the same handful of relationship tropes? Not to be one of those people who bitches about lacking gen while also not contributing gen content - I fully acknowledge myself I'm more into the relationship aspect of things, but whether it's the fullest potential of the Train in Infinity Train, the way the Force is deconstructed as some kind of horrific fate-controlling entity in Knights of the Old Republic 2, so so so so so much vampire lore/rules/mythos in any given vamp media and its fandom, I wish it was just acknowledged and played with more! You could even do so in service of ships/characterization if you're clever!

23. ship you’ve unwillingly come around to Another tough call! I tend to stick to my guns on ships and either end up liking them out of the gate and then that like can turn into total brainrot, or I just kind of dislike them and stay disliking them. If we're talking some real crack, I started as vaguely amused by Barbenheimer (the crossover ship based on the phenomenon) to getting surprisingly behind cracky content made for it. I'm sorry I don't have a more dramatic or satisfactory answer on this front, but as I said, I tend to stick around my early-formed opinions on ships, and most of them I approach from a neutral perspective to begin with and see if it's swayed by solid content, canon or fanon.

#ask night #thanks so much!!! sorry for the wait #choose violence asks

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the-chickenshit-oddity · 2 years

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I posted 10,522 times in 2022

That's 8,112 more posts than 2021!

875 posts created (8%)

9,647 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@birdkeeperklink

@atypical-snowman

@tony-stark-ing

@kcsplace

@eventhorizon451

I tagged 2,680 of my posts in 2022

#stupid - 628 posts

#the-c-odd-prompt - 254 posts

#prompt - 196 posts

#cool art - 96 posts

#yes - 87 posts

#tony stark - 80 posts

#lol - 78 posts

#iron man - 69 posts

#lmao - 69 posts

#ironstrange - 65 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#in which steve is the cool uncle and charlie has a thing for bananas and danny has to stop steve from leavin the country cause he feels bad

My Top Posts in 2022:

Snape & Harry prompt

Make it shippy if you want, I'll keep it gen for myself.

Snape survives the war and when Harry goes back for his 8th year, Snape ignores him. No more insults, no more detention, no more asking him questions he doesn't have the answer to, nothing. Since it's after the war, Harry's a bit...traumatised, and feels kind of without a purpose, because he doesn't want to fight anymore but he also doesn't know anything else, much less what he wants to do. And so, his helper-complex kicks in and he thinks clearly Snape's traumatised too, so much so that he doesn't even enjoy his favourite pass-time anymore : tortuting Harry. So Harry's new purpose is to annoy Snape into being a giant dick again, and make him feel better. Except the whole dickishness (well, the extent of it anyway) was part of his spy gig so Snape doesn't wanna go back to it, but my god is that Potter kid a pain in his...backside.

125 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

Mystrade/Mycroft prompt

Mycroft's waistcoat is a bulletproof vest. Mystrade version is Greg finding that out the hard way.

126 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

All the ships

A's got some visible consequence of trauma ; maybe scars, maybe nervous ticks, maybe some obvious reactions to stuff, anything. B asks them about it and A lies, but A's a shit liar telling a shit excuse and they're in a bad place right now so when B just accepts it cheerfully, A thinks "oh, you don't care enough to call me on my bullshit". In the end, A realises "oh, you care enough to wait for me to be ready to talk about it"

144 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

All the ships:

Strangers to flirty Friends to Lovers to friendly Exes to ... Well after that you can choose what you want.

So, they used to date but for some reason they broke up and they thought "well we were friends before, we can be friends again now as exes, right?" but wrong because they weren't friends, they were flirty friends, the kind where the friendship is mostly based on the mutual attraction which prevents real connection because you wanna impress. So now they realise they've got nothing to talk about and friendly Exes become "haven't talked to you in weeks but no hard feelings" kind of strangers. And then they meet again and start over.

154 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

One prompt all the ships:

Soulmate AU where you have "the most meaningful touch" your soulmate ever gives you as, like, a birthmark.

A has a giant handprint all across their face, covering their mouth and cheeks. Obligatory angst of "oh shit my soulmate is violent/hates me/etc" until it turns out that B (the soulmate) actually saved their lives by preventing them from making a sound while danger was near (or something else non-evil).

(an example would be that scene where Klaus covers Caroline's mouth while 'saving' her from Psycho-Alaric ; another would be a high level of "shut up now before you say something you shouldn't" slam-my-hand-against-your-face thing)

449 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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angelamajiki · 4 years

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PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

#yandere endeavor #yandere endeavor x reader #endeavor x reader #endeavor #enji todoroki x reader #yandere enji x reader #yandere enji todoroki #yandere enji todoroki x reader #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #yandere boku no hero academia

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script-nef · 3 years

Text

Tomorrow | Rick Flag

Category: 18+/smut Warning: Handjob, thighjob (? is that a thing-), soft sex, pet names, praise kink, Ricky is a simp 2.7k words; Fuck, you’re insane. But then what does that say about him, who’s attracted to your entire shtick?

A/N: There’s this one part that i’m not sure is anatomically correct-

The team is insane. There’s a semi-talking shark, two weird mercenaries, a depressed twig with an alien virus, a girl who controls fucking rats, Harley with her name just speaking for herself.

And yet you’re the certified batshit crazy one. By everyone. Especially Rick himself.

You’re off to the side, talking to your ‘soulmate’ Harley about her break-up with the Joker because while the news about how she was up for grabs to villains was blaring everywhere, you weren’t paying attention. You got into a new show and it was amazing. A show about a homicidal, psychopathic cannibal psychiatrist falling for his insane patient. And you called it the best form of romance. Sometimes he wants to grab anyone of higher authority by the shirt collar—preferably Waller—and rattle them until they give him at least a semi-functioning person.

“Really? You broke up with him?”

“Yeah, we weren’t working well together. It was better this way, ya know?”

“I do indeed, Harley. Good for you, sweetie! So proud of you. Well, I like you and I don’t like him, so do you want me to go over and wreck his shit? He was mean to you for a long time and I would love to spear—”

“That’s enough.” He steps in, yanking you by the back of your shirt, away from Harley before she can respond, ignoring your whinings of Ri-ick, I was only joking and the petulant, ineffective dragging of your feet against the ground. He's basically your impulse control, stopping you whenever you're about to do something reckless with no regard for your health and safety, taking on your childish pokes and prods because you're bored and his skin is so nice. You say it’s a compliment but he's not sure if that’s completely true. From you, it could either mean you want his skincare routine—he doesn't have one—or you want to skin him so you're in possession of nice, clean flesh.

Fuck, you’re insane.

But then what does that say about him, who’s attracted to your entire shtick?

Okay, it’s not like he wants to be. Every single fibre, bone and sensible thought in his body constantly berates him for this. Really? Her? Her? Out of fucking everyone in the world? And he agrees with them one hundred percent. He should be removing any and all thoughts about you that don’t pertain to the mission, lock them away in a box, solder it shut, kick it down a ravine and into the sea, hoping it gets crushed by the water pressure. That’s exactly what he should do.

That’s not what happens. You have a different agenda, ruining his chances of ever finding peace. Latching onto him at whatever opportunity and excuse that pops into your head at any point, and you have a lot. “I’m cold!”, “I watched a puppy be all alone and you didn’t let me pet it so I’m sad.”, “You have a deadly disease called ‘no-affection-sickness’. It’s super fatal and you’ll die if you don’t get kisses and hugs. I don’t want you to die, Ricky, you deserve better than that.”

Maybe it would be better if you did it to everyone else, climbing on top of them every once in a while, calling cute—fuck did he just admit Ricky is cute—nicknames, but you don’t. It’s just for him. And he doesn’t know if he likes that or wants it to stop. Everything you do kills him.

The back of his head sticks into the valley of your tits, sinking in way more than he should allow in front of everyone. Even when he tries to pry his head out of your grasp, you make a noise of frustration and wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into the position. Half-choking him in the attempt to see the plan over him, the plan that would be easily visible if you just let go and sat down next to him like a normal person. Like everyone else in the room. He can see the others sneaking looks, side glances at your blatant display of affection. Can’t do anything about it.

You don't wear bras to sleep, just a thin shirt that droops to your thighs—it’s way too big for you because it’s his, and he has no idea how you got it but he doesn’t have the heart to ask for it back—and of fucking course you take the spot next to him, beaming and sniggering like you're in on a joke no one else is. He can't catch a break from you. (Does he even want one though?)

“Big day tomorrow! Nighty night, guys!” You say it like it’s a picnic, or a lunch date tomorrow when they’re actually walking to the jaws of death. Everyone replies to you in their own way and shuffles to sleep.

Snores echo in the room, pulling Rick back from the arms of sleep every time he gets close to it. How a shark sounds so loud is totally lost to him. In fact, can sharks even snore? Fuck if he knows.

You’re awake as well, fiddling with the sleeve of his neon yellow shirt. He’s given up on telling you to stop at this point.

“If we survive, can we get a day off before going back to prison?” You whisper in the dark, right next to his ear like you’re sharing a secret. He turns his head to your side even though it’s so dark that he can barely see the faintest outline of your body. He knows you’re looking straight back at him, eyes wide and curious even though you should be a bit drowsy at least.

“Probably not. And it’s not if, it’s when. You’re going to make it.” You giggle at his words and place a kiss onto his cheek, shorter than all your other ones but the only one so far that feels… genuine. The voices in his head give up then, disappearing completely, and oh. Oh. Shit.

It’s the night before a coup and the mission and it’s the worst fucking time to have this revelation. It’s not fireworks, not an eye-opening revelation. It’s like sitting on the beach, the seawater halfway up his chest and a wave washing over him. There’s something rising in his chest, something way too big and dangerous, so he swallows it back down. Locks it up, just for the next 24 hours. Then he can think about it after not dying. So he decides on choking out a “why?” to distract himself. You don’t reply for a while.

“I want to go home.”

You don’t have one, though. As far as he knows. The dossier on you was two pages; one and a half being all the places you visited and the people you wasted. It didn’t mention permanent residence. Running all the time, hopping from one motel to another and leaving a trail of dead bodies or looted safes behind you, infamous for being slippery as hell until he finally caught you. Pinned you to a wall before dragging your ass to Belle Reve.

“You wouldn’t know it. No one really does. I have a tortoise there, Wilbur. I think he misses me. I want to hug him one last time before I never see him again.” He hears shuffling, then heat as you cuddle up to him, fingers tentative against his arm, asking wordlessly if you can hug it. His body’s already moving to let your arm link with his before he realises. “If— When we get out of here… maybe you can visit me. I can probably escape once before they lock me up in some high-security place.”

Chatter should follow up, your mouth running at a thousand miles per hour to fill the lull, go off on a tangent that makes no sense, but you stay quiet. He can feel how tense you are, breathing shallow and subdued. The reasonable part of his mind chalks it up to vulnerability issues, clamming up as if you’ve talked too much already. You never really share anything about yourself that’s not ‘useless intel’, according to Waller. The screwed up and emotional part of his mind follows up with she trusts you, your feelings are reciprocated, say yes, say yes, say yes and despite his best effort to not listen to that part of himself, he can’t stop himself from replying in the kindest tone he can manage.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Where the fuck does that come from? “I’ll come with you.”

It’s dark as shit and he can’t see you, but he knows you’re smiling, beaming like a star. He hopes he can see it in the sunlight tomorrow, standing in the rubbles of Jötunheim.

---

“Get the fuck away from him!”

You smash something against Peacemaker’s head, knocking him to the side and don’t give him a chance to get back up, stabbing him all over and turning him into a fountain piece of blood, mangled and ugly. The asshole barely has time to gurgle out anything before the light disappears from his eyes. Good fucking riddance.

You’re drenched in blood, clothes red and speckles of it splattered into your hair, a few dots on your face. He can smell it on your hands—the disgustingly familiar copper stench—when you cup his face, asking him to focus and not go towards the white light. The sheer absurdity of that comment makes him laugh, then regret it. Abdominal muscles are half-dead in pain and you’re so warm that he wants to go to sleep. Fuck the mission and fuck everything. Just want to be near you.

Your arms wind around his neck, bringing his head to lay on your chest and it hurts because he’s most definitely broken at least two or three ribs, but he can’t reject you when you’re whispering oh thank god you’re alright, I was so scared, I was so, so scared fervently next to his ear, squeezing him like he’s going to turn into bubbles and slip right out of your grasp. It’s a moment, just you and him, breathing together, the sounds of the tower collapsing far in the background and barely noticeable.

Liquid slides down the side of his neck and you’re crying, streaks of salty tears clearing up the dust coated on your face. Oh, you’re so pretty. You look like a dream, made for him. His lips slip over yours before you have the chance to hug him again, and even with the broken bones and aching muscles and the tonnes of concrete above them ready to fall any second, he thinks everything will be alright.

---

It’s a house in the middle of nowhere. Oddly picturesque; white picket fence, olden style structure, front and back garden with overgrown weeds. Kind of dilapidated, understandable seeing as you haven’t visited here in some time. Has that 70’s vibe, or the 60’s. He doesn’t really know. You introduce him to Wilbur, who’s still alive somehow. He’s as confused as you are but doesn’t push it, remarking that you deserved another miracle. You giggle and agree, hugging him tightly. He winds an arm around you as well. It feels right.

He doesn’t really understand what happens after that. He was cleaning up dinner—fast food on the couch, legs tangled together, you occasionally feeding him bites of your burger, nibbling into his—and you appeared out of nowhere, bringing him down by the collars and smashing your lips onto his. Salty from the chips and plush to his chapped ones, parting open to shove your tongue into his mouth, sucking on his and god it’s filthy and your saliva is getting everywhere but that just makes it hotter. His eyelids are drooping as he gets drunk on the feeling, barely registering you pushing him down onto the creaky sofa and straddling him.

He’s already half hard from the makeout when you take him out, white liquid pearling on the tip. A throaty groan leaves him when you clench your fist around him, jerking him up and down while pressing your thumb against the underside, specifically a vein that’s way too sensitive and makes his arms all wobbly. You seem to like that, licking your lips while peering down at him, replacing your digits with the smooth flesh of your thighs, signing his death warrant.

It feels way too good, almost criminal, and he’s well on his way to a climax when you shuck off your pants, discard your panties and seat himself in you with one stroke. A choked gasp explodes out of the both of you, forehead pushing against each other, trying to grab onto something, anything, to ground yourselves. You choose his shoulder, he chooses your hips.

You’re so warm. Almost hot. Almost scorching and binding around him, such a stark difference to your cold and sweating skin. You both stay still for a moment, feeling like you would combust at the smallest twitch or shift.

He wants to pound into you, snap his hips up until the bones connect and he breaks you open, carve his territory inside your welcoming pussy. It would be so easy, so so easy. But the tremors in your hands grasping onto his shirt, the rapid fluttering of your eyelids, the muted chant of his name on your tongue. They make him want to cherish this moment. Make it unforgettable for both you and him, so that when you go out into the world to steal and kill and maim and be left alone, you’ll at least have this one night’s memory of him worshipping your body, and he would have the sensation of your walls around his cock and the feeling of your gasps grazing on his skin when he’s stuck halfway around the world in a shitty cabin.

So he changes his rhythm. The thought of punching a hole through your insides replaced with the thought to massage them, slowly but surely to leave the imprint of his cock inside you. You turn into a mess of limbs and moans and drool, cheek on his chest and unmoving. He has to pull you back and slant his mouth against yours to muffle the squeals that rip out of you with each languid thrust, each jolt of his waist to yours.

You’re so reactive, shivering and contracting at his every whisper, every kiss, every skimming of fingers across your skin. Then he says ‘you’re so tight around me, I love it’ and you beam through your addled brain, probably like that night before the mission, maybe even wider. It’s so pure and sincere that he halts to a stop, lungs squeezing through his ribcage at the sharp inhale, trying to stop his chest from caving in at how utterly cute you are. You’re a serial killer and a master thief with a body count in double digits and so goddamn precious.

“Sweetheart, you’re taking me so well, good girl, good girl.” He’s almost babbling at this point, voice deep and husky and filled with desperation, sprouting anything and everything to see that smile again, to make his heart feel full knowing he’s the reason for it. “Baby, look at me? C’mon, pretty, look at me.” Your eyes connect with his for a fraction of a second, the bursting of a supernova within each of your dilating pupils, then they disappear as you keen, convulsing around him, pushing him to his end as well. Ropes of cum spill inside as he slumps against you, breathing haggard and sweating all over.

You’re already drifting away on top of him, your sex covered with his seeds and soaking into the cheap fabric of the couch. He should move. Get out of you, clean you up, tuck you into bed and make sure you don’t have stiff joints tomorrow morning, open a window or something because the whole house reeks of sex now. He should very much move.

But you whine when he tries to slip out, face digging deeper into his shirt and legs clamping around his waist. Like a koala or a panda or something equally cute but also hot.

The clean-up can probably wait until tomorrow morning.

#rick flag x reader #rick flag imagine #rick flag x you #rick flag x y/n #rick flag headcanon #dceu x reader #dceu imagine #the suicide squad x reader #the suicide squad imagine #dceu #the suicide squad #rick flag #smut #female reader

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fangirlwriting-stories · 2 years

Text

One Chance To Make A First Impression

Chapter One

Chapter 2/6:

Patton could not believe he was doing this. There were a million ways this could go wrong, or could leave him feeling more alone than before, or could result in a disaster that warranted him never showing his face in public again.

He wasn’t sure why he’d started considering this in the first place. He just… he had to talk to someone, and after the first three therapists he’d contacted had all given him the same response (essentially “I don’t really work with people with multiple soulmates, you should maybe try somewhere else”), this had seemed one of the few options Patton had left available to him.

But just because this place was familiar with the ‘my soulmate hates me’ part of his problems didn’t mean they’d be any more accepting to people with multiple soulmates. He didn’t know if he could take being kicked out again.

He looked down at the door handle, trying to muster up the courage to reach out and open it.

“Uh, hey,” came a sudden voice, and Patton jumped and spun around. Two people, one wearing a black hoodie with dyed purple hair, and one with glasses in a dress shirt and an actual tie for some reason, were approaching him from down the sidewalk.

“Are you here for the meeting?” the one in the hoodie asked.

Patton blinked in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Because you’ve been staring at the building for five minutes without going inside, and the only other option is you’re here for the gym. So unless you’re just really doubting your ability to get in shape, you’re probably here for the support group,” he said. He crossed his arms, giving him a curious look. “First time?”

Patton pulled his jacket down over his hands, just to make extra sure his wrists wouldn’t be visible. “Yeah.”

“It’s alright,” the one with the tie said. “You look to be handling this better than I was. I don’t think I would have gone at all if he hadn’t agreed to go with me. Oh, I’m Logan, by the way, and this is Virgil,” Logan said, gesturing towards him.

“Um, Patton,” Patton said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just…”

“It’s okay. Really,” Virgil said. “You want to walk in with us?”

Patton bit his lip, and nodded. “If— if you don’t mind.”

“Of course we don’t mind,” Logan said. “Besides, we can show you how to find the room. It’s a little out of the way.”

With that, the three of them headed in, and Logan and Virgil led them towards the back of the building, through a door and down another hallway.

They ended up at a room with a sign on the door that simply said ‘Support Group.’ Patton took a moment to be grateful for the anonymity before they all headed inside.

The meeting didn’t start for another fifteen minutes, so there weren’t a ton of people in the room yet. Logan and Virgil both sat in a couple of seats around a circular table in the middle of the room, and Patton hesitantly took one next to Logan, who turned and nodded at him.

Patton nodded shakily, still feeling a little unsure.

More people started to trickle in as the minutes went by, and several of them immediately headed for other people they seemed to know and started talking. Patton wasn’t close enough to know what exactly they were saying, but his nerves spiked anyway.

“Wait,” he said, turning to face Logan and Virgil. “Do we have to talk? Like, is it a requirement?”

“Oh, hell no,” Virgil said, laughing a little. “I didn’t say shit my first time here. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

Patton pulled his sleeves down over his hands further. He didn’t really like the cursing, but he also didn’t know Virgil well enough yet to feel comfortable calling him out on it.

He wouldn’t be comfortable enough to talk to any of these people. And the second he did, they were just going to kick him out.

He shouldn’t be here. This place wasn’t for him.

He stood up and started quickly for the door, ignoring Logan and Virgil turning to him in surprise. He didn’t feel ready to brave the other people while making his way out of the gym yet, but thankfully there was a bathroom right outside the door, and he could slip in there. He shut the door and leaned against it, trying to catch his breath, though he hadn’t really done enough to justify losing it in the first place.

He pulled his sleeves down until they completely hid his hands and buried his head in the fabric of the jacket now covering them. This was a terrible idea. He should go home. He didn’t want to sit in a support group where everyone would expect him to be— well, not normal, but more normal than he was.

There was a gentle knock from the other side of the door. “Patton?”

Patton pulled his hands down slightly from his face.

“Hey, are you alright?” Virgil called.

“I’m fine!” Patton called weakly through the door. “I’m—” He took a shaky breath, reached out, and pulled the door open.

“I’m sorry, you don’t need to comfort me,” he said, brushing past Virgil. “I’m gonna go home.”

“Hey,” Virgil said, catching his arm. “It’s okay if you’re nervous, really. I think most of us were nervous our first time coming here. I promise, it’s not going to be like a giant therapy session. We’re really more like friends who understand what we’re all going through.”

“None of you know me,” Patton said.

“No, but we know your situation,” Virgil said. “That’s why we’re all here.”

“You don’t know my situation,” Patton said. “If you did, you wouldn’t want me here.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “You wanna bet?”

Patton pulled his sleeves down further.

“Here,” Virgil said. He pulled up his own sleeve and held it out towards Patton.

“As if I’d want to be with someone like you.”

Patton winced. “That’s…”

“Yeah, I know,” Virgil said with a shrug, pulling his sleeve back down casually. “That, by the way, is the first thing said to me by the guy who had been bullying me for the two months since he’d come to our school. He was a dick, and I don’t want to give him much thought anymore.”

Patton blinked. “But… he’s your soulmate.”

“Yeah, and? I have to have an entire relationship with an asshole that I hated because the first thing he said to me is printed on my wrist? Bullshit. There are better people out there than him, and I don’t have to give him another chance because the universe said so.” Virgil’s gaze softened a bit. “But it also took me a while to get to that mindset,” he said. “And it was fucking hard, and I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t. I needed some help. It’s okay if you do too.”

Patton shook his head. “It’s different.”

“Why is it different? You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I’m…” Patton pulled his sleeve down further. “I would much rather talk to a therapist by myself.”

Virgil’s gaze turned curious. “You can do that too.”

Patton shook his head. “No, I can’t. They all turned me away.”

“What? Why? Who’s that shitty at their job?”

Patton bit his lip, and, with shaking hands, pulled his left sleeve up his arm and held it out to Virgil.

Virgil looked down on it. He could tell what moment he processed that there were two sentences, because he raised an eyebrow slightly.

“See?” Patton said, pulling the sleeve down immediately. “No one’s going to want me in there.”

“You’re not the only person here with multiple soulmates,” Virgil said, and Patton’s breath caught.

“What?”

“You’re not the only person here with multiple soulmates,” Virgil repeated. “There’s other people in there who do.”

Patton’s eyes widened. “Really? Who?”

Virgil smirked. “Well, that’s not my information to tell, now is it?” he said with a shrug, turning and walking back towards the room at the end of the hall.

Patton blinked, but Virgil had won this battle and they both knew it. It’s not like he was just going to leave when he heard that.

He looked back towards the other door one last time, then sighed and walked down the hallway towards the support group.

The chair next to Logan was still empty when he walked in, and Patton moved slowly towards it and sat down.

Logan was talking quietly to Virgil, but a second after they finished, Logan turned to Patton, pulled up his sleeve, and held his wrist out to Patton.

“Wow, you’re weird.”

“As if we’d want an emotionless robot as a soulmate.”

Patton turned to stare at him, and Logan smiled slightly. “It really is quite alright,” he said softly.

Patton took a shaky breath, and pulled his own sleeve up again, holding it out to Logan. Logan read what was on it, and nodded back at Patton.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with that,” he said gently. “But we absolutely want you here, Patton.”

Patton pulled his sleeve down and sniffed, nodding again. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’m sorry someone somehow saw you as an emotionless robot.”

Logan smiled a little more, and held out a hand, which Patton gently squeezed.

Okay. So maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea.

…

Patton got very close to Virgil and Logan very quickly, which didn’t really surprise him given how they’d met. They didn’t go to the same high school, but they all lived in the same area, and meeting up after school wasn’t at all difficult.

They developed some favorite haunts pretty quickly. Logan loved the library, bookstores, museums, any kind of place he could gain knowledge— the kind he actually cared about, not the kind that school forced him to learn. Virgil liked the skateboard park, though he admitted he was still actually learning how to use a skateboard. Patton spent quite a bit of his time volunteering at animal shelters, because he was too allergic to actually have a cat of his own, but he could stand being around them for a short period of time, and this way he got to learn a lot about other animals too.

Patton didn’t know quite what to make of Virgil and Logan at first, they were so different from everything he was used to. His own parents supported him as best they could in regards to soulmates, but they still seemed to view it as something that would affect every aspect of his life. But Virgil and Logan, unless they were at a meeting or someone asked to talk about it, didn’t bring up Patton’s soulmates at all, almost like they thought they didn’t matter. Instead, they just… did things together, without taking soulmates into account in the slightest. It was wonderful.

And Patton should have been perfectly content to stay like that, but his natural tendency to ruin things had apparently decided it wouldn’t leave him alone, even when it came to Virgil and Logan.

He’d learned the two of them were dating not long after they all met, and it had been surprising, but Patton wasn’t going to be bothered by it, not with everything he’d had to deal with. In fact, before long, he was finding himself with the other problem.

“They’re just so nice,” he groaned, looking up at Fluffles, his emotional support stuffed animal, who was sitting on his pillow. “I love them so much, Fluffles. Both as friends and…” he buried his head in his blanket and whined, then pulled up to rest his chin on his hands a second later. “Why am I like this?” he said miserably. “Why do I have to ruin everything?”

Fluffles didn’t move, but Patton could almost picture him narrowing his eyes. They had in fact had many rather one-sided talks about Patton needing to be kinder to himself.

“You don’t understand, Fluffles,” Patton said, flopping back down on the bed. “They’re perfectly happy without me. They don’t need me, I’m just in the way!” Patton grabbed Fluffles and buried his head in his fuzz. “Like always,” he mumbled.

He nuzzled Fluffles closer and curled up on his bed again. Logan had told him about irony, was this the kind of thing he meant? It sounded like irony, the fact that his soulmates didn’t want him because they didn’t need him and then he fell in love with two people who were already in love and didn’t need him.

Patton took a breath and sat up. He’d just have to hide his feelings. Yeah. That shouldn’t be too hard, he faked being happy all the time, how hard could it be to fake not being in love?

He could do this. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else.

…

Virgil and Logan were acting nervous. Virgil he could tell because, well, it was Virgil, and it’s pretty easy to tell. And Logan was doing that thing where he would tense slightly and tighten his jaw, which he always did when he was nervous.

All of that wouldn’t mean much, if they weren’t only nervous when they were around Patton, meaning he definitely did something wrong.

Patton’s go to when he screwed up was space, so for the next couple days he said he had a lot of stuff going on, just to give Logan and Virgil whatever time they needed to cool down about whatever he did.

The end result was not what Patton had been expecting, though. After a couple days had passed, but still long before Patton had been planning on reaching out to them, Virgil texted him asking if he wanted to have ice cream with him and Logan.

Patton texted back that he had a lot of homework to do that day, assuming that Virgil would simply take that as it was, like he had the past couple days. Instead, however, his response came completely out of left field.

Virgil: I figured you might say that

Virgil: So we brought the ice cream to you

Patton narrowed his eyes in confusion.

Patton: What?

But instead of Virgil responding what he meant, Patton heard footsteps coming from nearby, and a second later the door to his room opened suddenly and Virgil and Logan both walked in, carrying tubs of ice cream.

Patton sat up in surprise, turning to face them. “Virgil? Logan? What are you doing here?”

“Virgil and I realized it has been a couple days since we’ve seen you,” Logan said. “So we decided to make up for that with some ice cream.”

“Make up for that?” Patton asked in confusion. “You don’t need to make up for it, I was—” he swallowed. “Well, I was trying to give you space,” he finished, looking down as he started to fidget with his hands.

“Give us space?” Virgil asked, and for some reason he sounded confused. “Why would we want space? You’re our friend.”

“But… I did something to bother you,” Patton said. “Didn’t I?”

“You didn’t do anything to bother us,” Logan said, tipping his head slightly. “Why would you assume that?”

“Well, you seem uncomfortable around me all of a sudden,” Patton said hesitantly, and both Logan and Virgil instantly looked away. “See? Just like that! I’m just trying to give you space, so you don’t get mad or annoyed at me, that’s all,” Patton said.

“Okay, woah,” Virgil said, setting one of the tubs of ice cream down on the desk. “That’s not— Patton, just because we’re uncomfortable doesn’t mean you did something wrong. And we’re not going to get mad or annoyed at you.”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Logan said, before Virgil elbowed him in the arm.

Patton was confused again. “What do you mean the opposite?”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a glance, and finally, Virgil sighed. “Well, we kind of… I mean, we’re more uncomfortable because we both realized we…”

“We realized we both had romantic feelings for you,” Logan said plainly, and Patton’s eyes snapped open in shock.

Virgil winced. “Uh, yeah. That.”

Patton stared at them both for a minute, trying to process that. Unfortunately, he seemed to take too long, because Virgil started to look nervous.

“Uh, Pat? Could you say something? I get if you’re a little uncomfortable now, just… that’s why we’ve been uncomfortable, okay? We’ve been trying to figure out a way to bring it up.”

“Evidently we could have gone about it in a better way,” Logan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But we—”

“No,” Patton said suddenly. “No, you don’t.”

Now it was their turn to stare at him.

“No we don’t what?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Patton said, shaking his head firmly. “You don’t like me.”

Virgil blinked. “We kind of just told you we did,” he said.

“No,” Patton said firmly. “You’re wrong. You don’t like me. That’s not how this works.”

“How what works?” Virgil asked.

“I like you,” Patton said. “Both of you. But you don’t like me back. That’s not how this works.”

“Isn’t that kind of our decision?” Virgil asked, seeming baffled.

“No, you— you don’t understand,” Patton said. “You think you like me, but— but you’re both happy just together, like this. You don’t need me, you’d be fi—” he cut himself off, looking down at his hands.

There was a couple seconds of silence, and then suddenly Patton felt a hand under his chin, and Logan lifted his head very gently until he was looking him in the eyes.

“Just because we do not need you,” he said. “Does not mean we do not want you, Patton. That is not how this works.”

Patton shook his head. “But— but things will be so much harder with me,” he said. “It’ll be so much worse for you guys.”

“Uh, I don’t know what you think we have to deal with, but things are pretty hard already,” Virgil said. “I can’t imagine having another person we care about would make it worse.”

Patton shook his head. “I can’t— I don’t want to contribute to things you have to deal with,” Patton said.

“You’re not,” Logan said. “Patton, look at me.”

Patton did.

“You’re not. You are not responsible for other people’s behavior, or their opinions. I understand that’s not always an easy thing to accept, but it would not be your fault if we have hardships.”

“I kinda want to help you with yours,” Virgil said quietly. “If you’ll let me.”

Logan nodded. “The two of us agree on that front,” he said.

Patton looked back and forth between them both, trying to figure out what to make of any of this.

He ended up shaking his head again. “People don’t want me,” he said. “That’s not how this works.”

“Well it is now,” Virgil said.

“We would be very happy if you’d join us, Patton,” Logan said. “Though of course we understand if you’re not ready for that immediately.”

“I don’t think I am,” Patton said. “But that— um.” He curled in on himself tightly. “That sounds really nice,” he whispered.

Virgil moved forward to join both of them, and he and Logan both ended up sitting on the bed in front of him.

“May we hug you?” Logan asked.

Patton nodded, and suddenly he was wrapped in hugs from both of his friends, and he was starting to cry.

“Next time,” Virgil said softly. “Could you just talk to us? It’ll be more productive than hiding.”

Patton nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Okay I… I’ll try.”

“That’s appreciated,” Logan said, leaning his head against Patton’s.

They both stayed there until Patton stopped crying, but he didn’t get a sense of annoyance from either Virgil or Logan, which was nice.

Eventually, when he finally stopped sniffling, Virgil gave him one last squeeze and pulled back slightly. “Now, I don’t know about you,” he said. “But I want to eat this ice cream before it melts. Who’s game?”

“I am,” Patton said happily, pulling back too. Logan stood to grab the ice cream and bowls, and they all got some to eat on Patton’s bed.

And Patton found himself feeling okay for once.

…

Patton didn’t end up dating Virgil and Logan right away. It took a while to adapt to the fact that they actually wanted to be with him, and then longer for him to see it as something he deserved. There were days he still wasn’t sure if he was being honest with himself. It was a work in progress.

But things were better, and he had support now, from people he loved. Their relationship wasn’t easy when they had to deal with other people’s unwanted opinions, and people seemed to love to share them uninvited. But when it was just the three of them, it felt like the easiest thing in the world. They built each other up, and reassured each other. They balanced each other well.

And now that Patton didn’t have to try and hide his feelings, he made sure to show them at every possible opportunity. His loves got hugs and presents and affection (so long as they said okay, of course) until they were blushing and sputtering in response. It was his favorite thing in the world to make them happy.

Things were good, and to Patton’s eternal surprise and delight, the three of them stayed together for long enough that they started to plan a life together. They looked at colleges together, they discussed future plans and where they wanted to live, what they wanted to do. Logan wanted to teach. Virgil wrote music. Patton wanted to be a vet.

It took a lot of work to find a college that worked for all three of them, but Logan, with his education plan, could go just about anywhere, and they managed to find a college with a good vet program and a decent music program, though Virgil would probably have to go somewhere else eventually.

They settled into life there easier than Patton expected, though having his loves help definitely made everything easier. It had taken a long time for Patton to reach this point, but he really felt like he was starting to live his own life.

And then.

“We would have been fine without you,” the person snapped, and a deep hurt that Patton thought he’d buried rushed up all at once and tears welled in his eyes.

He barely registered the other person saying his other soulmark to him before he whispered “I’m sorry,” and rushed past them, just trying to get where he’d been heading.

He pulled out his phone with shaking hands as he walked and texted Virgil and Logan that he was sorry, and he knew they were both in class, but could one of them maybe get to the dining hall as soon as possible?

Neither of them responded, which made sense. They turned off their phones in class.

Patton ended up at a table alone, trying to breathe and calm himself down. At least no one else bothered him.

Or, well, that’s what he figured was going to happen, but at some point he got the sense of people approaching.

Assuming at first that it was Virgil and Logan, Patton glanced up, only to see his soulmates, again. What did they want from him now? Weren’t they done?

Maybe they wanted the table. Fine, whatever, Patton didn’t have the energy to fight them. He pushed back his chair and turned to leave, but before he could manage, the first one spoke up.

“No, please,” he said, holding out his hand.

Patton stopped. What did he want? Was he going to hurt him? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

But then he said, “Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

Patton leaned back, trying to get that sentence to process in his head.

“I—” the person started, but then stopped.

“Are you alright?” the other person asked, sitting hesitantly down while also pulling the chair back from the table. Patton wasn’t really sure why he did that, but he appreciated it. That didn’t mean he wanted to have this conversation, though.

“I— uh— I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he said, hoping that was all they wanted so then they could just go away.

“You don’t need to apologize,” the first one said.

Patton turned to face him, shoving his hands under the table so their shaking wouldn’t be obvious.

The person held up his hands, and leaned away from him. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said.

Patton paused. He didn’t… what?

“But… you’re… you’re them,” he said hesitantly. “Aren’t you?”

The first one nodded. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean what I said,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I was having a really awful day, and I snapped and said something I didn’t mean.”

Patton blinked. “Something you didn’t…” he blinked again. Something he didn’t mean? But that… that didn’t work. That didn’t work with Patton’s perspective, with his life, with the fact that no one ever seemed to want him, at least before Virgil and Logan.

“I’m… Roman,” the first one said. He gestured to his left. “This is Janus.”

Patton shook his head, still trying to process what was happening. “You… but you said… I thought…”

“I can imagine,” Janus said gently. “I’m so sorry things ended up this way. But neither of us hate you. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Patton shook his head again. He did not want to start crying, but he could feel tears welling up.

“No,” he said, because that couldn’t be true. “No, you haven’t. You said— you—” He took a shaky breath and pressed his hands over his eyes.

“Okay,” came the Janus person’s voice, and Patton hesitantly looked up again.

“I imagine this is overwhelming,” he said. “So how about…” He reached for a notebook and a pencil from Roman. Janus scribbled something down, tore out the paper, and passed it to Patton. Patton looked down to see their names and two phone numbers.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Janus said. Patton took the paper, not sure what to make of it.

“It doesn’t… it doesn’t have to be anytime soon,” Janus continued. He gave Patton a shaky smile. “But please know we really are looking forward to hearing from you.”

With that, he took Roman’s hand, and they both headed out of the dining hall, leaving Patton alone with a shifted worldview.

Patton didn’t have a ton of time to think on it, though, before his phone buzzed.

Virgil: I’m so sorry, I just got this, I’m coming now

Patton took a shaky breath and tucked the phone numbers in his pocket, then proceeded to stare down at the table.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, but it was long enough for a hand to gently touch his own. “Pat?”

Patton looked up to see Virgil. As soon as Virgil saw him, his eyes widened.

“Patton,” he said, moving quickly around the table and dropping into the chair next to him. He pulled Patton immediately to him. “Patton, babe, what happened?”

“I…” Patton pulled his sleeve down, hoping Virgil would be able to work it out, because he didn’t have the first clue how to explain.

Thankfully, Virgil glanced down at the movement, and he seemed to get it.

“Oh those fucking— Pat, I’m so sorry. I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

Patton shook his head. “They— they didn’t—”

Virgil pulled back slightly and looked around. “Let’s go somewhere more private, okay?”

Patton nodded, and they both headed out the back entrance, towards their dorm. Virgil pulled out his phone as he did to text Logan to meet them there.

It didn’t take them long to get back, and as soon as Virgil shut the door, he immediately pulled Patton into a hug again.

“I’m so sorry, Pat,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, it’s gonna be okay.”

Patton shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

“I do, I promise,” Virgil said. “I know I didn’t have two soulmates, but I still—”

“No, Virgil, they—” Patton reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone numbers. “They said sorry.”

Virgil’s gaze turned slightly confused. “Huh?”

“The one who said—” he gestured down at his wrist. “Roman. He said he didn’t mean it. He said he was having a bad day.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “He said fucking what? Is he serious? He thinks he just gets to brush it aside like that?”

Patton shook his head, but before he could respond, the door opened and Logan walked quickly in.

“I heard what happened,” he said, moving immediately over to stand next to Virgil across from Patton. “Starlight, are you okay?” he asked, reaching for his hand.

“I… I don’t know,” Patton said, looking down at the phone numbers. “They said they want to see me again.”

Logan’s face went blank instantly, the way it did when he was trying to suppress a large amount of anger. “They said what.”

“Apparently the Roman one was having a bad day,” Virgil said, giving Logan a ‘Can you believe this?’ look.

“Oh, is that all?” Logan deadpanned.

“No,” Patton said, because neither of them were hearing him. “You don’t understand. They weren’t… I don’t think it was like that.”

Logan turned to look at him, seeming unsure. “Starlight…”

“No,” Patton said again. “Would— would you guys please listen to me?”

Logan bit his lip, but nodded, turning to face him. Virgil turned too, and took a deep breath that meant he was trying to put aside his anger.

“Thank you,” Patton said. “Look, I… I really don’t think they were being cruel, or trying to brush aside what happened.” He looked down at his wrist. “Roman seemed really, genuinely sorry. And Janus… he said they’d wait for when I was ready. They said they understood if it wasn’t any time soon. I don’t…” Patton took a breath. “I don’t think they wanted to hurt me,” he said softly.

Virgil shook his head slightly. “But they did,” he said. “They can’t just expect you to be willing to set that aside. They did.”

“I don’t think they do expect me to be willing to set that aside,” Patton said. “I think they want to… I don’t know. Try again?”

Virgil scoffed, throwing his hands up. “Oh, sure, just like that!” he said. “After they caused you so much grief over the course of your life! Let’s start over!”

“Virgil,” Patton said, knowing Virgil wasn’t going to like this next part. “I don’t know how much we can blame them for that.”

Virgil stared at him. “And why the hell not?”

“I’m supposed to blame them for something before they even did it?” Patton asked. “When they said they didn’t really mean it? When they apologized immediately?”

“And why the hell not?” Virgil said again. “That Roman idiot was the one who said it!”

“Virgil,” Patton said gently. “He said he was having a bad day. We’ve all hurt each other in stupid ways after bad days. We apologize for it and move on.”

“Our hurt hasn’t caused life-long effects,” Logan said quietly.

Patton nodded, wiping at his eyes before the tears building there could fall. “I know,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s a part we can blame them for.”

Logan gave Patton an unsure and sad look, and Patton smiled sadly back.

“Wait,” Virgil said. “Are you saying all of this because you’re saying you want to see them again?”

Patton bit his lip, and nodded.

“Patton,” Virgil said, dropping his arms to his side.

“It’s my choice,” Patton said, crossing his arms. “I think I should at least hear them out, while I’m not, you know, on the edge of a breakdown.”

Virgil looked down at his feet. “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he said quietly. “Especially not in a way that could be so easily avoided.”

“I know,” Patton said. “But I think I want to try this. I think it might be a good thing.”

Virgil looked like he very strongly disagreed, but he didn’t say anything else.

Logan sighed next to him. “Very well,” he said. “I respect your choice, Patton, even if I do not agree with it.”

Virgil grumbled vaguely in agreement.

“Thank you,” Patton said, smiling just a little. “But I was wondering…”

“Yes?” Logan asked.

Patton bit his lip, knowing this would be a lot to ask them. “I was wondering if you would come with me?”

“Absolutely,” Virgil said instantly. “You’re not doing this alone.”

“Agreed,” Logan said with a nod. “We will be right there with you, Starlight.”

Patton smiled wider, and moved forward to pull both his loves into a hug. “I love you both so much,” he said. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

“Mm, respect your choice don’t agree with it,” Virgil muttered, even as he hugged him back.

Patton laughed, and squeezed Virgil a little tighter.

Maybe this would all work out alright after all.

...

Chapter Three

#sanders sides #soulmate au #moxiety #logicality #analogical #analogicality #romoceit #royaliceit #patton x virgil x logan #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders angst #my fic

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fangurk · 4 years

Text

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight fanfiction #eclipse #twilight wolf imagines #embry call #jared cameron #sam uley

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bratkook · 4 years

Text

like you used to. jjk

“So kill me like you used to...”

part two.

pairing. ex boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre. angst, mentions of smut, toxic exes warnings. very toxic depictions of relationships, hints at infidelity, drunken mistakes, they’re both very toxic for each other and just can’t stay away, brief mentions of smut word count. 2.9k note. this is just a lump of angst that my mind conjured at 1am last night, i just love angst and messy relationships that are destined to fail 😌(its not edited so if u see a typo no u dont)

It always started with a phone call.

Whether it was from you or him always changed. Sometimes he’d get the call at two in the morning, vision blurry as he brought the phone to his face and saw your name illuminated on the screen, that old goofy selfie you had together still set as your contact photo. He’d hesitate for a moment just to keep you on your toes before pressing accept, already getting up and putting pants on because he knew just what you were calling for.

Tonight was your turn to be on the receiving end, laying in bed comfortably as you scrolled through random posts to try to help you sleep, the flash of his face fills your phone, it’s a random close up photo of his eyes staring right into the camera, crinkled up in a smile. Even though his name is changed in your contacts, no longer having the cute bunny emoji tacked to the end, you know you’ll still pick up in a heartbeat. And you do.

The second you press accept you’re met with the familiar sound of his voice, slurred and thick as he speaks so jumbled up you would barely be able to understand him if you didn’t already know what he was saying. It was the same things he always said whenever he got like this, proclamations of love that only cut up your freshly scabbed over wounds, salt rubbing into them when he cries about how he misses you, promises to change.

They get cut off when the phone is yanked away from his grasp, the second familiar voice belonging to his buddy Yugyeom now speaking into the receiver. “You gotta pick him up Y/N.”

The annoyance is evident in his voice, the babbling of Jungkook still heard in the background along with the dull beat of whatever place they were outside of.

“He’s not my responsibility Yugyeom.”

He simply sighs into the phone, staring at his mess of a friend before rubbing his jaw, sore and aching from where he had just been socked after attempting to force him into an uber. “Yeah well he won’t let anyone else take him home, he’s drunk as fuck. I’ll send you the location.”

Not waiting for a response he hangs up and sends you a pin of where they’re at, thrusting the phone back into his friend’s hands before getting into that uber and leaving Jungkook alone while he whines against the dirty bar wall, crouching down onto the filthy sidewalk as the car drove off.

Yugyeom knew you would come to his rescue like you always did, never once saying no and letting Jungkook fend for himself because on the rare occasions where you’d call him drunk and crying he’d do the same.

Getting into the car still dressed in your pajamas, shoes thrown on without being laced up, hair still messy, it felt like routine now from how often it happened. Jungkook called you sober, text you while in a sane state of mind, but without fail at least once a month he’d get absolutely shit faced and call you, leaving you what he thought were heartfelt voicemails if by some chance you didn’t answer.

It was the same bar every time, a bar you used to frequent with him, knowing the location and all the small side streets to get you there without needing directions. Doing this felt like such a normal part of your life it almost made you forget that you and Jungkook weren’t together anymore. It’s been a year since you split and you still find yourself thinking if things could be different.

Would it have been best if you never confessed to each other, never admitted to the small inkling of a crush before it was able to fully blossom? It was hard not to wonder how different life would be now if you had walked away the first time things went south, if he had walked away after the first argument.

Whenever he called you, pulled you in with those drunken promises it was easy to convince yourself that your relationship was perfect, that it was worth all of the struggles. Your brain morphed each fight, each time you cried alone, twisted it around and molded it to make it easier to consume, easier to believe you were meant to be.

You thought you were soulmates, and maybe you were, two people destined to be together, meeting at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances. What was meant to be perfect puzzle pieces connected had slowly turned into jagged edges that no longer clicked regardless of how hard you tried to jam them together, foolishly thinking you could spill your love into the gaps to mend the spaces, making the pieces whole once more.

Love was never enough.

Love made you stupid, made you blind and gullible, smiling through lies to avoid arguments, going to bed angry until he was hovering over you, coaxing you into forgiveness with soft kisses and gentle touches. It always went this way, regardless of who’s fault it was without fail he’d end up slot between your legs, the only time the puzzle pieces connected perfectly, allowing him to fuck you as if he’d never see you again. Murmurs of love and adoration were passed between panting breaths, sloppy kisses, shared moans to mask the empty promises you made every time.

Staying away from each other was a hard habit to kick, the two of you stuck on an endless game of seesaw, neither of you having the guts to get off and move on. All it took was a simple drunk phone call for you to go his way, the slur of his voice as he cries into the receiver about how much he loved you, missed you, needed you next to him, wanted to try again. It reeled you in so easily, winding you up until you were hauling your sloppy ex boyfriend off the dirty floor and into your small car.

He remembers none of this, he never did, not fully anyways. Small tidbits of words he said flash in his mind as he comes to, drool on his cheek and neck sore from the unfortunate position he had slept in, groggy and unaware of his surroundings.

He knew your apartment too well, recognized the green wall he had helped you paint, now holding endless pictures of you and your friends. None of Jungkook anymore.

All of those photos were gone now, not burned or shredded in some ritual to get over him, simply tucked into a box and shoved so far into your closet you hoped you would forget it. You never did of course, the way the box laid dust free made it clear how often you pulled it out and sorted through the photos whenever you had too much wine, whenever you had off days where you just felt so alone and wished you could go back to the times you had convinced yourself were better. They weren’t, you knew they weren’t once you sobered up and balanced out your emotions.

Jungkook doesn’t feel bothered that not a trace of him remained visible in your home, he knew his presence lingered in the cracks, buried so deep in the crevices of your mind he knew you would always think of him.

He groans softly as his eyes roam the interior of your home, the throbbing in his temples making him stop and shut his lids, not needing to analyze the place he was at less than two weeks ago when you had called him over. Jungkook briefly wonders if he should sneak his way out, not used to waking up on the couch instead of in your bed right beside you, maybe he had said something last night that crossed the line and landed him on the couch as a punishment.

As you finally emerge from your room his plan of escape is put to a stop, his eyes gravitating towards your bedroom door, seeing the way you cautiously step out. Having heard Jungkook wake up since you had already been awake for the past hour, your body not allowing you to sleep while knowing he was in the other room, it took a few minutes of courage before you were able to face him.

Spotting him on your couch shows how much he doesn’t belong, the pinned leather jacket he wore looking so harsh against the light coloring of your furniture, his dark disheveled hair contrasting with the tidy way you organized your apartment. He senses it, the skin crawling sensation that spreads the longer you stare at him, how he felt so out of place somewhere he used to call home at one point.

“Thank you for picking me up.” He chooses to break the silence, voice raspy, his internal self screaming at him for always doing this. His eyes are sincere, genuinely meaning it, knowing just how messy he got when he had too much to drink, how his friends could never handle him when he crossed the line and began to call for you.

Like always his words were routine so he expects it when you huff and say, “You need better friends Jungkook.”

“I know.” Because he did, he knew his friends enabled him, riled him up and once he became too much they pushed him onto you, knowing Jungkook’s grip on you was still too strong for you to ever say no.

“What if I hadn’t picked you up? Would they have left you on the side of the bar to fend for yourself?”

“Probably,” he shrugs, from past experiences he knows very well they would have. His friends had dealt with Jungkook crying over you far too much, their patience fully stamped out, no longer able to tolerate him when he became like this.

Not even realizing when he begins to smile as he thought of the nights you didn’t pick up, how he had ended up in the most random locations because he refused to go home to a place you weren’t, he snaps out of it when you scoff. “It’s not funny Jungkook, you could have gotten hurt or something.”

There it was, the reason you were upset. Not because he had called you and spewed the same bullshit he always did, no that you could tolerate. You were upset, and worried, that you’d get a following call from someone stating he had injured himself while calling for you.

“I know.”

You pause to breathe, his short responses not irking you like it should, arms crossed over your chest as you observe your ex boyfriend still sitting on the couch, looking like a scolded child.

“You can’t call me anymore Jungkook.” How you have the nerve to say that to him is funny, acting as if ten days ago you weren’t the one doing this to him, telling him you missed him, securing your anchor around his foot and dragging him back under with you.

This is the checklist you needed to go down, a formality of the morning after so he doesn’t mind it. Instead he frowns at the way you continue to say his name, the way it rolls off your tongue makes him wince, missing the way you’d call him Kookie, playful pet names like Bunny, something he swore he hated but secretly loved. Jungkook wished he could hear you say it again, humor you with that damned bunny eared headband he’d wear to hear you laugh, squeal as he posed and dance for whatever silly video you recorded as you shouted out the ridiculous nickname.

The last time he heard those words spill out of your mouth had been too long ago.

“I’m sorry.” he admits, he knew he had to stop, couldn’t continue to hold onto the past, knowing how wrong you were for each other but he wasn’t the only one. Those were the same words you told him ten days ago, apologizing with guilty eyes for asking him to come over when you were lonely, needing a familiar body to occupy the space next to you, wanting his hands to soothe you, make you feel whole again just for a night.

Once the sun came up it was back to normal, the two of you having the repeat conversation you had every time, the exact one you were having now. A formality. Nothing more, just mindless words that you would both agree to just to move along, to make you both feel better, more secure with yourself until the next time the phone rang.

Your heart twists in your chest as you look at him, the same toxic love you had for him brewing in your heart, spilling over and burning you but you ignore the pain, convince yourself you don’t feel it as you breathe in. That same rope latches around Jungkook’s ankle as you avert your eyes for a brief second before looking back at him with a small sigh. “Do you want breakfast? I know how you get when you have a hangover.”

He smiles for the first time, charming as always, looking up at you through the subtle waves in his hair. “I probably shouldn’t.”

You know this. He definitely shouldn’t because breakfast will turn into words exchanged, civil at first, flirty the next, a coin flipped to decide if a petty argument would begin or if you’d reminisce about the good times. Regardless of the outcome, what always followed ended with you moaning out his name as he rocked into you, those same empty promises spilling through his lips that you swallowed with a kiss.

A brief moment of bliss, a small dose of the past that only serves to hurt you further but you crave it, loving the small rush that came with arguing, the roughness of his hands as he pushed you around before sliding home, burying his face into your neck as he broke you down all over again.

Normally you’d try to convince him further, but as your mouth opens to protest you get flashes of the night before, how you had carried Jungkook up your flight of stairs, hearing him ramble about nonsense so slurred together you paid it no mind. You would have had him sleep in your bed beside you like you always did but when you fish his phone out and begin to slide his jacket off it buzzes to life.

Always being nosey you type in his password, smiling when you realize it was still your old anniversary but when you unlock it and see a flood of messages from a girl named Natalie, calling him babe, asking where he was, the smile falls from your face as you start to snoop.

It doesn’t take much scrolling through their thread of messages to easily discover she was his girlfriend, blissfully unaware that he was shit faced and calling you, confessing to his love for you while she laid at home and wondered if he was having fun with his friends. She reminded you of yourself, of the way you used to be with him and it left a sour feeling on your tongue.

“Yeah you probably shouldn’t.”

He stands up now, following you slowly as you approach the door, heavy boots thumping on the hardwood as he reluctantly steps closer to the exit. He doesn’t want to leave, wants you to try to convince him to stay, not knowing that you knew the dirty secret he was hiding buried in his phone.

You don’t decide to tell him you know, it was pointless. That was just how Jungkook was wired, so much love to give he had to spread it out, give everyone a fair share of it, choosing to pretend he wasn’t being selfish. It was naive to believe it, to think all the love he held was strictly for you, it was why he was able to pull the hood over your eyes so easily.

Even when you pull the door open and give him a tightlipped smile he knows you’ll still call him, forget all about Natalie when you’re lonely once more. So when you look him in the eyes and sigh, “Goodbye Jungkook.” He knows it’s not for long, maybe a week or so, maybe less.

He simply smiles, stuffing his hands into his jeans as he shuffles out, turning to face you as he steps backwards. “See you later Y/N.” And his words sting in a way he doesn’t mean, knowing just how right he was.

Jungkook would never mind how heavy the anchor you hooked on his ankle was because he knew you would forever be a sucker for him.

As you shut the door behind you it feels like a small weight starts to hang from your shoulders, the same tug starting from your chest, guiding you into your room until you’re pulling out the cursed box and sorting through those damned photos. With stinging eyes you flip through them for a moment, focusing on all the laughs captured on film, blurry vision moving to your phone beside you, hands already itching to call him again.

It’s as if he knows, still inside your building, lingering in the lobby to give you a moment and it doesn’t take long. Once his phone starts to vibrate he smiles, staring at the photo of you as you call him like clockwork. With a clear of his throat he answers the phone, barely saying hello before he hears a small sniffle through the speaker.

“I miss you Kookie.”

Jungkook lets his eyes shut as he presses the elevator button, loving the feeling of being needed by you, already knowing to head back up because this was routine.

“I know you do baby, I’ll be right up.”

And just like that you’re once again desperately trying to make those stupid puzzle pieces fit together, hoping that maybe this time love would be enough.

#ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #heartsforbts #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts angst #jeon jungkook #new

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ppangjae · 4 years

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PLANET GIRL | part 1

SUMMARY. When Jaehyun turned twenty-one, he started to hear his soulmate’s voice singing an unfamiliar song in his head. He should be happy, right? Wrong. There are two things wrong with this:

He’s taken. He’s off the market. He’s in a 3-year relationship and,

The voice singing in his head is not his girlfriend’s voice.

Now what?

WORD COUNT. 6k+ words

author’s note. after much consideration, i decided to post this fic in three parts so that it’s not as hectic! you know me, i love adding ✨drama ✨ now, before you come at me for posting this and not a made to fall in love update, this first part of this fic has been done since mid-september. i’d rather release it than let it collect dust in my drafts. so yes, here she is. happy reading!

taglist: @billiondollarworth @cafemochi @stae-yong @chanyeolscoon @ggaayyyong @soothingjae @taestannie @plump-peach @oshmendes @lanadreamie @justineasian @jjpmoans @beryllium-io @jaeismytamtation @noonapabo127 @hanniesbubble

PART ONE. cupid | PART TWO. jupiter | 2.5 intermission | PART THREE. PLANET GIRL

“Mark, get your ass over here before I do it myself!”

“Holy shit, what’s the rush?”

“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And what about it?”

It’s that time of the year again; Valentine’s Day. It’s the day where people fall in love or get their hearts broken. But to you, it’s the day where you’re designated to a new target. To put it simply, you’re Cupid. You are part of a family of Cupid’s. However, you hate being called Cupid, you moreso see yourself as a matchmaker.

Every Valentine’s Day, you’re designated to a new target. As a matchmaker, it is your responsibility to make your target fall in love within one year. If you fail to complete your mission, you will be stripped of your abilities of matchmaking.

Last year, your target was Johnny. Johnny was an easy target to work with, for he fell in love with the local cafe barista within three months. The two of them are happily dating now and it’s almost as if they’re still in their honeymoon phase.

Two years ago, your target was your roommate Mark. It took a while for him to fall in love. He was quite difficult to work with because he was so focused on his studies that he barely batted an eyelash at a human of the opposite sex. But you still managed to do it and all it took was to introduce him to Mina, the studious chemistry student who’s been crushing on him since freshman year.

But this year, you’re not quite sure who to expect.

“Are you getting your new assignment tomorrow?” Mark finally enters your room after what seems like forever, falling against your bed. He lands and lets out a soft ‘oof!’. You turn away from your desktop to face him.

“Of course,” you reply with a quirk of an eyebrow. “What kind of question is that? Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, the day of love and the day of heartbreak.”

“Are you excited?”

“Not the slightest bit.” You let out a tiring sigh.

“Why not?” He frowns.

“Because I have to stress over someone else’s love life for another damn year.” You shrug your shoulders as you explain. “I already have other things to stress out over.”

“You’re always granted a year per love assignment. A year is enough to make someone fall in love, right?”

You laugh. “A year per love assignment? I wish a year was enough. A year goes by with a blink of an eye. Before you know it, it’s Valentine’s Day again.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. Why don’t you just skip out on the matchmaking just for this year?” He suggests and you shake your head.

“I can’t.” You purse your lips into a tight line.

He lets out a snort. “I’m sure it’s possible—”

“It’s impossible.”

There are many great things about being a Cupid; you help people fall in love with each other and the outcome is always beautiful. But there are also many downfalls about being a Cupid, one of them being cursed to never fall in love. You’ve always craved the feeling of being loved by someone. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re needy for love. But the closest you’ll ever feel to being in love is witnessing the love being shared by two people, specifically between your love assignment and their soulmate.

You wonder how it feels to have someone care for you. You wonder how it feels to be sought after. You wonder how it feels to hug someone and hold their hand. But you guess you’ll never know because you’ll never experience it.

“God, I want to throw up.”

Johnny lets out a snort as the both of you pass by the seasonal section of the department store. There’s a plethora of Valentine’s Day chocolates on the shelves, along with teddy bears and heart plushies. Seeing the bright, flashing red on the days leading up to Valentine’s Day is surely a sore to the eye.

“I know, it makes me want to poke my eyes out.” Johnny sighs.

“And what are we here for again?” You ask Johnny as you follow him to the baked goods section of the department store. Your question seems to be answered when you find yourselves standing in front of a shelf filled with ready-made birthday cakes. You quirk an eyebrow. “Who’s birthday is it? It’s definitely not Mark’s birthday, don’t even try to trick me.”

“It’s Jaehyun’s birthday tomorrow, I figured it would be sweet of me to get him a birthday cake.” He shrugs his shoulders as he points between two cakes on the shelves. “This one or this one?”

You point at the plain birthday cake on the left. “This one. You know what would be really funny? If you printed his face on the cake.”

Johnny looks at you and squints his eyes. “You're a genius.”

You have no idea who Jaehyun is. You don’t even know what he looks like. You’ve only heard of him through Johnny. The both of them host the university’s famous evening radio show, Night Night with JohnJae. You’re a listener of their show, mainly because you are supportive of your best friend Johnny. You’re sure Jaehyun is a great guy, especially since Johnny and Jaehyun share good chemistry with each other. You’ll probably get along with him well if you met him. But that encounter has yet to happen.

As Johnny hands the cake over to the bakery chef to print Jaehyun’s face on it, he turns towards you. “And now we wait.”

“What time do you have to be at the studio?” You question.

He looks down at his watch. “I’ll make it on time. By the way, Mark has been making great song requests by this SoundCloud artist. From what he tells me, the artist is a student from our university.”

You quirk an eyebrow, gulping nervously. “Who’s this SoundCloud artist?”

“Planet Girl.” Johnny pulls out his phone and opens up the music app before handing it over for you to see. You stare at the artist’s profile. “Do you know her?”

You shake your head in reply. “Unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Damn,” Johnny lets out a sigh. “I was hoping you did. Jaehyun and I want her to be a guest on the show, it could probably help her get more attention in the industry.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you purse your lips into a tight line. “I only know so many people in my program. I have a very small, closely knitted group of friends. They are the only people I’ve known since I stepped on campus in freshman year.”

“I was hoping you’ve heard of her, at least.” He chuckles. “But damn, her music is so good. I can’t wait until her mixtape drops. I’m sure it’ll be such a banger.”

“I should probably check her out.”

“You should!” Johnny exclaims. “I wonder who she is.”

You fiddle with your fingers. You stare at Johnny who’s scrolling through the SoundCloud artist’s profile, adding a couple of the artist’s songs to his playlists. You blink and with a slight tilt of your head, you clear your throat. “Yeah, me too—”

“I have an order for Johnny!”

11:51 pm.

“Right before we sign off for the night, do you have anything to say to our listeners?”

Johnny has a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. He comes back into the studio with a birthday cake. It’s not just your typical birthday cake. It’s a birthday cake with Jaehyun’s face on it and it’s blown out in an odd proportion. The candles aren’t birthday candles either, in fact, they’re heart-shaped candles, perfect for Valentine’s Day. Jaehyun lets out a sigh. What is he going to do with Johnny?

“I just wanted to greet our handsome radio host slash Valentine boy, Jaehyun, a happy birthday! We have—” Johnny glances down at his wristwatch before continuing. “—nine more minutes before it’s officially Jaehyun’s birthday and Valentine’s Day. And what’s better than celebrating it with a birthday cake?”

“Is that my face?”

“Who else would it be, doofus?” Johnny scoffs, pulling out a lighter to light the candles. Jaehyun lets out a snort as Johnny starts to sing him a happy birthday. After the happy birthday song, Johnny frowns and sends him a death glare. “Why aren’t you getting emotional? I did all of this to get that reaction?”

Jaehyun gives him a look. “And so as we sign off for the night, I just wanted to thank Johnny for his efforts in kicking off my birthday on a high note. I also want to greet everyone with a Happy Valentine’s Day. Whether you are happily dating someone or admiring someone from afar, just know that you are all in our hearts.”

“Stop being greasy.” Johnny winces. “Anyways, we’re going to sign off for the night with a song request from Mark Lee! Goodnight and see you tomorrow, here is Loose by Daniel Caesar.”

They turn their microphones off and Johnny pushes the birthday cake towards him. “Quick! Make a wish before the candles go out.”

Jaehyun clasps his hands together and makes a wish. With a satisfied grin, his eyes flutter open and he blows out the candles. Johnny’s taking a video of him blowing out the candles before dipping his finger into the icing. Jaehyun gives him a warning look but it’s too late because Johnny smears the icing on his cheek.

“You little shit—”

“It’s midnight! Happy birthday, Jaehyun!”

12:01 am.

It all happens quickly. Johnny’s dipping his fingers into the icing to smear more of it on Jaehyun’s cheeks. Jaehyun hears a slight ringing in his ears and his eyebrows knit together. Johnny doesn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable Jaehyun feels until he’s about to smear his cheeks with icing.

“Jaehyun, are you alright?” Johnny asks him with a concerned look.

The ringing in his ears halts to a stop. He remembers this. He remembers his father telling him that he experienced a distinct ringing in his ears before he started to hear his mother’s voice humming in his head. Jaehyun blinks. The ringing in his ears causes him to see different specks of colours, red, blue, and even green. He feels like his head is spinning. He feels like he’s going to pass out. But it only happens for a brief moment.

Suddenly, he hears a soft voice humming a melody in his head. In an instant, the soft humming in his head stops him from seeing colours and he no longer feels faint. He’s too absorbed in his thoughts to snap back to reality. Johnny is waving his hand in his face to pull him out of his trance. Jaehyun sucks in a deep breath, almost like he’s gasping for air. The soft humming in his head slowly turns into a voice that’s singing an unfamiliar song. He’s never heard this song before.

Johnny sighs with relief when Jaehyun snaps out of his deep trance. Jaehyun looks at Johnny with slightly widened eyes.

“Johnny, I think we have a problem.”

Johnny snorts. “What are you talking about? You’re probably just tired. We should head back to the dorms before you knock out cold in the studio again.”

Jaehyun runs his fingers through his hair. “R-Right. We should probably go.”

Johnny rests his hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s—everything’s alright.” Jaehyun stutters.

No, nothing’s alright. Nothing’s okay.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out to see a new text notification from his girlfriend.

ara (12:03 am): happy birthday my love! and happy valentine’s day! i love you 3000.

Jaehyun just turned twenty-one. Not only that, but he just started to hear his soulmate’s voice in his head. He should be happy, right? Wrong. There are two things wrong with this:

He’s taken. He’s off the market. He’s in a 3-year relationship and,

The voice singing in his head is not his girlfriend’s voice.

Well, shit. Now what?

It’s the day you dread with your entire existence; Valentine’s Day. The campus couples flock to the local cafes and parks, the dormitories and even the campus football field. It truly makes you want to throw up. If you could take a shot of vodka for every time you’ve witnessed a couple kissing or giving each other their Valentine’s Day chocolates, you’d be shitfaced drunk by now.

The only person keeping you sane is Mark. But even with Mark’s presence, he’s too absorbed by the presence of his own girlfriend, Mina. You guess this will do. It’s not like you really have a choice.

Today, you’re going to get your new love assignment. You’re not sure who to expect. Every year, it’s become less surprising and more disappointing. You guess it has to do with your aching desire for love, but you’re not going to dive deep into that.

You’ll know who your love assignment is when you meet their eyes. When you meet your love assignment’s eyes, you won’t see yourself reflected through their eyes, but their soulmate, their partner you’re supposed to link them to. The moment you witness it, your year to make them fall in love begins.

Be careful though, time is ticking.

“Can you guys stop talking to each other in baby voices?” You snap at the couple sitting next to you on the picnic blanket.

The couple had decided to bring you along on their picnic date, just because they figured that you needed to ‘spice’ your life up a bit. You feel like a huge burden to them because whenever you’re with them, all you do is complain about all the things they do as a couple. Could you really blame yourself at this point?

“Y/N, if only you had a boyfriend, you would know how it feels.” Mina sticks her tongue out at you and you feel your eye twitch.

Mark lets out a nervous laugh. “Y/N is an independent woman who doesn’t need a man—”

“Yeah, your boyfriend’s right.” You cut him off, looking at Mina dead straight in the eyes. “Got a problem with that?”

“Stop giving me attitude—”

“And stop acting like I didn’t help you and Mark get together.” You snap.

She smiles and laughs sheepishly. As she gets up onto her two feet, she dusts off her straight-cut jeans before pointing towards the local cafe. “Do you guys want anything? My treat.”

“I’ll have the usual,” Mark replies. “Take my card—”

“Babe, no—”

“I’m not letting you pay for our drinks again—”

You let out a scowl, placing some cash into Mina’s hand. “Here. I’ll pay. I’m this close to ripping my hair off my scalp and it’s because of you two.”

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Mina frowns. “You’ve been petty all day.”

“Get me a double shot on ice,” you mutter. “No sugar or cream. Got it?”

“You’re just like how you like your coffee,” Mina folds her arms. “Bitter.”

As Mina is walking away from you and Mark, you fall back against the picnic blanket. The clouds come by in funny shapes today. You spot a tiny, heart-shaped cloud floating past in the blue skies. You snort, love seems to be everywhere today, even in the skies. Your eyes flutter shut. You’re so close to dozing off into a quick nap until you hear a loud yell from a couple of metres away. It’s too late for you to open your eyes and see who’s yelling because the moment you do, there’s a soccer ball flying in the air. The size of the soccer ball grows when you start to realize that it’s literally going to land right on your face—

“Nice save, dude.” Mark says as he looks at you with amusement. Just in time and with your fast instincts, you managed to cover your face with the palms of your hands to catch the ball.

Mark’s pulling you up into a seated position. As you sit up, you see someone approaching you from the corner of your eye.

“I’m so sorry about that!” A soft voice exclaims and you turn to your right. You look up at a woman around your age. She has long black hair and a soft face. She looks warmhearted. Her vibe radiates happiness and happy-go-lucky, welcoming and sociable. Everything you’re not. She’s sporting a soccer jersey and a pair of athletic joggers. “Are you alright? I hope you didn’t get hurt or anything.”

You wave it off. “I’m A-okay. There’s nothing to worry about. Here’s your soccer ball.”

She slightly bends down to retrieve her ball. Her long black hair blocks your eyesight for a brief moment until the wind blows it away. Your eyes meet hers and a soft gasp threatens to escape your lips.

You’ll know who your love assignment is when you meet their eyes. Her eyes are a nice warm brown, shining underneath the sunlight. You swear you could see stars in her eyes. No, scratch that, you can see galaxies and stars in her eyes.

When you meet your love assignment’s eyes, you won’t see yourself reflected through their eyes, but their soulmate. And indeed, you look at her with slight surprise and shock when you don’t see your own reflection through her eyes. Instead, you see what seems to be a soccer player. The more you look into her eyes, the more information you obtain about her soulmate. He slowly turns around and it reveals his name on the back of his soccer jersey—

“Yuta?” You whisper.

The woman’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. She takes her ball and straightens up her posture. “Thanks again. What’s your name? I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

You snap out of it. “Y/N! My name’s Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

She smiles and her eyes form into beautiful crescents. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Ara. I should probably get going before I run late for lecture. See you around?”

You nod your head vigorously. “Yeah, I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you too, take care.”

You find yourself staring at her as she walks away. Mark looks at you as you seem to fall into a deep trance. He follows your gaze that falls on Ara. “Hey, is everything alright?”

You tear your gaze away from her to look at Mark. “What’s her name again?”

Mark looks at you with a funny smile. “You forgot her name already? Her name’s Ara.”

“Mark,” you gulp nervously. “She’s my love assignment for this year.”

Mark’s face pales. His funny smile vanishes from his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. You can’t seem to comprehend the expression on his face but you know that something’s not good. There’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach as Mark’s mouth hangs open.

“You’re joking, right?” Mark frowns. “How could Ara be your love assignment? That’s—That’s impossible, I—”

You shake your head. “I’m not joking. I didn’t see myself reflected through her eyes, I saw Yuta—”

“You saw Jaehyun.” Mark cuts you off. “Right? Jaehyun. You saw Jaehyun, right?”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Why would I see Jaehyun? I didn’t see Jaehyun. I saw Yuta, the university’s soccer team player. He was wearing a jersey and he turned around. I saw his name printed on his jersey. Nakamoto Yuta—”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.” Mark winces.

“I’m not kidding!” You exclaim in a panicked voice. “Why would I be kidding?”

Mark palms his forehead and lets out a laugh of disbelief. He shakes his head. You stare at him questioningly. What’s happening? What’s going on?

“Mark, you’re confusing me.” You say with worry etched on your face. “I am telling you the truth. I saw Nakamoto Yuta reflected in her eyes—”

“Ara is Jaehyun’s girlfriend. They’ve been dating for three years. Now you’re telling me that Ara’s your love assignment and you don’t see Jaehyun reflected in her eyes… but Yuta?”

“Holy shit.”

“I’m back with our drinks! Wait, what’s wrong? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

The image of Yuta’s reflection in Ara’s eyes never seems to leave your mind. In fact, it has been the only thing haunting you ever since. The revelation leaves you in nothing but a spiralling mess. You are required to make Ara fall in love with her soulmate, who so happens to be Yuta. But at the same exact time, to complete your mission, you must do something to end Ara’s relationship with Jaehyun.

You wish it was a joke.

It all comes down to whether you have the heart to lead Ara to her destined soulmate and end her relationship with Jaehyun or leave things for her to figure out but lose your matchmaking abilities as a Cupid.

The sticky situation makes you want to pull your hair off your scalp. It makes you want to look up to the heavens and yell at your ancestors for being Cupids, for passing down their matchmaking abilities to every generation after them, and for passing down the curse of never falling in love.

“Stop thinking about it too much, it’s making you age faster.”

You glare at Mark. “I don’t even know Jaehyun personally but I’m sure he’s a great guy who deserves everything in the entire universe, not some soccer player and a so-called Cupid to ruin his three-year relationship with Ara.”

“What happens if you don’t make Ara fall in love with her soulmate within a year—oh, Johnny, hey!”

Your mouth clamps shut and your head whips around. Johnny occupies the empty seat next to you and greets you with a light nudge. He nods his head at Mark. “What happens if what?”

Mark gulps nervously. He lets out a squeak. “Nothing!”

Mark makes eye contact with you and you give him a warning gaze. Johnny shrugs his shoulders and brushes off the conversation by starting a new one. “Tonight at six. Jaehyun’s apartment. We’re going to have a chicken and beer night.”

“This is exactly what I needed—” Mark points at him.

“I think I’ll have to pass on that one. I have a—”

“Uh, no you’re not.” Johnny shakes his head. “What excuse are you going to tell me this time? Your excuses are getting lamer every time. It’s quite obvious.”

You sigh. “I’d rather study. Besides, I have a midterm coming up and the last thing I want is to tank it.”

“It’s just one night. Chicken and beer. Who turns down chicken and beer? With friends, too?” Mark tries to convince you but you’re using your eyes to communicate the idea that this will not turn out well.

“Who’s coming?” You tear your gaze away from Mark when he doesn’t seem to take a hint. You’re reaching for your water bottle to take a quick sip of water.

“It’ll be me, Mark, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Ara,” Johnny recalls the guests from the top of his head. “Oh! Yuta is coming too—”

You choke on your water. As you’re going through a coughing fit, Mark grabs your water bottle to prevent any more water from spilling onto the table. Johnny pats your back. “Y-Yuta? As in, Nakamoto Yuta?”

Johnny smiles. “Indeed. Why? Do you have a crush on him or something—”

“No!” You and Mark blurt out in unison.

Johnny gives you both a funny look. “Okay, geez, I was just joking around. Unless, you do, have a crush on Yuta, Y/N—”

“Look who we have here.”

It’s a foreign yet familiar voice. You’ve heard that voice somewhere. You sneak a quick glance at Mark, whose eyes are wide like saucers. You could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he gulps nervously. Mark’s eyes trail down to meet yours.

“Jaehyun! Ara! Perfect timing!”

Definitely not perfect timing. You mirror Mark with the same wide eyes. It’s almost as if you’ve shrivelled up or froze up into an ice statue. Johnny doesn’t seem to notice you shoving your things into your tote bag out of sheer panic. Mark’s eyes dart between you and the newly-arrived couple.

“Hey, sorry, I completely forgot that I have a meeting with my group for our project.” It comes out as a squeak. Everyone’s looking at you and you can’t find the strength to look at any of them in the eye. But you can surely feel the attention that’s been shifted towards you.

“Leaving already?” Johnny pouts. “I just got here—”

“Sorry!” You exclaim, standing up from your seat and making a beeline for the exit doors of the study room. You look over your shoulder. Johnny has a cute pout on his lips as he watches you scurry away from them. “I’ll make it up to you!”

“You’ll make it up to me by joining us tonight for chicken and beer!”

When Jaehyun and Ara take up the spot you used to sit at, Mark can’t help but look at Ara with round eyes. He just can’t seem to look at Ara the same way anymore, especially when she’s with Jaehyun. Mark decides to settle his gaze on Jaehyun instead, but he still feels the same. He can’t look at Jaehyun the same way either. The first person that comes to mind when he looks at the couple sitting across from him is Nakamoto Yuta. The second and last person that comes to mind is you.

There are two innocent people being brought into this mess. It’s you and Yuta.

And what’s worse is that Jaehyun and Ara are just as innocent.

You and Mark find yourselves standing in front of Jaehyun’s door. Surprisingly, it’s quiet. You don’t hear Johnny’s loud voice through the thin door. Instead, right when Mark knocks on the door, you hear someone’s faint shuffling that gets louder and louder as they get close to the door. The door swings open and your mouth slightly parts open. This is—?

“Jaehyun!” Mark exclaims, crashing into Jaehyun’s arms.

You stand there awkwardly as you watch them embrace. Jaehyun pats Mark’s back until his eyes meet yours. Jaehyun. You’ve known of him. But now that you can put a face to his name, you’re immediately brought back to your freshman year, specifically your freshman orientation week. You’ve seen his face before. Jaehyun was amongst the popular freshmen in your year mainly due to his charisma and charm. By the end of freshman orientation week, he had become a magnet that attracted everyone to him. But not only did you remember him from orientation week, but you remember being one of the many people who were attracted to him. He had become your first university crush, but ever since orientation week, you never saw him again.

Until now.

“I’m guessing you’re Y/N?” Jaehyun asks and you find yourself snapping out of your trance. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

You slowly nod your head. “Yes, that’s me.”

“The one that was scurrying away earlier?” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes. “God, please don’t remind me. That was embarrassing.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles and oh boy, are those dimples?

You swoon. Too bad Jaehyun’s off the market. But at the same time, it’s a shame that you’re going to be the one to ruin his relationship and put him back on the market. You muster up a smile. “Nice to meet you too, Jaehyun.”

You and Mark make yourselves comfortable in Jaehyun’s apartment. Your eyes scan the place and just by the small touches to his apartment, you can pick up what kind of person Jaehyun is. From the LP turntable sitting in one corner of the room accompanied by a great stack of records—he has some exquisite taste in music—to the mini fridge filled with bottles of wine, you can tell that he’s a young man with an old soul. You turn to your right when you spot a piano and a microphone stand. It’s a makeshift studio in the opposite corner of his living room. He sings?

“I’ve heard many things about you from Johnny,” Jaehyun starts a conversation as he hands you a can of beer. “And Mark, of course.”

You open the can of beer to take your first sip, making sure to squint your eyes at Mark. “I hope they’re good things.”

He smiles. “There’s nothing to worry about. They put you up to the highest standard.”

You cough. “As they should.”

Mark scoffs. “You’re being too obnoxious right now.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking another sip of your beer. “What’s taking Johnny so long to get here? After scolding me for bailing out on every single function, here he is, pulling up later than promised.”

“Speaking of,” Jaehyun says as he stares at his phone. “His uber just pulled up. I’ll meet up with him downstairs. While I go fetch him, make yourselves comfortable.”

Jaehyun leaves you alone in silence. The moment Jaehyun shuts the door, Mark shoots you a cheeky grin. He’s wiggling his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but squint your eyes at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that—”

“You like him, don’t you?”

You scoff in disbelief. “I do not like him like that—”

“You do.” Mark cuts you off. “I’m getting that type of energy from you—”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, I don’t like him like that. Besides, he’s in a relationship with Ara—”

“He’s in a relationship that you’re destined to end.” Mark reminds you and you frown. “What? It’s true!”

You shake your head and with a stern voice, you say, “I don’t like Jaehyun. I just find him... charming.”

“That’s all—”

“And handsome—”

“Oh—”

“And sweet.” You add. “But other than that, I don’t like him. I’m Cupid, remember? I’m cursed to never fall in love and so the chances of me liking Jaehyun? Very slim.”

Mark smirks. “But you find him charming, handsome, and sweet. Isn’t that more than enough to like someone?”

“There’s a very distinct line drawn between infatuation and love, Mark.” You state with a matter of fact.

“So, you’re infatuated with Jaehyun—”

“What’s up party people, put your hands up!”

Both of your mouths clamp shut at Johnny’s freakishly loud voice echoing the apartment the moment he walks in. You dumbly put your hands up and Mark lets out a loud cackle. Entering right after him are Ara and—

“Yuta, my right hand and my go-to!” Mark exclaims.

You wish you were invisible, especially when Ara spots you on the couch and sends you a wave. You’re mustering up a very tight-lipped smile as you wave back at her. Great, this is going to be a long night. Jaehyun follows suit, throwing his arm over Ara’s shoulder and pecking her cheek. Mark sneaks a glance at you as you’re tearing your gaze away from the couple to take another sip of beer.

“Y/N actually came for once,” Johnny teases you.

Everyone gathers around the small coffee-table. Scattered on the small table are three boxes of chicken along with a can of beer for everyone. You’re sitting right across from Yuta, who hasn’t uttered a single word since he got here. But surprisingly enough, his eyes meet yours and you quickly look away. Your heart begins to race.

And your heart starts to beat much faster when Yuta never seems to break his stare at you for the rest of the night.

Yuta has definitely seen you before but he can’t seem to pinpoint exactly where he’s seen you. It must have been a fleeting moment, where the both of you passed by each other unknowingly. But after looking into your wandering eyes, after watching you chug a can of beer right across from him, he has found his answer.

Valentine’s Day.

He was biking on his way home after a three-hour lecture. Too many couples. He remembers the excessive amount of couples strolling down the busy streets. He remembers having the urge to rip his eyes out whenever he came to a stoplight and spotted a couple sharing a passionate (way too passionate) kiss. But he also remembers the sudden loneliness he felt.

Ara. He’s always found her pretty in her own special way. His first encounter with Ara was when she auditioned for the co-ed soccer team. He was seated at the bleachers as one of the head coaches who chose the new team members. She was everything he adored in someone. It was like she had her own glow whenever she ran down the field, with her hair bouncing as she ran.

But too bad because she’s—

“Taken?”

Jaehyun let out a sigh on the other phone line. Yuta pursed his lips into a tight line. “Listen, I tried to get those concert tickets for you tonight through my connections. But all of the available seats are taken. Well, there are still some seats but the seats you wanted are gone.”

“Do you have tickets for other seats?” Jaehyun questioned.

“Yeah, but the seats are pretty far from the stage. Are you alright with that?”

He heard distinct chatter on the other phone line. He heard Ara’s soft voice and a smile threatened to escape his lips. Right… she’s taken by Jaehyun. “We’ll take them!”

“Perfect.” Yuta chuckled. “I’m on my way to your apartment, actually. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes to give you the tickets.”

Yuta turned to his right and into a familiar neighbourhood. He slowed down his bike when he reached Jaehyun’s apartment building. As he headed up a couple flights of stairs, he reached Jaehyun’s apartment completely out of breath. The door opened and he saw—

“Oh, hey, Ara.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Is Jaehyun here?”

Ara beamed up at him and nodded her head. “Come in. You look like you’re out of breath. Do you want a glass of water, or something?”

“I’m good. Thanks.” He mumbled, too shy and nervous to utter anything other than those three words. Ara bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. God, why is he so nervous around her?

“Yuta!” Jaehyun said in a sing-song voice, greeting him with a fist-bump.

“Hey—oh?”

Yuta clamped his mouth shut when he looked into Jaehyun’s eyes. Jaehyun’s eyes sure do look pretty, he could see stars shining back at him. But that’s not what he saw.

He saw an unfamiliar woman. He’s never seen her before.

In Jaehyun’s eyes, he saw a woman holding what seemed like a microphone. She had headphones on and her face was illuminated by what he assumed was a laptop screen. She was singing a song he couldn’t hear. Yuta blinked, soaking in every little detail about the woman he saw in Jaehyun’s eyes. But it was not long until his face paled when he realized something terrible.

The woman he saw in Jaehyun’s eyes was not Ara.

Valentine’s Day. It’s the day he dreads the most out of the entire year. It’s the day where he receives his love assignment for the year. He has one year to make his assignment fall in love with their soulmate. But how is he going to do that when his love assignment is Jaehyun?

Cupids are cursed to never fall in love. Although, Yuta does have sheer hope that he could definitely find love. How could he not, when he’s a hopeless fool in front of Ara? It’s this specific Valentine’s Day that he dreads the most out of all the Valentine’s Days he’s spent. Why? Because while he found out that Jaehyun’s soulmate isn’t Ara, that surely doesn’t mean that he has a chance with Ara. In fact, he’ll never have a chance with Ara. He could potentially be the man Ara will hate the most.

Because one way or another, he must tear Ara and Jaehyun apart.

author’s note. welp, i hope you enjoyed the first part! i should be able to post the second part after all of my midterms. look out for it! thank you for reading!

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wellhellotragic · 2 years

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Love If It's Torture 2/?

Summary: Emma Swan’s life is a disaster; the culmination of one poor choice after another nearly causing her ruin. Dramatic? Perhaps, but then again, arriving late to work only to find her one-night-stand introducing himself to everyone at the firm calls for nothing less than a full emotional breakdown.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I'm still working on the ending so not regular updates just yet, but I didn't want to wait anymore to post up this one...

AO3

She rises with the sun, her body not quite having received the message that it’s Saturday and there’s no work. But her head has other ideas and screams for pain killers. It’s not until she’s up, moving to the medicine cabinet in her bathroom to muddle around for some aspirin that memories of the night come flooding back. It’s ever-so-slight soreness that sends flashes of blue through her mind.

She drank. And she had sex.

There are two missed calls from Mary Margaret, six missed calls from Ruby and eighteen text messages waiting for her on her phone when she comes back into her bedroom. They start off banal - get it girl - but become more panicked as she reads through. She barely has time to make it through the full string of texts before there’s another incoming call.

“Oh thank God. You answered this time. Wait, this is Emma right? You aren’t some creep who just murdered her and stole her phone, right?”

Emma cringes at the pitch in her friend’s voice willing her aspirin to kick in faster.

“Yes, it’s me. No, I wasn’t murdered. And why are you calling so early? Has Junior even had time to find all of his clothes yet?”

“I told you, his name is Billy, and he left hours ago. Emma, it’s after one. You missed lunch with your sister-in-law.”

She pulls her phone back, noting that it was in fact much later than she’d realized.

“Shit, I forgot to set an alarm.”

It’s another reminder that she’s getting older and can’t hold her liquor quite as well as she once did, and recovery requires far more sleep and hydration now.

“So I take it you didn’t stay the night with your brooding mystery man last night or I’m sure he would have given you a wake up call. Did you even get his name this time?”

“No and no.

She’s not a gossip. And while Ruby has never been shy about sharing the details of her conquests, and Emma’s never been too prudish to listen, she’s just never been into reciprocating. This part of their friendship is very one-sided, or at least it has been since Neal stomped on her heart and Ruby gave her the I-told-you-so she never asked for.

Her friend knows better than to keep prodding, but she can almost feel her pouting on the other side of the line. They only talk for a little longer, making Sunday Funday brunch plans at the new outdoor beer garden. She walks by it occasionally on her way home from the metro line to her apartment, and the idea of German food seemed less than appealing at first, but last week she saw someone diving onto a grilled cheese sandwich and she hasn’t been able to get it out of her mind since.

Her call to Mary Margaret is less casual. She loves her brother’s wife dearly, or as much as she’s capable of loving someone at this point in her busted up life, but they’re very different people. Emma’s life was never sunshine and butterflies, she was never homecoming queen or head cheerleader. She’s not anyone’s champion, and she’s certainly not pushing anyone to find their soulmate every chance she gets.

But she knows Mary is just trying her best to be a supportive friend and family member. Sometimes it’s too much though, like now, when Mary is grilling her about why she missed lunch, and what, or who, could have possibly kept her up so late that she slept until one.

She dodges the best she can, inviting her to come to brunch as an apology for missing lunch, and hangs up the phone, feeling emotionally exhausted.

The shower that follows helps more than she expected, the warm water washing away the remnants of her caked on makeup she’d been too lazy to wash off. Too bad it can’t wash away her sins too.

Emma refuses to think of Neal, or about the man who vaguely looked like him from across the street until he turned around, or to think about how she spireled last night. She also tries her best not to think about the man that had her pressed against a wall either, but when she turns the water off and goes in search of clothes, opening her underwear drawer she blushes. More than anything, she hopes whichever pair of panties she wore last night were at least sexy since he kept the damn things, although she’s not thrilled at thinking it may have been one of her more expensive pairs.

Most of the day is spent sitting on the couch with takeout food, binging shows she’s seen a million times before. It gives her head a break though, just something mind numbing that doesn’t require any thought or brain power. Her job has become stressful enough to give her occasional migraines, and as much as she’d like to continue being the workhorse she’s always been, the last year has taught her to refocus and to compartmentalize her work life from her home life, if nothing else for her own sanity.

It doesn’t help that her boss hates her and has been looking for reasons to fire her, despite her being a nearly perfect employee, and it also doesn’t help that she has a client that absolutely insists that the only time he can meet to sign contracts is at 8pm on a Saturday night. Especially when said client has been more than obvious about his intentions towards her as a woman.

So she lets herself have this time to rest and recharge. Even then, she’s just not ready for a night of rebuffing his advances and coming up with new reasons not to date him, because it’s against company policy doesn’t seem to be a good enough reason for him.

No one would have to know about it, Emma.

God does she hate him, almost as much as the fact that she’s having to get dressed up to meet with him. Heaven forbid her boss find out that she was arriving to work events in sweatpants.

So on comes her black button up linen shirt and her least flattering pair of trousers, except that as she’s putting them on, she notices a small tear in the crotch, the absolute last message she wants to be sending her grabby client. She’s nearly running late at this point and doesn’t have time to rethink her top, so she goes for the nearest thing, a black leather skirt, and heads out the door, shoes still in hand.

She could drive, but the idea of finding parking on a weekend night in Boston might be the only thing worse than having to meet Walsh at his showroom. The MBTA is a huge mistake though. It only takes seconds after finding a seat for a random man to find his way over to her, using the handrail to position himself just so that his junk is next to her face. If the train wasn’t packed, she’d roll her eyes and move, but everyone is stuffed like sardines, and she closes her eyes and listens for her stop.

He’s still there, and if she elbows his junk while standing up, so be it, and there’s a small bit of satisfaction in the way he doubles over in pain. Her joy is short lived though when she checks her phone and sees that Walsh has changed their meeting from his showroom to a restaurant down the street from his office and she wants to scream at his audacity.

But she’s a professional, so she goes. He drags the diner out, attempts to ply her with wine and gets even more brazen when she refuses. And he still doesn’t sign the damn contracts. She’s about two seconds away from grabbing the rest of the wine bottle and pouring it over his head, but resists, even after he suggests that they take the meeting back to his place. She’s had it, and no job is worth his business. She’s done her part, and if Ruby wants the accolades for landing another deal, well then Emma will just let Ruby close it instead.

He’s angry, and she’s not sure that he doesn’t purposefully make his chair scrape against the wooden floor in the restaurant louder as he stands, throwing cash on the table. There’s a small part of her that swears she hears him mumble something about her being a tease under his breath as they part, and she just can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something more sinister under his nice guy routine.

She rides the subway north, away from her apartment, and then back down again to the city center just to make sure he isn’t following her, because at this point, she wouldn’t put it past him. She’s had gut instincts about men in the past and ignored them only to endure immense humiliation and regret. She won’t do it again.

So she wanders around downtown Boston, just to be safe. Walking anywhere and nowhere, she finds herself in a small park, just at the corner of Congress and Milk St. It’s not a glorious park by any means, just a simple little plot of grass, a tiny safe haven untouched by the constant erection of buildings all around her.

There’s a bench near the far end, and her feet are killing her from the four miles she’s traipsed tonight. Allowing herself a few minutes to rest and regroup, she leans back meaning to catch a view of the stars above, but the city is too bright and the trees too dense. Instead, with her head tilted up, she closes her eyes and lets the night wash over her. Her mind is empty at first as she listens to the sounds around her. A group of teenagers out with nothing else to do yelling as they ride by on skateboards. A couple whispering to each other as they stroll through the park. A man out for a job, panting as his feet hit the pavement.

But eventually, her mind betrays her, letting flashes of her dalliance pass by. The way a certain stranger whispered in her ear, the panting coming from him as he pounded into her. Her core throbs at the memory and before she knows it, there’s a slight smile threatening to bloom across her face, in equal measure to the blush forming as she remembers that she’s still in public.

She’s not going to go to him, much to the chagrin of her hormones, but she wouldn’t deny herself the company of her purple nightstand companion, not when she can still smell the ghosting of his cologne. The thought of it leaves her a little bereft though, knowing that she won’t be able to hit the same angles, or feel the weight of a full body on top of her. But she can make do. She’s done it before quite regularly as a matter of fact.

But then she stands, giving herself a few seconds to look around and get her bearings, trying to think of where the closest subway station would be. And that’s when she sees it. In small black signage, The Langrham, and perhaps that’s all the sign she needs.

Acting on sheer impulse, she walks to the front of the building, not listening to the hundreds of reasons why this is a bad idea in her head. She literally only told herself less than five minutes ago that she wasn’t going to him, skillset be damned. But when the universe sees fit to land her twenty feet away from the chance at no strings attached mind blowing sex, she listens. She’s thought of becoming a nun before, in jest of course, but she’s paid her penance, a whole year of it. So she grants herself this. He said he was only going to be in town for the week. What harm could it really do?

The elevator is slow to open, and she’s trying everything not to make eye contact with the front desk clerk, who surely knows that she doesn’t belong here. The ride up to the seventh floor is unbearingly long as she talks herself out and back into going through with knocking on his door. But it isn’t until she has her hand raised, looking at the 704 numberage that she really starts to worry herself. It’s Boston, and he’s here on a vacation, what are the chances he’s even in his room right now? He certainly wasn’t wasting away there last night.

She’s about to turn around and run when a doorway down the hall opens. Not wanting to seem like she’s lurking, because at this point it’s only loitering, she finally summons all her courage and lightly raps on the door. She feels so stupid waiting there, not sure what outcome she’s hoping for. If he isn’t there, she can slink away and lick her pride wounds from the comfort of her own bed.

But when he opens the door in nothing but a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt, the decision is made for her. It takes him just a tic to realize what’s happening, he’s still toweling off his hair as he answers, clearly not expecting anyone, but she knows the exact second it clicks in his mind. His boyish demeanor quickly changes, and he’s doing that thing with his tongue and the corner of his mouth again.

“Tell me you aren’t married.” She wants him, but not at the expense of another woman’s heart.

And there’s something under the surface when he replies, something between a longing and repulsion when he tells her, “I’m not the commitment type, Love.”

And that’s all it takes before she’s in his arms, letting him guide her through the hotel room, clothes shedding along the way. The bedroom has a gorgeous view of the skyline, not that she’s in any mindset to notice now. That will come later when he’s nodding off and she’s sneaking away.

For now, all she can focus on is the feeling of his mouth pressed all over her body, especially when he moves down to the place she needs most. He keeps his hand pressed just below her abdomen, and she lets go, explosions rocking her to her core. But he isn't done. Not by a long shot.

The blue eyed man tells her to wait while he walks to what she can only assume is a bathroom, and she’s probably right because he returns with another red foil packet, just like he had in the club. She tries to help him with it, but his hand on her wrist stops her attempts.

“What’s your name?”

It’s a simple enough question, but she doesn’t do names, and she’s already broken enough rules for one night.

“What would be the fun in that?” She bats her lashes, hoping he’ll remember the night before, how she warned him it was just sex. And she thinks she just might be getting away with it.

“Just two ships passing in the night then?”

“Yes, but closely I hope.”

He smiles, something devious and leans over, kissing the shell of her ear whispering in a lilt that has her completely keyed up again.

“Sweetheart, trust me, before I’m done, you’re going to want to scream my name.”

And there’s something in the look he gives her as he pulls back, a promise and determination, and against her better judgment, she wants to see if he lives up to the expectation.

So she caves.

She gives him her first name along with the return of his own.

And true to his promise, he had her screaming ‘Killian’ more than once.

And true to her word, she sneaks out once he’s completely spent three full rounds later. The MBTA is no longer running at this late hour, so she spends a small fortune on an uber to get home, but the soreness she feels as she crawls into bed tells her it was worth it.

___

She remembers to set her alarm this time, and finds getting out of bed is easier when she hasn’t had her weight in booze the night before.

Brunch is underrated in her book. Of course, brunch with her sister-in-law and best friend is less so. It’s not quite that the two other women don’t get along, but they’re polar opposites. Mary Margaret is prim and proper, and Ruby is, well, Ruby. And Emma has to kick Ruby’s shin under the table more than once as they feast on brioche french toast and eggs benedict. Especially when her friend tries to lead the conversation into more mature topics just to torture Mary Margaret.

Even more so when Ruby brings up the reason Emma had to miss lunch the previous day. Her sister-in-law being ever so gullible takes the bait, hoping it means that Emma’s met a respectable man. Emma can see her already planning out double dates in her head. There’s a part of her that considers not correcting her, hoping it would be the end of the disastrous set up attempts she’s always trying, but eventually she’ll get caught.

The woman is disappointed at first, and then admonishes her when she realizes the truth of the matter, that he was a one night stand. Emma will have to remember to thank Ruby for that later.

The ladies part after a light shopping excursion, having hit a few high street stores. It isn’t until after Emma is home, unboxing the few bags she carried in, that she sees the surprise Ruby has left for her. A small little box, hidden under a bulky sweater dress. It’s from K.M. Hudsons and she’s not even sure when Ruby had the time to sneak away and buy it.

The item inside has her blushing in places she didn’t know possible. And when she returns to the Langham Hotel again that night, she swears that it makes him blush just a little bit too.

But all good things must come to an end. She knew it going in, but it didn’t make leaving him that Sunday night any easier. And it’s not that she’s attached to him. She doesn’t even know his last name for craps sake, but a part of her misses the idea of him. It’s not a realization she’s ready to face. It’s good that she has work in an hour and that he’s probably going to be back on his way home to wearever he came from by the time she makes it into the office. That is, if she can ever drag herself out of bed.

Their last night together bled into the early morning, and while it felt worth it at the time, the circles under her eyes are telling her differently in the light of day. It takes another fifteen minutes before she’s up and showering.

Life is against her.

She’s already running slightly late to her 8am office meeting, and the Dunking closest to the office has a line a mile long too. By the time she makes it up to the seventeen floor, everyone is already in one of the conference rooms, and she does her best to blend into the wall. Luck finally seems to be on her side though, and everyone seems to be talking amongst themselves instead of listening to the head of the long table like usual. She’s almost certain she’s made it unnoticed, and goes to find Ruby, but when she does, she’s stopping dead in her tracks.

Because Ruby isn’t alone.

She’s talking with the CEO and owner of the company, Liam Jones. A man that despises Emma to his very core. Although, Liam isn’t what has her halt so hard she nearly spills her freshly procedure coffee though. But it is the blue-eyed man shaking Ruby’s hand.

#captain swan ff #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #cs fanfic

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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sparklingchan · 3 years

Text

Ruby Eyes|| Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word count : 7.3k+

Warnings : Mention of an accident, cuss words, divorce, a single kiss.

Genre : Romance, Soulmate AU, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers.

Description: Seo Changbin has done everything in his capacity to remove and replace you, yet fate seems to have different plans for the both of you.

A/N : Hello everyone ahhh I know it’s been so long y’all. So many things have been going on including exams and internships and I just didn’t have the patience to write :(( This one shot was written as a part of a collab event by wonderful, dear Ro!

I hope y’all like it!

"So, how's it being back, y/n?"

Your dad looks older now than he did the last time you saw him - probably two years ago, when you were leaving the country.

You missed him, really. You missed his warmth and his wisdom and how he was a sharp contrast to your mother, more calm and composed. Sometimes you wonder how your mother had even managed to get your custody after their divorce.

"Okay, I guess." You lie.

You didn't want your father to know how your feelings are all over the place, ranging from sadness to anger and longingness.

It's a weird thing to be experiencing such a cocktail of emotions when you'd convinced yourself these feelings had disappeared the day you left the old neighborhood, seven years ago. You had not felt any attachment towards the new neighborhood that you and your mother then went on to live for the next two years before you moved abroad for your studies. Yet you feel nostalgic now, as your father drives you through your old old neighborhood.

"How's mom?" He asks, taking a left to a road all too familiar to you, "Is she still going to therapy?"

You nod, "She's getting better, I think. The new country seems to have changed her. The therapy is helping too. She has many friends there now. "

At first when you were offered a job at one of the biggest publishing companies in the world, you were ecstatic. But everything soon died down when you found out you were posted at a branch in the country you'd left behind. It was your mother who'd convinced you to take it.

"I know you don't like being back, y/n." Your dad smiles sadly when he pulls over infront of your old house.The house that contains years of secrets, tears, lies and whispered confessions in front of the mirror stands in front of you, as grand and pretty as ever. It looks different but similar enough to make you tear up a tad bit.

"But I'm glad you're here. I really am." He says, "I renovated the house a little when you told me you were moving back. I hope it's okay."

You smile at the old man, wrapping your arms around him, "Thanks, dad. I missed you. I'm glad you're here, too."

He pecks your forehead, "I missed you, too, love."

Moving in doesn't take a lot of time since your dad had already set up everything. You just had to get some of your stuff and you were ready to kick start your stay.

That evening, your father leaves after making you promise to call him if anything happens at all and when the front door closes, you find yourself in the company of your old room.

You lie on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you hum an old tune to yourself. And without meaning to, you find yourself thinking about him; The man you hadn't seen or talked to for a whole seven years. The man who'd tried his best to stay in touch with you yet gave up when you didn't reciprocate the same.

A horrific realization then dawns on you,

He'd obviously replaced you now.

The familiar clouds of grief loom over you, threatening to engulf you any moment now.

No. Not now, please.

Getting up from your bed immediately, you shake your head as you make your way to the mirror- the mirror that had encountered more honest tears and smiles and words than any human ever had. You stare at your reflection as tears escapes your eyes, the bright red iris of your right eye staring back at you when you rub your tears off.

You shiver.

"Shit, I forgot to wear the contacts."

Quickly grabbing your lenses from your bag, you put them on, concealing the scary blood red color of your right eye. You take two long strides across the room and pulling your favorite black hoodie over your head, you walk out of the door.

By the time you manage to leave the house, it's already 10:30 in the evening. A quiet calmness has fallen over the town, as the shops and restaurants near the market square slowly start closing up. Your feet are as if on autopilot, taking you to that one place you know would still be open; Yang's Café.

And rightly so, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils when you walk through their main door, past the group of chatty teenagers waiting outside. This place hasn't changed much, you realize, the brown and golden hues of the place and the vintage coffee cups collection in the far corner of the Cafe are still the same. The only difference is that you're no longer here with your best friend right after school, you are here all alone on an evening too quiet for your liking.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

When you turn around to face the owner of the voice, you are stunned.

"Jeongin?"

Jeongin's family has owned this Cafe for three generations now, from his great-grandparents, his grandparents, his parents and soon enough it'll pass down to him. As a kid, you remember often playing with Jeongin at the park and teaming up with him during quiz competition. He was always sweet and always smiley.

But the handsome young man that stands in front of you doesn't resemble the Jeongin you once used to know, not even a little bit.

"What..what happened to you!" You exclaim, taking his face in your hands, "Where are the braces! And the specs and wow, would you look at the blue hair!"

Jeongin can only let out a few giggles as you continue squishing his face and complaining how big he's grown in only over seven years.

The customers give you weird stares but only the heavens above know how genuinely happy you are to see Jeongin, albeit the fact you almost couldn't recognize him there for a second.

"What have you done to my child?" You mutter when you've finally calmed down and Jeongin takes you to your seat.

"I have a mother, y/n, thank you very much," he laughs, taking a seat opposite to yours, loosening the Barista apron around his torso, "And I missed you too."

You attempt to pinch his cheeks but he is quick to dodge.

"So how have you been?" He asks through giggly breaths.

You sigh, "I'm good... I feel weird being back here, honestly but I think I'll get used to it soon. What about you?"

"I've been good. Graduated a few months back, now I'm working here full time." He ushers over a waiter, "What would you like, y/n?"

You don't even think for a second while responding, "An iced Americano, please."

The waiter notes your order and walks away before Jeongin pinches your arm teasingly.

"Ouch. What?"

"Old habits die hard, huh? You always used to drink an iced coffee whenever we hung out here. I am glad to see nothing much has changed," Jeongin laughs, "You and Changbin, too!"

That one name sends your entire mind into a frenzy. Changbin. Seo Changbin. The love of your life. The man who you wouldn't even go to school without, the man who had saved you from a terrible accident, also the man who probably no longer even remembers you.

And you realise, despite everything, your heart yearns for him, still- for you wouldn't be in so much pain at the mention of his name otherwise.

Jeongin seems to have noticed your discomfort because he immediately changes the topic, "Anyway, you have to try our new chocolate cake. It's heavenly, I'm telling you."

Your reason to leave the neighborhood wasn't a secret, really. It was public knowledge that your mother had blamed Changbin for the fatal accident you almost had.

You're grateful for what Jeongin does, and try your best to engage in conversations about the neighborhood and old gossip you'd missed out on. Yet all you want to do is drive out of the damn Cafe and find changbin.

"Y/n?"

Or maybe, Changbin will find you.

Behind Jeongin, you see the blurry image of a man that had once caused you great misery yet you had never felt as happy as when you were with him.

"Hi..hi, Changbin." You stammer as you see the said man walk towards your table.

The seven years have as if done some magic on him, because the Changbin that walks towards you in no way resembles your high school best friend.

With thick buff arms, new ear piercings and silver jewelry gracing his wrists and fingers, you have a hard time actually accepting the fact that Seo Changbin is really there, in front of you.

"Been long, huh?" He grins, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and somewhere in the depths of your conscience, you realize it might have been your fault. You'd done everything in your capacity to break apart from this friendship, ignoring his calls, changing your number, even going as far as blocking him on all social media.

So, did you really expect him to welcome you back with open arms when you had caused him so much pain?

Jeongin brings an extra chair for Changbin to sit on and soon, the three of you are talking, maybe not like the old, happy days but it's still better than nothing. Changbin looks at you everytime you throw your head back and laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as his heart clenches in his chest.

You are really back home.

"So what have you been doing? I told you guys about me." Jeongin says, stealing a bite off of Changbin's cheesecake.

"Oh..you know," Changbin giggles, the tip of his ears turning a light pink shade.

You raise your eye brows in confusion.

"Been busy with the wedding and all."

Your heart drops. "Wedding? W-whose wedding?" You try to laugh it off but it's very evident from the way you're gripping your glass of iced Americano that it has affected you. A lot more than you actually thought.

"I'm getting married, y/n," Changbin smiles, "I'm so glad you could be around for the wedding."

Your grief stricken self has not gotten up from the bed since last night and you're thankful to Jeongin for finally checking up on you or else you would have gone deeper into the spiral hole of despair.

"Are you really going to be like this, y/n?"

You hate being miserable on the very second day of your stay. You hate depending on Jeongin. But you can barely move without bursting out into tears,so it seems as though there's no better idea than have someone take care of you at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jeongin. " You manage to speak when he places a bag full of snacks and drinks on the dining table, "And thanks."

Jeongin chuckles, "Don't thank me, just yet. Guess who wants to meet up with you?"

Your eyes widen for a split second as you sit up on the couch, "Who?!"

No, he wouldn't, would he?

"It's not the person you think, y/n. Calm down." He laughs, "It's Bang Chan. Your senior, you remember?"

Oh, yes, the infamous Bang Chan. Shy smiles, dimples, curly hair, angelic eyes. Yeah, you remember the school's heartthrob. Very clearly.

"I was talking to him this morning and he said he'd be very glad to catch up with you again." Jeongin settles beside you, "It's not a date, y/n. He's an old friend. It wouldn't hurt, would it? You can't possibly sit here all day long crying about him."

You open your mouth to argue, but only air slips out and you realise you don't have anything to defend your miserable state with. You knew this was coming; when you cut off all ties with Seo Changbin, you knew this was coming.

Jeongin is right; you need to go out and meet new people.

You roll your eyes before pinching Jeongin's cheeks, "Fine. Give him my number."

He responds by pulling your cheeks as well.

The first day of work is weirdly gut wrenching.

You hadn't expected yourself to be this nervous but here you are, muttering under your breath as you make way towards the office.

"You'll be okay, y/n," you breathe in, "You've worked hard for this." And breathe out.

A few more minutes of self pep talking and you see all your hard work and expectations go down the drain as you feel a few droplets of rain fall onto your head. You look up and the dark, heavy clouds greet you.

Bloody brilliant.

You see the office goers around you jog quickly to the nearest shelter but you're short on luck today as your gaze falls on your watch and you realize you don't have enough time to wait for the rain to pass.

So you grab your office bag, cover your head with that and make a run for it.

The sole of your high heel shoes dig into your feet and a throbbing pain shoots through your body, as you wince. Note to yourself - never wear heels to office again.

You also secretly pray to the gods that your contact lens don't get washed off. Turning up at your new office on the first day with a blood red iris doesn't feel too fun, really.

"Do you need a lift?"

You had been so busy running to your office that you don't notice when a black car drives toward you and the driver rolls down the window, offering you a smile.

Seo Changbin.

Your heart skips a few beats.

"Y/n, do you need a lift?"

You blink back to reality when he clicks his fingers in front of you, "I-I mean if that's okay with you."

Changbin smiles, pointing to the passenger's seat, "Come on in."

When you're comfortably seated in his car, using his spare towel to wipe off the water from your face and hair, his questions start-

"So.." He steps on the break when the traffic light turns red, "How have you been?"

You look at the digital clock displayed on the cars' LED, and sigh. You're late to work and you're stuck in traffic with the one man you'd rather not be stuck in traffic with. Brilliant.

"Good." Your eyes are focused on the cars outside the window, "You?"

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again, "Fine."

Fine? Just Fine? Shouldn't he be over the clouds, now that the wedding is finally around the corner?

"Okay.."

"Actually, I meant to ask you earlier, y/n." He turns to you, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "I am throwing a party this weekend. I'd love it if you could come by. And I could introduce you to her."

You sink back into your seat, biting your lip, wondering if you want to ever know who her is. Your peace of mind is more important than meeting your ex crush's fiance, right? And if you do end up going to the party, whom would you hang out with? It's not like you know any of his rich friends and cousins and there's no way you'd hang out with Changbin and the said fiance.

You are about to respectfully reject the invitation when a sudden, seemingly good idea pops into your head.

Bang Chan.

You nod, shrugging, "Okay. I'll be there."

You clasp your hands together as he continues driving and you look out the window, unable to suppress the bubbling excitement.

"Great, then." He replies, suspiciously.

The evening of the party finally arrives, much to your dismay, you find yourself seated next to Chan. He's just the same as the guy in your memory; a gentleman.

"You look pretty, y/n." He had greeted you as he held the car door open for you, "I'm glad we could meet up."

His words turn your cheeks into a darker shade of red but your heart doesn't beat quite as furiously as you'd expect it to.

Muttering a small thank you, you seat comfortably in the car while Chan drives towards Changbin's family's old Farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. You've been there before - during summer holidays, he would take you there with his family. That place was only filled with happy memories of sunshine, swimming pools, watermelon juice and bonfires.

You swallow the grief that comes along with these memories.

"Are we here already?" Chan pulls over in a familiar driveway not even ten minutes later, jogging up to your door and clicking it open, like the gentleman he is.

"Yeah, we're here." Chan smiles, "Very less traffic tonight."

You guys walk through the huge metallic gate, making your way through the main door of the house.

"Uh..." People are crowded mostly around the front door and in the front yard, so you and Chan have to push and squeeze your way into the Farmhouse. You hate the feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against you (or holding Chan's hand for stability) but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"I hate it here." You mutter when you later find yourself by the pool side, swirling the drink that you don't even plan on drinking and looking at all the flushed faces having the time of their lives.

Thankfully, Chan happens to be on the same boat as you.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, Chan. We could have just gone for a movie."

Chan giggles, "Hey, it's alright. I don't mind, I'm glad I could spend some time with you after so many years."

His eyes shine and dimples deepen.

You whisper, "Yeah, me too."

Chan is a handsome man, good at all kinds of sport, good at arts, very smart and intelligent yet there's a part of you that knows you'd never be able to reciprocate his flirtatious words. It's sad, really, but that's just how life is.

"Wow, those two seem to be having the time of their lives." Chan chuckles, pointing at someone behind you.

It's quite dark outside, the only source of light being a few decorative fairylights hung at random places haphazardly.

Hiding behind a huge, tall bush, you see a couple, kissing each other like it were the last day on the planet.

The guy's hands roam all over the woman's body and the woman is so loud that even you could hear her sighs and moans. When she pulls away to catch her breath for a second, Chan asks you, "You know her?"

"Nope. I don't know either of them."

You look away; what kind of creep looks at a happy couple like that? (Not a creep, just a lonely and touch starved person)

"Should we check out the dinner table?" Chan suggests and you agree with a nod, "I hope there's no crowd there."

As expected, there actually isn't a crowd there - there's only Changbin, sitting and nibbling on a pizza slice while scrolling through the phone.

The moment your eyes land on him, your feet as if stop on their own and your heart bangs furiously against your chest.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous.

By the time you debate in your head whether or not you want to sit there and fill your stomach, Chan has already made his way to Changbin.

"Hey, Bin!" He greets him with a smile.

Changbin looks at Chan with an unamused smile, the same one from your high school days, when these two were named the biggest rivals on campus. You wonder if somewhere deep in his heart, Changbin had still not let go of that rivalry.

"Hey, Changbin." You manage to whisper before sitting beside Chan.

He looks almost angry.

"You should have the pizza. It's good." He mutters, turning to pass you a slice of pizza on a plate, "Help yourself, Chan."

Yup, there it is. The Seo Changbin that would kill to be on top. You feel worse about dragging Chan here now when neither of you were having a good time.

"Thanks, mate. " Chan replies.

Your ears ring with the sound of approaching footsteps, and when a pretty girl comes walking in and takes Changbin in her arms, your heart stings. Like a fresh wound.

"Y/n.." Chan whispers to you as you watch the two collide in a loving embrace, Changbin smiling at her and running his fingers through her hair.

Your heart hurts at how happy and content he looks.

You could have had that, a part of you thinks, if you weren't such a coward, it would have been you instead of her.

"Y/n," Chan calls you again.

"What?" Your tone is harsher than you intended, "What happened?"

You think Chan is about to give you the whole it-is-time-to-move-on talk but he doesn't, instead he points at the girl and whispers,

"It's her. The girl we saw earlier."

The rest of the night is blurry to you, all conversations, all gazes, all thoughts just feel ....like an awkward dream.

"We have to tell Changbin."

You're sitting at Yang's Cafe at 1 am the same night, watching Jeongin's brother guide his staff to clean the place up.

"I agree." Chan says, biting the inside of his cheeks.

While you, on the other hand, are completely zoned out, staring at the glass of water placed in front of you and watching the droplets on its surface race each other.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Jeongin asks when you don't take part in their discussions.

You sigh, "I don't know. I really don't. As much as it troubles me that Changbin is being cheated on, I don't want to get involved in their personal relationship. "

"Let's not tell anyone for now, then. But someday in the future, before that goddamn wedding, we have to tell him. He deserves to know." Chan agrees.

You purse your lips and close your eyes.

Chan is right.

Changbin deserves to know the truth.

"So, how's it being back in town, y/n?"

"It feels good. Weird, but good." You smile at your old teacher, "How have you been, Miss Oh?"

Your teacher adds sugar to the cup of tea in her hands and then looks at you, smiling - the same old smile, except with more wrinkles now, "I've been good. I'm retiring next year so I'm glad I could see you before that, huh?"

You nod your head, "I'm glad too. The school hasn't changed much, unlike what I had expected."

Other than the addition of some new labs and libraries, and the change in color of the walls, everything was still the same. No place in this old school building feels foreign to you.

"Ugh, these administration people I tell you, y/n, they're cheap idiots. They won't spend a single penny on infrastructure unless it's absolutely necessary." She complains as you giggle in response,

"They've always been like that."

Miss Oh gulps some tea from her cup, "Anyway, y/n, I have a class now. I would have loved to stay and chat, really, but I'm afraid that might get me in to trouble."

"No issues, Miss Oh. Go ahead. I'll just roam around the school a little more though, if that's okay."

After Miss Oh leaves, you step out of her cabin and walk the familiar corridors, reminiscent of the memories you have here. Studying a few minutes before tests, bunking classes, running to class when you're late, hanging out with your friends- these corridors have seen you grow in love, in friendship, in life. There's absolutely nothing that could ever replace these memories.

Mindlessly, you wander around the third floor, walking toward the end of the corridor before stopping in front of an old door, way too familiar to not try and push open.

While a part of you tells you it might not be a good idea to go into that room again, there's also a part of you that thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea.

Pushing the door open, you walk into the old dusty room, sighing in relief when you see a particular set of letters still carved on the wall.

CB and YN were here.

You finally let your tears run free, as you crouch down to touch the letters.

Your heart aches at how much you miss Changbin being an important part of your life and how much you miss being his top priority. And your heart aches for Changbin, who is so in love with his fiancé and has no idea he's being cheated on.

You almost want to leave this town and go back to your mother, away from this terrible mess. Yet you don't find it in yourself to act on those thoughts.

Maybe, it is your fear of abandoning him once again that stops you. Or, maybe it is simply the unconditional love you harbor for him.

* Surprisingly, Yang's Cafe is near empty that afternoon.

"Did something happen, y/n? You look really worried." Changbin has his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a tense frown.

"Um..it's kind of complicated." You sigh. For a second, you see the genuine concern and innocence on his face, and you wonder if it is worth telling him the truth at all because it would kill you to see him lose his smile but then, his engagement band shines on his ring finger and your stomach turns unpleasantly.

He has to know. From you. In person.

"Changbin, that day at your party...I saw something. " You whisper, "Something I shouldn't have. I should have turned a blind eye really but I can't. My conscience won't allow it. I'm sorry, Bin."

"Y/n, it's okay, just tell me," he reaches over and wraps his fingers around yours, soft and gentle, "You're scaring me."

"Changbin, your fiance is cheating on you. I-I saw her kissing another man that night. Chan saw it too." You feel sick even having to say this to him, "I think you should confront her."

He sucks in a deep breathe, his face completely void of any emotions as he extracts his hands from yours.

"I know." Is all he says.

His eyes drill into yours, as if accusing you of a crime. He looks angry. Just how he looked the day you brought Chan to his party.

"Why are you still marrying her then?" You question.

He sits up straight, "Y/n, I wish I could explain. But I can't. I'm sorry. And please, stay out of this, okay?"

"Why? Why should I stay out of it?" Your voice threatens to break, "I cannot watch my best friend marry a woman who's not loyal. You deserve better than this, Bin."

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Changbin's lips as he taps his foot against the floor, "Let me correct you, y/n. You were my best friend. Seven years ago. You're not anymore."

Your heart shatters.

A part of you knows you deserve this after ghosting him for seven long years. You were the center of each other's world at one point of time.How could you have been so selfish to ever think that your absence and lack of communication wouldn't hurt him?

"Changbin, I'm sorry for everything I did okay. B-but I never stopped thinking or worrying about you. Even for one second. And I still do."

Changbin pushes his chair back and stands up while you stay frozen in your seat.

"It doesn't seem like that though. "

"What do you even mean!"

"Chan. I mean Chan, y/n." He grabs his phone and purse, "Goodbye, y/n. I hope Chan turns out to be a better friend than I ever did." With that, the love of your life walks out of Yang's Cafe.

And for once, he doesn't even look back.

* "Y/n, don't let go of my hand!"

Changbin is panting heavily, his voice shaking with fear as he desperately tries to hold onto you.

He should have known it would be a bad idea to play badminton near the infamous cliff in your town yet when you had showed him your innocent smile and pleading eyes that day, he just couldn't say no.

Your sweaty hands clutch his, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Your free hand grabs the rough surface of the rocky cliff to keep yourself from falling.

You want to cry; but you're too traumatized to even let out more than a few terrified grunts. "Y/n," he yells, "I'm going to try and pull you up one more time, okay?."

You don't even remember how you had ended up in this situation; one second you were happily giggling, playing badminton with Changbin and in the next second, you found yourself hanging by the cliff, praying for your dear life.

With all the energy he has left, he tries to pull you up onto the surface.

"Y/n, you have to free the other hand. Let go of that rock." He pants.

You shake your head vigorously, you know you would not survive if you let go of the rock, you'd fall thousands of feet below into absolute nothingness.

"Y/n, please listen to me." Changbin pleads, now crying, "Please. I'll catch you, I promise. I'll not let you die. Just..please."

Changbin sounds like he's about to give up and in all honesty, you couldn't blame him really. Everytime your eyes fall on what's beneath you, a part of you loses hope.

"Please, come on, y/n," he's still pulling at your free hand, while his right hand awaits desperately to grab the other hand. A mixture or sweat and tears grace his face, making him shine under the bright afternoon sun. Your heart aches at the mere thought of never seeing him again- your friend, your childhood crush, your partner in everything.

Well, here goes nothing then.

You suck in a deep breath and let go the Rock, immediately reaching for Changbin. He is quick to grab both of your arms and in one swift movement, he pulls you up onto the surface.

You fall onto his chest, "Y-you saved me."

Changbin let's out a sob mixed with a relieved giggle, pulling you into his arms.

Your eyes feel heavy, as darkness slowly begins to engulf your vision.

"Oh God, I am so sorry this happened, y/n. It's all my fault." He cries, rubbing your back softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought I was going to lose you, oh God. Fuck!"

You want to tell him that it was never his fault, and that you wouldn't even be alive if not for him but your body betrays you and your body goes limp against his.

"I'm not leaving this neighborhood."

Your hands rest angrily on your waist as your mom frantically walks from your closet to where the suitcase is spread open on your bed, shifting all your clothes. She dumps them inside the suitcase, not bothering to fold them even.

"You will do as I say! That Seo Changbin tried to push you off of a cliff and heaven knows what he might do next!" Your mom yells back.

You sit at the edge of your bed, trying to keep yourself calm, "Mom, I told you it was an accident. I fell because I was going after the shuttlecock and didn't notice the cliff. Moreover, why would my best friend want try to kill me!"

Your mom let's out a sarcastic laugh, closing the suitcase roughly. She looks at you with eyes full of contempt and a part of you knows that there's no point in trying to convince her. Her mind is already made. Yet you refuse to go down without a fight.

"You're just sixteen, sweetie. You don't know anything about the cruel world, " your mother sighs, "Rich people are not friends with anyone. Changbin may be nice to you but he only sees you as a pathetic poor girl."

"Mom, we're not even poor!"

"Yes, I know. But those filthy rich businessmen consider everyone below their economic status poor. His family probably doesn't like him being friends with you which is why they asked him to get rid of you."

You think of Mrs. Seo's face in your head, always smiling and always welcoming. You remember Changbin's sister and how she'd promised to let you borrow her dress for this year's winter prom. And you think about Changbin- his face, his smile, his passion for music and his protectiveness towards you. Why would these people ever want to hurt you?

"Mom, you're being ridiculous right now! Do you even hear yourself!" You stand up from the bed, now beyond frustrated.

She walks upto you and grabs your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin as you whimper slightly. "You will listen to me. I am your mother and you will listen to me. " she growls, "Pack the rest of your stuff. We're leaving tomorrow."

When she finally walks out your bedroom, your first instinct is to dress yourself in your black hoodie and track pants, and quietly slip out of the back window of your room.

The cold air nips at your skin, goosebumps slowly appearing on your arms and legs but you're too preoccupied to pay too much heed to it.

You reach Changbin's house and like always, walk up to the backyard and climb upto his room through the emergency staircase.

When Changbin hears knocks on his window, he quickly removes his headphones, "y/n?"

He walks upto the window and let's you in, his heart more at peace now than it's ever been the entire day. The guilt from the accident you had earlier was clawing at his conscience.

His room is mostly dark except for his table lamp. You notice the lyrics notebook lying on the table, open with some scribbles and random phrases on the pages.

"How are you feeling?"

You sit at the edge of his bed, cross legged while he kneels on the floor to get to your level. His hands find yours naturally.

"Fine," you swallow the tears that have been accumulating since you left the house, "Changbin, I- we're leaving tomorrow."

Changbin is taken aback; his heart shattering into billions of pieces at your words.

"Leaving? What do you mean Leaving?" his voice trembles.

You lick your dry lips and tell him everything your mom had told you earlier. When his face twists bitterly, a part of you wishes you'd held your tongue yet a bigger part of you wants Changbin to know the truth now; you didn't want him sending you off with lies in his mind and the fear of him finding out some years later just killed you inside.

"I'm so sorry, Changbin. Mom's just not been okay after the divorce." Your voice breaks when Changbin refuses to look at you, "I know she's speaking bullshit. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her mind, I've tried I swear. I'm sorry, Changbin."

When Changbin finally does look at you, even in the dim lit room, you see the tears glistening on his face, mirroring the ones that roll down your cheeks. "Why are you sorry, y/n? I don't blame your mom." He mutters, "It was partly my fault. I should have taken more care, I-"

You cup his cheek, "Shh. Bin, are we really going to spend my last night here crying and blaming ourselves? We might never see each other again."

The words sink deep into his soul, and he nods. He wills his tears back in as he grabs your hand tighter.

"Okay. What do you wanna do?"

You smile a little, "You're not gonna like it though. "

"Stargazing it is then." He giggles a little as the both of you make your way to balcony attached to his room.

It is quiet outside, unlike the noise in your head and you feel the calmness spreading to you when you look up at the stars.

Changbin brings a picnic mat from inside and spreads it out on the floor, along with two pillows and a blanket.

"We'll stay in touch, yeah? If you ever need anything, I'll be right here." He reassures you, lying beside you, hands behind his head.

You smile yet you cannot bring yourself to promise him the same because you know your mother would do everything in her power to push the two of you apart, even to the point of physically hurting Changbin. You would never want that so you'd rather distance yourself and let Changbin forget about you. And maybe, just maybe fate would be a little nicer to you and decide to bring you into his life again. Many years later.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, "You'll always be my best friend, y/n. I don't care how far we are."

It takes everything in your being to not repeat the words.

"Changbin, come on we're getting you to the hospital this instant, okay?" Mrs. Seo is furious next morning, running from room to room, looking through the list of doctors she'd saved just in case of emergency.

When she looks at her son, sitting on the sofa with one of his eye irises turning a glowing red, she is reassured that this is an emergency.

"How did this even happen, mom? I swear I didn't try to do anything funny with my eye." He murmurs, scared, "It feels so itchy, gosh!"

Mrs.Seo looks at him with concern just when the doctor picks the call, "Oh, hello Dr.Lee! Thank god you picked up!"

After his mom walks out of his room, Changbin quickly types you a text,

Binnie: Hey. Did you leave already?

Y/nnie: No not yet. We've stopped at the doctor's.

Changbin's eyes widen in alarm.

Binnie: What why?

You look at your face in the decorative mirror at the doctor's waiting room, one of your irises burning into a bright shade of ruby.

Y/nnie: Mom's running a cold.

You close the messenger app before he even replies, deciding to change your number and deleting all your old contacts as soon as you move into your new house. And as much as it hurt you, this one text turned out to be the last time Changbin and you ever talked.

It has been raining all day, which means you were stuck in your goddamn house with nothing to do but cry about Changbin and your lost friendship and your broken heart.

After you manage to get some food into your body during dinner time, you crawl back to your room and look into the mirror as you comb your hair and moisturize your skin.

(Self care is important, y'all)

Your red iris stares back at you, taunting your mistakes and calling you a coward.

If only you had still tried to keep in touch with him, if only that stupid accident wouldn't have happened in the first place, if only.

Suddenly, a knock on your balcony door makes you jump in your place.

Shit. Is it a burglar?

You grab the closest thing that could be classified as a weapon - which happens to be an umbrella.

The knocking continues.

"Y/n, it's Changbin." He yells, "Can I please talk to you?"

You freeze in your spot.

Why in the world is he here? Does he have anything worse to say? Is he here to invite you to his wedding? But why would he sneak in through the balcony when he can easily ring the main door bell.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

You quickly walk upto the door and slide it open, revealing Changbin, completely drenched in the rain. His wet hair stuck to his face and "Shit. What the- God, come inside!"

He obeys and tiptoes inside your room, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

You guide him directly to the bathroom and offer him a towel.

"What are you even doing here, Bin?" You lean against the door frame, hands crossed over your chest.

He is drying his hair with the towel when he looks up at you as if to answer your question but he stops. His mouth hangs open as his eyes remain glued to your face.

And that's when you realize why he looks so surprised.

"Shit- fuck." You turn around immediately, "my lenses," you mutter to yourself.

But before you can even walk upto your dressing table, Changbin has caught your wrist and spun you around, pulling you closer to his body.

"Your eye." He let's out a shaky breath.

"Yes, I know. Please don't freak out. It's always been like this after -"

"After the accident." He finishes your sentence, "I know."

Your mouth runs dry as his face draws in closer, "What do you mean you know? What do you know?"

He let's go of your wrist and takes a step back, turning around so that his back faces you.

And when he turns to look at you again, you swear you could have passed out there and then.

"Y-you have it too." You whisper, weak in the knees, "You have a red iris too."

Changbin gives you a small smile, "Yes, y/n."

"But why? What does this mean?" You say, "Is it a symptom of some chronic illness?"

"It's a soul mark."

"What's a soul mark?"

"It's a mark that exists on the bodies of soulmates."

You feel a pang in your chest; like someone was squeezing your heart out of your chest.

"Right," You fall back onto the bed, dazed with the sudden piece of information, "And how do you know all this?"

Changbin kneels down in front of you, hands finding yours. He looks more relaxed than he did since the first day you come back to town.

It almost feels like you had been given back your old friend.

"I've been doing my research, y/n. After you left, this is all I've been doing." He says, "This is also the reason why I had gotten engaged. By that time, I had given up on finding a soulmate. So I just settled for whatever I got. I didn't even feel bad when I found out my fiance was not in love with me. For the world, we might look like a happy couple, but truly, it was just a marriage of convenience for our parents' business."

You bite your lips wondering how to respond to these words. He'd laid bare his heart in front of you, something you never thought he'd do ever again.

"What now?" You say, tired.

He intertwines your fingers, "Also, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have said all that."

You nod, "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. And for the record, I and Chan have nothing going on."

"And for the record, I also broke off my engagement."

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves your lips, "What? Why?"

"Because when I told my parents that I do not love my fiancé, and that I have only ever loved you, they said my happiness was more important than their business."

When you don't reply to his words, he looks worried, "Hey, you don't have to feel burdened to like me back and all okay? Literally, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I understand-"

You pull him by the nape and place the softest, gentlest, most sincere kiss on his lips.

"I feel the same way, dumbass." You sigh as you pull him into your arms.

He muzzles his face in the crook of your neck, playing with your hair from behind, "So what now?"

"Let's start with a date." You say, "Let's take it slow."

Changbin wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek, "As you wish, my love. "

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