#whats more romantic then being fated to fall in love across every universe but destined to lose each other in the end?

[someawkwardnerd]

happy valentines day to paulkins <3

[ahtsumu]

again and again and again ; ushijima wakatoshi

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

synopsis: every august 13th, a void opens in your chest. the universe is one sick bastard.

tag(s): soulmate!au, very angsty, equally fluffy, reincarnation!au, prince!ushijima, rebel!ushijima. android!ushijima, dad!ushijima, pro-volleyball player!ushijima ; warning(s): lots of death n dying, suggestive themes, light profanity ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday ushi!!! inspired by cloud atlas and the raven cycle but you don’t have to have seen either to understand this fic. tbh it’s just a bunch of different au’s tied together by the strings of fate lol. a thousand thank you’s to @dorkyama​ for beta-ing!

TOKYO, JAPAN, 2020

It’s another August 13th and Ushijima Wakatoshi might die today.

Glumly, you push away the plate of breakfast in front of you, cross your arms over the new space, and rest your forehead down as if in front of a grave.

“Please,” you beg with eyes shut. “Let Ushijima Wakatoshi live today.”

(You’ve whispered this phrase infinite times–– so often that it has a home in your mouth like a cavity.)

SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON, 2012

When you first meet Ushijima–– the first first time–– it’s evening and you’re lost in a meadow somewhere in Washington. Where exactly doesn’t quite matter and, even if it did, you wouldn’t be able to remember. At least, not at this moment. Because you see something most peculiar.

Under the half-lit sky, in the glade of overgrown sweet vernal grass and marigolds and daisies, a figure stands paler than the moon overhead.

The body belongs to a young man dressed in a sweater and slacks. His dark hair parts on the side, stopping right above a pair of firm dark eyes. Thin lips press in a perfunctory line, sharp nose radiates an aura of authority.

And yet, he looks lost.

“Hello?” you call out. The boy doesn’t respond, only continues to hover in the middle of the clearing with the same confounded expression on his face. So you ignore the pounding of your heart in your chest and inch closer until you’re just feet away, shivering. It’s a strangely cold day for July, you think.

“Can you tell me your name?” you ask. Seconds pass in silence as he stares past–– no, through–– you. With your thudding heartbeat and shallow breaths still the only sounds in the meadow, you realise that you may have to try something else.

Gently, you touch the pads of your fingers to his shoulder. A fresh wave of ice floods through your veins, raising goosebumps all over your skin. More curiously, though, your fingers fall through said shoulders. It feels like plunging your hand into a bucket of ice.

Eyes wide, you lunge backwards. A ghost?

No, ghosts aren’t real.

(If that’s the case, then what is he?)

At your touch, the boy’s head jerks up. Life floods his gaze. Blinking, he says, “Ushijima.” His voice is low and smooth, but quiet. Firm. He looks around the meadow as if seeing it for the first time.

“Is that all?”

Ushijima’s focus returns to you, this time with the addition of furrowed brows. His eyes are fixed on you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s reading your soul.

“That’s all there is.”

A million questions race through your mind and before you can decide which to ask first, his incorporeal figure vanishes from the meadow.

And you’re alone again.

Oddly enough, the way back to your aunt’s house comes naturally to you. Once inside the ancient wooden manor, you realise that the feeling that guided you back was the same that had led you to the meadow in the first place.

Then, you wonder, had you truly been lost?

Aunt Risa’s an eccentric woman in her thirties, always yabbering on about Mercury in retrograde and events that are yet to happen. Grandma had been the same. Clairvoyance, or what everyone claims is “clairvoyance”, supposedly runs in your family. You wouldn’t know, though, because apparently it skipped your mother. Coincidentally (or not), she’s extremely proud of her normality. And she’s also extremely proud that you, supposedly, are normal, too.

It’s safe to say that you don’t see your mother’s family often.

Still, she sent you here from New York to “connect with your roots”. And even though you know that’s a cover for “raise hell somewhere else for one summer”, you let yourself consider that it means getting acquainted with the mystic mumbo-jumbo you’ve ignored all these years. After all, nothing normal can explain what just happened in the field… right?

Good thing Aunt Risa isn’t normal.

“That’s Glendower’s Meadow you were just in,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes. “Lies atop a very powerful ley line.”

Ley lines, you learn, connect places around the world through electromagnetic forces. They are also able to transcend time, gravity, space… all forces that cannot be seen.

Aunt Risa adds that they do more than just connect places. “Soulmates countries apart can step on any point in the same line to see each other. It’s been said that the power ley lines emit is so strong that even soulmates worlds and years apart can meet in these little pockets of energy. Guess it tides you over til you’re destined to meet.”

Somehow, everything she says makes sense and doesn’t at the same time. Soulmates? Magic? None of this is real, is it?

“Now,” she continues, “it’s odd that you can use ley lines, though. Remember how you couldn’t tell a black jackal from a swan the last time you read tea leaves?”

You frown. At seven years old, you hadn’t exactly been trying.

“I guess there is something supernatural about you! You can’t deny how magical it is to have a love that transcends lifetimes…”

You don’t hear the rest of what she has to say. “Lifetimes?”

“Yup. Soulmates are the only people in this universe who go through reincarnation. The Universe is a hopeless romantic, letting her children fall in love again and again and again.”

And this explanation satisfies you because you’re sixteen, a little naive, and the Universe has never failed you before.

(She will.)

July passes in a honeyed haze: you spend every day with a content curve to your lips, thinking about a boy with eyes and hair dark as night.

Aunt Risa doesn’t have the heart to tell you that she’s seen his future in this life. And when you step out the creaky wooden door for the last time, ready to go back to the bustling jungle that is New York, she calls out to you with an expression you don’t yet recognise. “Don’t you worry, hun. You’ll see that Ushijima boy again.”

But not like this.

You’re about to get out of bed and dress for the first day of school when an out-of-control eighteen-wheeler runs his driver’s black SUV off the road. Ushijima Wakatoshi dies on August 13th in his timezone.

As it happens, you feel a strange sense of loss settle in. It’s like you’d been driving on the highway and just missed the last turn home.

(You’ll learn in the next life that you, in fact, do not have the gift of foresight. But you do have the curse of memory.)

PARIS, FRANCE, 1749

The year is 1749 and sunlight pours through the windows of Ushijima Wakatoshi’s second-floor bedroom.

In this life–– your second life–– you are a brilliant composer. The Universe, as you’ve guessed, follows no rules, no directions. Doesn’t even spare a glance at a linear timeline. Or perhaps, it’s time that isn’t linear. Either way, you try not to think about things out of your control. Life is good now.

At the sound of your fingers waltzing across ivory and ebony, Ushijima slowly sits up in the king-sized, soft linen sheets falling to reveal his chiselled torso.

“Good morning,” he rasps, a content smile tugging at his lips. “You look enchanting as always.”

The melody stops. Between the lid and music rack, your eyes meet–– his gentle, yours mirthful. “You flatter me,” you deny with a cheeky grin. Still, you rise (wearing his robes, Ushijima notes) from your seat and stroll over to your lover, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. “Happy birthday, darling.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. “I live another year just for you.” Ushijima really means that–– in fact, he believes with his whole heart that he was made for you and you him. There’s no other way to explain how your bodies mould so perfectly together, how you understand each other without even speaking, how time feels like it doesn’t exist whenever you’re around. Your meeting at Duke La Trémoille’s ball could only have been the work of Fate’s nimble fingers.

(It was. A ley line runs underneath the Duke’s family château.)

You hum, thankful that this time you have the privilege to love him as he lives. Your last life was spent agonising over the only memory you had of him. “And what does this day have in store for the man of the hour?” The words that leave your lips morph into bubbling laughter as he moves aside on the bed and pulls you into his embrace. Still giggling, you kiss his bare chest, relishing in how secure his arms feel around your waist.

“Mother is hosting a ball tonight in my honour,” he says. That you are not invited to, he doesn’t add. He doesn’t have to, though, because you know that she doesn’t approve of you. Not being French is the main reason why, but there’s also the fact that you’re a musician. A talented, accomplished, royally recognised musician, sure, but that doesn’t change how at the end of the day, all you have to your name is inked paper.

And Ushijima Wakatoshi is first in line for the throne of France.

“Ah.”

It’s hardly fair for you to feel slighted–– you knew what you were getting into the second the Crown Prince, notorious for his aloof nature, invited you to Versailles to perform for him and his friends.

(In his defense, Duke Tendou had forced his hand by threatening to throw a fit in front of the Queen, but only after he’d seen the painfully restrained wonder in the prince’s eyes.)

Still, you yearn for something more.

Ushijima feels your body stiffen in his arms and knows the moment has soured. “You can never be Queen of France,” he murmurs into your neck. Shivers crawl down your spine the same time tears prick at your eyes. “And I can never give you a throne.” It’s not the throne you yearn for.

“I know.” You curse whoever the lucky girl will be. And you curse Ushijima for reminding you that she will definitely not be you.

“I can only promise you my heart.” He presses his lips to the side of your neck. “My undying devotion.” A kiss to your exposed shoulder. “And my soul in every life we meet.” His hand slides under your chin and turns your head towards his. Soft lips move against yours while the pads of his fingers wipe away the tears that had spilled over your cheeks.

“Toshi, I must say that the literature tutor your mother hired is doing a marvellous job,” you murmur once you pull apart.

A short breath of amusement leaves his nose. “He’s only polishing a gem that already exists,” Ushijima counters.

You smile slyly, another witty remark ready to launch from your mouth, when three sharp knocks at the door cause both of you to freeze.

“My friends, the Devil approaches.” Tendou’s faint voice travels through the opulent front door.

Sighing, you slide off the bed and tug your day dress on. Without being asked, Ushijima ties the laces in the back together. “Tell your mother I said hello, won’t you?” you tease, kissing him deeply on the balcony.

“I’d prefer not to think about my mother with your lips pressed to mine, darling,” he replies.

You giggle softly, and with one leg dangling off the balustrade, say, “And careful not to wear yourself out dancing, Toshi. Expect a visit from me later.”

His sonorous laughter rings through the air as you jump and land deftly on the freshly cut grass below, running the whole way back to your humble apartment in the eleventh arrondissement.

Regrets of not sneaking into the ball will burn into your brain after Tendou arrives at your door later that evening with a faraway stare on his face.

Towards the end of the ball, Ushijima Wakatoshi is led away from the dance floor and into the gardens by his scheming younger brother Goshiki.

He doesn’t return. The beloved Crown Prince of France dies on his twenty-first birthday with a dagger in his chest and poison in his veins.

With two lives under your belt, you reach the cruel understanding that in every life you live, August 13th is the day that Ushijima Wakatoshi dies again and again and again.

In a sense, memory is foresight.

NEO SEOUL, 2144

Tomorrow, the Union Revolutionary Group exposes the government for their crimes against your people.

But tonight, your head rests against his chest–– a habit you picked up sometime after Germany, 1943, even though you are presently in Neo Seoul, 2144. To be honest, you’re not sure if it’s even 2144. Neo Seoul’s calendar isn’t like the one you went through your first few lives with and you’re certain one year here is equivalent to two back on the Earth you knew… or something like that. Either way, every August 13th passes under your nose without detection. Every day passes uneasily, because although you never truly know when anyone dies in any life, you really don’t know when he will in this one.

But hearing Ushijima’s heart beat firmly manages to take the edge off yours. Every pulse is a murmured confirmation that everything is still okay.

You jerk back when he stirs from sleep. Disorientated, Ushijima blinks at your dimly lit figure before registering that it’s you. A confused expression crosses his features. What had you just been doing?

“Is everything alright?” His voice is raspy with drowsiness but he sits upright against the headboard anyway.

“Yeah.”

“No, it’s not. Tell me what’s wrong.” Nothing ever slips past him–– at least, not when it comes to you. Still, you bite your lip and contemplate if it’s worth mentioning. Three years of working alongside the renegade Commander (and hundreds more from other lifetimes) have taught you that words of comfort do not belong in Ushijima’s vocabulary. But it’s the night before you, the only known freed Fabricant working with the Union, are going to expose the Unanimity’s enslavement of Fabricants to all inhabitants of Neo Seoul. And…

“I’m scared, Wakatoshi.”

He thinks you’re talking about tomorrow. His eyes dart to the holographic digits floating throughout his room. 12:02 AM. You’re talking about today, then. He’s not wrong–– you are afraid of today. But you’re also afraid every day.

Ushijima pauses, wondering what to say. He’s never felt fear the same way others do. Others might only see a myriad of ways they can fail or die but he simply sees a chance to prove himself. A chance to emerge victorious. “If you let yourself be scared,” he says, “then you lose without fighting. Fear is a wasted emotion. Even at your last breath, you should never be afraid.”

As you mull his words over in your head, a section of your hair falls in front of your face. Ushijima’s fingers twitch. Would it be too much to––

“Then what should I feel instead?” He stills.

The question hangs in the air, thickening until the spacious room feels suffocating. Normal people–– people you knew a couple of lifetimes ago–– would probably say something like “love” or “hope” or even “don’t”. You think Ushijima might, too.

But when Ushijima speaks, he says, “Feel right now.”

A shift in the moonbeam pouring through your surrounding glass walls casts a muted glow over your features, breaking through the darkness of the room. Ushijima’s olive eyes flash and fall to your shining lips.

His Adam’s apple bobs. Anticipation bubbles in your stomach.

You think that you might die tomorrow. He might die any day. What are you waiting for?

Feeling a fiery rush of blood surge through your veins, you close the distance between your bodies until the tips of your noses touch. Gently, your hand comes up to the back of his neck, feeling his pulse speed up under your fingers. He instantly reaches out, grips your waist firmly. Hot, uneven breaths fan across your face.

“What––”

“I know it’s forbidden between Fabricants and pure-bloods,” you breathe out, “but––”

Ushijima nudges his lips against yours. They move stiffly, unsurely, but it’s sincere. It’s his first kiss and it’s your… you’ve lost count by now. It doesn’t really matter, though. Past, future, or present, every one of his touches feels new.

Both of you might die tomorrow. But tonight, you both are so very alive.

And when his heart pounds, unmuffled, bare against yours, you are reminded to live now.

Twenty-one hours later, a laser beam whizzes past your ear.

“Go faster!” you shout over the wind, tightening your arms around Ushijima’s waist. “We have to get to the broadcast station now.”

“I’m trying,” he grits out, pressing his foot harder against the hoverbike’s pedal. You speed up, but only a little. “Fuck. Remember what I taught you about the laser pistols?”

“Always aim a little higher than you want to.” From the mirrors on the side, you see the corners of his lips quirk up. You reach for the gun in his belt.

Not a single police officer remains on your tail when you step foot into the broadcast station.

“We don’t have much time, miracle girl,” Tendou, a fellow Union soldier, says once you arrive. He punches the elevator button. Instantly, the chute opens. “Cameras have picked up on at least five Unanimity squads headed our way from the city.”

The sinking feeling that today out of all days might be August 13th suddenly weighs on your stomach. A shaky breath leaves your mouth.

Ushijima stops you before you can step in. Cupping your face with his large hands, the brunet gazes deeply into your eyes. “I believe in you,” he murmurs. “I believe in you.” His fingers brush against your cheekbones. You let your eyelids close, relishing in this stolen moment between two new lovers.

Ushijima presses his lips against yours, kissing you as if he’s trying to carve a message into your bones. He whispers his conviction one last time before stepping back and allowing Tendou to push you lightly into the elevator. The thought that Ushijima’s words allude to more than just faith nudges your brain as the two men grow smaller in your sight.

Halfway through your revelations, the Unanimity cuts through the metal doors of the station. Behind the glass panels encasing the radio room, you watch the shootout begin. Every bone in your body screams for you to join your comrades, but you remember what your orders are. No matter what happens, do not stop the broadcast. If the truth doesn’t come out now, the Union will have sacrificed everything in vain.

You will your voice to steady when Unanimity soldiers take out the Union soldiers hiding behind Tendou’s barricade.

You will your hands to unclench when Ushijima deftly slides over his squad’s barricade and tosses a plasma grenade towards a cluster of enemy soldiers, then picks off the survivors with his Union rifle.

You will your breath to endure when the brunet is blown back by a grenade tossed by another squadron. Ushijima’s cranium collides with the floor. His body stills; blood red as cherry wine pools around his head like a cruel halo. Swallowing, you push forth. You’re a soldier.

But you can’t help the way your throat dries or hands shake or lungs tighten when you see his head turn ever-so-slightly in your direction.

He smiles in his last breath.

(The Archivist asks if you loved Ushijima before you are taken away. You tell him you always have, do, will.

The Unanimity guillotine doesn’t scare you like you think it should. Knowing what and who waits ahead, it feels more like a kiss to your neck.)

QAASUURI, 3003

As you step out of the metal carriage, the ground beneath you begins to vibrate. This, as you’ve learned, can only mean that you are standing atop another ley line.

Olive eyes stare at you impassively when you look up. A dazzling array of awards and medals is pinned to his chest over a white military uniform. Compared to all the other soldiers around him, you gather that the deep purple cape over his shoulders means he’s someone important. Possibly your betrothed? You briefly recall another lifetime in which he’d been the crown prince of somewhere, and you, by a spectacular stroke of misfortune, had only been a composer then. Fighting back a smug grin, you muse that this time, you are a princess.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi, Captain of the Qaasuuri Royal Guard, at your service,” he says with a low bow. “King Washijou appointed me to ensure your safety during your courtship with the prince, your highness. These are trying times, especially with the war against Ibis.” Your heart falls. So it’s one of those lives.

Mustering the warmest smile you can, you curtsy and say, “Thank you, Ushijima. I hope we can get to know each other better.”

You do.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the Qaasuuri are a race more android than human. But nothing about him feels artificial. He is as real as he was in Berlin. Atlantis. Cairo. Camelot. Hanoi. Olympus. Tallahassee. He feels as human, too.

You get to relearn the way his cheeks flare up when you call him Toshi and not Ushijima for his first time (force of habit)... and every subsequent time (at your pleasure).

You get to relearn his wry humour, how every-so-often his stony demeanour breaks after one of your quick jabs, usually in response to his agonisingly blunt remarks. (“You should have brought a coat, princess,” he notes with disapproval when you shiver in the chilly spring air. You promise him that you look better with hypothermia than in any Qaasuuri coat. An amused breath blows out from his nose. And though he doesn’t say a word more on the subject, his white jacket over your shoulders speaks more than enough.)

You get to relearn how his hands feel on your skin. The first lesson is your mistake: missing a step down the spiralling staircase on your way to dinner. Automatically, his hand grips your arm to pull you back. He uses a little more force than necessary, though, and tugs you into his firm chest. Neither of you can look at each other for the rest of the evening. The second is his mistake: reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you read in the palace library, somehow knowing it’s one of your pet peeves. Both of you freeze when his fingers accidentally brush against your cheek. Ushijima thinks he’s never felt skin softer than yours–– you think it’s been too long since he last touched you.

The third is neither a mistake nor just one of your doings. It happens on a cool autumn evening as the two of you walk through the palace gardens with your hands dangling haphazardly at your sides, knocking against each other again and again as if begging for an opening. Finally, you acquiesce. You slip your hand into Ushijima’s cold palms. And though nothing shows on his stony face, his heart whirrs like an overheating engine for the rest of your walk. He doesn’t let go until the iron palace comes back into view.

“We should stop,” he pants between fervent kisses, “before this gets out of hand.” You nip at his neck. “You’re betrothed to the prince––” you suck on the skin between his collarbones and throat, drawing a low groan from his lips “––and I can never give you a throne.”

You pull back, knees on either side of his waist, and stare down into his eyes. “I don’t want a throne.” Ushijima watches you with rapt attention. Sometimes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he remembers. Slowly, you repeat his words from lifetimes ago. “I only want your heart.” An unreadable expression crosses his face. “Your devotion.” It’s not recognition. “And your soul.”

It’s conviction.

By now you’ve seen many breathtaking things: entire cities built from ice, the end of the ocean, a Venusian sunrise. None compare to Ushijima Wakatoshi with his pupils blown wide, hair tousled, lips flushed. Red with love.

None compare when he promises, “You have that and more.”

A pause.

“Show me.”

With an effortless flip, Ushijima’s muscled body hovers over yours, olive eyes flashing wildly in your dim chambers.

Amid fast breaths and guttural moans, amid steely olive eyes and parted lips, amid the subatomic space between your bodies, you feel it cloak your skin like armour.

Love.

(The Ibis storm the Qaasuuri castle one month before the wedding. Ushijima fights the invaders valiantly, superhuman modifications undoubtedly being of help. But there’s just too many of them. The last thing he tells you is to run. The world burns when you look over your shoulder, only to see a Ibisian sword drive through his heart.

The Qaasuuri are a race more android than human. But they still bleed the same.)

TOKYO, JAPAN, 2018

The oldest you ever witness him live to is thirty-two years old.

It’s the morning of August 13th and you walk into the kitchen to the sight of Ushijima Wakatoshi lifting your daughter up into the sky, spinning her little body around in circles, the pancakes on the stove slowly bronzing to a mouthwatering shade of gold.

“Mommy!” she giggles when she sees you. Leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, you watch your husband set your daughter back down on the ground with a soft smile on his face.

“Sleep well?” you ask, ruffling her hair. She nods happily and bounces back to the stove. Her latest obsession has been cooking in the kitchen, though you’re not sure when exactly she moved on from “potion-making” in the backyard.

“Morning,” Ushijima murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you tease, leaning into his chest. As the words leave your mouth, the sunny morning haze cools into desaturated blue. But it’s been thirty-two years, you reason with a hard swallow. Maybe the cycle has broken. Your eyes dart to your daughter’s little figure on the stepping stool, her small hands gripping the spatula flipping a bronzed pancake over to its pale side. How would she…

You steel yourself, though a small fissure can’t help but open in your heart from the force.

She isn’t your first child and she won’t be your last. Time, you’ve learned, likes to play games, likes to set you on the same storyline again and again just to see if another ending will show itself. There will be more tomorrows and more yesterdays. There always is.

But that doesn’t make todays hurt any less.

Ushijima tilts his head to the side, olive eyes peering into yours. “Is everything okay?” He never misses (or missed) anything–– not when the two of you were heisting in Switzerland or revelling in Alexandria like Dionysians, not when you were crammed in the same codebreaking room during World War I or sailed across the Atlantic to your doom in 1912. Not now.

But you’re tired of carrying each bygone lifetime into the next. Willing yourself to forget the fact that you’ve seen him die again and again on August 13th, you put everything into the lie that slips your teeth: “More than okay.”

You choose to cherish the present.

“Order up!” your daughter exclaims, proudly presenting the plate of pancakes to you and Ushijima. “I even made one shaped like a heart for Dad for his birthday!”

With a grin, you come closer to inspect the heart-shaped pancake. “Excellent work, sous chef!” you compliment, tapping her nose lightly. It’s sharp like her father’s. She, however, inherited your eyes. You turn around to face your husband. “What does Head Chef Ushijima think?”

Smiling softly, he takes the plate from her hands and, without a second look, says, “It’s perfect. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Breakfast passes in a blur of laughter and honey.

(You think you have gone through another August 13th unscathed when night falls and all of your friends exit through the cherry wood doors of one of Tokyo’s finest restaurants. On the car ride home, however, your white SUV swerves to avoid a deer in the road and flips once, twice, three times.

You wake up neither a mother nor a wife.)

TOKYO, JAPAN, 2020

A subtle sigh of relief exits your lungs when Ushijima Wakatoshi enters through the front door at 12:01 AM, red Team Japan suitcase in hand. He’s back from the airport. More importantly, he’s alive.

“Did I make it?” he asks with an upturned corner of his mouth. His olive eyes are half-closed from the exhausting transatlantic flight and his muscles are still a bit sore from how vigorously he played the game against Argentina (Oikawa’s team, for god’s sake)... but he’s here.

And he can’t be any happier.

You know that he’s talking about the time, probably hoping to joke that coming home to you is the best birthday present he can imagine. In that regard, he technically hasn’t made it.

And yet, you leap into his arms and press kisses all over his face as you repeat “yes” again

and again

and again.

[pla-teau]

LOKI EPISODE FOUR : THE NEXUS EVENT

GIF CREDIT TO: @luke-skywalker SPOILERS AHEAD. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

SYLVIE | there's a lot to process in the short time we get of young sylvie. it didn't seem like she was doing anything that caused a nexus event. when we see her, she's simply playing with her toys on asgard. sylvie asks about what her crime was later on with renslayer but it's never clear cut as to what she did. the only thing we know is that she escaped from renslayer which is why she's so hell bent on capturing and pruning sylvie. i have a certain thought on this later.

WE SURVIVE | the words loki tells sylvie just when she’s given up and accepted that she’ll die on lamentis. that’s what makes loki a loki - yes, he fails over and over again but each and every time we’ve witnessed his ‘death’ he comes back or when things seem to possibly end for his story, loki still manages to survive.

LAMENTIS | based on the namesake of the episode, this is the nexus event that caused them to be found but what was it? personally, from watching the episode and keeping in mind that this is 2012!loki, i think that the nexus event was hope and acceptance between them. i think there’s genuine hope despite being stuck on a doomed planet about to become smaller flying rocks in space. in every apocalypse so far, we’ve seen that basically anticipating and accepting the end of the world doesn’t cause a breach in the timeline because what is there to hope for? it’s all going to be destroyed anyway no matter the little fake hope you have inside yourself telling you that everything is going to be alright. loki and sylvie up to this point haven’t had that kind of hope before ever in their lives. with the acceptance part, i think it's self-acceptance and acceptance of their roles in the universe. roll with me here, loki throughout the mcu has never accepted his fate or what's supposed to happen; he's always fighting it and trying to come out on top as a ruler of people whether it's earth, asgard and sakaar. he doesn't accept to not be a ruler or on the losing side of a battle against earth's mightiest heroes and at odds with the other marvel characters. he doesn't fully accept himself either because he didn't know he was adopted until at least one thousand years later and he couldn't accept that he wasn't destined for something other than a shadow or simply his title as the god of mischief. it made a lot more sense in my head tbh. a lot of people freaking out about this moment being loki falling in love with sylvie/himself but i don't think that's it. loki for once genuinely cares about someone else and i think it's platonic cause while i have little faith in the mouse house giving us more than confirmation that loki is bisexual, i don't think they'd make loki fall in love with himself.

LOKI'S TIME CELL | a nostalgic reveal we get is sif in this looped time cell plucked from loki's memory. apparently, he cut off a chunk of her hair because he thought it would be funny. in typical sif fashion, she proceeds to beat him up in retaliation as well of sharing some biting words. it's interesting how after a few loops and knees to the nuts, loki apologizes to sif about the prank and admits that he's afraid of being alone and acts narcissistic and like a pompous asshole if you will because of this fear. i think this is a bigger break through of his character than the one we saw in the first episode because he's admitting it to someone from his life that he highly respected but acted like a child to her to get her attention even if it was negative. i wish for more vulnerable loki moments because it continues to prove that loki isn't just the god of mischief, he can be more (as thor said in ragnarok).

MOBIUS VS LOKI | honestly, this whole interrogation scene screamed mobius being jealous of loki making pals with sylvie and i loved it. what i like is that mobius does air the sentiment that we all have in our heads after realizing that loki and sylvie did somehow click to create the nexus event. it's narcissism to the max. again, i think loki truly cares for sylvie in a platonic or even a familial sense since they both don't make connections too often with others (romantic or platonic).

HUNTER B-15 | i was wondering what happened with her after her run in with sylvie at the roxxcart supermarket. clearly, sylvie unlocked a memory within her subconscious as well and is starting to doubt herself. we don't see what memory of hers it was but it's enough to make her break protocol and go against the TVA later on in the episode. in conclusion, we have no choice but to stan this queen. also seems like she wasn't reset in that final battle so we'll hopefully see her in the next episode.

RAVONNA & MOBIUS | their friendship is put to the test in this episode. while being of a higher position than mobius, ravonna does seem to care deeply for mobius. she said so herself, she wants to protect mobius...but from the truth instead of the false danger about sylvie that she's filling his head with. ravonna clearly knows a lot more than she's letting on and that the TVA is an elaborate lie. i think she wants to protect mobius from the truth because she doesn't seem to have other close friendships like the one with him. it's also clear she cares for him when he's pruned (supposedly!) by another hunter. also, there's this other analyst/field agent mobius always brings up when we see them in her office so i wonder if it's someone who also knows about the grand lie the TVA is or is even some alternate variant of kang the conqueror who we know is supposed to be introduced in the third ant-man movie. it'd be interesting to see if kang is teased one way or another in the final two episodes.

DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU DESERVE TO BE ALONE? | the question mobius poses to loki when he starts to believe that they may be telling the truth. it's an interesting question to pose because we've been hearing it and have seen it throughout the mcu with loki. the time loop loki's stuck in, sif tells him that he'll always be alone. throughout the mcu, loki has been alone in his plans and mischief despite being surrounded by his family, his future enemies, and his people. loki has known nothing but being on his own, being his own island of chaos. as sylvie put it earlier, they're a product of the universe trying to break free, chaos. mobius knows that this nexus event has something to do with the two of them, for once, accepting that they're not alone or that they're not just a cosmic mistake, there's hope for them to be whatever they want and not just confined to their mischievous roles.

RAVONNA & SYLVIE | in the elevator, sylvie confronts ravonna about her crime as a child. it's something everyone wants to know, what does a young loki have to do to be charged and reset by the TVA? ravonna seems to know that this something she can leverage and torture sylvie with so she claims to not remember. sylvie says that it must've been important and severe enough to mess up the sacred timeline. maybe she wasn't supposed to know that she was adopted until later in her life like our loki. she's supposed to be causing trouble and be this terrible villain but what if with sylvie knowing her true parentage at such an early age, she learned to accept herself/identity and made peace with it. that's another thing that could've caused the nexus event between the two, they had found self-acceptance even at just the brink of death. maybe they're supposed to do so but later in their lives in their own timelines so that's why it's enough to destroy the TVA as mobius hinted at earlier. happy that sylvie decided to keep ravonna for information so i expect the next episode to have them in ravonna's office or still in the timekeeper chambers as ravonna tells us what is going on.

THE TIMEKEEPERS | when sylvie beheads the central timekeeper, we learn that they're mindless androids. it never ends, there's no throne to sit upon after killing them so it seems. it was all just a giant hoax but this further feeds into my personal theory that kang, one way or another, is behind all of this. what i find really interesting is how the other two timekeepers laugh when sylvie beheads one. whoever is behind controlling the fake androids, they have a way to see what is happening and communicate in real time with the TVA agents and variants. hopefully in the final two episodes we see what the hell is going on and how the TVA came to be and why.

LOKI POST CREDIT SCENE | so apparently, loki isn't reset or something of the sorts. he's actually sent to another world. i believe this is an alternate new york where we'll see president loki as you can see the remains of the old avengers tower. this makes me think about mobius' fate to be similar to loki's; possibly sent to either the same place or a similar world. we see three human new lokis here. from the credits, we have classic loki (richard e. grant), kid loki (jack veal), and boastful loki (deobia oparei). apparently there's also a crocodile!loki and i'm here for it. can't wait to see how our favorite variant gets out of it next week!

oh god, this was so rusty and unorganized but hope if whoever reads this can somewhat understand the points i'm trying to get across.

[harryskalechips]

This sucks Part 3

A/N Hiiiiii! Here is part 3! It’s a bit fat but I hope you enjoy 🥰

Word count 5644

Warning: Smut :))))

Part 1, Part 2

Flashback…

Vanilla, warmth, and little giggles were the best things Harry could wake up to and although, he couldn’t have it all the time - at Y/N’s apartment they were always available. 

A finger slowly drags itself across his face as he tries to hide his smile. Grazing from his nose to his cheeks to the outline of his soft lips. Muffled laughs fill the room as Y/N tries to wake him up. She bites onto her pillow as she tickles her boyfriend’s face. 

“Ouch!” She yelps as her boyfriend caught her finger in his mouth. He opens his eyes to find her beautiful hair sprawled out on the white pillow sheets. The light from her window  was shining through her curtains hitting the corner of their bed. He teasingly bites as he sucks on it while his eyes stare innocently at her.

A few seconds later, the wet digit falls from his lips as he moves closer to wrap his arm on his girl. His face finds a comforting position between her shoulder and her neck. 

“Waking me up love?” He murmurs as his mouth leaves wet kisses on her shoulder. 

“I love tracing your features. Sometimes I forget this real.” She turns over to face him. Her hand tracing his jaw this time. “You’re really pretty you know.”

“I think you’re prettier than me.” Harry leans in to kiss her. His hands gripping onto her waist as he tries to rub himself on her soft legs.

“Not true. You’re the best man that I’ve ever known.” She wasn’t lying. All her past boyfriends didn’t want to treat her right but somehow she found herself in bed with a man who seemed to actually care for her. Her hips involuntary move forward as he sits up a bit to hover over her. 

“Someone’s a little excited, don’t you think?” He licks his lips as he takes both of her hands and holds them above her. “Last night wasn’t enough baby?” 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” She glances down as she purposely bites her lip. She then looks up at him innocently. “Harry Jr. seems like he’s begging for more.” He laughs as he turns his head to the side to look at the window. 

“We should probably give him what he wants right?”

“Mhm.” He leans down to kiss her as she thrusts her hips forward.

“Fuck baby, look at you.”

Bzzz. Bzzz. ….. Bzzz. Bzzzz…..

Harry pulls away and gets off of her as Y/N sighs. She reaches the side of her nightstand to grab her phone. It’s her alarm. “I have to get ready for class.” She pouts as Harry palms himself.

“Maybe, you should stay in bed a bit longer. I won’t have you for long especially since you’re coming with me back to London next week.” He takes the blanket off of her so he can put it behind his back and throw it onto both of them. “See, now we’re both warm and we can get back to what we were doing.” He attempts to snuggle her. His mouth forming into a smile as he almost feels her body relax back into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby. You may be a pop star but I need to get a degree.” She kisses his lips as she gets up from the bed. Harry watches her as she takes his hoodie from last night and puts it on. “Now, I’m going to make breakfast while you help Harry junior.” She awkwardly makes guns with her fingers as she walks back to open her bedroom door.

“Or you can come here and watch me. Better yet, help me out.” He smirks as he leans forward to pull her back to bed. “Don’t need to make breakfast if I got my meal right here.”

~

When Harry was younger during his days in One Direction, They took some time in every country to explore a bit. He found himself in this old family vintage store with Niall during their time in Japan of 2013. As they looked at some of the things they sold, he couldn’t help but be fascinated by the little treasures that people forgot about. He was walking through the opposite aisle where his mate was when his eyes caught sight of the red strings that were hooked onto the wall. He didn’t know what they were but his hand couldn’t help but intertwine itself into the strings.

“You like that?” The old lady slowly walks to him as she grips onto the shelves to help herself walk. “That no buy. Therefore decoration.” Harry immediately pulls away as he tries to hide his embarrassed face from her. “You know what it’s about?” She smiles at him as she touches the strings too. “It’s the red thread of fate.” Harry looks at her with a confused facial expression. 

“The red string of fate connects two destined lovers together. Regardless of time, place or circumstances… this magical thread…” She struggles to translate her thoughts into English for this young man. “May stretch or tangle but it will never break.”

Ever since that trip, Harry couldn’t forget that myth in that little shop. Maybe, the old lady was bullshitting him but he couldn’t get rid of that thought. The thought of having a soulmate. It was the hopeless romantic side of him that believed his girl was there waiting for him and no matter where he is or what happens… he will find her. Y/N. The girl he met as he was buying coffee close to Columbia Records’ building. 

It was an accident when she turned around too quickly to only pour her $5 coffee on him. Being a gentleman he is, he bought her a new cup of coffee as they walked alongside each other to a secluded bench off a trail they found themselves on while at the park. 

But as time kept moving forward, his heart began to mend again after feeling death on his shoulders for the past year. 

It was now, December but more importantly, it’s been exactly a year since he met her. He could barely survive his tour without her but now that it’s been a long while, he knew too well that nothing could happen. What happened to her being his soulmate? He obviously took her for granted and now she’s gone. All he has left is his beaten up journal with loose papers sticking out as it gathers dust on his piano. 

“Should I leave?” A raspy feminine voice interrupts his thoughts as he takes his gaze off his piano and onto the girl wearing his shirt. 

“Yeah. Take off my shirt too.” He sips the hot liquid into his mouth as he holds onto the handle of his mug. “Put it in the laundry basket.” He eyes her as she walks back into his room. He had just finished his tour for Fine Line and now that his schedule was free, he had some spare time on his hands. Especially to play around with Eva.

He doesn’t love the girl. No way! but he does get lonely some nights and instead of calling the number he knows by heart, he forces his finger to tap another one. 

~

It doesn’t snow in Los Angeles but Y/N always found herself craving a cup of hot coffee from Blitzers during times like these. It wasn’t the cliche feeling of having a warm cup in her hand as she walked through the snow instead, she used it as her drug. During her time in University, caffeine was the only thing that got her moving. She graduated last June and now she is finding herself nervous as hell after having one of her many interviews at another stupid corporation. She takes her cup from the counter as another name is called. 

“Hershell?”

“Sorry to bump into you, love.” A man bumps into her shoulder as he tries to grab his drink while she tries to walk away. He was wearing his shades and the hood of his hoodie was on as he made a perfectly criss-cross tie in the front with the strings. She glanced at him quickly and gave him a nod as she continued walking out of the shop. Was that him? 

“Y/N.” The familiar voice calls her out as she turns around to smile at him. Harry held the door for another customer entering and soon let’s go.

“I was wondering if that was you in there.” She eyes the iced coffee in his hands.

“Long time no see.” He walks towards her. As he stood 4 feet from her, he hid his hand in his pocket while he observed her. He truly thought he would never see her after his show in September but somehow the first visit back to this coffee shop, his eyes already caught her figure as she bumped into him… again. Her hair grew longer and it seemed like she dyed the ends. She was holding onto her cup of coffee as she had her purse in another. A pink lip and a business sort of like outfit.

“You graduated right? Where are you working now?” He takes a sip of his cold drink. Luckily, his shades covered his eyes. He was almost embarrassed just by remembering their last encounter. Remember when you begged for her like a pathetic dog and she still rejected you?

“Oh, I’m applying for a couple of jobs. I never knew you still get your drinks here.” Y/N switches the subject quickly. She couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that she wasn’t good enough for any of the businesses here. 

“Yeah um, I actually just finished the last leg for my tour this year. I was just craving some coffee after having a meeting from work.”

“Cool.” She bites her lip as she pretends to be in shock after looking at her watch. It wasn’t even working. She hasn’t replaced the batteries in 7 years! “Look H. I have to go. It was nice seeing you.” She was scared to lean in and hug him. 

“Alright bye.” He purses his lips as he watches her turn around. “Catch you next time.” What? Why would you say that? You haven’t seen her for 8 months nor do you have her number!

It was weird to see her walk away from him again but this time it was as if those four months of dating meant nothing to them. There were no tears in her eyes or his. Instead, they’re in the busy streets casually bumping into each other and bidding farewell as if they hadn’t cried their hearts out the last time. 

~

“You saw him again and the first thing you do is attempt to cut the conversation short?” Jenna sits in front of Y/N in their booth as they wait for their plates to arrive. “Babe, remember last time we spoke? You missed him.” Her hand takes Y/N’s across the table. They’ve been best friends since the first year of Uni and despite the new stage in their lives, they chose to keep in touch. 

“Jenna, he looked good.” Y/N rests her head on the table. She looks up to the girl and pouts. “He had his hood on and his sunglasses but the way he called out for me when he exited the shop…. He’s moved on.” 

“First off, you told him to move on. He was crying on his knees begging you to be with him in September. Lastly, what do you mean just by the way he called you out? How do you know he’s over you?”

“I don’t know. He just sounded okay.” Y/N sits up and rests her chin on her hands. “He went through his 7 stages of grief while I chose to just forget about it.”

“Karma is a bitch huh? Now you want him back?” She laughs a bit. “Look Y/N, you can’t let yourself be stubborn your whole life. If you know what you want. Take it. Stop being so scared. Now, Harry’s gone and you lost one of your chances to be in a happy relationship with a great guy.”

“He’s probably with some other girl now.”

“So what? If you can’t have him at least try to keep in your life. He made you happy.” Jenna’s eyes look behind Y/N to see their food coming. “Now let’s eat. I have to tell you all about my desk buddy at work. He’s a total cutie.”

~

As Y/N was walking the stairs to her apartment, she noticed Jim her landlord standing in front of her door. He was a nice guy. His family lived on the first floor and during the holidays, he would always deliver some homemade curry his wife made while she exchanged her own signature dish for them to enjoy. 

“Hey, Jim.” She smiles. 

“Hello Y/N, I know it’s late but I wanted to remind you about your bills. I know this whole year has been a struggle but I was hoping you would get a job by now and pay them.”

“I know I’m sorry. I promise I’ll give you my rent for this month just give me an extra few weeks.” She sighs. Don’t misunderstand. She was able to pay her rent every month it just took her a couple of weeks every time to get the money in. Now, that she has student debt and no job, it was more of a struggle. Funny thing is as much Harry adored her homey apartment, he had no idea she was struggling to pay for the place. He just assumed it was school stressing her out but maybe that’s why Y/N needed a reason to take a break from him. It was hard to focus on getting money while your boyfriend just threw money in the air for fun. 

She needed a job and she needed one right now.

“Hello?”

“Hey Glenne, I need a favour.” 

~

“Harry, you never know taking this brand deal may do you good.” Jeff parks the car in front of Glenne’s building. He always picked her up from work and today after having lunch with Harry, he decided to bring him on the ride. 

“I know but I was thinking of taking a break from the cameras.”

“And write new music? You have a thousand of those in your journal.”

“Anything that was written about Y/N, won’t be recorded for anyone to listen publicly.” He shakes his head as he leans back in the seats. He was sitting in the back since Glenne was obviously going to sit with her boyfriend. But those songs he wrote for Y/N was his only evidence that what happened between them wasn’t a fling. Despite being together for four months, it was intense and real. 

“Hey, babe!” Glenne opens the door to sit down and kiss him. “Harry fuck! I didn’t know you were with him.” She turns around to see Harry, confused.

“What’s wrong?” Jeff questions as Glenne looks out her window with anxiety. 

“I offered Y/N a ride home. She had an interview with my boss today.” Harry’s eyes widen. Holy shit. Was he going to see Y/N regardless if he went to the coffee shop or not. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jeff looks at Harry then at his girlfriend.

“Why didn’t you tell me you brought H with you!” She was cut off as Y/N opens the back door.

“Hey Je- Oh! Hi Harry.” She smiles and sits down in the car. Glenne can already imagine Y/N choking her the next time they see each other alone. 

“Hey Y/N. Sorry, I brought Harry along, we just had lunch together.” 

“That’s alright.”

“We’ll drop you home first and then H,” Glenne reassures Y/N as Jeff drives out of the lot. 

“Hey.” Harry looks at Y/N. He smiles softly biting his cheek. He was nervous as fuck as he sat very closely to her. She smiles back and decides to talk to Glenne for the rest of the ride.

“Your boss offered me a job.”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” she turns back to smile at her. “You deserve it!”

“Thanks!”

~

After twenty minutes of driving and catching up, Jeff’s car pulls up to a familiar building Harry and Y/N knew too well. Back when they were dating, he used to cover his face walking into her apartment at night. Now, he stayed in his friend’s car just looking at it. 

“Thanks for the ride guys.” Y/N opens the door to get out. “Bye Harry.” She waves at him as she steps out. Harry just looked at her as she closed the door. They watched her step into the building before driving off again. 

“Can you stop the car?” Harry blurts out as Jeff waits for the cars to clear so he can turn onto the road and off the property. 

“Harry.” Glenne looks at him in pity. “Don’t tell me what I think you’re doing.”

“I have to.”

“You’re right.” Jeff unlocks the doors and glances at his friend. “Go talk to her.”

His heart was beating fast. Faster than ever this past year. “Thanks, mate.” He smiles at the guy who looks at him in surprise. It was Jim who just so happened to be watering the plants in the lobby. Harry opens the door to the stairwell and runs 4 flights of stairs to Y/N’s floor. He would’ve used the elevator but after a whole year, he knew better that it still wouldn’t be fixed.

Knock knock…

Y/N somehow had managed to change in a pair of shorts and a shirt as soon as she came home today. Her plan was to drink a couple of glasses of wine tonight in celebration of finally getting a job.

“Harry?” She opens the door in shock to see him panting. He was wearing his black jeans and a regular band tee. 

“Hi, I was thinking if we could talk.”

“Alright come on in.” She opens the door wider for him. He looked around her apartment to see how nothing has changed. It still looked the very same. It still smelled the same. All he was wondering if she has changed.

They sit on the couch as Y/N grabs another wine glass for him. “I know it’s a bit early but I was planning on drinking in celebration of today.”

“I know. Congratulations by the way.” 

“Thanks.” She pours him a bit and some for herself. It was just about 5 PM and a little drink wouldn’t hurt. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” He looks at her as he talks a bit more slowly now. It almost seemed like a dream to be here again. “I had to ask Jeff to stop his car so I can be here. I just thought that maybe we should catch up.” 

“Oh… true.” she takes a sip of her wine. Was there a possibility that Harry still thought of her. She knew he was too good for her. How could he? He deserves someone better. But she promised herself after walking home from dinner with Jenna, that if this offered ever came up again... she would take it. 

“I thought you had a car?” He looked around in the picture frames. He didn’t know what her boyfriend looked like but he wondered if they were still together.

“I actually uh sold it to get some money.” It was true. She had so many part-time jobs as a student that she simply burnt out after graduation. She was exhausted and the only thing she could do to earn a couple of months off was selling her car.

“Oh.” Harry looks at her in pity. “You loved that sedan though.”

“It was shit anyway and it’s not like my mom would give me some money if I even asked.” Harry knew the broken relationship between Y/N and her mother. It wasn’t a surprise that on the plane ride to London, Y/N was too excited to meet his. 

“Doesn’t your boyfriend give you rides?” He puts his wine glass down as he sits beside his ex-girlfriend. He likes to befriend his exes especially if they ended on good terms but it never numbs down the pain he felt. 

For Y/N, she was different. Maybe he wanted to befriend her but there was obviously that little feeling of wanting her back. Yes, he knows he said he was over her. He said it multiple times as he sat in the seat in front of his bed as Eva slept in his sheets. But somehow, seeing her again made his mind cloudy and his heart itchy. Too selfish and tempted to get back what was once his.

“We broke up in October. He uh cheated on me.”

“What the fuck? Are you okay?” Harry frowns as he sits up a bit more. 

“It’s fine.” She laughs as she places her glass back on her table. “I wasn’t that into him. He was way too jealous about things.” Harry raises his eyebrows for her to continue. “He was jealous of you asking me to go backstage.” She confesses as she rolls her eyes. 

“Please he would beg to leave the room if he knew what was truly going on in there.” It was screaming and crying and a bit of kissing. The worst nightmare a boyfriend could imagine.

“I know.” she laughs at his comment. “How about you? You have a girlfriend or something?”

“No.” He wasn’t technically lying but… he also kind of was. Eva wasn’t his girlfriend -just a fuck buddy. “Haven’t dated anyone after you.” She smiles at him. Truly the wine was kicking into her but she wasn’t drunk, she just had the confidence she needed.

“I miss you.” she murmurs as she lays her head on the couch staring at him. His lips still looked as soft as ever. He had a bit of facial hair but it honestly turned her on a bit more. She hasn’t had sex since 9 months ago. It wasn’t that Robbie and she didn’t try to do that stuff. They simply just weren’t in that stage of their relationship yet especially, when he was getting it somewhere else.

“I miss you too.” He bites his lip. He never expected Y/N to be this outgoing. He expected they would have a chat, become friends again and leave it there. 

She leans in to kiss him as her hands rest on his cheek. She wasn’t going to lie. Kissing him back in September gave her butterflies the same way as it is right now. He ushers her to straddle him as his hands hold onto her waist. She slowly rubs herself on him as he moans, kissing down her neck. 

“Baby, I missed this.” He whispers as he pulls himself away from her to only find her lips again. He kissed her with all the passion burning in him. She was moaning, fighting for dominance as their tongues fought back and forth but Harry knew just want to do when she started acting this way. He took his right hand and gripped on her chin to open her mouth a bit wider so he can kiss her more. Her hands rested on his shoulder as she continued to rub herself on him. 

“Still a needy girl. Aren’t you love?” 

“I just really missed you.” 

His hands hold onto the back of her thighs as he carries her off the couch and into her bedroom. Her sheets were different but overall, it still looked the same and that made Harry very happy.

“Why are you smiling?” She takes her mouth off his neck to see him looking at her room.

“I just missed this place.” He throws her on the bed as he pulls off her shorts with her panties. She moves a bit as he takes off his shirt. She almost gasped as she watches his arms flex to pull the tee off of him. She missed his tattoos and his soft chest. The same body she would cuddle as she fell asleep after studying for a fat exam. “Fuck, you look so good.” He licks his lip as he urgently unzips his jeans. He frustratingly pulls at the ends of his pants while balancing himself. Why did he wear jeans today????

Y/N watches him as she takes off her shirt and starts playing with her breast. “You’re taking a bit long there? Don’t you think?” He looks at her with his mouth open in shock. 

“Fuck it.” He pulls one last time to get his pants off and fortunately it was a success. He walks on his knees as he approaches her kissing her one more time before dipping his tongue in the center of her chest. His hands playing with her nipples as he slips his tongue lower and lower until they reach her needy core.

“Harry.” She bites her lip as she thrusts her hips forward. He smirks as his lips attach themselves on her thighs, sucking on it and biting on each side. He wanted to leave a mark on her. He needed to.

“Fuck!” She moans as her fingers rest in his hair. 

“Tug on it, baby. Let me know you miss me.” He licks her centre greedily as he murmurs against her. He’s trying his best not to rub himself on her sheets but he missed her too much. Her centre was wet… too wet. His fingers were slipping in too easily as he fucked her like that. It almost was too much for her to handle as she sat up and pulled away.  “Are you okay?” He licks his fingers and holds on to her thighs. Was she starting to regret this? He needs her back. He wants her back. Why can’t she want the same thing?

“Lay down.” She pants as she moves over so he can lay on the pillows. He rests himself on his elbows as he watches her take him in her mouth. 

“Aw baby. Fuck I miss your mouth. You take me so well.” He watches her mouth wet his dick as his chest heaves up and down. His mind was clouded with her. Her only. He forgot everything else in the world as if he wasn’t abusing alcohol earlier this year. 

She gags on him as her hands play with his balls. He begins to thrust his hips forward before stopping almost immediately. “Can I fuck your mouth baby.” He groans as she looks at him innocently before nodding. His hand holds her hair into a makeshift ponytail as he thrusts his hips forward and harder. The sound of her choking makes him harder.

“Good girl.” He pulls off her and carries her to where he was laying beforehand. “Let me go get a condom.” He was about to get off the bed when Y/N holds onto his wrist. 

“I’m on birth control and if- you haven’t been with anyone for a while maybe we can…” His mouth waters as he leans down to kiss her. 

“I’ve been with only one other person and I’ve always used protection.” She couldn’t help but pout at him. Was he seeing someone else at the moment? What were they doing? She began to sit up as Harry shook his head. 

“No no, please. I’m not dating her or anything. I’ve only been having sex with her. I love you, please. I need you.”

“Can you not talk about her?” Y/N snaps as she drops her head on the pillow. He leans down to kiss her on the lips before moving his lips to her neck. 

“We’ll talk about her later but I’m telling you now -I want you so badly. I’ve been missing for a whole year now and I’ll drop everything for you.”

She closes her eyes as he bites on her earlobe. “Who said anything about me fucking her good? I have never eaten her out. Never left my marks on her. I never pulled her hair and choked her until she cried out of pleasure. Baby, that’s all for you and I’ll make sure after tonight, I’ll have you back in my arms.” He sucks on her nipples as he positions himself and thrusts in her. He takes a deep breath as she continues to close her eyes and scratch his back. He could feel her heart beating fast as he thrusts a bit harder.

“You okay bub?” He kisses her neck as she nods.

“You’re so big and I can fucking feel you in my stomach.” She laughs as she accidentally clenches her walls on him.

“Uh, babe.” He bites her shoulder. 

“Sorry, it’s been a while.” He smirks and licks a stripe of her neck. 

“Alright, whatever you say. You’re still as tight as I remember.” He smirks at her. “Pussy so good I was heartbroken when you left me.” Y/N rolls her eyes as he continues to thrust into her making her begin to moan louder. 

The night carried on as he fucked her and how she fucked him. They couldn’t get enough of each other. They were sure to leave a dent on her wall due to her bed frame bumping into the wall every so often. 

But as much as they laid in each other’s arms, they still had an outstanding problem of what they were now. and it wasn’t long until that problem said peek a boo once again.

~

Happy. Happy Harry was. It’ was just about Christmas and he had a gift in his hand as he walked the stairs towards Y/N’s apartment. Lately, he’s been spending time with her. It was as if those 8 months no longer meant a thing to him. H made sure to visit Y/N during work, drop her off and pick her up. He made sure to cuddle her to sleep and most importantly he called Eva the day after he and Y/N reconnected. He made sure to make things clear-that he no longer wanted to play games with her and that they were over. 

Although it made Y/N a bit jealous he was sleeping with a pretty girl when they broke up, Harry made sure to fuck the jealously right out of her so the only thing she could do now was to roll her eyes. She wasn’t mad at him just a bit insecure but Harry reassured her, he only began a fling with Eva in the beginning of November. It was never serious. 

“Merry Christmas.” He smiles gleefully as he flashes the small Cartier gift bag to her.

“Harry, that better not be for me.” Her eyes were in shock. He shakes his head and wraps his arm around her waist as he kisses her. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too but you shouldn’t give me that.” After meeting Harry’s family and finally started seeing him again, she was scared his family would still think of her as a gold digger. She didn’t want to talk about it with Harry. She was really hurt when she heard that. 

“I bought it for you.” He locks the door and takes her wrist as they sit on her couch once again. Y/N had no family members and she was planning on spending Christmas with Glenne and Jeff or maybe Jenna but now Harry is back. Harry had nowhere to go either since he’s been avoiding his family for the past year. Now they decided to just spend Christmas together and catch up.

“Here.” He gives her the bag as she opens it. It was their signature love bracelet with diamonds on each side. Y/N began to cry as she looked at the bracelet. 

“Harry…”

“I want you to have it.” He takes the bracelet and puts it on her. “You look so pretty.” He smiles cheekily at her as she wipes her tears away. 

“We were supposed to give our gifts later but you’re too excited.” She sits up and picks up a rectangular box underneath the tree. “Here’s yours.”

He kisses her and takes the gift in his hands. As he opens the gift wrapping paper, there were a bunch of papers folded and underneath was a brand new journal that looked exactly like the one resting on his piano. 

“Read those letters on your own time!” Y/N’s cheeks turn red. “I bought you a new journal after you desperately ripped papers out of your old one.” She laughs as she plays with her nails. “You need one of those and I thought maybe a new one for the new year. For new beginnings.”

“I love you!” He tucks the notes in his new journal as he leans forward to kiss her a bit more longer. “So much baby, so much. you know I’m not letting you go anymore right?” Y/N smiles as he kisses her nose and her cheeks.

“I love you more H. Now, I have one more request and I was hoping you would allow it to happen.”

“What is it bub?” She grabs his phone beside him and takes it in her hands. 

“I was wondering if we could call your family and greet them?” His heart softens as he looks at her. He nods at her without another word as she searches for Anne’s name. The ringing was the only thing heard until Anne’s voice picked up.

“Oh my God, my baby boy!” 

and at that moment as Harry watched Y/N smile as he spoke to his mother, he knew he found the one. Y/N wasn’t mad anymore about what happened in London. She wished that trip ended another way but she found the goodness in her heart to let Gemma and Anne’s comments go. She hated the fact that Harry stopped talking to them. She had no family anymore and she doesn’t want Harry to feel that way anymore.

As the call ended, Harry’s eyes were wet as he looked at his phone. He haven’t heard from his mum this past year. And Anne made it clear that she wants to visit them two and make peace with Y/N. Harry became in asshole when he broke up with Camille but for some reason, when he broke up with Y/N, he fell apart. The only thing that Harry was thinking about now was what Anne said to him in the call. 

Are you two dating again? You better ask her or she might slip through your fingertips again. She’s a beautiful girl, Harry. I’m sorry about what Gemma and I said. Bless her soul that she encouraged you to call me. I missed you baby, you’ll always be my son.

Harry’s heart was beating fast. This was the problem. He knew he could only spend a few weeks with before this question came up. He was scared to ask her. What happens if they break up again? What happens if she says no?

“What’s wrong H?” She brushes his hair out of his face. Throughout the 10 minute phone call, she sat there listening to them catch up. Harry offered the phone to her but she wanted the mother and child to talk.

“I’m scared uh you might say no but I have a question.” He puts his phone down and takes her hand. “I was wondering if you would be my girlfriend again. I promise you I’ll treat the best I can. I want to make you happy. I want to travel the world with you and just love you.” He squeezes her palm. 

“Alright.” She nods before flashing a sweet smile. “I’m your girlfriend again.” Harry’s eyes sparkle as he kisses her and picks her up. He swings her in his arms before carrying her back into her bedroom. 

The red string of fate connects two destined lovers together. Regardless of time, place or circumstances. This magical thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break.

Y/N was his soul mate because she made him the happiest he could ever be and the saddest too. Despite their relationship starting out once again… this time she was trying and they were both more serious about fighting for each other- they were more confident in their love. No one can break them apart this time… after all, it was a new year.

[butterflymar]

DAY 2: FAVORITE BL DRAMA

I have quite a few... I can’t choose just one so bare with me lol

Life Senjou No Bokura

Synopsis According to MyDramaList: One day after school, the serious Ito and the child-like Nishi meet by chance, as each endeavors to remain walking  on the sidewalk`s white line. As time goes by, Ito recognizes he is drawn to Nishi in a way that is new to him. Nishi, for his part, is frustrated that they only get to meet on the sidewalk. Ito decides to act upon his feelings and kisses a surprised Nishi, who agrees they need to walk side by side for a change. The sparks between them are undeniable as their relationship blossoms in high school, survives the college years, and matures into adulthood. A deeply moving work that bears witness to loving partners, whose unchanging feelings must co-exist within a world of changing realities.

My Personal Thoughts: I already wrote a review for this so I am going to re-share some of those thoughts here. This is one that I have watched countless times already. They went by the manga for mostly all of the episodes and I appreciated seeing that. They gave more context for certain details that may have been lost while reading the manga and translated it to screen. I think they depicted the age gaps well too. For 4 episodes only, I feel that they did a great job including the most important aspects. Actually now that I think of it, I would have loved to see more of them in their early 20s depicted on screen because that was like one of there honeymoon phases and I’m a hopeless romantic lol but that’s just a personal preference not complaining. Also, the show stopped at age 40 and they could have gone on throughout there entire lives but I understand why they chose not too. The manga is great as well!!! I think that the main actors depicted beautiful true love very well. They had amazing chemistry. Japanese BL’s have that special spark about them that I love. I also loved that it showed there relationship from high school till there later years. I don’t see that a lot with BL’s. They usually just stick to one time period. The aspect about them being connected by a line in relation to there love was a nice touch as well. I am glad that it has a happy ending as well. This is a pretty quick one to watch and a great one at that!!! If you haven’t watched it yet, I would highly recommend it!!!

I Told Sunset About You 

Synopsis According to MyDramaList: Teh and Oh-aew were best friends until a boyhood line of reasoning turned them into rivals. Years later as they're preparing for university admissions, both pursuing interests in the field of Communication Arts, the two meet in a Chinese language class. Their reunion awakens complicated and unstable feelings.

My Personal Thoughts: Same as above, I already wrote a review for this so I am going to re-share some of those thoughts here. This is DEFINITELY one of my top BL shows of the year 2020. This is such a beautiful masterpiece of a show!!! I remember when the preview trailer first came out… I was already hooked!!! I was on the lookout for it and it did not disappoint me one bit when it finally started. I looked forward to seeing it every week. It made me feel all of the emotions. I was up here sitting in my room crying over everything. I don’t think any other BL has made me this emotional before in my life. The two lead actors really DELIVERED!!! I could feel every single stare, every single body movement, and every single touch. You could cut the TENSION with a knife!!! No one couldn’t tell me that there wasn’t a magnetic true love between these two. I know this sounds cliche but it's like they were destined to be together from when they were childhood friends. Also, I would love to see them in future projects!!! The cinematography in this show is TOP FREAKIN NOTCH!!! Every single scene is just so beautifully shot. The cinematography alone makes me want to cry lol I saw somewhere that someone said the filming of the show reminded them of an indie film and I totally agree!!! The writing and directing on this show was impeccable to me!!! No cringy dialogue and every single line served its purpose well. This is movie grade writing. I also wanted to quickly just say that I loved the attention and callback to details throughout like with the tutoring book that Teh made for Oh-aew that was left empty by the end of episode 4, the flower that was supposed to be colored the same as Tan’s garment but Teh colored it red because he was thinking of Oh-aew, the rubbing of Oh-aew’s back when he sniffles, the references to Teh’s favorite actor, and the use of Chinese phrases to get meaning across. I could go on and on but wow I just loved how they really connected all of the details throughout. I can’t wait for Season 2!!!

Theory of Love

Synopsis According to MyDramaList: Third is a filmology major and a member of the Savage Team along with his best friends Two, Bone, and Khai, but he has a secret. Third has been secretly in love with Khai for years. For three years, he has kept his secret love in his heart, silently supporting and loving Khai while knowing there is absolutely no future between them since Khai is as straight as a streetlight pole and also an absolute player. To make matters worse, Khai has a "no dating friends" policy. How long can Third love Khai silently while watching Khai bring a different girl home every night? Third has tried to see Khai as just a friend. But has failed time and time again. Because as easy as it is to fall in love, to stop is just as hard.  Maybe even harder. That is until Third learns a secret that breaks his heart completely. But when Third decides to stop, Khai decides to start.

My Personal Thoughts: As sad as this show can make me feel at times, I love rewatching it. I still to this day think that it is one of the most well written BL’s that I have seen. Everything flows nicely and everything connects. Your not left wondering how you got from point A to point B. I thought the show had great character development especially when it came to Khai’s character towards the end of series. I know a lot of people had mixed feelings about his character due to how careless and dare I say stupid he acted at times but if he can make the audience hate him that much as a character... I would say he is doing something right!!! Gun’s acting never fails to amaze me!!! He really is one of the best actors I have seen. I know he had to be drained from all of that crying that he did throughout the show though lol It just goes to show that when you truly love someone you can’t just stop what you are feeling inside that easily no matter how the other person feels about you or treats you. As the old saying goes, love is blind. I also loved the friend group as well and Two and Bones side stories with the teacher and crush from school. They added to the shows greatness and didn’t take away from it. The friendship dynamics throughout the show was I feel something that really kept me engaged. The cast acted well together. There was no awkwardness or hesitation. I feel everyone bought there best for this drama. They incorporated the movie references so cleverly and I love how the title of each episode was the title of a real romance film. Just the overall theme of film was very intriguing to me. This drama left me filled with heartache and a rollercoaster of emotions but the ending is worth it!!!

HIStory3: Make Our Days Count

Synopsis According to MyDramaList: At first glance, high schoolers Xiang Hao Ting and Yu Xi Gu appear to be polar opposites: While Xiang Hao Ting is an outgoing, hot-headed extravert and some-time bully, Yu Xi Gu prefers to keep a low profile and focus on his schoolwork. They seem bound for totally different futures – the bookish Yu Xi Gu looks destined for academic success, while life is just a long popularity contest for Xiang Hao Ting. But a quirk of fate – and a crucial intervention by a female schoolmate – results in the two young men’s paths crossing. But there is more to both young men than first meets the eye. Xiang Hao Ting was not always this way. He started out as a perfect student until he discovered the joys of going off the rails. And Yu Xi Gu has a reason for being so aloof and studious: His parents died in a traffic accident while he was younger, and he is being fostered by his aunt. As such, he works hard to get good grades in an effort to win a scholarship and ease the financial burden on his relatives. Yu Xi Gu also works part-time at a convenience store, where his manager Liu Zhi Gang has developed a crush on a man he has met at the gym. Back at school, meanwhile, Yu Xi Gu and Xiang Hao Ting find themselves drawn together, and passions ignite. The former notices that he has the unique ability to bring Yu Xi Gu out of his shell – and becomes intent on melting his cold-as-ice exterior. What will happen when their two worlds collide? And can love be the catalyst that helps bring these two unlikely students together – as their high school days draw to a close?

My Personal Thoughts: I will stand by this notion for all of my days but this show is one of the best shows I have seen PERIOD!!! Not even best BL shows I have seen but just in general. It highkey saddens me that it is rated at an 8.1 right now on MyDramaList due to how it ended when other than that... it’s a top notch show. This was one that I watched as it was airing and I would get excited to see it every week. My clown self should have known by the title “Make Our Days Count” that some mess was about to occur but I didn’t pick up on it. Now, I just disregard the last episode (WE DON’T KNOW HER!!!). You can just tell that they had a great budget for this series. The production was on point. It had great cinematography, great storylines, and it felt realistic too. The main couples acting was OFF THE CHARTS AMAZING. I loved the whole opposites attract thing going on. Although the show was set in high school... it almost didn’t feel like it nor did it have those typical clichés going on. I liked how it dealt with topic of LGBTQ+ acceptance as well. I wasn’t so sure about the side couples relationship at first but I grew to love them as time went on. One last thing I wanted to point out was that even though I am always looking for a happy ending... I learned from this show that not everyone can get a happy ending. That’s not how life works sadly. In real life, there have been a lot of people who were truly in love and lost there partners tragically. Although it may be hard to accept the outcome, it is something that happens in real life. This is a drama that you appreciate even more as time goes on. It truly is a gem of a series!!!

TharnType

Synopsis According to MyDramaList: Type Thiwat is a handsome freshman with a passion for football and spicy food. Although he’s a friendly boy, he hates gay people because, in his childhood, he was molested by a man. His life turns upside down when the new academic year of college brings along a charismatic roommate, Tharn Kirigun. Tharn is a gorgeous, compassionate music major, who is also openly gay. When Type learns this, he is determined to make Tharn leave the dorm, as he won't live with a gay person. Tharn is equally determined not to give into Type's homophobic tantrums. With a gay guy and a homophobic guy that have to share a small space together for the rest of the year — what can possibly be the outcome of their story? Hatred? Or maybe love?

My Personal Thoughts: *Goes to hide in a corner* I know this drama is problematic and controversial as hell but it’s like a train wreck that you can’t turn  away from. What truly carries the show I feel is the chemistry between MewGulf. I don’t think I would have enjoyed the series as much if other actors were cast in those roles. They just exude confidence, passion, love, and lust. In terms of the storyline, I found it to be a chaotic occurrence of situations where I just had to know what was going to go on next. Everything that occurred had me intrigued for the next episode and so on and so forth. I loved Type’s character development. One quick thing I want to touch on was I know there were a lot of problematic things that happened which I will touch on at a later date but one thing I wish people were more understanding of was Type’s outbursts, thoughts, and feelings in certain situations. He was a victim of sexual assault so I felt the way he handled certain things was in response to what he had gone through as child and I think some viewers kind of missed that and were almost too harsh on him. Everyone processes and deals with trauma differently. This show went through so many twists and turns and I honestly lived for it especially the shocker towards the end of the series. I didn’t see that one coming at all!!! Despite all of its flaws, this show still holds a special place in my heart.

Honorable Mention:

Cherry Magic: As of today, this show has 4 episodes left and I think I am just going to come out and say that THIS IS MY FAVORITE BL OF THE YEAR!!! It’s a beautiful Japanese BL and I rewatch the old episodes while I wait for new ones to come out alot. It’s such a fluffy, heartwarming, and precious Bl series!!! I love it to pieces!!!

[league-of-thots]

Masks: A Soulmate AU

Pairing: Nejire x reader

Warnings: minor drugs/alcohol reference

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: the prompt for this discord collab was a sfw soulmate au

masterlist

You were 16 years old, like everyone else, when you opened the box that had appeared at the bottom of your bed. Inside, laying on golden straw, was the mask that the fates had given to you to help you find your destined partner.

The night before, you’d been so excited, tossing and turning all throughout the night, sleeping short bursts and then waking for a few minutes before inevitably passing back out again. The whole night you’d had weird dreams that were both surreal yet vivid in their detail, confusing and disorienting you. During the dreams you could only imagine chasing after this one swan who was always moving along from one thing to another. At one time, it was floating down a river but stopped to go see a dam on the other side of the river. You could only watch as it looked around, observing and carefully taking stock of the surroundings, before it was jolted into action seeing some small animals run by. It flew away and the dream shifted and soon enough you were running after it again…

Opening the box, you felt yourself shudder unconsciously, your heart felt warmer than it had just moments ago and you wondered if your partner had already received their mask or was waiting patiently just as you had been for the past few years. Wonder, curiosity and excitement were all warring for your attention as you looked onto the beautiful creation in front of you, it truly was a gift from the fates.

The mask was covered your forehead to just under your cheekbones, leaving perfectly shaped holes for your eyes to see. It was a beautiful platinum, looking silver-blue in the light of the morning streaming through your window. All across the bottom lining were alternating triangular holes and slightly above that were complicated swirling patterns. There were small white gems places at the ends of swirling branches, making them look as if they were pale roses growing out from vines.

You lightly ran your fingers over the smooth metal, the mask oddly light considering the amount of surface area it had. Along the top were feather designs stitched in, their shape matching those of the swan who you’d dreamt about.

You sat there for a few minutes, staring down at the mask and touching it almost reverently. Somewhere out there, was a perfect match for it, and with such a pretty mask, you knew they would be special, you could feel it in your bones. Soon you’d put it on, and wouldn’t be able to take it off until you found that partner meant for you. It both scared and excited you to know that one day you’d find them, and hoped desperately that the two of you would like each other and fall in love. Soulmates didn’t have to be romantic, but you were a bit of a sap, and having a partner destined for you? It would lift your heart up if they’d be your significant other.

You placed the mask on your face, and felt the mask magically adjust to your face, locking itself into place after a few slow minutes of adjustment. The metal was a nice cool touch to your face, and you closed your eyes feeling it slowly shift on your face. You wanted to remember how it felt, knowing that it would one day change your life. When it was done, you looked in the mirror to see the upper half of your face was fully covered up to your hairline, the only thing you could see were your eyes peeking out from behind it. Happy with the results, you giddily moved out of your room to go show everyone how cool your mask was.

 As you continued your journey through high school, you didn’t meet your soulmate unfortunately. Some of your friends did, both in and out of school, but they were the minority. It was after all, very unlikely to meet your soulmate before the age of 24. You were happy for them, but at the same time, couldn’t wait to find your partner. You were reminded again that not every one was destined to be lovers though, unfortunately one of your best friends had met their soulmate and he wasn’t romantically interested in him.

You remember consoling her, distraught as she was, and reminding yourself that this was why you tried to keep your hopes low, you don’t know what role your soulmate is going to take in your life. You were there by her side though, and as she worked through her own dashed hopes and feelings, the two of them had one of the strongest friendships you’d ever seen in your life. It was beautiful, and honestly made you a bit jealous. You were impatient, you wanted to have your soulmate in your life now, even though you knew deep down that they’d be worth waiting for.

Something that you’d be able to partake in when you turned 18, because you hadn’t yet found your soulmate, were the extravagant galas. They were held both publicly and privately by benefactors for people who hadn’t yet met their soulmates. They were always wild times, held in busy city halls, or in fields with beautiful sunsets. Each of them was full with magic and everything slightly distorted by the number of soulmates meeting up and finally getting to share their lives together. They were also full of practiced wizards creating entertainment of both amusing and wacky feats, which made the parties highly attended no matter the age or personal status.

There were only a few rules of the parties; that you always had to be dressed in masquerade attire that matched with your mask, and even if you found your soulmate at the parties, you couldn’t remove your masks until after the party was done.

These parties were often held a few times a month, so that those with busy schedules could still get the chance to go out and try to meet their soulmates. Although part of you wanted to go to one of these galas the moment you turned 18, you didn’t really get the chance until a few months after your birthday.

You remember vividly from that night many things, the wizard in the lovely velvet top hat who was creating life sized characters out of smoke to do battle with one another, the giant ice sculptures that seemed to change shape every time you looked away, the creatures that normally avoided humans coming to watch, seeing what was happening and making deals with the foolish ones. You felt the entire night as if you were in a daze, and you probably were with the fumes from many different things clouding up your mind just slightly so that the entire night was just slightly hazy and tinged with a surreal quality. Were you really sure that you’d seen those flash of fangs from the tall dark man with the dreadlocks? You couldn’t be sure.

All in all, you’d enjoyed your night plenty, met some great people and seen interesting things. Alas, you were no closer to finding your soulmate than before. You decided that you’d go to one of these galas every month or two, just to see if by chance, you’d happen upon them one time. For a few months during the summer, you’d had no such luck, going and enjoying yourself with only a few new friends to show for it and a much greater understanding of magic and its limits. You’d decided as you went into university to pursue some discipline that would allow you to combine your other interests with your newfound interest in magic.

Life continued that way for a couple years, school, a part time job, friends, galas, and visiting new places when you could to see if maybe in one of those random places, you’d finally happen upon one of them. First year had kicked your ass, but you’d gotten through it with some help from your friends, and even though second year had been tough as well, you’d gotten the hang of it quite well. Something that made you feel marginally better about your lack of success, was that you weren’t the only one who was still stuck with their mask attached to their face. It was actually pretty even set still, the people with masks and without, despite everyone around you being an older age than you were when you first got your mask.

Every once and a while though, you’d dream of the gorgeous swan again, although the dream was never the same as any of the ones that would happen before. Sometimes you were chasing it through the outdoors, whether that be through a forest, a cave or a city, or if you were following it through places you knew like the back of your hand. Every time you’d have one of these dreams, you’d feel melancholy for a few days afterwards, your mind always feeling foggy and unbalanced.

Since it had been a longstanding occurrence, after consulting some friends, you decided to visit a woman in your university that specialized in dream studies and soul connections. Their office hours were online and they actually encouraged people with reoccurring dreams and those with what people thought were atypical soul connections. You were excited and ready to see if you could learn something to help you find your soulmate with their help.

So, the next day you had class, you went ahead of your schedule by an hour to the campus, wanting to drop in to their office as soon as you could. It was in a secluded area of the university, quiet and peaceful, you felt yourself grow more relaxed as you entered the hallway where their office was. Your breath was slightly taken away as you realized it was located on the inside of the greenhouse. There were gorgeous flowers and ivy growing up the walls of the greenhouse and flowers of all colours covering most of the available garden space. There was a flowing artificial river, which beside them were benches and small tables for games. Around the entire room where floating orbs of colour lighting up the garden many shades from different locations. There were also bird feeders and other decorations floating merrily in places.

You approached the door that was between the two trees, looking at the nameplate to read Professor Nirone, the person who you looked up on the weekend. Hyping yourself up a little bit, you steadied your nerves and gave three sharp knocks on the door and stepped back

“Come in!” came a reedy voice from inside, mid-toned and rather sleepy.

You turn the knob and open the door which creaks a little. Inside is a rather homey looking office, one that is well lit with natural light, and has a few chairs by a crackling fireplace. The rugs were worn with intricate designs, and the Professor behind the desk was a cheery person, slender and wearing spectacles.

“Hello Professor Nirone? I’m Y/N, I saw that you had open hours for people who had questions about dreams and strange soul connections?”

“Yes, yes of course!” they say excitedly, standing up from behind the desk to go and shake your hand. “My office is always open to students and faculty!” They have a firm handshake and they guide you to sit down with them at the fireplace. “Would you like some tea? I have a pot of earl grey on right now.”

“Yes please!” and they grab it for the two of you, pouring out two cups. One of them was a bright blue and the other was an orange. They hand you the orange cup.

“How can I help you then?” they ask once you’ve both settled down.

“Well, Professor, I came to you because I was curious about some dreams that I think are connected to my soulmate. I’m really unsure of what they mean though, and I could use some guidance on understanding them.”

“Then you came to the right place! Please, when did they start and what were they about that you believe mean they’re connected to your soulmate.”

“Ah, it started the night before I received my mask on my sixteenth birthday, and they weren’t reoccurring dreams per say, more that they had similar elements and feelings attached with them.” You begin. “I’ve had them every few months or so since then.”

They nod. “That’s a common occurrence within soulmates, often times they will get dreams about something that really shows the essence of their partner. Although usually they change a bit over the years depending on your partner’s life journey.”

“Yes, well the reason I’m confused is because the object of the dream is always the same no matter the setting. Sometimes I know the setting, sometimes I don’t, but I’m always following this swan no matter what. I get this sense of familiarity and happiness, but I never catch up to it no matter what.”

“You have an interesting story, my dear. Let me ask you, what is the swan doing while you’re following after it? If it does, does it depend on the setting or is it always repeating actions?”

“Well, I guess the swan kind of does a pattern of things, it looks around, observes things for a time until it gets distracted and moves to look at that new thing or event. It kind of spends as much time as it wants observing something? But the swan is always out of my reach. So is there anything you could tell me about that?”

“Well, let me get some materials out and show you a few things. There might be some answers that we can see fitting for you.” They go back over to their desk, looking through some file folders and grabbing a few sheets. Leafing through, they start speaking again, and you listen up.

“When there’s a reoccurring pattern within a soulmate dream there are a few ways to interpret that. One, that something in the dream is talking about how to find one another and giving insight into the fated meeting, or two, that the dream is giving you insight about the nature of your partner.”

“So, I might not even get to meet them? There are no repeated meeting spots or anything, which means its all about their nature…”

“Maybe, however I like to think that there’s a good chance for meeting your soulmate when you have this many soul dreams so close together. Don’t give up faith so quickly.”

“I’ll try my best, thank you for the help Professor.” You continue to chat with them for a little while, finishing your tea and feeling much better about your current situation. The whole meeting had gone better than you had hoped it would.

 The next gala was two nights away from today, and you were excited, because for some reason, you had a good feeling about this one. You felt emboldened by the words of the Professor, and kept faith that you’d get to meet this soulmate that seemed to have an endless sense of curiosity and wonder with the world around them. You feel like they’d definitely attend the soulmate galas, there was always so many interesting things taking place in and around them. Especially in the warmer months when the parties would seep outside, and they would become an entire community event.

You tried to get through the next few days as quickly as you possibly could, breezing through your lessons, homework and job as you looked forwards in excitement. Finally, the day arrived. This gala would be held by the community center in your city, and you were hoping to see which magicians would be there this year.

You dressed in your formal attire, taking care to make sure that your mask was clean and gleaming, and making sure your hair is all in place. You want to make a good impression if you meet them today after all. Grabbing your phone, you head down to the subway station near your house to get to the gala. The station was busy, as expected, and you got jostled around a fair bit. The closer you got to the community center however, the more outlandish the people and decorations became.

This was your favourite part, seeing everything morph from normal to fantastical, colours streaming everywhere, smoke creating shapes as people try and awe one another with their skills. You swear you see a couple of centaurs running through the crowd, causing chaos and laughing boisterously. The subway has to stop a few stops early due to the congestion of the inner core of the party. You don’t mind the walk, because you get to pass by little vendors who’ve set up shop, selling pretty wares and drinks and food.

You stop at a little man’s shop a few buildings down from the community center, purchasing a small drink to help you relax. It’s a potion with a light sedative meant for calming the mind and enjoying the party.

You sipped it as you finally reached the steps, there were people of all types, some with masks, some without, all decorating the surrounding area. You could hear music streaming from the inside as people and lights and colours streamed in and out without any discernable pattern. You let the sensations wash over you, feeling yourself relax despite the amount of people and excitement around you.

You wander in, eyes greedily taking sight of anything and everything you can. No matter how many times you go to these events, you’ll never get enough of the sights, you’re pretty sure that you’re going to attend many a gala after you find your soulmate.

You glide up the staircase, watching a couple blow bubbles into balloon animals to entertain a small group of younger high school students, this is likely their first event. You recognize the wonder in their eyes.

Inside the community center is a hall, within it, both couples and newly met soulmates dance a sweet waltz, the mayor seated above them on a balcony on a grandiose chair watching down on them happily. His soulmate sits beside them and they both have donned their masks for the special occasion.

You get swept up between the dancers, overwhelmed in a good way as you giggle and move along with the flow, putting your arms up and doing half the steps on your own. You twirl around, feeling your clothes swish around you, as colours spin around the room in a dizzying array of beauty.

Getting lost like this is your favourite.

But there was something different this time, there! Out of the corner of your eye! You caught a dress the colour of your mask, but they were running after something the other way. You immediately drop your arms, the dance forgotten as you dodge and weave between the people. You’ve seen the colour of your mask every time that you’ve looked in the mirror, and haven’t seen it on anyone else’s clothes. But that woman’s dress, it matched, you knew it did.

So, you followed, as quickly as you could in your stuffy fancy clothes and shoes. From what you could see, she had long light blue hair, which looked sleek in the candle lighting. She was moving quickly, faster than anyone you’d seen in heels, as she seemed to take in everything around her.

Suddenly, you lose sight of her as she stops and stares at something then dashes off. You get to where you last saw her, and looked around carefully, trying to get any hint of which way she might’ve gone.

You see nothing. You’ve completely lost her.

You tried to fight down the disappointment that was threatening to overcome you. So close, but you didn’t even get to reach her, you couldn’t speak with her at all! It felt like the universe was keeping them away from you on purpose or something. It made you feel bitter and upset, but if you saw her here, you figured she must be around in the area. It would be tough, but you knew you had to try and hold out hope that you’d find her once again. Maybe she’d even be around for the next local gala, and you could perhaps find her there?

The next few days were difficult for you, but you tried to keep your mindset as positive as you could, despite the massive amounts of disappointment you felt from the party. Nothing else happened that night, even though you kept your eye out for her in case she was still wandering around. For the first time, you left a gala with a disheartened feeling completely choking your chest, tears leaking from your eyes. You’d been so close.

The greenhouse you had found looking for Professor Nerone became a bit of a salvation for you, it was far out of the way, so you didn’t have to see a bunch of people happy with their soulmates, but also was a calming place with a beautiful scenery. Plus, with the tables and benches, you could catch up on work in comfort and solitude.

This carried on for about a week, you felt depressed no matter how many times you told yourself that you’d lasted this long without your soulmate, so you were being a bit ridiculous.

It’s just that before then, you hadn’t seen her.

“Hey, hey, don’t you know? This place is really far from all of the main classes. What are you doing here, if I could bother you a little bit?” A voice interrupted your wallowing. Her voice was cheery and wistful, with a curious lilt to it. You’d never heard such a sweet voice before in all honesty.

“Oh, I’m just here doing some work-“ You brought your eyes up to meet hers, and you gasped in shock as your eyes met hers. “It’s you!”

“Oh my, well isn’t this a surprise!” she smiles. You feel the mask that had been moulded to your face for the past six years just let go and drop into your lap. Hers falls off as well and she catches it, eyes crinkled at the corners from how wide she’s smiling. “I’m Hado Nejire! It’s nice to meet you soulmate.” She gives you a cheeky wink.

The few weeks of getting to know Hado were something interesting to say the least, she was by far one of the most inquisitive and entertaining people you’ve met. Often times asking people questions that had your mouth gaping in shock, because that’s not the societal norm to do that. You could tell she never meant any harm though; she just had an insatiable appetite for knowledge and understanding.

She was also open with her affections with you, after getting signs that you were alright with her touching you, she’d often hold your hand when you walked places, swinging it around as she told you about all the cool things she’d seen the other day. She also gave some of the best hugs, and was probably the coolest person you’d ever met.

You’d also learned that people didn’t exaggerate the soulmate bond. Never before had you clicked with someone so easily, and you didn’t ever really feel uncomfortable around her. She made you feel more confident and opened your mind up with all of her interesting discoveries and off topic information.

“Hey, hey, Y/N? Can I ask you a question?” she asks as you’re both hanging out, doing your different sets of homework in her apartment she shared with two friends; Mirio and Tamaki.

“Of course,” you responded, a little amused at her need to always ask in that little way she had. It was endearing to you.

“What did you hope for me to be?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was curious as to what you wanted from your soulmate before you knew who I was.”

“Hado, why is that important? I have you and that’s what matters.”

“Hmm… I suppose so. It’s just I wanted to know if we were in a similar boat, so to speak.” She taps her chin her eyes focused on something you couldn’t quite see. In the few weeks you’d known her, you noticed that this was a frequent occurrence, she seemed to be in another world sometimes, connecting things all around her.

You loved it, you felt like you loved her. But you didn’t know if she felt the same, and you think it would break you if she didn’t feel the same way.

You felt more sympathy for your old friend then you ever had in your life. Losing something once it was presented in front of you was so much more difficult than you’d thought in the moment. You knew you wouldn’t lose Hado, she wasn’t as shallow as to cut you out of her life for liking her in a different way she did. It was more the fact that you know you would likely lose the possibility of finding a deep soul connection with a romantic partner. It wasn’t unheard of, but very rare, for anyone to establish a bond as deep as the ones with their soulmates.

You wanted to be with Hado in every sense of the word, she made you better, and you like to think that you made her better too. The world seemed a bit more mystical with her in your life, and you wanted to have that in all aspects of your life. You knew it was a bit selfish, but you would back off completely if that’s not what she wanted from you.

Hado shakes you out of your thoughts, “I suppose I should tell you, because I do trust you, Y/N, I really do. I just don’t want you to look at me differently, you know?”

You put your hand on hers, your heartbeat elevated as you look into her eyes. What did she mean? All you could do was tell her the truth.

“Hado, I would never look at you different because of what you hoped that I could be for you. All I hope is that I’m enough for you.”

She grasps you in a hug after that. “Of course you’re enough for me Y/N! You’ve made my life better! It’s just, you know how much I seem to get lost in another world, when I was a kid I used to imagine being with my soulmate.”

“I did too,” you admit, shyly locking eyes. “I imagined meeting them and falling in love, going out on dates, marrying them.” Her eyes were sparkling as you spoke, listening raptly to you.

“I did the same!” you felt immensely relieved at hearing that.

“Well, Hado, I think part of that’s already happened with you if I’m being honest with myself.”

“Y/N, it’s alright, I’m falling for you too!” your mouth falls open in shock and she laughs at the face you’re making.

“Hey, hey Y/N? Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You respond and she leans in and presses her lips to yours sweetly.

You really were lucky to have a soulmate as good as Hado Nejire.

[sourwolfstories]

Hey! Can you rec some sterek soulmate! Fics pls? Thank you so much

Marked by Verya

The name of a person’s soulmate appears on their skin, in that person’s handwriting, at the age of twenty. Derek has been wondering for the past several years, what kind of name is Mieczyslaw?

Body Language by LadyMerlin

In an alternate universe, soulmates exist, and they can communicate with each other by writing on their own skin.

The catch? No one knows their soulmates’ name. It could literally be anyone under the sun, and Stiles just doesn’t have that kind of patience.

Ink Me by AsagiStilinski

Derek is never going to find his soulmate, because there’s no way in hell there exists a man named Mieczyslaw in Beacon Hills

Then Erica hires Stiles

Beat by Kalira

Derek’s heartsong isn’t quite normal, but he’s always loved the drumming beat that winds through his dreams. He didn’t expect to find that its origin, his other half, has been waiting right in front of him.

Accidents Happen by pyrrhical (anoyo)

Settling a soul bond was exactly as romantic as the movies made it seem: a simple kiss.

As it so happened, CPR worked, too.

Fate Thinks It’s Funny by AsagiStilinski

In a world where everyone has their soulmate’s first words to them printed on their wrists, Derek and Stiles end up with some of the worst: “Oh God please help” and “Derek” respectively

To be fair, their first meeting is almost as ridiculous as it sounds like it would be

Take My Mind, Take My Pain by LessonsFromMoths

Soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do.Stiles was born with a very visible black palm on his cheek.

Three Marks by sanam

“And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off—And suddenly it was done.Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt.”

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

In Name Only by Cobrilee

In a world where no one finds out who their soulmate is until after they get married, Stiles concocts the perfect scheme: marry his long-time client, Derek Hale…

You know. Just to find out who he should be marrying.

There’s no way this could go wrong.

Yeah, Pass The Salt, Stiles by CallieB

Yeah, pass the salt, Stiles.

They’re not particularly inspiring words. Not like the long stream of goo spilling over Scotty’s arm. But somewhere, Stiles’ soulmate is out there, waiting to say them to him.

If only he could stop thinking about the mysterious hot stranger he met in the woods.

A Second Chance at First Impressions by Cobrilee

Derek grew up with the world’s most embarrassing soulmark, which is honestly not the best first impression his soulmate could make. Then he meets the guy, and all of a sudden the soulmark doesn’t matter quite so much after all.

spice up your life! by callunavulgari

“I said,” the girl drawls, setting her elbow down in a saucer of ketchup and grimacing. “That this whole soulmate thing is fucking stupid. You’re supposed to find someone based off of the music they’re listening to? How would you even know what was really stuck in your head and what was in theirs? It’s complete shit.”

Derek, who has had everything from Dancing Queen to the Barney theme song stuck in his head all night, winces, and says abruptly, “I think my soulmate is in middle school.”

Secondhand Soulmate by AnnoyinglyCute, Inell

Not always, not even most of the time, but sometimes – 24% of the time, statistically speaking – people meet their soulmates and live happily ever after.

THIS isn’t that story.

This is the story of Stiles Stilinski, whose soulmate died before he was born. This is the story of all the sorrows and heartache Stiles experienced, all the bullying and oppression from those who should know better but didn’t. This is also the story of the friendships Stiles made along the way, of the battles he fought – and won – and the love that endured through it all.

I Was Present While You Were Unconscious by CharWright5

Stiles had often thought about how he’d meet his soul mate, the literal muscular man of his dreams. He just didn’t ever imagine finding him on Facebook where a friend had shared a news article about a werewolf John Doe in a coma after a car wreck four hours out of town. And he also didn’t expect to bond and fall in love with the guy’s family before ever saying two words to him out loud.

Written in the Stars by Quixoticity

Derek Hale is a lucky guy. He’s got a great family, good friends, and a fulfilling job as a tattoo artist.

He’s also one of the twenty-five per cent of the population born with a soul mark.

He likes his life, but he’s waiting for his soul-match. The odds of meeting them aren’t great but hey, Derek’s a lucky guy. He has faith.

He can’t believe how good his luck really is when one day his soul-match wanders right into his studio, all long limbs and copper eyes. There’s just one problem: Stiles is there to get his soul mark covered up. Permanently.

94%, Dude by eeyore9990

The guy was really too young for the leather daddy aesthetic, but with the leather and the more-beard-than stubble and the eyebrows… Yeah, he was kinda working the hot grumpy leather daddy biker gang leader look.

And Stiles liked it.

***

For the prompt: Sterek soul mark fic wherein marks never match, they just line up perfectly to be a shape.

Marks and Mics by DLanaDHZ

Hale siblings Derek and Laura have been hired to run security for Stiles Stilinski’s music tour. Business as usual, except someone is trying really hard to prove they’re incapable and hurt Stiles. Derek finds himself curious about Stiles’ bitter attitude and a strange illness that plagues the singer. And on top of that, Derek’s soulmate remains elusive.

Worth Waiting For by yodasyoyo

Stiles slumps further in his desk chair, and stares disconsolately out of his bedroom window. Perhaps he should be celebrating. After all, this afternoon a soulmark appeared on his wrist revealing the name of his soulmate.

He has a soulmate.

Fuck. He scrubs one hand across his face.

This is a disaster.

Covered in Fur and (Your) Words by OverMyFreckledBody

People that said that the words on your skin - the first ones from your soulmate - didn’t matter or affect your life were big fat liars. Stiles is one hundred percent sure he wouldn’t have started creating costumes if it weren’t for the words What the hell kind of costume is that? on his arm. He’s also sure that if he never got into the hobby, he would never have met the man who said them.

Model Material by dobrien

Prompt: Soulmates AU where any tattoos one half of the soulmate pairing get show up on the other person’s body. Can be taken in any direction the author wants but no suicide etc.Model/Soulmate AU: Stiles finds out who his soulmate is and he’s willing to do what it takes to meet them, even if that means becoming a model for Alpha Fashion Magazine.

The Possibility of Silence and the Reality of Sound by crossroadswrite

Derek grew up knowing that soulmates are something to be cherished, so when he got a voice in his head, childish thoughts and flashes of color and objects, he’d excitedly jumped on his mother’s bed to tell her. She had smiled, ruffled his hair and told him how she was proud of him, even though Derek hadn’t really done anything.

I’m Lost In You by matildajones

He knows he should move but a part of him still feels paralyzed. He has clear feelings of not being able to move his body, of not being able to even blink.

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, and he clambers to his feet, feeling dizzy. He easily finds a mirror in the room and then the most gorgeous eyes stare back at him. They’re a sea-green instead of the normal brown that he’s used to.

He’s looking at his soulmate.

–

Stiles wakes up in his soulmate’s body, on his twenty-second birthday, with blurry memories of the past year. Derek doesn’t wake up at all.

There’s a cup with his name on it by hellodickspeight

The sight before him is breathtaking. Wide opened whiskey eyes searching above his head, pink lips slightly parted, tongue wetting them as he considers his choice, messy brown hair sticking in every direction, moles dotting a pale skin, Derek can’t wait to ask for his name.

A soulmate AU where people have the first name of their soulmates written on their body.

Of Soulmates, Pseudonyms and Misunderstandings by halcyon1993

Ever since he asked his mother one evening why she had his dad’s name tattooed on the inside of her left wrist, Derek has dreamed of finding his soulmate. There’s only one problem—the name that appears on his wrist on his eighteenth birthday is something he can’t even read.

Soul-Mark by PaigeRhiann

His wolf purrs happily because it has taken eighteen years and getting his family killed to finally discover the name of his promised. The person he’s destined to be with. Or, as Werewolves call it – Mate.

“Genim S.” He repeats

“That’s a really fucking weird name” Laura snorts, turning back to the movie.

“Yeah, it is” he nods.

Connected by readridinghood

After the death of his wife, Stiles finds himself left alone with their three children, struggling to keep from being sucked into a void of grief and despair that her death left him with. Knowing his children are safe in the pack’s arms under Derek’s watchful eyes, he struggles to regain his footing. What do you do when the world keeps tumbling over you and what you’ve thought of as fact no longer holds true? As the world comes back into focus, so does the love for Derek he thought he’d long since conquered and now with his eyes open, what he thought was the end of him, is only a new beginning.A decade after he fell in love with Stiles, countless days of keeping himself restrained while building a friendship with him, Derek finds out with absolute certainty that Stiles is his mate. You only mate once in your life, so how is it that Stiles was mated to Sophia, his wife and mother of his three children, the woman he is grieving the loss of at the same moment that Derek makes his discovery.

An Unpredictable Amount of Turtles by skoosiepants

Stiles says, “I have a five year plan. A five year plan to popularity that will tank the minute I meet this guy.”

“I feel like you’re exaggerating,” Scott says, but Scott has a katana-wielding badass waiting for him at the other end of the rainbow, and Stiles has terrariums.

Or—

A soulmate au with turtles and angst.

Soul McMates by distortedreality

The black script magically inked onto Stiles’ skin at birth declares that the first thing he’ll say to his soulmate is “welcome to McDonalds, how may I help you”.

Stiles’ life was clearly destined to be a fucking joke from the start.

Who’s the Loser Now? by Scavenger

Stiles just expects to run and swim, hopefully come at least third place, and then go home. The universe has other plans.

To Leave A Mark by Fanfiction_is_Literature

Stiles Stilinski was born with a strange mark on his skin that resembled a paw print. No one thought much about it since birthmarks weren’t rare, but Stiles started to notice it change as he got older.

Derek Hale was a rare werewolf: the kind with a soulmark on his skin. But as tragedy struck both him and his mate, his interest dwindled in finding him or her. That is, until he started to notice similar changes from his mark in a certain teenaged boy with an alarming amount of moles.

Or: The Soulmate AU where soulmates are rare and get tattoo-looking marks on their skins that describe their mate.

Sparks (Your Touch) by stilesanderek (minxxx)

Stiles has always dreamed of imprinting. Of touching someone for the first time and feeling his world changing right then and there. Of knowing that that person would love you and be with you until the day you die. And yet nothing could have prepared him for with whom he finally imprints.

Or in which when Stiles gets promoted to detective, he gets a new partner, Laura Hale, with whom he instantly becomes best friend and who he thinks is the most perfect person to step into his life, the only problem being that her brother Derek hates his guts.

Countdown by actingup

0000d 00h 00m 37s

He always imagined meeting his soul mate would take forever; that time would slow down and he would see them walking towards him, he would know without a doubt who it was. It might have been someone he’s seen before but never talked to, or it might be a complete stranger that he never would have guessed. He didn’t imagine it in front of about a hundred people, maybe two-hundred, at a Dolphin show.

soulmates tbh by bleep0bleep

“It’s been five months,” Derek says darkly. “Why am I still getting these proposals? You know these are probably all fake marks.”

Five months since the paparazzi had snapped that photo of him with the overzealous fan tugging at his shirt, five months since millions of people on the Internet realized that the birthmark revealed was in fact, the mark, five months Derek was inundated by claims from people who desperately wanted him to believe that they were his soul-mate.

Soulseeker by alisvolatpropiis

Sighing, Stiles reaches for Derek’s big hands, cradled in his broad lap, his skin lighting up even more at Derek’s touch. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, preparing himself to look for Derek’s soulmate. Whoever you are, he thinks, you better be worth him.

[thequillswhims]

One to Three

It's borderline funny how hope can be the most treacherous backstabbing two faced traitor out there, the most pristine snake slithering in the quaintest of dainty garments, hiding it's face behind a richly adorned fan, eyes locked on you, whispering seductively about promises to come, unbound and unlimited happiness, and when you halt on the road of your life to land an ear to the siren's whimsically entrapping song, you allow your heart to dream and escape in the blinding mists, let hope take you on it's wings and wrap itself around you, coiling it's body around your heart and eyes, and then, when you are perfectly content, and happy, your little heart like a spring lovebird elated with the poison that hope had lovingly nurtured you with, the snake retracts from blinding your sight and you see and the snake's fangs are already sharply planted deep within your heart, biting and claiming every ounce of your delusions, drenching your heart with it's suave fatal poison.

And as much as I would love to blame the other, and Fate and Life and the Universe, I think it's simpler and overall easier, if not straight up lazier with a sense of escapist mentality, to just take one of the team, team being me myself and I, and conclude that: I misread silly casual flirtation, I overblown something that wasn't really there, I ... I was wrong. I got caught up in my feelings, for they themselves, if I treat them like an exterior force to my rational self, were, out of the Wahoo exceptionally crazy strong in intensity, but that does not automatically equate to the other party feeling the same things, or assessing, if he had felt the same, the same way I had. The intensity of my own feelings were not an assured guarantee, an official formal contract binding my heart to his, in any capacity. My feelings were mine and that is all that it was. After all, each individual has their own proper right to feel and understand, assess and react to feelings as goddamn well as they please. That is the core beauty of the human species, at the end of the day. Every single individual has their own selfish right to experience the same banal experience in their own secluded divine right; intense, or dismissed. No one has the right to judge for interpretation. And, although it could have - would have - been potentially nice to board the ship together, sometimes, it's best to miss the boat and take a plane, or a train, or a bus, to another, far far away destination.

Although, the fall from heavens was one of the most excruciatingly brutal ones I had encountered in my existence, I believe that it was actually, a blessing in disguise.

In the spring of this fateful unnamed year, although, I will give it a label, so then, in the fateful spring of X19, he shared a photo on one of his social media accounts; pink lily with a view of a rustic wooden bridge leaping over a small pond in the background. The caption called out for celebrating the hope of something going either spectacularly well, sealing happiness on the long term, or catastrophically wrong, because he was such an optimist. My heart leaped and bound in my chest when I saw this and falsely assumed it was in regards to me. I was a devout pink color and flowers enthusiast; my own social media - the one where this was posted - being majorly constituted of flowers, nature, butterflies and other artistically invasive macro shots of the smaller wonders of nature. Hope is indeed a beautiful silk wearing sharp sword. Assuming that a potential love message was destined for me, solely based off a few flirty interactions, however honest and genuine from my end did not in any way shape or form requested similar authenticity from his end, and I am the only one at fault for having ever believed we had that shared intent towards each other. I was the first to congratulate him on that. Because it's who I am. Even if I had a lingering doubt in the back of my mind, which I unceremoniously hushed and tried to silence. I wanted my happy hopeful dream of eternal bliss and happiness.

But ... nothing happened, for the most of the spring and summer. Flirtation continued, cordial, adorable, silly, fun, light hearted. Burning with passionate fire on my end; calm, cool and collected on his. I should have seen the red flags. But I willfully ignored them.

Came summer and came another wild hope. Maybe he would reveal the recipient of the pink lily at my birthday and make a grand gesture. My heart throbbed and swooned at the hope of it.

And my heart crashed and burned, and broke, and shattered. Although, I will give him credit, he did wait three days after my birthday, so as to not inflict salt and vinegar on the wound he knew he was surely inflicting. The stabbing felt ... actually it felt truly spectacularly painful, given it was a one side fling all along and he had zero obligation to return my sentiments and favors, attachment and dedication and all the lovely sappy romantic feelings I had poured into the hope of potentially one day "us". It was a sharp, barely bearable sting or pinch, like a fire heated sword plunged in the chest, straight through the heart and poking back out, with the distinctive burn and sharp pain through the soul. it's funny though, two years later, as I sit down and memorize this mess, I now only vaguely remember the pain. I remember being there, sitting with a friend, chatting over coffee and cake; my phone lit up with a notification, and curious, because I had recognized his name within a fraction of a glance, I swiped to see what the hubbub was about. And my heart sank and shattered. My friend told me I became livid, as if all life had been rightfully drained from my body from some unseen demonic entity. My hand trembled a little. My mouth was dry. My whole body, apparently was closer in appearance to that of a corpse than a living woman. The happiness, the carefree that had enveloped my friend and had been stripped, ripped right out of a two meter if not more, range and only a sense of heavy cold dread was now upon us. I instantly felt sorry for my friend, to have him dragged in a mess in which he did not belong. With a shaky hand, I rotated my phone and slid it in his direction so that he could see. He slurped his large coke, expecting anything but what was under his eyes, and with his knowledge and appreciation of my situation and feelings, I felt bad and responsible when I heard him, like a distant echo, choking on his beverage, take another sip to calm the irritation down.

I felt a complete fool and a renowned idiot. Pieces of a puzzle t thumped gracefully into one another. Privileged Lady. False Person. The Devil. Three of Cups. Three of Pentacles. The Moon. His thoughts. The Snake. The Cat. It all made sense. Hope had blinded me but now I was seeing clearly. Repeating patterns across various cartomancy and divination systems all told me the same thing. They all tried to warn me and I consciously and foolishly discarded them with a superior hand gesture; you are all wrong. Let me have this. Please. Please be wrong.

And then came September. The Thirteenth of the month, as an odd redemption ark.

[blushoseoks]

GREY AREA. (M) | 08

And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.

"There are all kinds of addicts. I guess. We all have pain. And we all look for ways to make the pain go away. - Sherman Alexie, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

→  Pairing: Yoongi/Reader →  Word Count: 6,867 →  Genre/Warnings: Soulmate AU, Angst, →   Chapter Index

Park Jimin's arms tangle around the woman you do not recognize. Hands wrapping around her waist, as she is then tugged further into Jimin's embrace, and when their lips connect, a sudden pain illuminates through your body so brightly it rivals the affects of Min Yoongi's gaze.

The pain is like a knife starting at the tip of your heart and slicing through. And it's not in one quick semi-painless sort of way, either. It's a slice that is poorly executed, that is off to a rough start. You can almost feel every sharped raggedy edge as it tears your heart in half.

The luminous effects causes you to move a hand to settle over the place where your heart resides, because witnessing what you are, it's the only thing that can reassure you that it is, in fact, still in tact. Still beating. Still pulsating blood. Still keeping you alive.

When the pain subsides, which is in a matter of a few silent moments, excluding Yoona's questions in form of your name being repeated, concern increasing with every word, and the way her hand comes to press against your shoulder, the only thing that slowly fills your body is a mixture of intense anger and perhaps a slither of utter and excruciating disappointment.; the anger, however, is an irateness so deep you feel it ignite your bones.

And it's in that moment, when their lips stay locked, and their limbs only become more entangled do you recall Namjoon's words from earlier.

He had stated that when he fell from the tree at the age of thirteen, that on his way down, time seemed to still. Things seemed to move in a dilatory motion, as what he thought at the time, was his world ending, occurred.

And things for you, seemed to slow right then. Seemed to come to a stand still, because it felt like your entire world was ending right before your very eyes.

And from a young age you had always believed that not being forced into a relationship with your soulmate, that the opportunity of free love, was a human right. Was the only thing that made sense in the Universe. But, it's as you stare at them, it's as you watch the romantic and seemingly reoccurring kiss go on, that you start to second guess your decision on the matter.

Was it really right, when it made you feel so wrong?

You stand there, frozen in place, watching as your only source of happiness breaks your heart without even knowing you.

And then.

Min Yoongi.

Min Yoongi.

Min Yoongi.

How on this god forsaken Earth, were you going to tell Min Yoongi?

How were you supposed to tell Min Yoongi that your soulmate was with someone else? That the chances of you three being together was deteriorating, that it had died before it could even breathe?

And would Min Yoongi, of all people, even give a shit?

And then you start to think.

How could Park Jimin do this?

This was wrong.

But, your heart fumbles at the next thought that scatters across your brain.

Could love be wrong?

A voice you don't recognize as your own starts to scream inside of your head. Starts to yell, starts to tell you to run across the street, to ask them both if they were happy knowing that they've destroyed the possible happiness of not only Jimin's two soulmate's, but her's as well.

The same part of you wants to hit Park Jimin, wants to send a slap of pain across your soulmate's face so intense that your pain is somehow known, somehow felt.

A different part of you wants to fall onto your knees and apologize profusely to the Universe, to beg for forgiveness, because just what had you done to piss the Universe so much that it caused this of all things to happen?

But something holds you back. Something refrains you from screaming, from acting out in any sort of way. Something holds your body up when all you want to do is fall, something sends bursts of strength into your knees and keeps them strong.

And then a thought runs across your mind.

What if, perhaps, just maybe, you had heard incorrectly?

Deep down you know that this is just an excuse, that there was again, no way you could have heard incorrectly when you had been practicing that name since it's arrival on your skin, but you needed a reason to force your legs over to your soulmate, so that's the one you were going to give yourself.

“Y/N.” Yoona's soothing voice, something that reminds you of calm waves, ventures out into the air. And you've lost count on how many times she has mentioned your name, how many attempts to grasp your attention have failed, but this time, as you were nearing the ending of your thoughts, she was able to garner it all.

However, you do not turn to look at her, not knowing what excuse you'd be able to give her if you saw the concern in her eyes.

So with a shrug of your shoulders, an attempt to brush her hands off of you, knowing that she'd hold you back, quite literally; and a mutter of, “I'll just- be right back. Give me a second,” and without a second thought of hesitation, you begin walking across the empty street.

You find yourself wishing that the traffic was piled, that there was a rush blocking you from the other side. Therefore there was no possible way for you to cross the street.

You walk slowly towards your destination, but even then, you arrive much sooner than planned. Your heart suddenly beating quicker than it ever had before.

Your slow footsteps come to a stop when you reach the bottom of the concrete stairs that lead up to the porch where your soulmate, and the stranger, stand with each other.

Your eyes uplift, and you watch as hushed laughs are pushed into each one of their mouths, as hands that do not appear foreign to either one of them, touch the fabric covering the bodies they seem to be quite familiar with.

You have to suck in a deep breath to keep your composure.

It bothers you really, that the only reason they even become aware of your presence, is when you're forced to clear your throat, interrupting whatever romantic moment was occurring between the two.

And when Jimin's eyes meet yours.

Everything in the world goes quiet.

Everything stands still.

And you're having a second experience of a slow motion event.

Fallen cherry blossom petals stand still in the air – they float without actually moving. Your heartbeat dwindles, and you can hear each beat of it ring in your ears - beats that are too dramatically slow to be considered normal - to be considered healthy.

And all of this is because the person staring at you, is absolutely gorgeous, to say the absolute least.

Park Jimin was just as beautiful as the name written in ink across your skin.

With dark skin, that seems to come with it's own personal shine. Eyes so dark that they definitely put yours to shame, and short blonde hair that seems to be styled and kept short, a color that definitely compliments the eyes - your second soulmate had to be a descendant of Aphrodite herself.

All anger that you had been feeling seems to dissipate. Deflate within you, like helium escaping a balloon.

And it's after you're done admiring the facial features do you realize that lips – lips that are too plump and a healthy shade of pink have parted, and have attempted to make conversation with you.

You halt, not knowing what to say. At a loss for words.

“Can I help you?” Park Jimin repeats, and it sounds just like angels harmonizing the finest symphony ever composed.

You find the gaze too much to handle, so you glance to the side, to see the stranger's eyes, the stranger who was lip locked with your soulmate. Her attention is on you.

She looks curious, eyebrows knitted together, a smile faltering on her lips. And it's when you take in her appearance, do you realize that wow, she is gorgeous too.

Gorgeous people, you think, always find each other. Which is why you probably never would have had a chance.

You make the mistake of glancing down, and it's when you do, that you see how their hands are still intertwined. Fingers fitted in between spaces, and it makes your stomach start to drop again, makes you feel like you could throw up any second, and that – that would definitely not be such a great first impression.

You turn your attention back to your soulmate, and before you can process what you're saying, the name that's been sitting on your wrist for what seems like lifetimes, is finally being said to it's occupant for the first time.

“Park Jimin?” You ask, suddenly nervous and breath getting caught in your throat halfway through.

You watch with tedious eyes, as your soulmate responds.

“Yes,” Jimin pauses, a curious glint falling over facial expressions. “I'm Park Jimin. Do I know you?”

And the one thing you already knew is proven to be correct. You were in fact, staring at your other soulmate. Someone who was crafted from the same star as you,someone who was a very part of you.

That's when everything you rehearsed as a child, all the conversations developed, all the different and various scenarios that took place in your brain, disappear.

And it's as though they have ceased to exist.

That's when memories of your first soulmate interaction start to play over like a video stuck on replay inside of your head.

Min Yoongi's rash decision of not wanting anything to do with you is what causes you to step backwards.

His refusal, and his constant pushing you away is what makes you become frightened.

It's what causes the doubts to appear.

What if Park Jimin acted the same way Yoongi did?

What if your other soulmate didn't want anything to do with you too?

And in your defense, the kiss you had witnessed had pretty much proven just that.

You don't know what to do, you don't know how to act, and you don't know what to say, fear and a thousand outcomes creeping under your skin and setting inside of your head poisonously.

So you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind when the thoughts have cleared.

“I'm sorry,” you rush out. “I- I have the wrong person.”

And that's when you turn around quickly, needing to get as far away from your soulmate as possible. Needing to put as much space between the two of you as you could.

Because, you weren't ready.

Not for another rejection that was clearly inevitable.

Your feet are much faster stalking away before either of them can get a word in edgewise, than they were leading you to them.

And you have to physically force yourself to not look back, because you're sure that one more look into those dark eyes would have made you stay.

“I already told you.” You say to Yoona later that night. You're pacing back and forth in a straight line, a path from one wall to the other inside of your small living room. “That it was no one, alright? A case of mistaken identity.”

This had been the fifth time you had blurted out the aforementioned line and your patience was starting to wear thin.

Yoona was prodding.

You turn your head to where she is lounging, her body taking up a majority of the couch, limbs stretched out askew on the leather, while her attention remains settled on you. A concoction she's produced of whatever alcohol was left in your fridge, one that probably tiptoes on the edge of being borderline dangerous, is mixed into a red solo cup that dangles carelessly from her hand and over the edge of the couch.

It's hanging over the side haphazardly, and you're afraid that she's going to spill it any minute. And due to it's similarity in color to blood, you were sure the boys would make some sort of joke you weren't interested in hearing.

One that probably had something to do with your menstrual cycle.

“Please,” you beg, your footsteps suddenly halting. “Please, be careful.” Your eyes flicker to the cup before directing themselves back to hers, just in time to see them roll heavenward in annoyance.

You both had arrived to your apartment, about two hours ago, and it was empty, to no surprise really. It was the weekend, and the boys partied on the weekends.

Your hand circles around the last wine cooler you have, holding onto it for dear life.

You've changed from your outfit from earlier, into something more suiting for the temperature of your apartment. It had been an utter heatwave when you both had ventured inside.

So in result, you were wearing a pair of grey shorts, while a light blue tanktop settled over your torso. Your colored hair pulled up into a pony tail, while sweat glistened down your neck, and dripped over your collarbones.

“Y/N,” Yoona says. She had stripped down as well, but she was a little more immodest than you, more comfortable with her body, this allowing her to show more of her skin. She was wearing only her sports bra, while she had borrowed a pair of black stretchy shorts that looked to be a bit too big as they fell around her hips.

“Yoona.” You reply, tone terse, voice firm. You hadn't started moving again, and your eyes remained on hers.

You hold her gaze as hers doesn't waver, standing your ground with your french tipped manicured toes.

“Fine.” She grunts out a moment later. “I give up but -” she pauses and you already know what's coming before she's speaking the sentence you're oh so used to hearing. “I'm here if you want to talk or something.”

With that, she lifts the red cup to her lips and tosses it back, swallowing the reminiscent of whatever was left in it.

“Be careful, m'not taking care of you if you throw up.” You say, a smile curving up at the end of your lips. Then you resume your walking, your brain a scattered mess.

You were still debating on whether you should tell Yoongi about finding Jimin. Whether it was a good decision or not. You honestly had no idea what to do, and you had no one to go to – and that was your own fault, really.

But, you had to look at the facts. And the facts were that Min Yoongi had flipped the fuck out when he had learned your identity, so how would he react to discovering that you had found the person who completed your trio?

You stop walking again, head hanging down as you stare into the opening of your wine cooler. You sigh out audibly, teeth gliding across your bottom lip. You've consumed enough alcohol to label yourself as buzzed, which, to consider the events of earlier that day, wasn't hard to see as to why. You weren't drunk, and you weren't planning on getting drunk. You just needed to relax somehow, and you weren't in the mood to take a bubble bath, and Yoona had stuck around so that ruled out the possibility of taking a walk.

It had been your decision to drink, which had taken Yoona by complete surprise. But the hell if she wasn't going to go along with your outrageous decision. Yoona liked to drink, she liked it better when boys were involved, but when she had asked you, you had immediately refused.

You were not in the mood for people you didn't know making a mess of your apartment.

You walk over to where Yoona rests on the couch, your eyes moving to her legs, eyebrows uplifting in a gesture for her to raise her legs to make room for you.

She gets the hint, but does it reluctantly. Muttering out something incoherent along the lines of, “there's a chair right there?”And you replied with something like, “I'm a cuddler.”

You both had put on a movie, and before you knew it, Yoona was fast asleep.

It didn't take you long to do the same.

You awake hours later to a sound coming from your front door. One that makes you sit up immediately, and come to your senses. You're taken aback, at first, not quite sure if you had dreamed it or if it had actually occurred.

Your thoughts are answered a moment later when you hear the pounding again.

Instinctively, you reach for your phone, pushing the button that allows the homescreen to pop up. You're shocked at the time that displays itself across your phone.

3:23 A.M.

Who was at your door at three in the morning?

You glance under the time written across your home screen to see a message indicating that you had a missed call from an unknown number, but before you can question it further, your front door is being pounded against once again.

It's as you're shucking Yoona's legs off of your lap, and sliding off of the couch that you start to wonder if Taehyung and Hoseok had arrived home. Surely not, because you would have woken up, wouldn't you? After all, it was a Friday night and Friday nights were notoriously known for being Taehyung and Hoseok's party nights.

They probably forgot their keys. You think to yourself as your reach the door, because it had happened before. Or better yet, they probably forgot how to work their keys. Which had happened way too many times to be considered funny anymore.

As you're plotting their murders, imagining the ways you will kill them come morning, you open the door to reveal that you were only half correct.

Standing before you is three people.

Three people you recognize.

Scratch that.

Standing was one, using his body to support their weight was two.

Yoongi stares at you, eyes boring directly into yours as you pull the door open. Your mouth forms an o shape as the sight rings throughout your brain.

His lips part as he speaks.

“I'm sorry. I, uh, I know it's late. But they were hammered and I tried to get them to come back to my place-” he rushes out, “but they were insistent on staying here, they wanted to make sure you were safe or something.”

Your eyebrows furrow as they refuse to unlock themselves from Yoongi's. Yoongi takes your silence as an indication to further explain himself.

“I- I was able to get your number from Taehyung, and I tried to call but you didn't pick up.”

That explains the missed call then. You think to yourself. The scene before you not quite processing fully due to your half awake state.

You glance from a disheveled looking Yoongi, one who's blue hair is askew, and face appearing exhausted and down to his attire. The first thing you notice is that he definitely has a dried puke stain in the middle of his shirt.

The sight causes your nose to scrunch up in disgust.

He must be watching your eyes because he answers your silent question.

“Yeah, that's from Hoseok. Man can't handle his liquor.”

And wait, did he just attempt to lighten the mood? Did stone-cold-brick-wall Min Yoongi, just try to crack a joke?

It was a horrible attempt, if you said so yourself. 

This was all so odd to you.

“I'm sorry,” you say a moment later, after coming to your senses. You lift your eyes so they are staring into Yoongi's.

“I know this is unpleasant to ask, and that you've already done enough by making sure they got home safely but-” you hesitate, a little unsure of how to ask your question. And then you decide to just go with it. “Do you uh mind, helping me put them to bed?”

You watch as his eyebrows contort then, his lips twitching the tiniest amount. And then he's speaking.

“I was planning on doing just that.”

You stand there for a moment, eyes locking on his. And you're sort of in a state of shock, because you had not seen this side of Min Yoongi before.

Of course, deep down, behind the asshole persona you were starting to associate with him, you figured that there was a softer version of him, but you hadn't expected to ever be able to see it.

When you see the way he winces, you spring into action. Deciding that you can't punish Min Yoongi by making him support the weight of two very inebriated and weight baring men. (Not that Taehyung or Hoseok were fat, they weren't. But their heights and muscles were the issue)

“I guess I'll take Taehyung then.” You state, deciding that you'd leave the heavier of the two for Min Yoongi. Now, you most definitely were punishing him for his behavior. A part of you hoped that he'd feel the strain on his muscles in the morning.

Before you step forward to grasp Taehyung from Yoongi's body, your eyes lock with Yoongi, your lips parting slowly as you speak. “Just, try to keep him quiet if you can. Yoona's asleep on the couch.”

The response you get is a nod of his head.

One of Taehyung's arms slide across your neck, his hand dangling downwards, his fingertips brushing your collarbones. You decide to grab that hand knowing that at times when Taehyung got drunk, he could get a little frisky to put it lightly. You settled with wrapping your other hand around Taehyung's waist, fingertips digging into his hip.

“Just, uh, follow me. Hoseok's room is the first room we'll pass in the hallway.” You say in a whisper loud enough for Yoongi to hear, you don't get a response, but you figure that he must have heard you.

The amount of noises the two drunken boys make, and the incoherent mumbling that falls from their lips is at a minimal, and you're quite thankful.

When you reach the hallway, you turn your head over your shoulder just in time to see Yoongi walking into Hoseok's room, he makes eye contact, just for a brief second before he disappears through the threshold.

When he's out of your sight, you let out a slow breath, one that you hadn't realized you had been holding.

This was getting to be a hell of a day.

Your feet are silent as they press into the carpet of your apartment's hallway. And you're almost to Taehyung's room when things take a turn for the worst.

The little coherency Taehyung was, had slipped and he had passed out, quite literally, into your body. His weight starts to push into yours, and in the midst of trying to keep him balanced, you lose yours. Your eyes shut just as you prepare yourself for the fall, as prepare yourself for the pain of having a man twice your size fall onto you as you hit the ground, but – it doesn't happen.

The next thing you comprehend, is a pair of hands that do not belong to Taehyung, grabbing your hips. Ones that aren't large enough to be Taehyung's. Ones that can't be Taehyung's, because one of Taehyung's is in one of your hands.

And second, the heat that radiates from these pair of hands, through the fabric of your thin tanktop, and into your skin, is warm enough to tell you one thing.

Min Yoongi is touching you.

You let out a slow shudder, one that breathes out into the hallway between your clenched teeth. Your eyes open then, and your shoulders go tense.

When you look over your shoulder, to prove your suspicions correct, you're met with a wide eyed Yoongi who quickly retracts his hands from your hips.

“I'm-” he stutters in a whisper. “I'm sorry.”

Your lips part then, eyes staying focused on his and then you speak just as quietly as he did. “I got this, but if you want to go to the bathroom, the last door at the end of the hallway, I'll be there with a change of shirt after I get him to his bed.”

He nods slowly, eyes not leaving yours.

You turn your head then, before guiding Taehyung into his room. You're able to walk him over to his bed, and set him down on it. But you're unable to get him under the covers or into a comfortable position before he collapses, and falls asleep within literal seconds. You are, however, able to untie his tennis shoes and slip them off of him.

Afterward, you pause. Letting out a deep breath. Seeing Min Yoongi was again, surreal. And the wound wasn't going to heal if he kept making appearances, but you were thankful for him. If it wasn't for his hospitality, you find it odd – associating that word with him – then your friend's would have probably ended up in a ditch somewhere, or worse.

You shake the thought from your head as you venture to Taehyung's closet, quiet as you pick out a white tshirt that was of medium size. Yoongi was shorter than Taehyung yes, but his shoulders were broad. Not quite as broad as Jin's, but still broad, so you figured that the shirt would fit him.

After picking out the tshirt and closing Taehyung's door, you start to make your way to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

But the light that illuminates into the dark hallway is not coming from the bathroom, but the room across from it – your room.

You take a deep breath at the thought of Yoongi in your room. You were absolutely sure you told him right not left. Your feet are unusually quiet as they creep down the hallway, your curiosity for what Yoongi was doing inside your room getting the best of you.

When you reach the end of your hallway, your door is wide open, your bedroom light on, and standing in the middle of your room is sure enough, one, Min Yoongi.

His back is to you, and your lips part to tell him that, that's certainly not the bathroom, but something stops you. You watch as his head turns in different directions, indicating that his eyes were moving from different areas, taking in the different things of your room.

Your room is not small, but it isn't large. It's medium sized, but it was perfect for you. When you first walked in, on the far wall was your bed, which was unmade. Because to you, unmade beds were just more comfortable than made ones. Plus, you were just going to get back into it anyway, what was the use in making it?

The carpet in your room is like the carpet in the rest of the apartment, white. A white that makes you fearful of stains.

Next to your bed is a small black nightstand, that holds your lamp, an alarm clock that was probably older than you, and the two books you were eager to read, yet hadn't done so yet, the ones from Haruki Murakami.

Another much larger lamp sits on the opposite wall next to your small desk, a few inches beside it your dresser, your closet is on the wall to the left of your door. Your room wasn't anything special.

Of course photos of your parents, and collages of you and your friend's were plastered on walls, or on surface spaces, but that was about it. Nothing special, but even with that stated fact, Min Yoongi seemed to be in awe – or perhaps, even a trance.

And, he must sense your gaze. Must feel the heat reflecting from your eyes, because you watch as his shoulders tense a moment later.

He stills, and it takes him a few seconds too long to turn around.

And when he does, he looks apologetic. His eyes staring directly into yours, and the look strewn across his face resembles one of a kicked puppy. One that appears when you are discovered doing something intimate, something that was supposed to be private.

He interrupts your thoughts then.

“I'm sorry.” He says, voice soft as he speaks. “I thought you said left.”

You give him what you can, which is a small yet genuine smile, and a short nod of your head. Your eyes not looking away from his.

“Don't worry about it, I probably did.” Silence ensues a moment later as both of you fault at things to say. His eyes, however, break their eye contact from yours and falters down to the bunched up fabric in your hands.

And that's when you remember the sole purpose for coming down the hallway.

“Oh,” you say quietly when it registers in your mind. “Yeah, this is for you.” You outstretch your arm then, eyes flickering to the carpet of your room as he starts to walk towards you. He stops when he's a few inches in front of you.

And despite the disgusting vomit stained to his shirt, you can still get a whiff of his familiar axe cologne. The smell only becoming more vibrant when he takes the shirt from you, nods his head in a thanks, and slides past you.

He doesn't look at you again until he's shutting the bathroom door.

“I'll uh,” you say, causing him to stop his movements. “I'll be waiting outside. Take your time.” He nods his head, lips pursing together as he shuts the door.

And again, you're met with letting out a deep breath that you didn't know you had been holding.

Once you're outside, you run a hand through the top of your pony tail, you start to pace back and forth along the space of the porch you are provided with, nervous feelings starting to settle in your stomach.

Should you tell Yoongi about Jimin?

Should you inform him of what you witnessed earlier that day?

Your mind was an absolute mess, filled with conflicting thoughts and feelings.

Your other hand dangles by your side as the top row of your white teeth start to slide across your bottom lip. This was going to be your makeshift coping mechanism for now, because your old one wasn't going to work for obvious reasons.

Your pacing comes to a stop when you hear the door to your shared apartment opening. You're standing to the left of the porch, back pressing up against the railing of the stairs.

You hadn't come to a decision yet, on whether to tell Yoongi what you had seen or not, and now you had run out of time to decide.

Yoongi's head lifts upwards as he opens the door, eyes immediately finding yours. He steps outward, shutting the door to your apartment behind him and he starts to walk down the stairs, and you think that maybe he's going to leave right then and there, without further conversation, when he suddenly stops. His body turning around, and his eyes once again finding yours.

“Thank you.” You find yourself blurting out, because it was better than an uncomfortable awkward silence.

He shakes his head.

“No, you don't need to thank-”

You interrupt.

“You could have left them at whatever fucking party they were at, but you didn't and I -” you hesitate, letting out a low breath. “I really appreciate that.”

Another silence occurs between the two of you.

And for a split second you're starting to think that you prefer the arguments over the weird, drawn out, awkward silences.

But you know, damn well, that the thought was a bullshit lie.

He nods his head, and then he takes a step backward. He lifts a hand as he points behind him towards his car, using his thumb to do so. “I better get going, I need to get Jungkook home and to bed.”

And then you rip your eyes from him, and find yourself staring at Min Yoongi's vehicle, and sure enough you're able to make out the form of a man child in the passenger side seat of the door. From the looks of it, he's asleep, but you can't be so sure.

“Yeah, you better.” You reply as your eyes settle back on Yoongi's.

And that's the end of it. He turns then, heading for his car, and you do the same, only heading for your door. Your hand has circled around the doorknob, and you're just about to twist and push in when the sound of him speaking stops you.

“Y/N.”

And it's just one word, your name, but it's enough to make you cease any action.

You turn then, finding him standing on the sidewalk between the stairs of your apartment and his car. His eyes are on yours, and his lips part. His eyes flicker down to the sidewalk for a moment, as if he's trying to figure out the best way to say what he wants to say.

So, you look down too, eyes settling on your bare feet.

With his eyes still directed down on the sidewalk he speaks.

And his next sentence takes you by surprise.

“I think we should be friend's.”

Time stills for what feels like hours. And this was the third time this had occurred today.

Slowly, your head lifts upwards.

Your dark eyes dragging across every inch of sidewalk as you trail them to his body.

Your shoulders slink a little bit, and your eyebrows furrow, as you try to discover if you had heard what you thought you had.

“You,” you are able to get out before choking on air. The abrupt end of your sentence causes him to look up, his eyes once again settled on yours.

“You want to be friend's?” You question out loud, your tone a little louder than anticipated. Disbelief starting to course through your being.

And then something you think, resembling anger starts to flood your body.

You watch as his head falls again, as his teeth start to bite into his bottom lip – his own coping mechanism, his own bad habit. One you had copied without realization.

The breeze that fills the air next has your body suddenly shivering, and your arms twitching at your sides, but you don't move them to warm your skin, you don't want to appear weak at the moment.

You glance at your feet then, at a loss for words as the surrealism of his offer starts to make itself known.

Was Min Yoongi, your soulmate - Min motherfucking Yoongi, the same boy who had screamed at you more often than not, the same one who was an angry son of a bitch, offering you, of all people, you, the same person he had said nasty things to, the same person he had pushed away, a goddamn friendship?

Was he offering you a friendship, when he had told you not that long ago that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you?

Was he offering you a friendship, after throwing a fit when you had offered him one?

You click your tongue then, an effortless and breathless laugh – if it could even be described as such, falling from your lips.

“You know,” you start, “the severity of your drastic mood swings are going to give me a damn heart attack, Min Yoongi.”

You look up to find his gaze upwards now, your words having caught his attention.

“How do I know you won't wake up tomorrow or three days from now wanting something different, or perhaps the complete opposite?” You shake your head once, your lips pursing before you add on, “And is this not the exact same thing I asked for when you blew up on me?”

Your tone is a bit on edge, and you think he can tell by the way he winces just a tad. But his eyes remain on yours, and suddenly the shivering and the coldness that you had been feeling disappears.

It takes him a solid minute to find the words he speaks next.

“In all honestly,” he says, voice quiet and drawn out as he begins. “You don't. I am a very temperamental person.”

You don't mean for it to happen, but a sound that resembles a snort leaves your mouth. Temperamental, you think, that's one way to put it.

His eyes narrow just a little in retaliation, but it doesn't keep him from continuing. “But I'm willing to try. And precisely, you did, so isn't it-” he pauses, “isn't it what you want? You said it yourself, it only makes sense we try to get along. It's obvious that we'll be seeing a lot of each other.”

You want to scoff, but instead, you bring your hands together, fingers intertwining. Your blunt thumbnails gliding across the skin of your hands just gently.

It is what you wanted.

You find his eyes too much to handle for the time being, you need a break. So you direct your eyes down to your hands, you study the way your fingers fit together.

And Yoongi – he is silent after that, awaiting an answer, and if it wasn't for the effects of his gaze indicating that his eyes had not been removed from your smaller form, then you would have sworn he had given up and retreated to his car.

You think over the events of the day, of everything that had occurred in the span of twenty four hours. And – so much had happened, so many things you weren't ready for had been thrown in your face, and this, this, was just adding onto it all.

You think over what you want to say, and when you formulate the sentences, you speak them without looking up from your hands.

“I've had such a bad day.” You let out a breath. “And I told you, the wound is still fresh. And now you're springing this of all things on me? I'm-” you let out another effortless, humorless laugh. “I'm definitely way too sober for this conversation.”

You look up then, finally allowing your eyes to meet his once again.

“I wanted to attempt a friendship yes, but that--” you swallow. “That was before I saw a raw end of you. Or,” you correct yourself. “Before I saw several.”

He looks down then, like he's physically unable to meet your gaze, like he's ashamed of the person he's allowed you to see.

You watch as he raises a hand, allowing his fingers to lazily skid through his blue hair.

“Look,” he says after a moment has passed. His head lifting back upwards, eyes reconnecting with yours.

Heat spreads throughout your body like forest fires, and no matter how many times it occurs, you will never get used to it.

“I never once claimed to be a good person.” He gulps. “That – that was a part of the persona you created by yourself. But,” he stops abruptly. “But I care about Seokjin and Jungkook. And I'm starting to care about-”

He pauses, you suck in a breath.

“--Others.”

And you can't help but to feel the disappointment that spreads throughout your body.

“I apologize for my behavior, and if I've said anything that may have caused you any distress-” His sentence trails off and his voice disappears once again, only to resurface moments later.

“I was faced with something I was not ready to de-” he stops, and changes the word. “-handle. And in result, I acted in a way I shouldn't have. In a way, I regret. - But, but - I want to try a friendship, for the sake of my friend's – old and new. And I'm aware of what you said earlier, about the wound healing, which is why there is no rush - I just thought that perhaps while it healed you could think over things. So just let me know, when – when you find out your answer.”

You let his words soak in.

And he offers you one last glance, his beautiful eyes staring directly into yours for just a brief second, and then he's turning away. Walking away from you slowly.

As he reaches the curb you find yourself speaking. In a voice, he could only hear if he was listening.

“Are you ready to handle it now? - The thing you were faced with?”

And he must have been listening because, he answers you, looking over his shoulder.

And he just stares.

For seconds.

For moments.

For minutes that feels like hours.

“I'm ready to try.”

And that's the last thing that's said that night.

The last time he stares at you before he walks to the side of his car, climbs inside, starts the engine and drives away.

And he leaves you there alone with your thoughts, with nobody to listen, but the moon.

When you wake up the next morning, you have a text message from an unknown number. The same one from the night before.

[09:45 AM] Unknown Number – I didn't wake up wanting something different.

Pt. 09.

A/N- As I was pasting the words onto here, I suddenly grew very insecure of this part. So I genuinely hope it was somewhat  enjoyable. And I hope it sort of makes up for some of the angst you’ve all been through! Any who, let me know your thoughts! Also and as always, thank you for your continued support, I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you guys! Much love. ♡

PS- I am not sure who this gif belongs to, so if you made it please let me know so I can credit you!

[profoundbond-n-tfw]

A/B/O Destiel Fic Recs.

Being the fic Whore/Junkie that I am I always have fics to rec or pimp out. Recently I was talking to my dear friend Heather ( @dean-and-castiel-winchester) about some A/B/O fics and our preference for Alpha Cas, Omega Dean and the lack there of. 

We both just finished reading Self-Control by starmouse123 Rating M Words 83,697 and she mentioned wanting to read more A/B/O longer fics, so here are a few that I thought I would share with her & anyone else interested in this particular genre. Not all of these fics are Alpha Cas Omega Dean though still part of that verse. *In no particular order*

A Hole in the World by AnnelieseMichel.

Rating: E Words: 302,280

Summary:

Dean Winchester never wanted to go home again. Going back to Lawrence meant people who knew what he was, who didn't buy into the lie. But with a tragic accident, he's back and dealing with the death of his father, the social stigma and objectification of being an out Omega, and the lingering aftermath of a long-ago crime.

Beneath the Live Oaks by LittleAngelCassie 

Rating: E Words: 101,733

Summary:

Castiel has lived a sheltered life tucked away in the high society of Savannah, Ga. When his mate dies in childbirth Castiel is left with a daughter to raise alone and a home that is just too big. At the suggestion of his family he enters the world of Omega claiming and discovers that perhaps his real mate, his one true love is a tall green eyed stunning Texan. The man is a stranger and yet as they navigate this new relationship together he finds out that sometimes you have to just enjoy the cherry pie.

Flight Pattern by lysanatt 

Rating: E Words: 38,826

Summary:

The were-albatross is fiercely monogamous and mates only with other were-albatrosses. That is unfortunate, because when tree-trash werecat Dean bumps into Castiel, a high society omega albatross, it is instant attraction. Not everybody is on with the program, so Castiel and Dean take desperate measures to get what they both want. Accused of kidnapping, fleeing from Castiel's flight alpha, two grumpy brothers and the police, Cas and Dean go on a road trip across the country, destination Vegas, dead set on being both mated and married before they return to their families.

Gravity vs Velocity by PaperAnn 

Rating: E Words: 147,103

Summary:

Newton's law of universal gravitation states that any two bodies in the universe attract each other with a force that is directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between the two bodies.

Dean swears he feels an honest-to-goodness gravity (not any scent-true-mates-bullshit) pulling him to a mysterious omega and makes the worst mistake of his career... he only has one thing to say...

Fuck science.

Mulder and Scully by teller_of_tales_and_hero_of_songs 

Rating: E Words: 79,636

Summary:

Castiel Novak is an undercover FBI agent working to take down a white collar criminal named Azazel, but Castiel finds himself way out of his depths when the case takes a dangerous turn and Azazel gets involved in an omega trafficking deal. With the help of an OPA agent named Dean, the Bureau and the Omega Protection Agency take down Azazel and his seller, Dick Roman.

As it turns out, that case wasn't the last Castiel would see of Dean Winchester, and it isn't long at all before Castiel finds himself falling in love with the fiery, strong-willed omega.

Three Things by PaperAnn

Rating: E Words: 293,417

Summary:

For the most part, Dean got along with everyone. Or at least could fake it. Dealing with Castiel Novak was a completely different story.

Three very distinct things were working against him.

The first being he flirted with anything remotely attractive that moved, and ignored customers in his attempts to warm his bed at night. It wasn’t as though he was just an alpha. He was a fuckin’ alpha on steroids, who had a one track mind when it came to getting laid, which just so happened to be every. Single. Night.

The second was the fact that he came into work high as fuck most nights, and Dean could always count on it Fridays and by the end of his shift Sunday.

But his third problem?

Castiel Novak was hot as fuck. Like he had walked right out of one of Dean’s wet dreams, and he hated how much his body craved him. He hated him on paper: slut, hard drug user, street drug seller, who knew what else was on that list. But he wanted him. Bad.

Typecast by mnwood

Rating: E Words: 74,778

Summary:

Up-and-coming movie actor Castiel Novak knows he'll never be taken seriously if all he ever plays is betas, and as an alpha he certainly doesn't think it's a wise career choice to play an omega. However, when he's offered the omega role in a gay romance and learns that the much more famous (and his crush) Dean Winchester is playing the alpha, Cas decides maybe it's time to take a risk. But when they meet on day one, Cas isn't sure what to make of Dean's scent.

Unwritten by PorcupineGirl 

Rating: E Words: 75,784

Summary:

A spontaneous scent bond is the stuff of romance novels: an alpha and an omega meet by chance, and they happen to be so compatible that their pheromones are perfectly aligned, drawing them irresistibly together to mate and bond for life.

Neither bookstore owner Dean Winchester nor science fiction novelist Castiel Novak have ever thought it sounded romantic. Your hormones going nuts and tricking you into tying yourself to a complete stranger for the rest of your life? No thanks.

But when Castiel comes to Dean's store for a signing, they feel an inexplicable pull toward each other, and into a powerful bond that neither of them wants. A bond that shouldn't even be possible for two alphas.

At least they agree on one thing: they will not let biology determine their fate.

Why do I go to extremes? by zation

Rating: E Words: 104,236

Summary:

In a world where Weres are basically pets to humans, having sex with one is clearly off limits. In the same world, Dean Winchester lives with this enormous secret that no one has yet to find out. Too bad that a chance meeting will have him confronted with that secret in the most blatant of ways.

Or,

The one where human Dean has a fetish for fucking Alphas and where Alpha Castiel might not be as clueless as some seem to think.

[saviourfinn]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Finn/Rey,  Poe Dameron & Finn Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates Summary:

Trapped in a life he never wanted, Finn decides to right his wrongs and take a stand against his former employers.

He just never expected to meet his soulmate along the way.

 For a long time, Finn thought he would grow up to become a thief.

Maybe growing up in an abusive orphanage, mistreated by adults who only saw him as a number, and ostracized by his peers who considered him weak, helped enforce the idea that his future would be bleak and hopeless enough for him to turn to a life of petty crime. But what convinced him of the certainty of his fate was the sentence written across his hipbone, a messy handwriting spelling the words “What’s your hurry, thief ?”.

He was five at the time and, having just learned how to read, he was very excited to finally be able to decipher his soulmate’s first words to him. There were a lot of stories about soulmates, about the romantic words etched on people’s skin, and Finn, who was never given any love or affection, was eager to read the sweet sentence destined to him. But when he read the words, slowly spelling the syllables aloud to better understand them, his heart shattered. His soulmate’s first words weren’t loving or sweet or even funny. They were disdainful - just like every other person he had ever known in his short life - and they were calling him “thief”.

Finn cried every night for weeks, muffling his sobs into his thin pillow by fear of Mrs Phasma punishing him for making too much noise at night. But eventually, he decided that even though no one would ever love him, at least he could keep being himself and keep doing the few things he enjoyed. He kept reading and learning, stoically ignoring the other kids calling him “nerd” and “suck-up” and far less pleasant names. He kept helping Slip every time the latter broke something, or wet his bed (the trick was to change the sheets before any adult noticed, or Slip would be punished and publicly humiliated). He kept acing all the exams at school, becoming a straight-A student and making the other kids resent him even more.

Years passed and he went on bettering himself, Mrs Phasma even telling him he “had potential” - the only compliment he ever heard her utter. The First Order Orphanage had a partnership with a company called Empire, which had agreed to give a job to the most promising kid of the orphanage each year. At the end of his senior year, Finn was offered the job and took it : it was a low-paid, dull, dreadful job with awful colleagues and even more awful bosses, but what else was he going to do ? He would have liked to go to college (his grades were good enough to get into an excellent one) but he had no money or resources, no friends, and had been clearly told by Mr Hux that if he dared to reject the offer he would be thrown out on the street (”What could you even do besides this job ?” Hux had sneered. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a low-life like you. Far better than you deserve, if you want my opinion”).

So here Finn is, at 23, working for a terrible company who makes money by ruining people’s lives, stuck in a routine that is starting to make him lose his mind. He hates his life, and pointedly ignores the words still written on his hipbone - he isn’t a thief per se, but the Empire is and since he works for them, what does that make him ? However, he still hopes that one day, a stroke of luck will give him the opportunity to change his life.

————————-

 Luck comes under the form of a disheveled and dashing man known as Poe Dameron, top reporter working for the famous Resistance, a newspaper founded by Leia Organa and specialized in exposing the illegal maneuvers of corrupt firms and politicians.

He is caught investigating the Empire’s headquarters by Vice President Kylo Ren, who punches him and locks him in a closet before leaving to consult with Chairman Snoke, probably to figure out what to do with Dameron and the dangerous secrets he managed to uncover.

Finn witnesses the entire scene and secretly records the assault and the kidnapping on his phone, the other employees too engrossed in the altercation to notice him. His mind is racing with what he has to do - the right thing - and his heart is painfully hammering in his chest because he has never been good at keeping his anxiety at bay. He has been thinking about quitting his job for months now, he couldn’t stand having a hand - even indirectly - in destroying people’s lives anymore. But Finn is no fool, and quitting like this would have made him homeless and unable to find a new job, the Empire being powerful and resentful enough to prevent him from getting hired by someone else.

But with what’s happening right now, he has an opportunity. He can help Poe Dameron escape, and even help him take down the Empire with his inside knowledge of their illegal activities. If the Empire’s influence is diminished by scandals and lawsuits, then maybe he has a chance of escaping their clutch. He can’t bear to work for them any longer anyway.

And this is how Finn finds himself on a motorbike with Poe Dameron after breaking him out, chased by the grey cars of the Empire who seem very intent on stopping them. They eventually manage to shake them off by racing across narrow streets, but then they lose control of the bike and end up driving off the road and into a wall. Finn gets hurled meters away and knocked out by the impact.

When he wakes up, sporting only a few bruises thanks to his helmet and his too-thick Empire uniform, the bike is destroyed and Dameron is nowhere to be found. The only thing left of him is his very distinguishable brown leather jacket laying among the rubble. Finn picks it up, and puts it on after shedding his uniform vest. He can hear police sirens coming closer, and the Empire goons are probably still around, so the best thing to do is to lay low and disappear in the crowded streets.

————————-

 Two hours later, Finn is still walking aimlessly around the city. Things didn’t go as planned and he has no idea what to do now. He has no money on him, he is wanted by the Empire, and can’t go back to his tiny room because they are probably waiting for him there. Dameron has vanished (is he even okay ?) and he has no idea of how to contact the Resistance. Would they even believe him anyway ? After all, he worked for the very people they are trying to take down. Another thing adding to his anxiety is the USB stick he found in the pocket of Poe Dameron’s jacket. It’s round and white and orange, with “BB-8″ engraved on the side. Finn supposes this stick contains important information, perhaps even a lot of evidence against the Empire. But what is he going to do with it ?

Finn wanders into a busy market, still trying to blend in while gathering his thoughts, when he hears a commotion. He turns around and sees a girl being pushed around by two men. Finn is about to intervene (you don’t survive in the First Order Orphanage without learning how to use your fists), but stops dead in his tracks when the girl gets rid of her aggressors by herself. In a truly impressive move, she grabs one of them by the collar and collides his nose with her knee, then punches the other so hard in the jaw Finn hears a cracking sound from where he’s standing.

The girl towers over the two men sprawled on the floor. She’s red in the face with anger, loose strands of hair escaping her buns, and her hazel eyes are shining with rightful fury. Finn thinks she’s breathtaking… until she snaps her head up and directs her glare toward him. They look at each other for a few seconds, then she squints and seems to become even angrier. Only now, Finn is the target. She suddenly starts running toward him, murder written all over her face, so Finn turns on his heels and runs away.

Well, he tries to.

The girl clearly knows the market’s complex alleys better than he does, and suddenly she’s in front of him, kicking his legs from under him and making him fall hard on his back. This is truly the worst day of my life, he mournfully thinks.

“What’s your hurry, thief ?” she spits.

Finn’s mind goes blank. Of all the times and places, he would have never thought to hear these words right now. Is this girl his soulmate ? Why would she call him that when he didn’t steal anything ? Did he even hear the words right ? He probably didn’t, there’s no way this is actually happening… Confused and with his thoughts racing as fast as his heart, Finn can only utter :

“What ? Thief ?”

The girl goes very still. A myriad of complex emotions washes over her face, and she opens up and closes her mouth several times as if she was trying to speak but was unable to.

Uh. This girl might actually be his soulmate after all.

Eventually, the girl seems to shake off her stunned behavior. Her mouth sets into a thin bitter line and her eyes harden again.

“Yes, thief,” she says through clenched teeth. “I know this jacket, it’s one of a kind. I would recognize it anywhere. I also know the owner, and he would never willingly separate from it. So give me back what you stole, thief, and maybe I’ll let you walk away unscathed.”

“W-wait,” Finn says while scrambling up to his feet, “don’t tell me you actually know Dameron ? Poe Dameron ?”

“Yes,” she answers slowly, eyeing him with even more suspicion than before.

“Oh thank god ! Listen– there is a misunderstanding here, ok ? I didn’t steal this jacket. You say you know Dameron– did you know he was investigating the Empire company ?”

“…Yes.”

“Well they caught him, and I helped him escape. But they followed us and then we crashed, and when I woke up Dameron was gone. He left his jacket and this USB stick behind. To be honest I wasn’t sure what to do with it, but since you know him you can probably help me get it back to him ?”

The girl stays silent for a few minutes, apparently processing all the information. She seems to believe him, though, because her eyes become kinder, and her mouth stretches into a small but soft smile. It’s very endearing, and Finn feels himself fluster. The girl seems to become quite embarrassed, too, as she ducks her head and shifts on her feet.

“It’s quite a misunderstanding, indeed. Sorry for knocking you down.”

“It’s okay. I understand, you were just trying to protect a friend. By the way, are you okay ? I saw these guys attack you. I also saw you kick their asses, but getting jumped is never a good experience.”

At these words, she snaps her head up and looks at him with a surprised, then intrigued but soft expression, as if she is starting to figure him out and likes what she is discovering. Finn is himself quite fascinated by this girl, by her fierceness and the softness laying underneath, by all the emotions she experiences and can’t always conceal. Finn, who always felt alienated, somehow feels immediately connected to this stranger. They barely know each other, but when he looks into her eyes it’s like he’s meeting an old friend for the first time in decades, foreign but so familiar at the same time. Is this what meeting your soulmate feels like ?

“I’m fine,” she says slowly. Then, remembering the question he initially asked her, she adds “Ah, yes, I’ll bring you to the Resistance. Follow me.”

She starts walking and Finn falls in step besides her.

“So, do you also work with the Resistance ? Since you helped Poe escape and all.”

Finn’s throat is suddenly dry. The moment she learns the truth, she’ll hate him, he’s sure of that. But he doesn’t want to lie, especially not to her.

“Not at all. I worked for the Empire until, well, a few hours ago. I hated it, really, but a boy’s gotta eat. I saw them detain Poe though, and I was sick of working for these monsters, so I broke him out. I also wanted to give the Resistance some intel I have on their illegal activities, but things didn’t go as planned.”

Finn keeps looking at his boots, not daring to face Rey’s judgmental eyes. However, he turns toward her when she says :

“That’s really brave of you.”

He’s so surprised he misses a step. Rey isn’t judging him, she actually seems impressed.

“Really,” she goes on, smiling broadly (and oh, isn’t it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen), “everyone knows that those who dare oppose the Empire get destroyed. It’s why none of their employees ever betrayed them, and why even powerful people don’t get in their way. But you ! You decided that helping a stranger and trying to stop them was worth risking everything. That’s… that’s really something, you know.”

And Finn doesn’t know what to say to this fierce girl calling him brave, especially that she’s now looking at him with fondness and admiration and– no one ever looked at him this way. Finn goes back to staring at his boots, he can feel his eyes prickle and right now isn’t a good time to get emotional. So instead he says :

“I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”

“It’s Rey.”

“That’s a pretty name. I’m Finn.”

“That’s a pretty name, too.”

Finn isn’t sure if she’s saying that to be polite - he has a feeling she never lies out of politeness - but when he looks at her she’s still smiling and her eyes are bright and sparkling. A Rey of light, indeed. Finn can’t help but smile as big as her, and feels butterflies swooping in his stomach.

————————-

 They keep talking during the rest of their walk to the Resistance. The conversation flows easily, as if they’ve been best friends their entire lives. Finn learns that Rey doesn’t work for the Resistance, but as a mechanic in a repair shop. However her boss is married to Leia Organa, so she knows some Resistance employees quite well. He learns that she is an orphan like him, and that the various foster homes she was dropped in during her childhood rarely bothered to feed her correctly. She eventually started to provide for herself by taking odd jobs in repair shops, until she met Han Solo who, impressed by her passion and talent for mechanics, offered her a real, well-paid job.

In turn, he tells her about his life in the First Order, how their “caretakers” didn’t even bother to call them by their names, to the point of him believing for most of his childhood that FN-2187, his file number, was his actual name. He tells her about his work at the Empire, how much it revolted him and how trapped he felt, and how even if his future is now scary and uncertain, he’s sure he made the right decision.

Finn doesn’t really know why he’s telling her so much about his life, things he never told anyone before, and he is also sure that Rey doesn’t usually open up to strangers. It is scary and overwhelming but good, this natural trust he can feel growing between them.

However, he also knows they are purposefully talking about everything but the obvious fact that they are soulmates. He has her handwriting etched on his skin, and she has his somewhere on her body. But for two people who have been alone - and lonely - for most of their lives, being faced with the reality that they are forever linked to each other can be terrifying. Finn doesn’t know how he feels about all that, and he doesn’t want to bring it up in case it freaks Rey out and she decides she doesn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.

————————-

 They eventually arrive to the Resistance’s headquarters. The building is huge, wider than tall, and bustling with energy. Dozens of people run across the hallways, carrying stacks of papers and typing on their tablets with a phone stuck between an ear and a shoulder. A loud burst of laughter startles Finn : he turns around and spots a few employees chatting and laughing next to the coffee machine, seemingly taking a break amidst the ambient chaos. He’s baffled by how relaxed they are : in the Empire company the concept of “break” doesn’t exist, and interrupting your work to talk about something other than, well, work, puts you in serious trouble. Things are apparently different at the Resistance, and most employees seem to actually enjoy their jobs.

Rey finally stops before a secretary at his desk. They’re at the building’s highest floor, and things are quieter here. There are less people, less running, and more hushed conversations.

“Hi there,” Rey says.

“Hi, Rey ! It’s been a while. What can I do for you ?”

“I need to speak to Mrs Organa, it’s quite urgent.”

“I’m afraid it’ll have to wait. Her whole afternoon is booked. Maybe I can slip you in her schedule tomorrow ?”

“No, you don’t understand. I need to speak with her immediately. It’s about the Empire.”

“Still, you can’t talk to her right now. And who is this young man ? I–”

Finn can only watch as Rey, annoyed, rolls her eyes and pushes open the big doors behind the desk, motioning him to follow her.

“Wait ! You can’t just barge in her office like that, she’s in the middle of an important meet–”

Rey closes the doors shut on the poor secretary’s face. Finn is already panicked - what is she doing, she’s supposed to help him not get them kicked out of here - but his heart stops when an unimpressed voice asks :

“What is the meaning of all this ?”

Finn slowly turns around. Leia Organa is standing in front of him. The Leia Organa, former Senator and current defender of truth and justice, one of the most powerful and influential women in the world. She’s small, smaller than he thought she would be, but her presence is huge and commanding. She radiates charisma, and Finn finds himself straightening his back without really meaning to. She’s still looking at them with a piercing gaze and– oh god he just got into trouble with Leia freaking Organa. He’s about to apologize and drag Rey out of the office, when another voice catches his attention.

“Finn ! Buddy, you’re okay !”

“Poe Dameron ??”

Finn had been so fixated on Leia that he hadn’t even noticed Dameron, standing next to her. The reporter is still sporting the purple bruise he got from Kylo Ren’s punch, and has a few scratches on his face and hands - probably from the accident - but he seems okay. Finn is incredibly relieved.

“How ?” he says, baffled. “When I woke up you were gone. I was worried that–”

“Yeah I know, I’m sorry about that,” Dameron says as he steps closer. He looks really regretful. “I had a bug on me in case things went wrong, and right after we crashed some of my colleagues found me and rushed me to the hospital. But in the panic I don’t think they saw you, and I was too far out to notice what the hell was going on. I’m really sorry, you saved me and yet when you needed help I wasn’t there for you. Are you okay ? How bad are you hurt ? Did you get checked out by a doctor ?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Finn says before Poe can keep fussing over him. It feels strange - but good - that someone he barely knows worries so much about him. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

Then he suddenly remembers why he’s here in the first place :

“Ah ! I found your jacket after the crash, with this USB stick in one of the pockets.”

“You found BB-8 ? That’s amazing !”

“It’s nothing, really. Here– your jacket,” he offers, starting to shrug the clothes off. But Poe puts a hand on his shoulder and declares with a warm smile :

“No, keep it. It suits you. You’re a good man, Finn, you rescued me and even completed my mission.”

“He’s right,” intervenes Leia, who was quietly talking with Rey a little further in the room. “Rey just told me what happened, and what you did was nothing short of incredible, young man. I know how much the Empire crushes their employees and how hard it is to stand up to them, and yet you risked everything to save a complete stranger. And now you’re bringing us the only thing able to take them down. Thank you, Finn.”

Finn feels himself flush. He has received more praises in the last 3 hours than during the rest of his entire life and he doesn’t quite know how to react. How come they all seem to find him amazing when he doesn’t even know what he is doing, where he is going ? The First Order taught him to always think logically, without emotions, to always stay in the ranks and never stand out. And yet, he’s been acting on impulses since this morning, led by his emotions, and he’s scared out of his mind but he knows he’s doing the right thing. He feels like a bird raised in captivity whose cage was too small to ever fly, but one day the door opens and there is a void beneath, and the bird jumps toward freedom without knowing if he’ll end up flying or falling, and all he can feel in that moment is both terror and exhilaration.

Finn catches Rey’s gaze from the corner of his eyes. Once again she’s looking at him with a fond smile and kind eyes, and seems to understand him without words. And once again, he can’t help but mirror her smile. God, he’s probably acting like those teenagers with a crush in silly high school movies.

Leia clears her throat, startling Finn and Rey, who both blush when they realize that they’ve been staring at each other for a little too long. Poe is trying - and failing - to hide an amused smile.

“Let us see what BB-8 has to offer,” Leia proposes with a wry smile.

They plug the USB stick into her computer and read all the information displayed on screen, dozens of documents attesting to illegal financial transactions, corruption, threats, theft, violations of human rights and other crimes committed by the Empire. Poe explains how he gathered all these proofs over the last months, and everyone is impressed by his work. He really is the best reporter in the country, Finn thinks.

Leia and Poe keep going over the documents while Rey and Finn sit back in the office’s couch. Leia’s secretary briefly enters to give them some coffee, glaring at Rey who offers him a barely apologetic smile. Finn snorts at her attitude, and she turns toward him with a mischievous and delighted grin when she realizes she’s the cause of his barely contained laughter. However, he must also look tired, because Rey’s smile weakens and she quietly asks him if he’s okay.

Finn takes his time before answering. He has run around since morning, survived a bike crash, walked for hours in the city, got knocked down by a girl he realized was his soulmate - not to mention his psychological and emotional stress due to the fact that he’s going against everything he has ever been taught in his life, gave up his only source of income by betraying one of the most powerful companies in the world, and has no idea what his future will be like. And now that the adrenaline rush is finally coming down, he’s exhausted. But he’s sitting on a comfy couch with a warm cup of coffee in his hands, and the most fierce, beautiful girl he’s ever seen is smiling at him, and he’s surrounded by people he helped and who are grateful for it, people who turned “doing the right thing” into a profession, a cause, people who might help him, and for the first time in years he feels hope. So he grins and says :

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Rey seems pleased with his answer, and her smile is soft and blinding like the morning sun peaking out from under the horizon, and he swears her eyes are brighter than the galaxy. Oh boy, is he already that far gone ?

————————-

 Tiredness must have won him over, though, because when Finn wakes up with a start, he realizes he’s been dozing off. He squints a little, his eyes adjusting to the room’s brightness. He notices with confusion that someone covered him with a plaid, and when he looks out the window he realizes night has already fallen. He sits up, alarmed : how long has he been asleep ? why did no one wake him up ? He looks around him and notices that both Poe and Leia aren’t there anymore.

Rey, still sitting next to him and looking seconds away from falling asleep herself, blinks up at him when she feels him move.

“Feeling better ?”

“I fell asleep,” Finn whispers, mortified. “I fell asleep in Leia Organa’s office and no one woke me up !”

“Of course,” Rey answers, apparently amused. She doesn’t seem to get the gravity of the situation at all. “You were exhausted and after everything you went through today, you deserved a break. So we all agreed to let you rest for a while.”

“Oh. That’s– that’s nice.”

It’s quite unsettling to have strangers care more about his well-being than his caretakers did during his childhood, but Finn could get used to it. He shouldn’t, though. He’s helping them against the Empire, but it would be silly to think that they would want him to stick around after everything is over.

“I used to be in your place, you know,” Rey says quietly, interrupting his depressing train of thought. “And I kind of still am.”

“What do you mean ?”

“Being utterly alone. Feeling like you’d never belong anywhere, like no one could ever care about you.”

She’s looking him straight in the eye, and Finn’s breath is taken away by the raw emotion held in her voice. Once again he can feel this connection between them, how deep they understand each other.

Rey just spelled out loud how he felt during most of his life, her words echoing around his heart and digging out his deepest fears and insecurities : the excruciating pain of being abandoned and, worse, unwanted, the nagging feeling of alienation following him everywhere, the pain of not being loved and having no one to love, the distrust of others that ensues. And he can see in Rey’s watery gaze that she felt the same, still feels the same.

Finn can feel himself tear up and on an impulse, he grabs Rey’s hand - maybe he’s seeking comfort, maybe he’s giving it, but he mostly does it because it feels natural. He feels her stiffen at the contact, though, and he’s about to retrieve his hand and profusely apologize when she relaxes under his fingers. She squeezes his hand and Finn intertwines their fingers, relishing in the warm contact. When he glances up at her, Rey is blushing and looking at their joined hands. Holding hands is a simple gesture, yet so powerful and intimate, especially for two love-starved people like them. Rey’s palm is firm and callous under his own, and it helps him speak around the lump in his throat.

“I just… I just don’t want to get my hopes up, you know,” he says, hating how rough and shaky his voice sounds. “It never ends well.”

“I know,” she answers with a sad smile. “But… you don’t have to do this alone anymore. Leia, Han, Poe… they’re all amazing people and I can assure you they won’t ditch you like that. When I had nothing and was no one, they gave me a chance and stood by me. And they’ll do the same with you.”

“Why would they ? They won’t be needing me anymore. There’s no reason to put up with me if I’m useless.”

“Put up with–” Rey looks revolted, and squeezes his hand harder. “Finn. No. You don’t have to be “useful” for people to want to be around you ! You helped Poe and Leia a lot, but they care more about the fact that you’re brave, and kind, and amazing, than what you can or can’t do for them.”

“And what about you ?”

“What about me ?”

“You said they would stand by me. Do you plan to do the same ? It’s totally fine if you don’t, I mean we barely know each other–,” Finn trails, realizing he’s rambling. He’s so nervous he could die, but he needs to know. He needs to know if Rey wants to stick around, or if even his soulmate doesn’t want to have anything to do with him.

Rey keeps their hands intertwined, but turns her face away from him. Finn’s heart sinks, but her next words catch him off guard.

“Do you want me to stick around ?” she asks in a small, insecure voice.

Oh, thinks Finn. He has been so engrossed in his own insecurities that he’s forgotten about Rey’s. He had just assumed that she knew how much he already liked her, but apparently he had been wrong.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” he says with conviction.

“Even if I called you a thief and knocked you down ?”

“Yes.”

She slightly turns her head, still not looking at him but rather at their joined hands. She’s grinning, but then her smile turns sad.

“I’m not… the nicest person. I can be rough, and abrasive, and–” she falls silent, then adds very quietly “I wish my first words to you had been different. Having them tattooed on your skin for so long, it must have been awful.”

Finn isn’t about to tell her how much these words plagued him during his life, especially that he now knows she was just looking out for a friend.

“Hey, don’t beat you up too much about this ok ? It’s all about context. Speaking of, my first words to you weren’t the most eloquent,” he chuckles.

“True,” she snorts. “I spent quite some time wondering why would my soulmate tell me “What ? Thief ?” as an introduction.”

It’s the first time she directly refers to him as her soulmate, and it makes Finn weirdly happy.

“You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

Rey finally turns toward him, blushing.

“I’m not really good at all this… emotional stuff but. Yeah, I’d like to stand by you. I’ve never met someone like you, someone who makes me feel the way I feel around you.”

“Safe and trusting,” he says, because he now knows they feel the same about this.

“Yes,” she answers with a tiny smile.

“You know, I never met someone like you either. Up until now, everyone around me either didn’t care about other people hurting, or were straight up cruel. There was no friendship, no mutual aid. But you’re not like that. You didn’t hesitate to chase down a stranger to get back your friend’s jacket. You dropped everything to help me with this Empire stuff. And you’ve been nothing but supportive. I’m glad we met.”

“I’m glad we met, too. And– not just because of the soulmates thing. You’re genuinely an amazing person, Finn.”

Finn’s heart seems to expand in his chest, and he feels warm all over. Rey’s smile is probably as big as his own, and he doesn’t know how long they stay there, hand in hand, looking into each other’s eyes.

————————-

 The doors suddenly open, giving way to Leia and Poe. The somber look on their faces alarms Finn.

“What is going on ?” he and Rey ask at the same time, rising from the couch. They drop hands, and Finn immediately misses the contact.

Leia sits down on her desk chair, looking tired but furious. Poe mostly looks frustrated. He seems two seconds away to actually start pacing.

“We just came back from talking with our experts and lawyers,” he explains. “We have enough evidence to expose the Empire company, but not enough for it to have real consequences. A lot of powerful people support them, and unless we have something more concrete than administrative documents and a reporter’s investigation reports, they’ll be able to cover it up.”

“But these documents prove they’re criminals,” Rey protests, “how come it’s not enough ?”

“The general public usually doesn’t bother reading articles covering complicated documents and reports,” Leia says. “It will make a little noise then fade into nothing. But unless the Empire’s crimes cause a mass outrage, leading people into openly boycotting them, they’ll be able to sneak around police investigations and other consequences of their actions.”

“We’d need to literally catch them red-handed for them to actually be in trouble”, Poe mutters.

“Well, maybe I can help you with that.”

They all turn toward Finn, intrigued by his words. He takes a deep breath. It’s time to strike down the Empire for good, and he has something that might just be able to do that.

“I recorded a video of Kylo Ren, the Empire’s Vice President, hitting Poe and locking him in a closet against his will. A man as powerful and known as Ren, one of the figureheads of the Empire, attacking and literally kidnapping a journalist ? That’s going to cause a lot of noise.”

“You recorded it ? Finn, you’re a genius !” Poe hugs him and Finn lets out a startled laugh.

“Hey, I’m not even done yet. I worked for this awful company for 5 years. I was low in the chain of command, but I saw and heard most of the nasty things that are going down there. Embezzlement, illegal contracts, bribes to famous politicians… I know details and names. Not to mention the awful and frankly illegal conditions in which their employees have to work. Be it in an article or in court, I can testify. I want to.”

“I won’t lie to you, Finn.” Leia is looking at him with serious but kind eyes. “On top of Poe’s work, this video and your testimony as a former employee will most certainly be enough to take down the firm, at least for a good while. But testifying against them is a big deal, and it could bring you more problems than you already have. So I want you to know that you’re not in any way obliged to do it. You have already done so much for us.”

“Thank you for your concern, Mrs Organa, but I know the Empire better than anyone and this is exactly why I want to testify against them. They’ve hurt so many people and will keep doing it unless someone stops them. I want to help take them down.”

Leia smiles, broad but secretive, and nods.

“Alright. You know, you’d make a good reporter, young man.”

Finn grins at the compliment.

“So ! Does that mean we’re kicking some Empire butt tonight ? Should I call the others to start working on a first draft ?” Poe asks cheerfully.

“Not tonight, no. It’s getting late, and everyone in this office has had a rough day - especially you and Finn. Get a full night of rest, and we’ll start working on it tomorrow morning. Dismiss.”

Poe, Finn and Rey all look at each other, then slowly exit the office. Finn notices with amusement that Poe is actually pouting. He quickly sobers up when he realizes he has nowhere to spend the night, though. He still can’t go back to his room, and he can’t afford to rent anything in a motel. Fortunately, Poe seems to follow the same train of thought.

“You can crash at my place if you want, buddy !”

“Are you sure ? I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s the least I can do after you saved my ass today. You can stay as long as you want.” He claps a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Meet me downstairs, I’m gonna get a cab. Goodnight, Rey ! I guess you’ll swing by the office tomorrow ?”

“You’re guessing right. Goodnight, Poe.”

Poe jogs down the stairs, leaving them waiting for the elevator. Rey nudges him with her shoulder.

“I should have known you had more than one trick up your sleeve.”

“You make me sound like someone who actually knows what he’s doing,” Finn chuckles.

“Well, Mr I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing, when everything is over I bet people will start calling you ‘the Empire Slayer’. I’ll make sure of that,” she smirks.

Finn bursts into laughter.

“That’s a terrible nickname !”

“It’s a great nickname !” she says in an offended tone, but her bright smile is betraying her. “I came up with it myself.”

“And that’s exactly why it’s terrible.”

They’re still laughing when they get into the elevator, and Rey grabs his hand. Finn brushes his thumb over her knuckles, and she tightens her grip on his palm. They only let go of each other once they’re outside and exchanging their phone numbers. Finn opens the door of the cab Poe is already in while Rey gets on her motorbike.

“See you tomorrow ?” he asks with a grin.

“See you tomorrow.”

Her voice is firm and her words sound like a promise. She gives him a last smile, her eyes twinkling, then she puts on her helmet and goes off into the night. Finn gets into the cab and Poe, bless him, smirks but doesn’t comment.

————————-

 They settle for the night. Poe’s apartment is messy but comfy, stacks of paper and boards with articles and pictures pinned on it scattered around the living room. Finn takes the guest room and Poe lends him some clothes - thankfully they are roughly the same size. They eat dinner and spend a few hours chatting easily, Poe being funny and warm and already feeling like a friend.

“I think Rey is head over heels for you,” Poe says with a grin when they’re washing the dishes.

Finn startles and almost drops the plate he’s holding.

“Wh– why would you say that ?”

“I’ve known her for a couple of years, but I’ve never seen her behave the way she does around you. She’s always a little guarded around people, especially strangers, but she’s not like that with you. She’s all open and chatty when you’re around, and god, I never saw her smile as much as today.”

“Really ?”

“Yup. Close that mouth, you look like a fish. And you’re not so much better yourself, I swear there are actual hearts in your eyes every time you look at her.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, his face hot, and Poe laughs heartily.

Finn eventually goes to bed, exhausted after such a day, but he’s pretty sure Poe stays up most of the night to start writing the rough draft of the Resistance’s paper exposing the Empire. Finn falls asleep easily, dreaming of a warm hand in his own and bright, hazel eyes creasing with laughter.

————————-

 The next two days pass in a frenzied blur.

The Resistance’s best journalists - Poe, a woman named Jessika Pava, and Leia Organa herself - get together to write a scalding article exposing the Empire’s illegal maneuvers, piecing together evidence, Poe’s investigation reports and Finn’s testimony. Although not a journalist, Finn helps a lot, and hours pass by quickly, paced by short coffee breaks and Rey’s visits. She swings by between fixing two engines, her overalls still stained with oil and grease under her fingernails, handing out donuts to the hard working reporters (”It’s Han who’s paying for these” she admits with a wink). She always gives Finn an extra doughnut - the strawberry frosted one, his favorite - and he always makes her a cup of coffee. They talk and joke around, but she never stays long because they both have a lot of work to do. Finn thinks he could live like this, working for the right cause in a stimulating environment, with friendly and dedicated colleagues, and Rey swinging by from time to time or texting him silly emoticons.

Eventually, everything is ready. They unleash the video of Kylo Ren assaulting Poe on both YouTube and the Resistance website, and post the article denouncing the Empire minutes after. The hard copies of the newspaper are already printed and on their way to be delivered.

The reaction is immediate. In an hour, the video already has dozens of thousands of views, and the article has been linked and shared thousands of times. People talk about it on every social media, other newspapers have already started writing on the subject, TV channels are covering it and broadcasting the video, and the scandal keeps on blowing up.

The general public is shocked by Ren’s violent behavior, the company’s violations of human rights and their multiple cases of embezzlement. Drowned in calls by journalists and citizens asking if they intend to do anything about it, the police officially declares that they’re starting an investigation on the Empire. Victims of threats, brutality, expulsion, fraud and more, who were previously too scared to take action against the Empire, start filing lawsuits after lawsuits, supported by the public. It gets squirmy in the political sphere, mayors and ministers previously supporting the company not wanting to be associated with them anymore, and disowning them in official press releases. Other powerful firms turn their back on the Empire, already talking about cancelling contracts with them in fear of a potential backlash. By the end of the day, the Empire has lost millions of dollars and thousands of actions in the stock exchange - and it’s just starting.

Finn, Leia, Poe, Jessika and the other journalists monitor everything the entire time, Finn’s enthusiasm and glee growing at every new backlash against the Empire. For the first time he truly is proud of himself, proud of having helped so many people. Hundreds of people call the Resistance, asking for more information about the case and wanting to get interviews with the mysterious ex-employee who had the guts to defy the Empire.

In the evening, everyone at the Resistance takes a break to celebrate. They know the fight is far from over, a company that powerful can’t be destroyed that easily, but this time they’ll be out of the game for a while. Not to mention that with the police investigating them and Leia bent on keeping on digging out dirt on them, their problems are far from over. So the employees pull out some wine and beer to congratulate themselves, and Leia makes a short speech thanking Poe for his hard work and Finn for his vital help, and everyone claps and whoops. A lot of people come up to him to thank him personally, and Finn is embarrassed to be the center of attention, but also happy to have done something great.

Rey is there too, having arrived with Han after closing the shop. Han Solo is a gruff old man who doesn’t seem to like many people aside from Leia, Rey and Chewie (a tall and hairy man who seems to be his best friend), but he claps Finn on the shoulder and tells him “Good job, kid. But don’t get too cocky”.

Both Finn and Rey aren’t that comfortable being surrounded by so many people, so they eventually move to an isolated corner of the room.

“So you did it, uh,” she says with a smile.

“Looks like I did.”

“So, how does it feel ? To beat those who hurt you, who hurt so many people ?”

“It feels great, actually. I feel like for the first time in my life, I made a difference. I did the right thing. I’m… proud of myself. Of all of us.”

“I’m proud of you, too,” she grins.

She has leaned against him and they’re pressed together from shoulder to thigh, and Finn suddenly realizes how close they are. He feels her breath ghosting on his cheek, and can’t help but stare at her mouth. Her lips are pink and still stretched into a smile, and Finn realizes he desperately wants to kiss her. His gaze flickers back to her eyes, and she’s looking at him with intensity, her pupils blown up. His heart beating hard and his stomach twisting in anticipation, Finn leans toward Rey, cupping her jaw with a hand, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. He half expects her to push him back, but she leans into his contact, her lips parting slightly and her eyes fixated on his mouth. They keep getting closer and all Finn can hear is the beating of his own heart, all he can feel is her pulse under his fingers and the pure magnetism between them. He closes his eyes and their lips brush against each other and—

A loud crash suddenly echoes in the room, startling them both. They jump apart, turning toward the commotion. A tall man dressed in black just forcefully entered the room, knocking over a table in a fit of rage. When he turns around, Finn feels his heart stop for a second. The man is none other than Kylo Ren.

————————-

 Finn thankfully never worked directly under Kylo Ren, but the Vice President had always been known within the company for his cruel behavior and his violent outbursts. His visits were always dreaded by the employees, and he managed the company with cold ruthlessness. Finn could remember one of the many instances when the Empire had forcefully acquired a site inhabited by poor families, with the intent of building a new mall on it, but the residents had refused to leave their homes. So Kylo Ren had sent his henchmen to kick them out, brutalizing men and women before demolishing their houses just in front of them. They were sent away with little belongings and money, and nowhere to go even though the Empire had originally promised to grant them temporary housings in light of the site being taken.

And now the same merciless man is in the Resistance’s headquarters, yelling and toppling over furniture in front of the bemused employees.

“Enough !”

Leia has just yelled, startling everyone. If looks could kill, Kylo Ren would be dead meat.

“How dare you storm into my office like that, breaking my shit and threatening my employees ?” she goes on, her voice low but shaking with anger. Finn has never seen her so upset.

“How dare you slander my company like that,” Ren answers in a loud voice. “Do you know how hard I worked for it ? How powerful we had managed to become ? And you just ruined everything !”

“Do not raise your voice at me, Ben ! You made your own choices, bad ones, and it’s time you reap what you sowed.”

“My name is Kylo Ren”, he says slowly, burning with rage. “When will you get that into your damn head ?”

“Show some respect to your mother, you punk !” Han intervenes, placing himself in front of Leia who seems on the verge of losing her calm and slapping Kylo– no, Ben.

Finn has never been so confused. Kylo Ren, the son of the great Leia Organa ? He would have never seen that one coming. He turns toward Rey.

“Did you know about that ?”

“Not really,” she shrugs. “I mean, I knew they had a son. But the few times they talked about him, they always referred to him as Ben. I didn’t know Ben Solo and Kylo Ren were the same person.”

“Damn.”

“He’s such a jerk. If he keeps yelling at Leia I’m going to kick his ass.”

Finn can only agree with her. He has feared Ren for a long time, but now all he feels toward him is disdain and anger. The man is selfish and evil, and as an orphan Finn can’t fathom how he could have turned his back on his family just to seek more power.

It’s as if Kylo Ren heard them talking about him though, because he suddenly snaps his head toward them and spots Finn in the crowd. His face twists in fury.

“You !” he yells, pointing a shaking finger at him. “Traitor !!”

He stomps to Finn, stopping just in front of him. Finn feels Rey tense next to him, and briefly touches her arm to tell her to calm down. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Poe making his way toward them, looking equally furious. Everyone is watching them, waiting for something to happen. Some people even whipped out their phone and are filming the whole scene, and a few journalists who seem to have followed Ren all day slip into the room, mics and cameras at the ready. Finn knows shit is about to go down, and he’s ready for it.

“You have something to say to me ?” he asks, lifting his chin. This Kylo dude is really tall.

“After everything the Empire did for you,” Ren spits, “this is how you thank us ? With betrayal and collusion ?”

“What should I thank you for ? For the crushing work, the constant psychological pressure, the illegally small pay ? For threatening me and other employees into doing your dirty work ? For ruining everyone’s lives just to gain more money and power ?”

“You pathetic, little–”

“It’s over, Ren. You’re done. Even if the Empire survives, your reputation as an influential man is tarnished forever thanks to that video. You should really watch that temper of yours. I heard Snoke is already considering dropping you,” he adds with a smirk. “Now that you don’t have any political or financial influence, I guess he doesn’t need you anymore.”

Kylo Ren finally loses it and lashes out, grabbing him by the collar. He tries to punch him but Finn grabs his fist, twisting it painfully until Kylo loses balance and falls hard on the floor. He tries to get up, though, still wanting to hurt Finn, but Rey viciously pushes him back on the floor.

“Touch him and you’re a dead man,” she says through clenched teeth, looking more furious than Finn has ever seen her.

The police suddenly barges into the room, making their way to Kylo Ren and lifting him up before handcuffing him.

“Wh– what are you doing ??” he screams, trashing against them. “Do you know who I am ?”

“We know exactly who you are. Kylo Ren, or should I say Ben Solo, you are under arrest for multiple crimes. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and may be used against you,” recites one of the policemen while dragging him away.

“You can’t do this ! Mom ! Please, you can’t let them do this !”

Leia only sighs and sits down on a chair, looking weary. She doesn’t say anything as the police finally gets Kylo out of the room, a trail of journalists following them to record everything. A few of them even stay behind to ask Leia and Han questions about their son, but are quickly chased away by Poe.

“Damn,” Poe says, standing next to Finn and Rey. “I would’ve liked to hit him in the face, but watching him get arrested just after his company crumbled down is also a nice payback.”

Finn blinks, then starts laughing, and laughing, and laughing. Poe and Rey eye him with concern, but he can’t seem to stop. He feels like the heavy burden that weighted on his shoulders for the last few years has been lifted up - and it’s a dazing sensation.

“I’m free from the Empire,” he eventually declares, still chuckling. “I’m free.”

“Yes you are,” says Rey.

She’s looking at him with fondness and adoration, and he feels like his heart is about to burst. Elated, he suddenly picks her up by the waist and spins her around, making her laugh. Then he puts her down and kisses her full on the mouth.

Rey’s lips are soft and she tastes like black coffee, and it’s the most wonderful sensation Finn has ever experienced. Rey grabs him by the collar without breaking the kiss, pulling him even closer. She kisses like she behaves, sometimes hard and rough, sometimes slow and sweet, and Finn feels light-headed. He doesn’t know how long they kiss, but he eventually hears Jessika Pava yell :

“Get a room, lovebirds !”

They finally separate, blushing and smiling, and a couple of employees whistle. Then Finn notices Leia walking toward them.

“I see you’re having fun, you two,” she says with a smirk, making them squirm in embarrassment under her gaze. “It’s good. You deserve each other.”

“Um, thank you Mrs Organa,” he answers, not really knowing what to say.

“How many times did I tell you to call me Leia ?” she gently chides him. “Rey, excuse us a moment but I need to talk to Finn privately.”

“Okay. I’ll be here when you come back,” Rey tells him.

He nods and follows Leia out of the room, into the quiet corridor. He’s quite anxious about what she has to tell him. Is she about to send him away, now that he has done his part ?

“Once again, I want to thank you for your precious help, Finn. You were in no obligation to help, but you put yourself in danger to rescue Poe, and without your testimony and the video you recorded the Empire would still be strong today.”

“I did what I had to do, no need to thank me for that. Most people would have done the same.”

“No, they wouldn’t have.” Leia shakes her head. “Believe me, it’s way easier to let something bad happen in front of us than actually try to do something about it. You know, we could use someone like you around here.”

“What do you mean ?”

“You have a lot of potential, Finn. The need to expose the truth, to re-establish justice, to help people, it’s what makes a good journalist. Diving head first into danger to get sensitive information, and never stepping back in front of powerful adversaries… that’s what makes a great reporter. And you have all these qualities. So, Finn. Would you like to work for the Resistance ?”

Finn blinks. Blinks again. Leia Organa can’t possibly be offering him a job right now.

“Um. Is this… is this a serious offer ?”

“Yes it is. I think you would be a great addition to our team. Dameron and Pava agree, they said that you had great input for the article, and that they never saw someone learn the job so fast. I also looked at your résumé–”

“You did ??”

“– and it is very impressive,” she goes on, ignoring his interruption. “You results in high school are exceptional and all your teachers describe you as hard-working and dedicated. I would be glad to offer you a paid internship, which might lead to a permanent contract if things go well - and I don’t doubt they will.”

Finn stays quiet, his mind whirring. Can he work for the Resistance ? Should he ? Leia keeps talking, maybe misinterpreting his silence.

“Of course, this is not an obligation. Maybe you would want to go to college instead, or take a well-deserved break from all of this - I don’t know. But know that the choice is yours.”

It’s a lot to take in and Finn gives himself a few minutes to ponder, even if he already knows what he wants to do. He’s been told earlier that he would get paid for his contribution to the Resistance’s case against the Empire, enough money for him to rent a new place and go on vacation for a while, something he never had the luxury to do. But his life completely turned around in a few days, and he doesn’t feel like resting just yet. He wants to discover more things, to right his wrongs, to spend more time with Rey and Poe. For the first time, he thinks he could actually belong somewhere. He has never felt more in his element than during the couple of days he spent working with the Resistance, and he wants to keep on doing that.

“I want to take the paid internship,” he finally says. “But I’ve also always wanted to go to college. I want to do both, actually.”

“It won’t be a problem, we’ll just have to adjust schedules.” Leia smiles. “Welcome to the Resistance, young man.”

Finn grins and nods.

“Thank you, Leia.”

————————-

 He’s on the roof of the Resistance’s building, Rey by his side. From where they’re standing, the view of the city is breathtaking, the setting sun drowning the landscape in a golden light. For the first time, Finn feels at peace.

Rey has her eyes closed, head slightly tipped back to better feel the warmth of the sun. Finn can’t help but stare, taking in everything : her messy buns, her fluttering eyelids, the slender line of her throat, her small but strong hands gripping the railing. She opens her eyes and looks straight at him, grinning, and Finn flusters.

“What are you smiling at ?” he asks.

“You,” she answers, brushing his fingers with her own. “What are you looking at ?”

“You.”

She blushes and he smiles. Her hand is still tentatively skimming over his own, so he grabs it, intertwining their fingers. They lean against each other, warm and pliant, and for the first time in his life, Finn is truly, blissfully happy.

He has hope.

[kairoskrp]

                                 — On the wicked wings of time, thy kingdom comes

Meet [ Song Qian ]

She is a [ twenty-four year old  [ owner of allure nightclub & doctor at hyejong medical clinic ] currently residing in [ skyhall apartments, # 703  ]. Visit  and greet  her today!

Personality:

Victoria is extremely playful, and incredibly smart. Growing up being fed by a silver spoon, she didn’t really encounter hardship, at all really. This leads to her having not only a playful personality, but someone that lives without consequence. She’s a very in-the-moment type person. Unfortunately, this also means that she’s quite naive to the bad of the world, only seeing the good. Because of her spirit, she’s a die hard romantic. She’s a firm believer of true love, and will stop at nothing to help people obtain it, all the while searching for herself. However, being the Goddess of Love, she herself finds herself giving her heart away all too often. Though she’s been through breakups, one in particular struck a chord with her. She hasn’t been the same since. The sweet, carefree Victoria is now gone. Now in her place is a provocative vixen who’s only goal  is a good hookup. But, somewhere, deep deep inside, is still that young girl, desperately waiting for her true love to come along and free her.

Spirit: Aphrodite

Powers: Love Manipulation

Strengths

enhanced natural charm and charisma. Those around her will naturally feel a pull towards her, but unless she's directly trying to seduce them or charm them, they won't feel that kind of attraction once she leaves. She can also meddle and cause people to fall in love with each other (kind of like cupid, if you will) but as she kind of has a sense of who are destined to be with each other (she kind of sees a red string of fate, if you will, but it's more instinct than a physical line), she won't meddle unless she's 100% sure that those people are supposed to be with each other. 

Weakness

There are still those who are immune to her charms. Those who have found their true soulmate, and her soulmate as well. Her soulmate won't feel that over-the-top connection that most people do, but they would definitely feel an attraction. However, they won't be infatuated with her beyond sense. They would still hold the ability to make their own decisions, to hurt her, or to leave the relationship.

falls easily in love.

Biography:

i.

Victoria Song has the incredible fortune of being born into an incredibly wealthy family. Everyone, from her grandparents to her parents to her great aunt Mai who’s twice removed, is or is immediately related to a medical practitioner. Victoria herself is born of the love between two specialists: a cardiologist and a neurosurgeon.

From the moment she is carefully pushed out of the womb, to when she leaves their mansion years later, she knows that she is in capable, loving hands.

ii.

She is now 5 years old, and it’s Victoria’s first day of school. Shakily, she takes careful steps to the front of the door, her mother’s hand clutched tightly. She looks up at her mother with big, puppy eyes, not wanting to let go. Mommy coos at her little girl, before giving her a kiss on the cheek and gently ushering her inside, with the promise that if she behaves, Victoria will get another toy to play with in the jacuzzi of her en suite bathroom. Nodding like the good girl she is, Victoria takes a brave little step inside the classroom.

Having the spirit of Aphrodite entwined in your soul with has multitudes of gifts. One of which, was the natural charisma and charm you exhibit. Immediately, kids flock to Victoria, taking a liking to the young girl. Looking back, she wasn’t sure why she was so worried. She had never had a problem with someone not liking her. Why would it start now?

iii.

She’s had small glimpses of her previous life, little scenes of a loving smile and beautiful jewellery adorning her skin, however she just plays it off as strange deja vu. As she opens her locker, another love letter flutters out. Victoria smiles gently and picks it up, reading the sweet words and that paper contained. At 15 years old, girls were no longer “icky” and boys were taking interest. For the boys that had the fortune of attending school with Victoria, they felt a particularly strong pull as her started to grow into her body, and her face started looking sharper, and more elegant with each passing day.  The Goddess of Love. It’s a given that she’d be breathtaking, is it not?

Happily, she glides over to the boy who signed the small slip of paper, flashing him a warm smile before linking arms and walking to class with him, missing the flash of hurt that overtook the expression of the boy who stood at her locker that had given her a note the previous day. Girls called her a slut, and boys became bitter and angry once she had moved on, but somehow they couldn’t stay mad at the happy, aloof girl. It’s not that she tries to float around and lead people on. She does love them, all of them. Victoria has never been anything buy genuine when it comes to love. Their time together is short, but Victoria cherishes it as if it was the only love she would ever come across in her entire life. But deep inside, however much she may want them to be, she knows that they are not the one that’s truly meant for her. And that exactly is the problem.

iv.

Some time has passed. She’s finished university and med school early, due to an accelerated program and her parent’s guidance. She doesn’t mind, though. She loves it. She loves caring and helping people. But her academics aren’t the only thing that’s flourished. Victoria has moved on from her casual highschool flings and has finally found someone that she truly loves with all her heart, someone who may be that true love she has searched so long for. They share kisses and proclamations of love. Lying in each other’s embrace, what couldn’t they do? The two are hopelessly in love, and so deeply so. Things are going good.

She’s a doctor at one of her family’s clinics, a cardiologist, just like her mom. She had been carefree and happy her whole life. Never would she have guessed that things would come crashing to and end. What used to be sweet nothings are now harsh words and accusations. Soft touches become harsh grips, and little kisses that used to be thrown across the room are now small pieces of furniture. She’s not sure how they could’ve gotten to this point, but nonetheless, it fucking hurts. It hurts to know that someone she loved more than life itself would now be the one to inflict such pain on her. It hurts to know that she wasn’t good enough.

Hundreds of hearts broken throughout the years of her little flings, and now, she would finally know how it felt to be on the receiving end. As she watches another picture of the previously happy couple shatter on the ground, she feels something inside her break as well. Funny how she’s specialized in cardiovascular disease, when it seems like her heart is the only thing that she doesn’t know how to fix.

v.

Things are… different now. She no longer smiles, rather, there’s a permanent smirk on her face. Men are no longer there for love and cuddles. They’re play things, a quick fuck before she moves on once again. She still works at the same clinic, a way to qualm her parent’s pleas in midst of her spiral down to rock bottom, however, she’s taken it upon herself to open a nightclub. The air is hazy, and smoke fills the air. Sin clings to the walls, and refuses to let go. Women dance on poles and stages places around the area. The once innocent, love struck girl is locked deep inside, nursing her broken heart as the woman on the outside nurses another drink. It seems like a tough exterior, but really, it’s just a cry for help, for those who only love, those who give away every bit of their heart and soul, are those who are damaged and empty, left alone to repair their broken hearts in the rubble.

[blushoseoks]

GREY AREA. (M) | 06

“And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.

cr.

"I think that friendship is as powerful as true romantic love. And I think that friendship can save you, and heal the parts of you that you didn’t know were broken, and change your life.” - Sarah J Maas

→  Pairing: Yoongi/Reader →  Word Count: 11,085 →  Genre/Warnings: Soulmate AU, Angst →  Chapter Index

ADDITIONAL WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: suicide is sort of insinuated.

You let out a low sigh at the vibration of your phone going off, this seeming to be the millionth time it had sounded and you were beginning to lose your patience.

You had rolled over from your side to where you laid flatly on your back, the never ending vibrations had ripped you from your slumber, something that not even Taehyung was brave enough to do.

In a groggy and half asleep state, you had grabbed your phone and scrolled through the various notifications. Most of them being a handful of text messages, ranging from Yoona's gossip, Namjoon's never ending suspicions of where you had been the past week, and finally Taehyung and Hoseok's worried texts.

You had been to class – with the exclusion of English, because even as your heart was surely broken, you couldn't afford to miss any tests or lessons. But for the past week your life was like a never ending cycle filled with the same routine of:

waking up, getting dressed, going to class, and afterward you'd walk straight home, venture straight into your room, do any homework that needed to be finished, ate enough to stay alive, hydrated yourself and then went to bed. Even if it was only six in the evening.

You hadn't been to English class the entire week, not trusting yourself to see Yoongi this soon into your heartbreak. Your grade was the best in that class, and you were sure you'd be able to catch up if need be. You could afford to skip a few lessons.

With an exhausted sigh you let your phone fall to your bedsheets, ignoring everyone for the time being. You didn't have class today, you never did on Thursday's.

You had spent the past few days, when not at school, staring blankly at your walls. Or your ceiling, laying in your bed. Trying to search for answers that just weren't there. You wanted to know why you had been paired with someone who wanted nothing to do with you. You wanted to learn of what you had done to make the Universe so angry with you, to give you such an outcome.

Was it supposed to be some sort of test? And if so, just how were you to pass it?

But your thoughts hadn't been answered, not one of them.

You hadn't cried since the first night. Hadn't cried nearly as much as you should have, you are perfectly well aware of that. It was once again, like your body refused to let you cope or understand what had actually occurred. You knew that you had been rejected by one you were fated to be with, that much was clear, but it was as though it hadn't fully registered in your brain yet. Like your body wouldn't allow you to fully process the situation in fear of what it may do to you.

So in result, you had done it again, pushed it away. The pain, the honesty of the ordeal, chose to ignore it instead of dealing with it. It was going to come back to bite you in the ass sooner or later.

And judging by how on edge you had been the past few days, the smallest of things irritating you to the extremes, the aforementioned was going to come about soon enough.

The night of the most recent argument, it was like you couldn't stop crying. You're sure that the remainders of alcohol in your body and your lack of sobriety had been at fault for how your emotions had leaked out of you, or half at fault, at least.

It was like every inch of water inside of your being was rushing out of your eyes, streaking down your cheeks and ruining every bit of makeup covering your face. You had clutched your bedsheets, screamed into your pillows, and almost made yourself sick.

Your cries had only quietened when hours had passed and the door belonging to your shared apartment was opened, and in stumbled your housemates, who you were positive were quite drunk.

You had cried until you had cried yourself to sleep.

Waking hours later, with a horrid hangover, but the pain in your head was no match for the one in your chest. You were positive that you had cried out all of the tears inside of your body that night.

And even though you had been somewhat active, going to class, taking care of yourself – if hardly eating and sleeping in your spare time could be considered of sorts, it wasn't enough to stop your friend's from observing your odd behavior and worrying.

So today was the day, even if you'd rather curl up under your blankets and not move, that you'd force yourself out of your bed and get out of your apartment.

Today was the day, it had to be - or Taehyung would start asking questions, start poking his head in more, start trying to rip answers out from you – so, reluctantly you had come to the conclusion that today you'd start to pick the pieces up. Slowly, but surely. You were going to repair what had been broken.

If it was possible.

How were you going to pick up the pieces if you hadn't fully allowed yourself to feel the devastation of a reality where you were unloved by your other half? Or well, one of your other halves. A third of you, maybe?

So as you slid out of bed, you decided that the first thing on the agenda was to shower, because you could not recall the last time you had done so, and then you were to get out of the apartment, your destination unknown.

Perhaps you'd go to the bookstore that sat in between the often visited cafe, and the flower shop you adored because of the pretty smells that filled your nostrils whenever you passed by.

You weren't, however, looking forward to human interaction. You loved your friend's, more than words could describe, but you weren't ready to be bombarded with questions that you knew they'd ask if you were to see them so soon. You hadn't fully decided what your excuse would be, unsure that the sick alibi could be believed.

So maybe, today would just be a you day.

The ignoring human interaction part was clearly not going to happen today, not when you had opened your bedroom door to find two bodies in the kitchen. Both of them belonging to your roommates.

Taehyung who was inside of the kitchen, slim body leaning over the surface of the counter, while Hoseok had been sitting in one of the barstools at the kitchen counters. At the sound of movement coming from the direction of your bedroom, two pairs of eyes had turned to stare at you, and all conversation had ceased.

It made you uneasy, how on sync they silenced. The feeling of interrupting something drifted in the air around you.

You blink.

Taehyung's movement of bringing the brim of a coffee mug to his lips had stilled when his eyes landed on you, and Hoseok's sentence had been discontinued, his mouth now hanging open.

Gathering from their reactions, it seemed that they too, had not expected you to leave your room today.

You offer them the best smile you can muster up as you walk towards the direction of the kitchen. Pausing suddenly when you're standing next to the barstool Hoseok is sitting in. Your left hand moving so your palm presses under his chin. You raise your eyebrows as your eyes connect.

“Hoseok honey,” you state,  and then you move your palm upwards causing his mouth to shut. “Don't let your mouth hang open, you'll catch flies.”

You offer a playful wink, hoping that the comment will help to lessen the tension in the room. Afterward, you walk further into the kitchen and directly over to the refrigerator.

You can sense the muted conversation going on behind your back as you grab the bottle of orange juice, setting it on the counter before closing the refrigerator.

“Y/N,” Hoseok says a moment later. You turn around and walk to stand next to where Taehyung is, reaching for a pale blue colored mug sitting in the drying rack.

“Yes?” You ask, eyes flashing to his and then to Taehyung's momentarily, not being able to register what sort of question is in his eyes. You turn then, trying to get their worried stares out of your mind as you make your way back to where the carton of juice is waiting to be used.

“You..” he wavers, and although your back is to him, you can practically see the millions of questions in form of expressions appearing on his features. “Okay?” He finishes.

You wait until you've poured yourself a mug full of orange juice, wait until you've returned the carton back to it's place in the refrigerator, before spinning around on your heel and coming face to face with two of your closest friends.

You raise your eyebrows, a smile tugging at the corner your lips as you reply.

“I'm okay.” You say, nodding slowly. Your response enticing a smile to spread its way across Hoseok's lips. And even though he's smiling, you can tell that he doesn't fully believe you. But, he knows he's not as close to you as Taehyung is, and that pestering you won't do any good.

“Good,” he responds a moment later, smile still visible. “I missed you.”

His words cause a warm feeling to spread through your being, and then he takes a glance towards Taehyung who asks him with the lift of his eyebrows, a silent question. It reminds you of your parents, how well they can communicate without actually speaking.

“I'm glad you're feeling better Y/N.” Hoseok states as he slowly pushes himself out of the chair and into a standing position.

It takes you only a few seconds to respond, eyes settled on his. “Me too.”

You can see how genuine he is by the way he stops and continues to stare at you for a few moments, as if soaking the scene of you appearing to be okay, in.

And then he is mumbling something about needing to use the restroom, but you're smarter than that, you know the truth. This was an excuse to leave Taehyung and you alone.

Your eyes study the material of the fabric covering Hoseok's back as he starts to walk out of the room, and you wish that he'd stay, because as long as he was in the room, the longer you were safe from prodding and curiosity.

But if Hoseok senses your silent pleas, he doesn't do anything about them as he turns the corner.

“So,” Taehyung says when Hoseok's back is out of sight. He pushes his weight fully against the kitchen island, long arm sliding across the surface, as he holds his head up with his palm. His eyes linger far too long on yours, as if he's waiting for answers. His eyes drag down to the bags under yours, and his lips curve to the side at the sight. “Are you really okay?”

You nod your head almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, your bottom lip disappearing into your mouth as you begin to suck on it slowly. Nerves shouting through you loudly.

You bring the mug up to your lips to take a small swallow, not knowing exactly what to say.

“Y/N,” he says, his tone suddenly serious. “Are you?” His eyebrows raise as his eyes meet yours again. “You've hardly left your room this entire week, and it's starting to worry me. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Again you nod your head, setting the coffee cup down on the kitchen countertop. “I know Tae, I do. I'm okay. Just--” You stop suddenly, seeming to be at a loss for words. You didn't want to lie, you disliked it, especially doing it to Taehyung. “been down in the dumps as of recent.”

You watch as his lips purse together, as his eyebrows pull towards one another, he clearly doesn't believe you.

He sets his own mug down, as he straightens his body upwards. This causing him to intimidate you a bit more. But if it was Taehyung's intention to scare you into honesty, it was never going to work. Especially when he had the personality traits of a yellow butterfly. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“But like I've said, you hardly left the apartment all week, you haven't returned phonecalls, you've isolated yourself. I'm worried.”

“I'm getting out today, Taehyung.” You blurt out, causing Taehyung's eyebrows to furrow together. “Going to go out, maybe visit the book store. And actually I – I have plans with Jungkook.” You lie blatantly.

This causes him to blink as a curious expression starts to slide across his facial features. He studies your face, as if to make sure you're telling the truth. “Jungkook,” he questions after a moment, “why Jungkook?”

You push the cup to your lips again, letting your eyes falter from your friend to the orange liquid in the cup.

“Going to help me study, y'know – Psychology.” Is the response you offer as you tilt the cup back and let the liquid into your mouth.

He pauses again, white teeth making an appearance only to slide across his bottom lip, head tilting a bit.

“But are you sure you're okay--”

You outstretch a free arm, your hand skirting around his forearm, giving him a reassuring squeeze as you swallow the liquid inside of your mouth.

You keep eye contact as you speak as firmly as you can. “I promise, Taehyung, I am absolutely okay. I am better.” You pronounce each word as clear as you can, steering away from contractions, hoping that it'll help make your statement plausible.

His eyes don't leave yours as he studies them, and you are sure that you see something flash in his orbs. Something resembling sadness, the sight causes something inside of you to drop.

“Alright.” He simply states, head nodding achingly slowly. You remove your hand then, offering him a short and small smile.

“Just do me a favor?” He asks a moment later.

“Anything.” You state.

He hesitates once more, this time he's the one who extends an arm and rests it onto your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze, mimicking your actions from a few seconds prior.

“Y/N,” he says seriously. “Shower first, you fucking stink.”

The moments the words leave his mouth, a wide smile stretches across his face. In response, you offer him a glare so dirty, that his eyes widen in surprise, a handful of rushed out apologies slipping past his lips as he darts out of the kitchen. “It was a joke, I promise!” Echoing in the air as he leaves.

You let out a slow chuckle as you watch him run and a moment later you fish out your phone, ignoring everyone's messages, and immediately clicking on Namjoon's contact name. Sending a quick text asking for Jungkook's number.

It takes him a matter of moments to reply with the number and a response of:

“Where on Earth have you been this week?”

You shoot back a text of:

“Up to my neck in homework, I'm sorry.”

And then you open a new message, composing something along the lines of:

“Free, today. How about I take you up on your offer to help me study? This is Y/N by the way.”

It only takes moments for you to get a reply.

“Six sound okay?”

It had been raining. It was evident in the drenched pavement of the sidewalk you were walking down, clear in the color of gray that floated through Seoul. The smell of wet, lingered in the air - something you had always been fond of.

Pedestrians gripped onto umbrellas as they walked ahead or behind you, even though the rain had let up.

You didn't mind this sort of weather, not when it reflected your mood like it had today.

Your feet move slowly along the sidewalk as you avoid puddles, the events of earlier this morning replaying in your head on a loop.

You were trying to figure out just what it was that you had seen in Taehyung's eye, why was he sad? Surely it wasn't because of your state lately, but in all honesty, you wouldn't have put it past him. Taehyung's big heart often got the best of him, and he allowed people in too closely, far too easily. He gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, and him, being upset because you were upset, was not so hard to believe.

You had been out for a few hours, visiting the cafe at first and buying a lemonade with pretty colors – a mixture of yellows, pinks, and oranges. You had thought that drinking the fruity and nicely colored drink would somehow be appealing to your insides. Like the colors could magically overtake the sadness and turn it happy.

If you were crazy, you would have stated that it worked.

The second place you had visited was in fact the book store. The scent of old books making itself known as soon as you walked into the quaint shop. This too, another smell that you enjoyed a lot.

The bookstore, though small, was filled and pack with books. Shelves outlined the entire store, books were crammed together, and stacked in piles on tables of oak everywhere. It's number of books reminded you of a library.

“Y/N!” The owner of the shop, an older lady by the name of Asami had called in your direction as you walked through the door.

The call of your name had made you smile in response, throwing an arm up as you waved in her general direction.

It was clear in the way the owner had called your name that you were indeed a regular. You had felt a pull to her the moment you met her, because she reminded you of your mom. Older, wise, her voice soft whenever she spoke. And unlike most adults and teenagers nowadays, she still believed that books were essential to living.

Just like you. Just like your mom.

She was married to a man who was as polite and as kind as her. His name was Takumi, and they had been married for twenty five years. They both had been born in Korea, but that did not stop them from traveling the entire world.

They'd told you multiple times about their adventures, about the places they'd visited and the people they had met. They had shown you countless photographs, and were able to describe the displays of each country, or state, they had traveled to.

You wanted to do that, travel.

Your plan, after college, was to do just that.

And even though Korean was their native tongue, they both could speak several languages. The one that interested you the most was French.

For one, it wasn't as hard to learn as the English language, and for two, in your opinion it was beautiful.

“Takumi not here today?” You had asked as you walked up to the register desk of which Asami was standing behind.

“Afraid not, fell off the ladder the other day while trying to dust the top of the shelves, twisted his ankle, the klutz.”

Your lips part as you make a, “sss,” sound. “I'm sorry to hear about that, is he okay?”

“Yeah, he's just a big baby.” She stated, giggling while she spoke.

“I'm actually very glad you stopped by today, because we got some.”

Your eyes had widened at that.

“Don't you dare lie to me – did you really?”

A smile slipped onto her lips as she nodded. “Oh c'mon, Y/N, you know I'd never lie to you about books.”

“Show me, please!” You exclaimed eagerly.

Months ago, after finishing Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami, you had become obsessed with the author. You had scouted all over Seoul, in search of any other book by him, only to end up empty handed. You had pleaded to Takumi and Asami, that if anyone had ventured in wanting to trade or sell anything by Haruki, to buy it and that you'd pay them double.

She turns around then, crouching down and searching for something she had hidden behind a bunch of other items. When she turns back around and stands up, it's with two books in her hands. Both of them being by Haruki Murakami. Going by the titles of, “1Q84,” and the other, “Sputnik Sweetheart,” of which Namjoon highly praised.

“Oh my god!” You had squealed, maybe a bit too loudly, but Asami was not complaining. She too had actually squealed with you.

“How much do I owe you for them?” You ask as you discarded your backpack and began to unzip it, only to cease your actions when she stopped you with words.

“Absolutely nothing.” She said, causing your eyes to fly up to hers, an incredulous expression working its way onto your face.

“What – no. I'm definitely paying you for--”

“Y/N. You are a college student, a kind girl who enjoys books. I'm not going to accept a dime from you. So either, you take them for free or you don't get them at all.” She said with a firm look on her sweet face.

And after a few more retorts of playful bickering you had finally accepted the generous gift, and took both of them, enjoying the way both books felt under your fingertips.

After thanking her more times than you could count, you then had waved goodbye to her, promising to return soon.

After your visit to the book store, you had then ventured to a nearby bench as you walked down a sidewalk that was entirely encircled by cherry trees that were just beginning to blossom. You had wiped the bench off before sitting and admiring the view. And this was a sight you would never be able to get used to seeing.

A view so enticing that words and no picture could do it justice.

And you sat there for the next few hours. Studying the tree's, observing people as they passed, and reading the first few chapters of Sputnik Sweetheart.

When the alarm on your phone went off, signaling that it was near six you had began to pack up your belongings, and then reread the text message Jungkook had sent you with directions to his apartment.

You liked where Taehyung, Hoseok's and your apartment was located, because it was as though you were within walking distance of anything, Jungkook's being included.

And with one last look over your shoulder, soaking in the sight of tree's, you turned back around, heading to where the directions sent you. You found yourself thinking, as you walked down the concrete, that getting out of the house was a good idea.

Against your thoughts, arriving at Jungkook's was not the least bit awkward, in fact, if a stranger had walked into his apartment, it would have been hard for them to realize that you two hadn't been friend's for a long time.

Jungkook lived in an apartment building, about twenty or thirty minutes away from yours if you walked. By car, it was considerably less, depending on traffic.

He lived in a good neighborhood near the University, on the third floor.

Upon entering the apartment, you're met with a small but comfortable appearing living room. Furnished with a black leather couch, a matching in color recliner, and a glass table sitting in between the two pieces of furniture. A tv sat on the far wall directed in front of the furniture.

Standing in the living room you're able to see the kitchen, a table along with four chairs surrounding it. And you find yourself wondering how Jungkook, a sophomore in college, could afford an apartment of this size, and still have money for the furnishing. But you keep your questions at bay for the time being.

You were both sitting in the living room, on the carpeted floor rather than the sofa or chair, because for someone reason you always found yourself being able to concentrate better on the floor.

“So, why did you decide to take Psychology anyway?” Jungkook inquires, a moment later. Shutting his Psychology book as he pushes it on the glass table sat in front of him. You two had been studying for nearly three hours, and who knew that staring at a bunch of words, could make your body feel so exhausted? His dark eyebrows raise upwards as he questions, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

Your small in stature body is situated with your legs crossed, your textbook, which you close as soon as he does his, is sat on your lap. He is to your right, on a different side of the table.

“Well..” You say, allowing your sentence to trail off as you start to glance around the living room. It's somewhat empty, excluding the living room set, is a bookshelf in the corner of the room and a few pieces of artwork aligning the wall. Ones you've never seen before.

The first is a picture of what seems to be the outline of a woman's body. One of the woman's breasts is showing, and her backside is revealed, painted in a green-gray color. The background of the painting a dark maroon.

The painting makes your cheeks turn a bright pink, your eyes immediately moving to the canvas beside it.

The second painting is much more modest. It's a simple drawing of two arms entwined, the hands holding and the fingers interlocked. You're about to ask Jungkook where he purchased the paintings, but when your eyes come across the third painting only finding it unfinished, your question drifts.

It's a drawing of a heart, and not the cartoon like heart, but a real beating heart. It's the one that captivates you the most due to the state of it, and the details you're able to make out from where you sit.

You suddenly stand up, pushing your book to the ground as you venture closer, wanting to get a better look at the painting. Jungkook's question fading as you stalk closer to the portrait, stopping only a few inches in front of it.

Your eyes travel from uncolored aorta, a small amount of red shaded around the area, it's location near the top of the muscle, to the left ventricle, where it too is colored red, but a shade darker, resembling a burgundy. And finally to the unfinished drawing of the blood vessels at the bottom.

“Wow.” You say, at a loss for wrods. Your arms crossing over your chest as each hand grasps either elbows on the opposite arm. You turn around to find Jungkook's eyes settled on yours, a nervous expression written across his face.

“Your work?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He nods, his nose scrunching up after a second. “Yeah, I didn't want to hang them up, especially the heart since it's not entirely done, but Yoongi-hyung insisted-”

At the sound of his name your body seems to crumble a bit. Your heart beat quickening.

“that I should, said I could finish it anytime even though he preferred it unfinished for some weird reason.”

You hesitate, nodding along to his words. “Yoongi?” You ask, and you wince at the sound of your own voice venturing out a little awkwardly.

He narrows his eyes, but doesn't question it. “Yeah, we live together. Have since last year.”

And you should have figured, to be honest. The both of them were friend's after all, and like you noted earlier, there was no way Jungkook could afford an apartment of this size by himself.

You don't know what to say, so you just nod, walking back to where you sat earlier and taking a seat in the exact same spot.

“I'm glad he was able to convince you to hang them up, you're very talented.”

He offers you a genuine smile as your hands hold onto each other, the pad of your thumb rubbing around the back of your opposite hand.

For a brief moment you wonder if Yoongi is home. But surely if he was, he would have wandered into the living room at some point, wouldn't he have?

“So, why did you take Pyschology?” He asks a moment later, repeating his question from earlier.

“Well,” you say, silently thanking Jungkook for asking a question that could divert your attention easily.

“I've always had a knack for writing. And, as strange as it sounds, I've always enjoyed people watching. I guess taking Psychology, I thought, would help me become a better writer. Would somehow be able  to give my future readers insights to a certain character. I want them to be able to know what the character is feeling just by the way they are sitting – and this all sounds so ludicrous now that I'm allowing the words out into the open.”

You lift one of your hands to your hair, pushing the straightened yet somewhat unruly strands backwards, hoping to arrange them into a somewhat presentable way. A feeling of embarrassment washing through your being.

Jungkook shakes his head, his smile that you're growing to be quite fond of, still in place. “Absolutely not, actually it's quite admirable.”

His sentence catches you off guard, enough to entice a snort and the raise of your eyebrows. “Admirable?” you ask, “And why's that?”

His arms raise upwards towards the roof as he stretches. The pull of his shirt upwards causing the hem of his shirt to raise just a bit, exposing some of his skin.

“Well,” he says, his head tilting to the right as he shrugs his arms back down, rolling his shoulders back. He moves positions, outstretching his legs under the table while leaning backwards as his palms settle into the carpet.

“Your passion is writing, right?” A rhetorical question. “Well most people would just focus on that as their major. But you, you take it one step further, deciding to endure hours of nonstop talking, ruthless quizzes, and a shit load of reading. Just so your readers will be impressed and captivated more by your characters. Admirable, you're so dedicated it's different.”

His words cause your cheeks to burn slowly. Never had you been called admirable for a simple action of yours. Praise, you thought, as you stared at Jungkook, was different, different from Taehyung's - but something definitely enjoyable.

“Well, what about you?” You question, now curious yourself.

His pink hued lips push together for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing the tiniest amount as he thinks over what he wants to say.

“I guess it's because my parents wanted me to go into law school, and being able to read someone's body language is a big part of being a good lawyer or attorney. Psychology has a lot to do with human actions and what not, so I figured, 'why not?'”

You wait for a few seconds after he's finished speaking, to make sure that that's all he wants to say before inverting your own words. “Well what about you?”

“Hm?”

“You said and I quote, 'I guess it's because my parents wanted me to,' well, what about you? What do you want?”

“Ah,” he grunts out, nose scrunching up again. “You caught that.”

“Honestly?” he continues a second later. “I've never given it much thought. My entire life I've always wanted to impress my parents, y'know? Always wanted them to be proud, I guess along the way, I forgot to stop and ask myself what I wanted in life.”

His words cause your lips to tug downwards into a frown. Because you could not relate, you never grew up with the feeling of never making your parents proud wavering in the air. Every grade above an F was awarded with, “Way to go's!” And sticker smiley faces. They were not disappointed when you learned to ride your bike at age eight, but instead encouraged you and celebrated the so called “milestone,” (their words not yours) when it was passed.

You find your head turning in the direction of where the paintings are hanging up, your head tilting a tad as a thought comes to mind. Your eyes linger on the portrayal of the heart as you speak.

“Well what about painting?”

“Painting?” He questions, and he sounds like the thought is absolutely crazy, you turn your head towards the older boy.

“I mean don't get me wrong. If I had to choose something as my passion, it would be painting. I love it.  But with that being said, my work – they may be good, or nice to look at, but I could never make a living off of painting, Y/N.”

Your eyes narrow the smallest amount in response. “You're kidding, right? Jungkook, trust me when I say this, you've got talent. Pure, raw, talent.”

He shakes his head a moment later.

“Even if I am talented, or even considered painting for money, I heard that turning the thing you love most into your career can ruin it for you”

His statement causes your head to tilt a bit, teeth gliding across your lip.

“Well, think of it this way. What if you were to become a famous artist, Jungkook? Being paid to do what you're good at. Being paid to do what you enjoy. You'd be happy, and nothing is set in stone, y'know? Nothing says it has be what you do for the rest of your life, you're allowed to change your mind.”

He still looks conflicted, like he's unconvinced, but you're able to see a difference in his face. Like he's thinking over your words.

“All I'm saying is that you should do what you love, it's not as crazy as it sounds, you dweeb. Stop trying to make your parents proud,  try making yourself proud. Don't be a shell of the person you have the potential to be.”

His eyes lift upwards at that, moving to stare directly into yours. And the way he stares at you is like he's seeing someone different. Like you're much more than just a person, like you've opened his eyes.

“I think you're one of the first people besides Jin and Yoongi to say such a thing to me. To actually believe that I have potential for something bigger and better than law. And you're practically a stranger, so just – thank you.” He smiles then, a wide and genuine one that threatens to put the sun to shame.

You lift your shoulders up into a slow shrug after that.

As you part your lips to say something more, you're interrupted, and both of your attention is captured by the sound of a door opening.

When it's opened, you find your body filling with a familiar warmth that travels through your veins, sinking into your bloodstream.

Your breath catches in your throat when Yoongi steps into view.

At just the sight of him, it causes your heart to clench uncomfortably, your breath increasing in pace.

“Oh, Yoongi-hyung you're home early.” Jungkook's voice booms through the apartment. Your eyes travel from Yoongi's wet hair, this a sign that it had been raining again, to the leather jacket drowning him, and then to his eyes, and you notice immediately the dark circles settled under them.

And to your utter surprise, you are the one who breaks the eye contact first. Afraid that he is able to see traces of how wrecked you've been from the previous days. Your brown eyes fall to the carpet to study it, finding it to be a whole lot more interesting that it had been a few seconds prior to Yoongi's arrival.

Even as you look down, you're able to feel the warmth.

“We've just finished studying, we can move to the kitchen if you want to watch--”

“No,” you interject, half shocked at your own voice. Your eyes then raise and glance towards the clock hanging on the wall across the room, finding that it reads 9:30. Taehyung was definitely going to be worried.

“I have to get going anyway, Tae's going to be uneasy. Didn't expect to be here this late, to be honest.” You don't mean for your words to venture out as cold as they do, so you offer a small smile sent in Jungkook's direction after your words are spoken.

You then slowly stand up, gathering your Psychology book where it was placed on the floor.

“No, it's fine I'm just going to my room anyway so--” You turn your head at the sound of Yoongi's voice, it catching you off guard. He stops the moment your eyes have connected, and you can see that he's gotten rid of the jacket he had previously been wearing.

Tension slowly fills the room, and you're not sure if Jungkook can feel it. But if he does, he doesn't say anything about it.

You shake your head then, quickly. Your eyes glancing to the coat rack standing behind Yoongi where your backpack resides.

“No, really I have to go.” You rush out. And then you walk towards Yoongi, swallowing the lump that had been forming in your throat as your body comes closer to his.

He looks confused at first, especially when you stop just a few feet in front of him, your eyes studying his, trying your best to ignore the heat radiating throughout your body.

“My backpack, it's uh - behind you.”

You watch as he blinks, eyes not leaving yours. And you notice that he looks different. That where the angry expressions had been placed days ago were replaced with something soft. He looked almost gentle. And for a few uncomfortable seconds all that occurs between the two of you is eyes staring into each other's. A thousand questions forming on both ends stay silent.

His hair is now fully blue, any trace of black is gone. And you want to run your fingers through the strands, you want to ask him why he decided to dye it. The blue looked nice on him, definitely, but you were going to miss the black.

And then he's ripping his eyes from yours, ripping the heat away as he takes a step to the side, making a path for you to grab your jacket.

As you step where he stood a mere moment ago, you get a whiff of his cologne. You're able to recall that it's the same one he had been wearing the first time you had seen and spoken to him.

You ignore the feeling of your heart squeezing together in your chest as you retrieve your backpack and quickly walk past him, trying your best not to stare at him even though your body screams at you to do so. You walk to the spot you had previously been sitting and retrieve your textbook, pushing it into your backpack.

Jungkook is standing now, limbs stretching outwards, his muscles straining against his tshirt. “Alright well, let me grab my car keys and I'll take you home.”

You shake your head.

“No, no, don't worry. I'm going to walk.”

Jungkook's lips part, head tilting a tad.

“It's raining.”

“No, it just let up.” Comes a voice from behind you, causing your body to tense slowly.

You stare at Jungkook, giving him a serious and firm expression. “I'll be fine, if it starts raining again I'll give Taehyung a call.”

He still looks doubtful, like he wants to argue further, but you sling your backpack onto your shoulders and offer him a reassuring smile, hoping that it's believable.

“Need some fresh air anyway.” You continue.

After a moment of contemplating whether to force you into his car or not, he decides to let you walk. Figuring that forcing you, someone he has only met a few times, into his car, could be seen as creepy.

“Alright, alright, but be careful, okay?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Absolutely, and thank you so much for today. I already feel like I'm going to ace the next test.”

“Don't mention it,” he replies. A smile that matches yours,  appearing on his lips.

And then you're turning, walking towards the door,  not glancing in Yoongi's direction as you pull the door open and step out. Another thanks to Jungkook slipping from your lips as you shut the door. You may have not been staring at Yoongi, but you didn't need to, to know that he was staring at you.

Cold. That's what you feel. And even though the wind is blowing softly, causing the night air to cascade across your face, strands of your hair blowing freely in the breeze, you are entirely sure that it's not the cause for why you're feeling so cold. You find yourself pulling your hoodie closer to your body for the extra weight and warmth it offers.

Your small sized hands grasp the chains of the swing you've someone managed to find. You're not entirely sure how you ended up here, in this run down park with only the nearby streetlights acting as a source of light.  But you were able to get here by foot, meaning you'd be able to get home by foot. If only you could remember which way home was.

You sigh out, but you don't let the thought linger for long. It's hard to keep focused on it when your head is hanging back, your eyes watching the stars as they come into your view.

Your feet start to kick back and forth, increasing speed as you carry on. And suddenly you feel like laughing. Not the humorous type of laugh, but the laugh that happens right before the metaphorical dam breaks and the tears start to flow. The type of laugh that protagonists let out as their world starts to unravel around them. The sort of laugh that occurs when there's nothing left to do – not cry, or yell or fight.

You want to laugh because this is how it all started – years ago when you were sitting in a goddamn swing, and now, you suppose as you stare up at the sky, this is how it'll all end, you sitting in a goddamn swing.

Oh, the irony. And all you can do is swing as it starts to eat away at you.

You allow the bottom of your battered up tennis shoes to skid across the surface of the golden sand as you start to come to a stop, and reluctantly you push yourself upwards and out of the swing. Grabbing your backpack from the ground, you are about to start heading home, when, out of the corner of your eye, you spot something.

A merry-go-round.

You immediately find your body heading in the direction of the obstacle, your feet moving at an incredibly slow pace.

Once you reach the instrument, you climb onto it, letting your backpack fall somewhere near the playground toy. And then you situate yourself, finding your body fitting between two separate bars, your back lays as comfortably as it can, on the metal middle of the merry-go-round. Your legs dangling off the edge as your feet drag through the sand sitting at the bottom of the obstacle. This position gives you a much better view of the stars you think, as your eyes stare at up at the sky.

You're not sure what time it is, but you're certain that it's quite late. You had left Jungkook and Yoongi's apartment at around ten'o'clock. Hoping that the cool and fresh air would help clear your head, and rid the thoughts of Yoongi that were once again circulating your brain. But it had helped to no avail, because he was the clearest thing on your mind.

Your thoughts are then interrupted by a vibration coming from the pocket of your hoodie, for a moment you think about just letting it ring, that whomever it is will let up eventually and leave you be. But then again, it was quite late, and you still hadn't returned home. So it was probably Taehyung or Hoseok, one of them calling to make sure that you were okay.

Reluctantly you pull your phone out of your jacket, the screen brightness immediately causing your eyes to squint as they adjust to the light. And you were right, across the middle of the screen is Taehyung's contact photo, and his name.

You let out a sigh, as you prepare yourself for the lecture you are about to receive. Something along the lines of,

“Y/N, do you know how dangerous it is to be out alone?”

“Y/N where on earth are you!?”

Slowly, you slide your thumb across the green button, accepting the call. Taehyung's deep voice wastes no time before sounding through the speaker and into your ear.

“Y/N.” He simply states, his voice thick and rough, with traces of tiredness etched into it.

“Taehyung.” You reply.

“You're not home yet. Is everything okay?” He asks, even though he probably knows the answer.

You hesitate, allowing your thoughts to get the best of you. The entire ordeal had been eating away at you for days. It was obvious to everyone, because even now Taehyung, who knew never to push you for answers, was doing exactly that, proof in his words from this morning. And you thought, that maybe you'd be okay. But the few seconds you had seen Yoongi, everything seemed to dwindle, and cave in. It had felt like someone had reached into your chest, clenched their hand strongly around your heart and was continuing to squeeze it relentlessly. Trying to stop it from beating.

Of course, you thought, the day I decide to pull myself together is the day I see him.

You were sure that if it had just been a few days later, then you would have reacted differently, been able to push it away better.

“Y/N.” Taehyung's voice comes through the receiver a moment later, when you still hadn't replied. “Where are you?”

You let out an audible sigh, eyes still staring at the stars above. “M'not sure,” you mutter out honestly. “Some park, but I walked here from Jungkook's so it's not far from the apartment, I'll be able to walk home.”

You're met with a scoff leaving Taehyung's lips.

“Stay where you are, yeah? I know where you're at, I'll be there in a few minutes.” Before you have a chance to protest further, the line goes dead.

True to his word, Taehyung arrives within a few minutes after ending the phone call. Which is odd because to you, it had felt like hours that you were walking before you stumbled upon the park. But you weren't exactly in the right state of mind when you had been walking. Your thoughts had been screaming at you in loud voices that threatened to rip your hearing from you, you had been focusing on the sidewalk for the most part, surely walking in circles several times.

The first sign that Taehyung has arrived, is when you hear the familiar sound of speakers sounding way too loudly, causing loud vibrations and muffled music to slide into the otherwise quiet night. You grimace, hoping that the noise belonging to his car radio will not attract unwanted attention.

The second sign that Taehyung has arrived, is when a body jumps onto the merry- go-round, causing the side to which the majority of the weight is on, to tip ever so slightly. Your body jostling around a bit.

“Be careful, would ya?” You ask out loudly, a playfulness incised into your words. Your only response is Taehyung jumping forcefully a few times, this causing you to whine outwardly, and your head to fall back, his face coming into view almost instantly.

A smirk starts to pull itself onto the corner of his lips, as his eyes meet yours.

“Fancy seeing you here, yeah?”

You offer him a smile in response, not entirely sure knowing what you'd say if you were to try to speak at the given moment.

Luckily, Taehyung seems to sense that you're not in the mood for jokes, so instead of trying to initiate unwanted banter, he crouches down, until he's in a sitting position. He situates his legs so he's sitting Indian style, on the metal. And without asking, he slowly lifts your head before setting it back down in his lap, his legs creating a makeshift pillow for you.

And the small action only reminds you of why you love Taehyung so much. Because he's kindhearted,  a gentle person, with an old soul. Taehyung does things not with the expectation of receiving something in return, but just to do them.

“So,” he says after a moment of silence. He waits until your eyes are resituated on the stars above, but before he can continue speaking you butt in.

“Please,” you state, “please, do not ask me what's wrong. Because as of right now I'm feeling a bit emotionally vulnerable and may say something that I will in fact, regret come morning.”

You intended for your sentence to come out as a joke, but once you speak it, you notice how tense Taehyung's body goes beneath you, how stiff and meaningful your words truly are.

Taehyung lifts a hand to your hair, allowing his long and thin fingers to drift through the different locks as he remains quiet. You take this opportunity to glance at him, only to find his eyes staring at something in the distance. You note that his face looks conflicted in a way - like he wants answers, but he doesn't know in which a way he can go about getting them. He knows that pushing will only make you pull.

“You know,” he says quietly. Eyes still staring at nothing in particular. “When we were in highschool, you went through that thing,” He pauses. “The one where you got really depressed, and it was scary Y/N. Because I had never seen you like that. You weren't yourself. You know? You looked – looked like a fraction of the person you once were, and I still don't know what happened, or why that occurred, but I do know that I was scared.”

He pauses again, his head finally dropping so his eyes can meet yours. “I was scared because for the longest time I was afraid that I might wake up one day, to find out that you didn't.”

His words cause your breath to catch in your throat, and you swear that you can feel your heart slow. You sit up then,  your body moving to copy his as you sit across from him. Eyes staring into each others as he continues to speak.

“I felt so useless, helpless. Like there was nothing that I could do. Watching my besfriend go through something so drastic, pained me. And after all these years, I still go back and constantly think about how things could have differed if I had just been there for you.” He blinks, he seems to choke on his words then. “-- What I'm trying to say, is that I know that you don't like to let people in, or talk about your problems, or what bothers you. But, I just want you to know that I won't judge you, that I'd never judge you. And I say this, because your behavior this past week – it's reminding me of that time in highschool and Y/N, I want to be able to help this time, unlike the last. So please-”

He stops for a brief second, moving his hands to slowly grasp both of yours. The pads of this thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the back of your hands.

“Please, don't keep me at bay, not again.” He shakes his head as he continues. “Please let me help you. Let me help you in the way I never could. I know something is going on, it's obvious - I don't want to lose you again-”

But before he can finish his sentence it happens.

You aren't able to keep it to yourself anymore. The dam breaks. An avalanche occurs on a mountain. Tsunami waves crash over a village, and your emotions come pouring out of you so drastically that it stuns Taehyung into a shocked silence.

And the tears, they come, they fall, and they rush down your cheeks relentlessly. One after another, another, another. They drip into your hoodie, making it wet, they cause your makeup to smear in long streaks down your face.

For a moment the only thing Taehyung can do is sit there. because he wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting to come of this conversation tonight, but it certainly was not this. It certainly was not to see his bestfriend break down in front of him.

You cry, and it's not quiet cries. It's loud and it comes in forms of tidal waves that threaten to sink you. It comes in incoherent words, and pleading. Pleading for Taehyung it just make it stop.

To make the pain that rests deep within your heart to disappear.

Because it hurts. Hurts so badly. And all you can see in your mind are pictures of Yoongi in form of a video replaying over and over in your head.

From the first encounter, eager lips and rushed words. The way he looked at you, to how he said you were enthralling. To the second, which was filled with angry accusations and rejection. To the car, where he had thrown horrid insults to you, and denied you any chance of even a friendship, of being able to prove yourself valuable enough for his time. And finally to the last. From the dark circles under his eyes, to the softness in his gaze.

It hurt.

It hurt.

It. Hurt.

One of your hands breaks away from Taehyung's and flies to your chest, your fingers clenching around the fabric of your sweatshirt as if you're trying to claw your way to your heart, so you can rip it out and not feel the way it's crumbling inside of you.

“Please make it stop,” you cry. “Just make it stop. Make it fucking stop.” Anger says as it forces its way out of your mouth.

Everything you had kept at bay since the day of meeting Min Yoongi is rushing out of you, every feeling you had pushed back, every thought you had refused to think, all of the numbness was wearing off and everything flew into you like knives piercing your skin.

The last thing you remember fully that night, the part that does not come in pieces, is Taehyung's arms moving around your shoulders, tugging you into his chest. He presses his lips to your hair, as he starts to rock your body back and forth. He is trying to soothe you, trying to get you to calm down as much as he can.

“You're going to be okay Y/N.” He whispers. “I've got you. I've got you. I've always got you.” His voice is shaky, and he's squeezing you tightly, in an embrace so warm that you never want to leave it.

The rest of the night is a blur.

When you wake up the next morning, your head is throbbing. It's a pain you've never experienced in that particular area before. You've had headaches before, but this could not be classified as a headache.

Your eyes are sore too, or so they feel that way. When your fingertips move to graze across your eyelids, it stings.

You slowly sit yourself up, and with one glance around the room you're in, you immediately recognize it as your own.

But you have no recollection of anything that took place after you had started to cry at the park.

It almost scares you, having no memory for a certain extent of time. You look down your body to see what you are wearing, and you are not wearing what you were the night before.

Gone is your hoodie and your jeans, and instead you are in one of your oversized tshirts, one that is long enough to be considered a short dress. One that absolutely drowns you and covers your lower half a somewhat modest amount.

You turn towards your black nightstand, trying to see what time it reads on the clock, and your eyes almost pop out of your head when the white numbers across the screen read 4:03 PM. Just how long had you been asleep?

Next to your alarm clock is a glass of water, with two pills you recognize as pain killers sitting next to it.

You down the pills almost as quickly as your eyes had laid on them, the water – a nice feeling on your dry mouth and throat. Once the water is set back down, you decide that you better get up and find out the events you are missing from last night. But you halt when the door to your bedroom opens, only just a smudge.

A figure appears through the crack, your eyes squinting a small amount to try to put a name to the disfigured face, but when the figure sees that you are awake, the door is pushed open enough to reveal Taehyung standing in the middle of the threshold.

“Hi.” You say weakly as he slowly walks in, shutting the door behind him. You're not sure what to do – you feel naked, for some reason. Like Taehyung can see your entire soul as clear as day.

“You feeling okay?” He says in a whisper as he takes a seat on the bed a few inches away from you. His head turns to face you as your eyes meet.

You offer him a meek nod in response, unable to form words.

“I know you probably have a lot of questions about last night --” he trails off for a moment, eyes not glancing away from yours. “So ask away, and I'll explain.”

You hesitate, swallowing the lump that has formed in your throat.

“Um – what, uh, what happened after the park? The last thing I remember is starting to cry, but everything after that isn't well, isn't there.” You state, referring to your thoughts.

He pauses, taking a deep breath as he moves his eyes away from yours.

“You were a mess, to put it lightly.” His voice lowering an octave. “I have never seen you like that, but that's not really a surprise, is it? You well - I managed to carry you to the car, but you didn't stop crying the entire ride home, or even after we got here. I was able to get you in the bathroom just in time for you to throw up. You uh, you had made yourself sick.”

Your lips purse together, embarrassment, shame, and other emotions rushing through your body. You let your head hang down, your eyes staring at the comforter covering your bed.

“We got home around two, and you threw up on and off again until three thirty. You must have lost thirty pounds, there was just so much – and I'm not sure how you were able to do it considering you've hardly consumed enough to stay alive this week.”

It's quiet then. For a few minutes, your hands resting flatly against your bed covers as you let out a slow breath.  “I am so sorry Taehyung.”

He ignores you though, starting to speak again.

“I need you to tell me what happened, Y/N. Because you scared me last night. Scared me so badly I almost called your parents.”

At that, your head immediately lifts, eyes finding his as panic starts to fly across your features. You loved your parents, but you didn't want them to worry, you didn't want them to see you as incapable of taking care of yourself.

“Don't worry,” he rushes out after studying the panic strewn across your face. “I didn't. But I nearly did. So I just -” he lets out a breath. “I know it may seem somewhat unfair, but I need answers. Because whatever made you react the way you did last night, it isn't nothing, and it was so bad. You have to tell me.”

Before you can register your own words they rush out.

“I'll tell you Taehyung.”

This shuts him up immediately, eyebrows furrowing. Probably a shock to him, and if you were being truthful, it was a shock to yourself. But everything had been eating away at you, he was right, you were falling back into old patterns.

And it was too late to try to pass it off as nothing, you had broke down last night, he knew it wasn't nothing. You weren't going to keep him fully in the dark.

“But, you can't tell anyone.” You say firmly. “I'm serious. No one.” You state, as your stomach starts to churn from nervousness.

He nods in agreement.

And then you're searching, searching your brain for answers. Because you desperately want to tell him the truth, but you won't be able to do that while keeping Yoongi's identity a secret. If you were to tell him what had occurred between the two of you, Taehyung would flip out. His over protectiveness would fly into overdrive, and he'd possibly beat Yoongi's ass. This ruining any relationship between Namjoon and Jin, and you couldn't cause that, you absolutely couldn't.

You take a deep breath, eyes drifting to Taehyung's leg, watching as it bounces quickly. Something he does when he's nervous. A tell-tale sign of uneasiness.

“The night we met Seokjin and his friend's, we were at a club, remember?” You ponder.

Taehyung mutters out an, “Mh,” in response.

“I – I don't know if you'll know, because you weren't really around, but I left early that night.”

You look up when you are met with silence, to only find Taehyung's head nodding slowly, this a gesture for you to continue, to explain further.

“Well it was crowded, as you know. Meaning there were multiple people and – the point is that, that night, I,” you let out a deep breath, head tilting backwards as the fabricated lie continues to form in your head. “I met uh, I met my soulmate.”

Taehyung's bouncing leg had stilled at that, him letting out a shaky breath once the words were spoken. His eyes had directed themselves to yours, staring at you in shock.

“And, to put it lightly,” you say, head raising, trying to blink back tears that were trying to form in your eyes at just the thought of the situation between Yoongi and you. “I was told that a relationship between the two of us, would never work out.” You gulp. “I was rejected by one of my soulmate's.”

You were expecting an angry scold from Taehyung, for withholding this information from him, or perhaps maybe comforting from him. Whatever you were expecting, It was definitely not the tears that slid down Taehyung's face once you had stated the last of your sentence.

“What--” you had muttered in disbelief, your right arm flying outwards, so your palm could rest comfortably against his back.

“I'm- I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you.” He says, rushed words leaving his lips. “Maybe if I had stuck around, or if I wasn't out getting drunk I would have noticed, oh shit,” he's able to state in between words. Tears streaming down his cheeks.

And even though he wasn't as unemotional as you, you had only seen him cry a few numbered times. And every time you witnessed it, it reminded you of a baby. Innocent, and pure. The sight was heatbreaking.

Realization hits him suddenly. “That explains why you were acting so off the next week. God,” he lets out a breath as he runs a hand through his unbrushed hair. “I-- I should have pushed. I'm so sorry for being such a lousy friend, I should have been there Y/N.” He says, eyes now rimmed red. Rings starting to encircle the area.

“No-” you are able to choke out, because this is the last thing you wanted. Your bestfriend blaming himself for something that absolutely had nothing to do with him.

Your eyes fill with tears as pure bewilderment rushes through your form.

“Taehyung,” you draw his attention, his glossy eyes staring into yours. “Don't, alright? Nothing could have been done that night to make things happen differently. You being there or not, wouldn't have changed his mind. It's-” you breathe out, “It's what the Universe wanted, right? The Universe has a thing for letting stuff play out. It's not your fault so don't you dare blame yourself.” A breath. “And besides, you know me, Tae, you know me. You know I don't like to talk about things that upset me. You know that there's no way I would have told you something if I didn't want to- and besides, you weren't the one who rejected me without even knowing me.”

He runs the back of his hand across his face, wiping up some of the streaks of tears that stain the skin. He nods his head in retaliation to your spoken words, sniffling every few seconds.

“Whoever he is, he's a goddamn asshole.” Taehyung says sternly, head turning to face you. “He sounds like a rude fucker.”

Your lips start to push down in a frown, eyes staring deeply into his.

“No he's not, or maybe he is, I'm not sure. All I know is he has his reasons, I suppose. As upset as I am, there's nothing I can do about it. This is what the Universe gave me.” You shrug. “But I hope when I find the other one, he'll let me introduce myself properly before deciding he wants absolutely nothing to do with me. If not, I'm going to have a very heated discussion with the star we were created from.”

Taehyung had nodded along to your words, the smallest smile you have ever seen on his lips, forming slowly around the edges.

“Just know, that no matter what happens, whether you end up with one of your soulmates or not - you will always have me.”

A smile pushes at the corner of your lips in response, because you vaguely remember him saying something of the sort the night before.

“Always.” You agree.

Pt. 07

A/N -  Platonic love is as important as romantic love. I hope I was able to somehow portray this in this chapter, because that was what this chapter was mostly about. Whether it be from Hoseok excusing himself so Taehyung could get the reader to open up, or to the reader trying to get Jungkook to do things to make himself proud, or to how Taehyung was there for the reader when she had her break down. Romantic love isn't everything, so remember to keep your friend's close, and also don't forget about them when you are in a relationship! Anywho, I must apologize for how long it took me update. I am well aware of how long it was and I can't apologize enough. I don't want to make excuses, but a lot of things occurred this week, one of them being *cue dark music* writer's block! Luckily, I was able to overachieve it. I hope that this 11k chapter (i am SO sorry) somehow makes up the wait! I am going to try to update weekly, but no promises! I must thank you all again for the messages I've received. Whether it's a one sentence message or a five paragraphed one, I enjoy all of them, so much. From everyone who reblogs, to everyone who hearts, to everyone who reads - I love you all, and appreciate all of the support. Please feel free to send me your opinions, your theories, or your thoughts, I love receiving all sorts of feedback. And okay, it's so hard to write Yoongi this way. Especially after he goes live and he's so cute. The way his nose scrunches, and his eyes. Jesus. Is it obvious who I bias? Anyway, this is gettingto be  much too long. But just -- thank you, really, to everyone reading. I hope this chapter sufficed and pleased people, and I am sorry if it didn't. Have a fantastic day/night, and stay safe!