#would love to hear feedback regarding this

[heirofnight]

meddling, pt. 4

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 4.6k - we have a lot of ground to cover with this one

summary: reader accompanies azriel to an event at the house of wind that rhys is hosting for the summer court. fluff, angst, and jealous (borderline murderous) azriel ensue.

also based around this request: would you consider writing a protective/jealous azriel? like maybe someone is getting a little too comfortable with his mate lol

a/n: so sorry for all of the slow-burn pining that has taken place thus far. i think you'll find that this part will make up for that. as always, pls leave feedback! hope you love it <3

read parts one, two, and three

rhysand was hosting a courtly event at the house of wind this evening. you weren't quite sure of the political details regarding the whole thing, but you'd deduced that tarquin would be visiting from the summer court after hearing various brief conversations that cropped up during meals.

such as the one that took place during dinner at the town house the night before.

"so, rhys, what exactly is the nature of this party we're hosting for summer?", cassian had asked, shoveling a spoonful of roasted vegetables into his mouth mid-sentence. a few droplets of the lemon & herb sauce had escaped his spoon, splattering against his bearded chin. you'd smiled at the sight, azriel hiding his own huff of laughter behind the rim of his wine glass.

rhys leveled his brother with a blank stare, shaking his head in mock disappointment at cassian's less than stellar table manners.

"it is not a party, cass," rhys drawled, sounding bored. "tarquin is visiting to discuss a few matters regarding the new treaty. however," rhys paused, taking his own sip of wine, "he's also bringing varian and cresseida," another pause, "and i believe - fifty others from his court," rhys finished, pushing his fingers into his temples.

cassian snorted, raising a dark eyebrow, "so - a party," he smirked, resting his elbows on the dark wooden table before him. "i propose we break out the expensive booze for the occasion," cass stated, attempting to use his most noble voice.

you met azriel's amused gaze from across the table, a dimpled smile spreading across his cheeks once you'd both locked eyes.

he shook his head in feigned exasperation at cassian's antics, and you'd nudged the toe of his boot with your own under the table, huffing a laugh.

"cassian, you will be on your best behavior," rhys stated, pointing a lithe finger in the war general's direction. "you're already on thin ice with summer - we need not encourage them to send more blood rubies our way," the high lord exhaled, stabbing a fork into his piece of roast.

you'd cleared your throat then, sitting up a bit straighter in your chair.

"am i allowed to join?", you'd asked. every head at the table lifted to look at you, surprised expressions on their faces. as comfortable as you'd become around the family, you still really only engaged with azriel on a consistent basis. and, as isolated as you'd been during your first few months residing at the house, no one truly expected you to willingly participate in this not-party.

your eyes darted from rhys' pleased expression over to azriel's honeyed gaze. he peered at you tenderly, with eyes that looked like hazel pools of pride.

he was, indeed, proud. proud that you'd spoken up, proud that you'd asked to join the rest of them for a gathering that would have otherwise made you feel the need to hide yourself away in your rooms only a few months ago.

"of course you can, sweet y/n," rhys said, voice oozing delight and charm.

your smile threatened to split your face in half, and you found azriel's eyes again. he nodded once, encouragingly. his own smile grew marginally, a dimple peeking through.

he tried his best to hide his budding fondness towards you around the rest of his family - especially cassian. his brother would never let him hear the end of it, otherwise. such busybodies, all of them. azriel was terrified of his family's meddling tendencies potentially spooking you in the opposite direction.

but, even with all of that being said, azriel couldn't help the words that spilled from his lips before he could stop them:

"uh -," he set his wine glass down gently - holding the stem between his fingers, swirling the liquid once, "you can accompany me, if you'd like to. if that would make you more comfortable," he said confidently, voice unwavering.

if his family had to witness him asking you to be his plus one to a formal party, the least he could do was sound like he wasn't nervous to do so. but, he was. he was very nervous.

however, the butterflies in his chest threatening to rip through his skin and flurry throughout the room only thrashed harder when he watched the way your eyes lit up at the offer.

your gaze flit around quickly, surveying everyone else's expressions - you were met with soft smiles as the family silently watched the sweet exchange. and then there was cassian, sporting a smug smirk as he pushed the food around on his plate.

you looked back to azriel, his expression soft, his fingers tapping quietly at the base of his wine glass.

"i would love to, az," you said graciously, and you sent another nudge to the toe of his boot with your own foot under the table - a 'thank you' said in a language that only the both of you spoke.

now, tonight, you were preparing for said event - having no idea what to expect. what you did know, though, was that you were attending it with azriel. a fact that definitely added a bit of pressure to the evening.

you knew that az would be a perfect gentleman, as he had been since you'd met him nearly eight months ago. but, you were developing very loud feelings for him - feelings that you were unable to shrink and contain in a quiet corner within your heart and mind any longer. they were boiling over, pushing and shoving to make themselves known.

and, honestly, if he didn't reciprocate those feelings, you weren't sure how you'd recover. this was not just some juvenile crush - azriel had helped mend together the pieces of you that were left jagged and splintered upon arriving in velaris. after your past, after the shattering pain you'd become used to, azriel had taken gentle hands and sanded away your abrasive edges.

you took a deep breath, studying your appearance in the floor-length mirror that was propped against your armoire. nuala and cerridwen had assisted you in getting ready for tonight, and honestly, you almost didn't recognize yourself.

your hair was set in long, elegant, loose curls down your back - the skin there exposed due to the gown you'd chosen. a black, silk, floor-length number that appeared as though tiny stars had been woven throughout the fabric. your makeup was beautiful - glowy and fresh. you looked happy. you looked like you belonged.

you were stunning, and you'd hoped your chosen ensemble would turn the head of the one male you couldn't stop thinking about.

little did you know, azriel hadn't been able to turn away from you since you'd arrived.

it was now half-past-seven, and you knew az would be knocking on your door soon to escort you downstairs for the party.

azriel shut his own bedroom door, waiting for the quiet click of the latch before descending down the hall to your chambers. he tugged on the left sleeve of his suit jacket, worrying over the fit of the formal clothing he'd chosen for the evening.

he stopped in front of your door, and opted to readjust his silver chain - a beautiful gift you'd given him only a month prior - to assure it laid correctly, before knocking. his wings twitched in anticipation, and he really hoped he wasn't over-dressed. he glanced down at his black dress shoes, his black slacks. he frowned, slipping a hand into his pocket to fidget with truth-teller nervously.

before his thoughts became too loud, too stifling, he heard your doorknob turn from the opposite side of the threshold.

and there you stood, in a dress that very well may have been sewn and stitched with the sole intention to bring him to his knees in front of you.

that, paired with your innocent eyes peering right up at him had azriel malfunctioning.

his mouth opened and closed several times as he took you in. open. close. open - you thought he may finally say something, but, alas, he closed it again.

while his mind was spinning, thrashing, screaming, his shadows had gone eerily still.

cauldron... boil me, was the only clear thought that he was able to translate from within the absolute stirring storm that was happening internally.

should he bow? he felt the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees and worship you like you had created him with your own hands.

speak, you fool, he commanded himself, realizing that the silence had stretched on for far too long.

"you-", he forced out, swallowing hard. "i am very lucky to have you on my arm this evening," he spoke, taking all of you in once more. you'd placed a dainty gold necklace around your neck, one that trailed right between your cleavage and down the front of your dress. azriel took that detail in now, his fingers twitching at the sight of it.

and you, well. you were struggling to keep your own composure from where you stood. this male in a suit was absolutely devastating. a suit that hugged his tall, muscular form so well, you'd wanted to personally thank the individual who tailored it.

the chain. your eyes snagged on the chain almost immediately. it sat against his bare clavicle, and that's when you'd realized that his chest was showing completely. he'd left the top three buttons of his black, silk dress shirt undone. his tan skin, marked with swirling illyrian ink, showing, and a chain?

you'd really hoped that cassian had convinced rhys to serve the expensive booze tonight. you were going to need it.

the party was progressing along, and after a few glasses of lavish wine, you'd felt loose enough to unabashedly enjoy yourself. azriel was doting, attentive. he'd provide you with a refilled glass every now and then without you even having to ask. he'd paraded you throughout the busy space with a chaste hand on your lower back - your exposed lower back. the feeling of his silver rings against your bare skin sent a bolt of lightening up your spine each time he guided you throughout the room. he'd gently check on you every now and then, asking how you were feeling, if you felt okay, if you needed anything.

and as the night further progressed, and more drinks were had, you found yourself leaning into his strong frame as you both mingled with various partygoers.

azriel had loosened up quite a bit himself - his own drinks allowing him to open up a bit more than usual. wide smiles were being thrown your way more frequently now, and his affectionate hands had found your body on several occasions as if they were acting on instinct.

he leaned into your ear, making sure his next words were only for you.

"you are stunning," he'd said in a gravelly voice, a single wing wrapping around your back as he spoke. he pulled back to take a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours in the process.

you'd blushed, face on fire. but, the alcohol had made you a bit bolder than normal, so you unabashedly placed a hand on his bare chest as you took your turn leaning into him.

"i was hoping you'd think so," you said, your voice smooth as the silk you were wearing. your eyes traveled along the expanse of his face. his long lashes, freckled nose, full lips. your gaze landed on that damned chain once again, and you trailed your tongue across your lips subconsciously.

azriel tracked the movement, his breath hitching at the sight of you. the wing wrapped around your back tugged you in a bit closer to his body, and you stumbled slightly in your heels before pressing your shoulder into his.

"i always think so," he whispered, matter-of-fact.

you paused with your wine glass halfway to your mouth, locking your clouded gaze with his own molten-honey eyes.

he stared back, unblinking. he felt as though his chest was going to cave in. you were ruining him in the best way possible. his slightly drunk mind was swimming in thoughts of you, and he did not care if he drowned right where he stood.

just then, a tendril of shadow darted to the shell of azriel's ear, whispering something that only he could hear. you watched his expression drop momentarily, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"i'll be right back, okay? rhys, he-," he started, huffing out an exhale. "just, i'll be right back," he swallowed, downing the rest of his glass in one go. he was clearly disappointed in the interruption of your intimate moment, a moment that really seemed like it may have ended with his lips on yours.

he went to turn around, his wings tucking in tight to his back in preparation of having to push through a crowd of people. he reached an arm back behind him, wrapping a scarred hand around your wrist. peering over his broad shoulder, he met your eyes.

"will you be okay?," he paused, searching your features for any sign of discomfort at the prospect of being left alone.

you smiled, nodding once, "i'll be at the refreshments table - i need a refill," you offered, nodding your chin towards the large, extravagant spread at the other end of the room.

he nodded, offering you a dimpled smile.

"i won't be long, promise," he said, squeezing your wrist gently in a reassuring gesture.

you watched as he disappeared into the crowd, only the apex of his wings peeking over the heads of party-goers.

you loosed out a breath, making your own trek to the opposite end of the room with the sole purpose of refilling your glass.

you stood next to the exorbitant spread of food and drinks placed around the massive refreshments table, taking everything in with your back to the crowd. you were lost in thought about how much effort rhys put into this entire evening, how detail-oriented he was in his planning, when you felt a warm hand on your bare shoulder.

a hand that you knew was not azriel's.

you peered over your shoulder hesitantly, immediately feeling nerves flood your chest and stomach. you knew almost no one here tonight, aside from azriel and the inner circle - the amount of guests from summer out-populated your small group in excess.

and sure enough, your eyes met those of a summer court male, his orbs twinkling as he took in your appearance appreciatively. he made no effort to hide the way that his gaze raked over your form from head-to-toe, his eyes traveling all the way down to your heeled feet before they snapped back up to your face.

"well," he crooned, "i knew rhys hid away the good liquor, but i had no idea that he was in favor of hiding beautiful females, too," he purred, stepping a fraction closer to you. you turned to face him completely now, arms crossing over your chest to hide yourself from his wondering eyes.

"what's your name?," he continued, pausing to sip his drink, "and more importantly, where have you been?", his eyes sparkled, pure male confidence oozing from every pore on his body.

you opened your mouth, eyes flitting around the room to plot a potential escape route. you were not comfortable. not at all.

az, please come back, come back, come back, you chanted silently, your eyes dancing around the room quickly in hopes of spotting the tips of his wings amongst the large crowd. he knew that you'd be here - in this general area. surely, he'd come straight here to find you. right?

the male before you tutted quietly, grasping your chin with his thumb and pointer fingers to turn your head back towards him, wanting your full attention. he was also wearing rings, but his jewelry didn't have the same gut-twisting affect on you as azriel's had. no, your gut twisted now for a completely different reason.

"eyes on me, little one," he cooed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. you bristled, internally recoiling at his touch, at the term of endearment he'd bestowed on you.

the summer male's hand went to your shoulder, his fingers grazing the skin as they traveled down your bare arm.

"be careful," you heard a familiar voice snarl from beside you. his tone was cold, rough, and left no room for discussion.

azriel.

the male before you dropped your gaze immediately, standing up straighter in az's newfound presence. he dropped his hand back to his side, his fingers twitching as he stepped back from you - curiously eyeing azriel instead.

"ah, the shadowsinger," the man said, attempting to sound far more confident and at-ease than he obviously was. "to what do i owe the pleasure?," the summer male continued, swishing the wine around in his glass.

you didn't miss the way his eyes flashed with unease, and you almost let a smirk form at the sight. you glanced over at azriel, his shadows now swirling around him in agitation. his honey eyes, normally flooded with so much soft, affectionate warmth when settled on you, were now hard, narrowed, and full of ice. this was the feared shadowsinger of the night court - a side of him you had yet to see.

"you'd be wise to walk away," azriel started, his voice sharp. his hand found your lower back, much like it had the entire evening. except this time, it felt claiming, possessive. the cold metal of his rings were a nice reprieve from how warm your skin had become due to this entire interaction.

the male faltered for a moment, but he tried his best to glom onto the last fragment of dignity he had left. "now, now, azriel. there's no need to cause a scene over a female," he spat the word as if he were disgusted by it, and you felt azriel's hand twitch against your skin.

"i've caused a scene for far less," azriel deadpanned, voice lathered in irritation, "and mind how you address her," he continued, "i'd love nothing more than to personally deliver the hand that you used to touch her right back to tarquin's front gates," azriel's deep voice was death personified, and the summer male before you was smart to heed the warning. he exhaled a clipped breath before turning on his heel - striding away into the crowd and out of sight.

azriel let a low growl rumble deep within his chest as he kept his eyes locked on the retreating male, his eyes narrowed. he only allowed his gaze to find yours once he was sure you were both safe from his lingering presence.

you turned your body toward his, azriel's hand still splayed across your lower back. you had no idea what to say, where to start. there were too many emotions to sort through, too many feelings to give names to - and the liquor circulating through your veins wasn't helping, either.

he watched your expression carefully, his eyes softening - the way they always did once he'd sought you out. he rubbed your lower back affectionately, his pointer finger tracing small shapes across your skin.

"sorry," he finally muttered, his eyes searching your own, trying to gauge how you were feeling. he'd never wanted you to see that side of him - that cruel side of him that was able to inflict unimaginable pain and suffering onto the unfortunate soul at the other end of his blade. he didn't want you to run in the opposite direction, although he wouldn't blame you if you did.

after all, as someone who was so used to being shrouded by darkness and shadows, he'd come to believe that he didn't deserve to sunbathe in the light. and that's what you were - a blinding, all-compassing, warm beam of radiance.

his reaction to the summer male was instinctual, second-nature. and that particular reaction was azriel grasping onto every ounce of restraint that he could muster. his knee-jerk urge involved putting the knife in his pocket to good use.

"sorry?," you questioned, brows furrowing. "azriel, for what?", you continued, stepping closer to him, every instinct in your body compelling you to comfort him, to smooth out the concerned lines that had formed between his brows. to wash away the ashamed look that was threatening to flood his amber eyes.

"that-," he sighed, clearing his throat, "i shouldn't have acted that way," he finished, reaching up to absentmindedly run his fingertips across the chain that hung around his neck.

you tilted your head to the side curiously, "i'm glad that you did," you confided, "he made me horribly uncomfortable," and azriel bristled once more at the notion, at the idea of another male intruding on your personal space - going as far as to touch you.

his nostrils flared, and you offered him a comforting smile, wanting so badly to calm him down. you tipped your chin towards the outdoor balcony, resting a hand on his upper arm.

"i'm in the mood for some fresh air," you spoke, stepping around the side of his body to begin leading the way to the large glass doors that led outside. "join me?", you met his gaze hopefully, and azriel wondered if you knew that he would never say no to anything that you asked of him.

he nodded once, his hand still firmly splayed across your lower back. he followed you through the crowd and took his place beside you once more as you approached the balcony railing.

you stayed silent, peering up at the twinkling stars that blanketed the night sky. azriel glanced over at you, both of his hands now taking purchase on the railing.

your mirrored his actions, resting your own hands next to his as you leaned over slightly to take in the sight of velaris below - mesmerized by the smoking chimneys, the bright lights of the rainbow, and the sidra that flowed amongst it all.

"so beautiful," you whispered to yourself, awestruck by the picturesque view spread out before the two of you. it was so extravagant, a living, breathing work of art.

azriel swallowed, his eyes boring into the side of your face. he nodded once, "beautiful," he agreed on a breath, but he wasn't referring to the same view that you were.

the starlit sky perfectly matched the dress that looked as though it was poured over your body, and azriel didn't have much composure nor restraint left in him. not after the last few months, not after he'd seen you in his clothing, not after the affectionate glances and nervous touches shared between the both of you in a room full of others that had no clue, not after sitting across from you for dinner each night - where he'd started looking forward to your little foot nudging his own beneath the table, and not when another male had just tried to sweep you away from him.

his wings flared momentarily, the action allowing him to release some tension before they settled proudly against his back once again.

he stared at you for a moment longer, before touching that chain around his neck one last time - grounding him, giving him courage.

"y/n," he whispered, his large right hand lifting from the railing momentarily - before gently placing it right on top of your much smaller, softer one.

you looked over at him then, expectantly. you were so beautiful. so soft, so elegant, so perfect.

"i'm going to kiss you. do you think that would be alright?", he asked on softly, taking a deep breath of crisp evening air.

your eyes widened, and you blinked. your cheeks turned the sweetest shade of pink as your processed his question.

you felt frozen - of course that would be alright. you'd daydreamed about this moment for months. how his lips would feel, taste, how they'd move. would he be rough, gentle, would he use his tongue to explore your mouth? where would his hands go, where would your hands go? what if you were bad at-

just kiss him already, you scolded yourself, and before you could allow your nerves to take over, you nodded eagerly, a bashful smile creeping across your rosy features.

azriel exhaled a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding, had almost convinced himself that he'd been rejected. he wouldn't have been wholly surprised, but still - it would have been agonizing all the same.

he stepped closer to you, his gentle fingers splaying across the left side of your jaw. as he angled your face upwards towards his, he allowed his thumb to caress the skin of your cheek, smiling at the warmth he felt from your perpetual blush.

"i've been thinking about this for so long," he whispered, ghosting his lips across your own. he shuddered at the feeling, the contact.

finally, he thought to himself.

you nodded, placing a hand on his bare chest.

"me too," you whispered back, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his. his other hand gripped your waist at the action, squeezing once.

and upon hearing your reciprocated want, azriel surged forward, his lips finding yours immediately, as if he'd done this for centuries. it wasn't rough, but it definitely wasn't gentle. you could feel months of repressed want flowing through the both of you, clashing where your lips met. exploding into fireworks and stars, creating vibrant new galaxies at the contact.

he squeezed your waist once more, feeling the fabric of your dress between his fingers. a soft groan trickled up his throat and directly into your mouth, and you almost burst into flames at the sound.

your hand slowly slid upward, caressing the bare skin of his chest before gripping his chain into your fist. and of course, this sent thoughts that were far from innocent cascading into azriel's muddled brain. he pulled back from the kiss, only a fraction, and his knees almost buckled beneath him when you chased his swollen lips with your own.

he leaned into you, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth gently, and you let out a reactive whimper at the feeling. his head was swimming, and as much as azriel prided himself on being a gentleman, you were eliciting feelings that were too overwhelming, too much. his instincts were screaming at him to lie you down, spread you across his mattress, really show you how much you made him feel.

he pulled you against him, his wings wrapping around the both of you - to shield you from sight, to keep you warm, to bring you closer.

his lips met yours again, and his hands traveled from your waist, back up to your jaw, holding your face between his hands as if he were granted the honor of holding the most precious jewel ever discovered.

he supposed, in that moment, he was.

finally, he pulled away, placing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. he brushed loose strands of your hair behind your ears, smiling fondly at you.

"gods," he whispered, catching his breath. "you are such a dream," he finished, taking all of you in hungrily. he would never be satiated enough, not now that he's finally tasted you.

you sucked your lower lip into your mouth, still tasting him there, and his pupils dilated at the action.

smiling, you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the clasp of his chain, "speaking of dreams," you mused, "i've been dreaming of this for a very, very long time," you smiled, playing with the cluster of curls at the nape of his neck.

"well, i hope i didn't disappoint," he teased, his hands finding your waist once more, fingertips grazing the exposed skin of your back.

you huffed out a laugh, resting your forehead against his bare chest, "you know," you started, tone laced with mock contemplation, "i wasn't able to really tell," you glanced up at him with a smirk.

azriel cocked an eyebrow, smirking down at you knowingly.

"i think we should try again, just to be sure," you quipped.

azriel laughed, a beautiful, melodic sound.

you didn't have to tell him twice.

a/n: FINALLY. i've heard all of your pleas, ok. here is the long awaited KISS <3 i hope i did it justice. pls leave feedback! this took me so long to execute properly, and i truly hope you loved it. my heart is a puddle on the floor !!!

tag list: @stressed-reader @vhjlucky13 @scarsandallaz @victory-salads @weirdo-fun @topaz125 @mrsjna @lovegoodlunaa @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @luna9876 @kennedy-brooke @coolepowersthings @saltedcoffeescotch @99sunflower99 @nikt-wazny-y @rose-girls-world @mariacbzs @jesskidding3

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Taking Care Of You When You're Drunk

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had! Still not feeling great, but I will definitely get back to requests tomorrow :) This is just a lil thank you for your patience my loves! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜

Butcher notices you've been drinking a lot more than usual. Ever since you found out he was dying, you've been trying not to think about it or worry about it, and the only way you can do that is by drinking. Getting drunk is just a fun side effect. He'll drive you from the bar, taking your shoes off before tucking you into his bed. He hates the idea that you're hurting yourself like this because of him, because he didn't listen to you and he took the V without regard to his or your safety. The least he could do was hold your hair while you threw up and bring you a glass of water and some Tylenol. You don't talk about it, though. You don't want to talk about him dying, you don't want to face that future, and you don't want to talk about your growing problem. You were drinking on the job, too, maintaining a certain numbness so that nothing else could hurt you.

Hughie hates that you're drinking more. He understands why. More and more stuff just keeps going wrong. More and more issues pop up. It's hard to be positive or optimistic. It was easier to find your way to the bottom of a bottle than to come face to face with any of this stuff. He doesn't mean to pry, but he asks you a lot of questions. The main one is why are you doing this? You just shrugged. It's so hard to explain. Everything feels like too much. You were tired, and scared, and you weren't sure you wanted to do this anymore. What was the point? He tried to cheer you up. You had the serum in the severed leg, you were so close, why give up now? You wanted to be that hopeful. You really did, but you couldn't.

Annie definitely lectures you. This is the third night in a row (this week alone) where the bartender called her, your emergency contact, taking your keys from you. You've been drinking a lot more, ever since you left The Seven and joined The Boys. You worked with Vought for so long, she knew there was a lot you weren't saying. She tried to talk to you about it, but you were so cagey, shutting her out instead. Shutting everyone out. It was awful, that much she knew. Still, everyone went through something. That didn't give you the right to get as drunk as you were as often as you were. You're barely listening, but she gives you her speech anyways. She'll keep telling it to you until something changes.

M.M. hates taking care of you when you're like this. The biggest thing he can't stand is the vomit. He stays as far away from you as possible, yelling from the across the room if you're okay. He offers hand sanitizer and napkins and mouthwash, but he refuses to get any closer than that. The noises alone make his skin crawl, let alone the smell. He's in charge now. He feels like he has to take care of everyone, regardless of the issue. You getting drunk wasn't a problem yet, but he knew he'd have to talk to you if it got worse. Drinking every night just to function during the day wasn't you. You couldn't keep going on like this. If that included tough love, so be it. You needed to hear it.

Frenchie drinks with you. He never goes as far as you, realizing that at least one of you should be slightly more sober. He doesn't really mind when you get drunk. Something happens with you. You become happier, sillier, more fun. You smile and laugh more. He likes seeing that. He likes knowing you're at least a little happier. Life had become so hard lately. Your past was catching up with you, and you didn't know how to handle it, so you got drunk. He understood the concern from everyone else, but he knew yelling and lecturing would change anything. At least he could be there for you. At least he could take care of you and laugh with you and be there. That's all you really needed.

Kimiko is quite gentle when you're drunk. She walks you home from the bar and takes off your shoes and asks you questions: Are you nauseous? Are you hungry? Thirsty? She gets it. When she saw the posters of the Shining Light Liberation Army, she drank more than a few beers. Anything she could get her hands on. Sometimes, you just need a little liquid courage to face the hard things. She makes sure you have pain relief for the headache you'll feel tomorrow and gets you something greasy to put in your stomach. She doesn't like or want to villainize your actions. You were all tired of this, fighting a battle you could not win. She stuck up for you when the others thought you were being messy or stupid. You just needed some time, that was all.

Bonus! Homelander thinks you're messy, a degenerate, and he won't tolerate it. When he knows you're drunk or hungover he makes a special point to seek you out, to punish you. You're a member of The Seven, you should act like it. The same way it infuriates him when Sage lobotomizes herself, he feels that when you start drinking. You have a public image to uphold. Even when you go out in civilian clothes, anyone could spot you. Anyone could ask for a photo or ask questions. It was stupid and selfish and reckless and as long as he's in charge, he won't tolerate it. He humiliates you, he says, because he cares. You think it's because he likes having power over you when you're at your most vulnerable.

Bonus! Soldier Boy thinks you're a lightweight and calls you out on it any chance he can get. There's no keeping up with him. Even being a Supe, you could still get incredibly drunk. Your tolerance was a lot higher than humans, but nowhere near Soldier Boys. He doesn't really take care of you when you're drunk. It's more like lying you on your side and leaving you to sleep. He's not very caring towards anyone, let alone someone he considers lesser than himself. He's fun to drink with, but the fun pretty much stops there. If he's feeling extra considerate, he might throw a blanket over you, but that's as far as he goes. He'll leave you and keep on drinking for the rest of the night. You being drunk won't put a damper on his legendary partying.

[brujaluas]

Your next successful manifestation

pile 1

basically, money, you will be able to find a way to earn a lot of money, in the beginning you can start with something light but it will become something that will give you a lot of feeling of satisfaction, you can become the owner of something or not have a boss in your work, being something quite free, can be compensated for an injustice suffered, that is for some.

pile 2

you can earn extra money, and somehow I feel that you really want to be alone but for some reason you can't, but you will stay, you will be able to keep your own company as you want, there may be an end to a romantic relationship or friendship but it's a good thing, since that would be delaying your progress.

pile 3

Hmm, you will also have a lot of money, you can enter into a very pleasant relationship with someone, it could even be a crush, you will also work hard on your higher self, you will work on your spiritual evolution, be a more patient and calm person, know how to act in situations , if it becomes more of something you want, enter an introspection phase so you can glow up inside you.

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 22 — HAND KINK

PAIRING: jeno x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, roommate au, fingering, praising, usage of nicknames.

WC: 0.9k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! here i have soft dom!jeno as requested by my lovee @lunalovesstories! i hope you like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“You’re staring, babe.”

His deep, soothing voice was enough to snap you out of your daydream, suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, and well, your eyes which were fixated on his fingers. 

Lee Jeno was your roommate, and it was normal for you guys to sit down and have a chat, or give each other company occasionally, yet you had never been invited to sit down next to him to do what, watch him play video games? 

The offer was sweet, considering you were bored out of your mind and had nothing better to do at the given moment, yet your whole perspective regarding the situation changed when you realized that you’ll be watching Jeno work his fingers on the keyboard to kill off the enemies. 

Now, the idea of staring at someone’s hands must sound creepy per se, however you weren’t at fault or to be blamed for staring when Jeno had such long and slender fingers. You were rendered speechless when you first encountered the said man in a sleeveless tank top, his muscles prominent, which was also the day when you realized just how buff he is. That same day, he helped you carry the groceries inside the apartment—the veins on his arms more prominent than ever. 

The realization of the fact that he had pretty hands only encouraged your mind to get indulged in the most lewd thoughts of him having his fingers buried deep in your cunt. It had you wondering just how heavenly it would feel if he’d let you suck on his fingers, if he’d pinch your nipples for being naughty and staring, if he’d wrap his fingers around your neck in a gentle squeeze. 

Jeno can’t lie, he’s noticed your stare on his hands quite a few times now, yet he hadn’t ever bothered to point it out before, until today that is, mostly because he found it cute how you had completely zoned out while your eyes were still on the keyboard. 

You panicked, wondering if he thought that you were crazy for staring, yet you only found him smiling at you with a gentle gaze, his fingers coming to caress your cheek, your heartbeat rising up at the feeling of his soft thumb pads on your skin. 

“You like them, hm?” He asked, voice deep and soft. 

You found yourself gulping and saying no mindlessly to prevent any more embarrassment, to which he chuckled, “is that so?” 

“Jeno,” you didn’t mean it to come out as a whine but it did, especially when his thumb brushed your lip, your mouth parting open on its own accord, mind fuzzy already. 

He only pulled you closer effortlessly, making you sit on his lap with a gasp, holding your waist and continuing his actions. You couldn’t help it, not when his fingers were resting on your lips, so you simply opened your mouth further, your tongue gliding along his skin before you started sucking on them. 

He looked at you, mesmerized. Firstly because he didn’t expect his roommate to be interested in him. Secondly, because you looked so beautiful just sucking on his fingers, your lips glistening with the saliva. 

“So fucking pretty,” he muttered under his breath, his other hand parting your legs, massaging your inner thighs, which was convenient for him as you had worn a skirt. 

The cool metal of his rings juxtaposed the warmth of your skin, and you fully gave up trying to conceal your moans when he started rubbing your pussy over the panties, setting your mouth free to hear your pretty noises as you hid your face in his neck. 

“Still don’t like it, baby?” He whispered, cupping your cheek with his free hand to make you look up at him. 

“I do,” you breathed out, “I really do,” you confirmed, making him pull you in a sweet kiss, your knees weak with how effortlessly he got rid of your panties before stuffing you full of his fingers, your back arching with the sudden stretch. 

“That’s it, baby. You’re taking it so well,” he praised, pressing butterfly kisses all over your neck, as you held on to his arm for support, squirming and shaking with how good he made you feel, thrusting his fingers and abruptly picking up the pace when you started rolling your hips to meet his two digits, clenching uncontrollably while doing so. 

“Shh, baby. Calm down,” he whispered, pecking the side of your lip when you felt yourself breathing hard, “take a deep breath, yeah?” He kissed you all over your face. 

It felt too good, the unadulterated pleasure which had your nipples hardened, a tear escaping your eyes, which he kissed away, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze and fondle your tits, veins visible on his hands as he did so. 

“Go ahead, princess. Make a mess on my fingers,” he holds you gently, helping you reach your climax, patting your folds softly, pushing the wet fingers in your mouth to clean him up, “that’s my good girl,” he whispered, hugging you close to him which made you smile. 

You couldn’t believe that your roommate had you falling apart on his fingers, and praising you through it all.

All you knew was you didn’t want it to stop, and neither did Jeno because soon, he was picking you up and helping you get on the bed, pulling his T-shirt up and removing it before he got on top of you with a smirk, “are you ready, princess?”

It was going to be a long night. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[redwineandtarot]

your talents

hi! today's pac is all about your talents! as people we are so diverse so not all of your talents may be in this reading. however i hope this helps you discover yourself more! take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3

🥀paid readings🥀

Disclaimer: My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.

pick a pile

piles 1-2

3-4

i do not own these pictures

pile 1

You are great at giving people honest and genuine advice. You make people see parts of themselves that they may have not seen before, good or bad. 

You may be great with finances. Or have the potential to be, if you learned more about it. You could study finances or economics. Don't have to, but you may still learn a bit about this topic. I think this will benefit you. (I am not a financial advisor or professional, this is just what cards are telling me!)

Being some sort of a teacher/advisor may suit you well too. Economics professor just came through but you could also be a dance teacher, therapist etc. Just something where you help people broaden their visions. 

You are great with new beginnings. You know how to make something blossom. You are also great with endings.

What I am seeing is you can materialize any interest of yours. Like maybe you want to learn guitar or learn how to cook, you can become quite good at them(to be more specific anything you want). Also this applies to material gains. The world is your oyster, I heard your guides say. 

Some of you may be talented at fashion. Whether it is designing or just making great outfits in daily life. 

You are also great at thinking ahead and planning. 

You are probably at peace with your shadow self or you are on the way to be. 

You have an earthy vibe to you. Your self confidence and calmness makes you a great manifestor. You could also be great at meditation, yoga etc. Anything that makes you connect with the universe and yourself more. 

Messages from spirit:

You still have full autonomy regarding ‘it’. “Nothing is yet set in stone.” You have a lot of potential.

You may need to release something. What is it? Think about this if you don’t know. Because deep down you know it.

thank you for reading <3

pile 2

I see a strong emphasis on your beauty. You could be / have the potential to be a model. Regardless, you are attractive and you may use this to your advantage. I am not saying you inherently have bad intentions. You are just good at charming people and getting what you want. You also probably would do great at things that require you to be in the spotlight. 

You are great at saving money.

You are a great fighter and a diligent person. You are persistent with what you want. Even if the situation seems hopeless. You find a way to make it work. And this usually gets you where you want to be (or even better places) in life. 

You know how to balance things in life. It just comes naturally to you. You know sometimes life does not evolve the way we want. And you trust the universe even in these times. You know you can get your ideas to real life even in the darkest times. 

Your words are powerful. You could use words to manifest. You could also be a writer of some sort (book writer, lyrics writer etc.). 

You may be great with plants, flowers or you may be good at biology. 

The numbers 8 and 6 might be significant.

You are good at dealing with emotions. You are an emotionally intelligent person.

You have natural talents to share your wisdom and your talents. You could benefit from being some sort of a teacher or a performer. Someone people watch.

You have a great understanding of life. The occult and history might be suitable fields of search for you. (I’m especially getting Egyptian mythology.)    

Messages from spirit:

You might be holding onto something out of pride. For most of you this is something from the past that you cannot let go of. 

Look at your situation from a different perspective. People who you deem wrong may be right.

thank you for reading <3

pile 3

You have a natural ability to lead and gather people. Whether for a cause or a project. In your work field or in a hobby that you do, you may pave the way for some sort of thing. For example you may start a new way of doing things, or you may be the first to do something in your hometown etc. 

You may have a talent for singing and/or public speaking. This also ties in with leadership because a good leader should also be good at speaking. Even if you lead a small group of people, good communication is key in my opinion.

You are also good at ending conflicts and finding the middle ground. 

You are also great at comforting people. You can transmute people’s worries. And you are also a great friend. You friends value you a lot.

You can tackle a lot at once. For example you can do modeling, studying, working at a part-time job all at once. Or if it’s just one job you can do different elements of it. Like youtubers; they film, edit and advertise their videos on their own. As a continuation of this, I see that you are a multi-talented person. 

I see you handling fast-paced life well. And this is because after all this running around you know how to come back to yourself and sit still. Maybe you do yoga, meditation, or any type of mindful activity.

When you love something, you also have a GREAT passion for it. This makes you also stand out at what you love. You can do the hard work for what you want.

By harnessing all of these talents of yours, you can achieve great success (whatever success is to you).

You have great spiritual protection around you. From your guides.

Messages from spirit:

You may meet a soulmate(platonic or romantic) or a romantic partner of yours soon. Or you may enter a phase of your life in which you’ll meet your romantic soulmate. For most of you it's the latter. And for this, spirit wants you to hold on to your visions.

thank you for reading <3

pile 4

You have a youthful energy to you. You spread happiness to those around you. You give them energy. While you have youthful energy, I see you as a wise person. You have an immense intellect. You could have gone through some hardships but you got to the other side with great strength and important lessons. Despite this you protected your child-like spirit. Your inner-child feels safe and heard with you.

You have a great imagination. Your dream world is probably pretty big. I get neptune-ish vibes from you. I heard that you may be a poet, if not I suggest you give it a shot. If you do not like poems, you can do other things that get you to use your imagination and emotions. Because I see a great potential in you. 

Some of you may be life path 22 or 7. Even if not, your life path is important for you.

You probably have a close bond with spirit. You are a great manifester. Despite your lighthearted energy, I see that you may have an interest in the occult. 

You have a talent for dancing.

You could also do well in areas where you need to have a quick wit. I hear politics for some of you. The term “crazy like a fox” applies to you. 

Despite appearing playful, you are pretty grounded. Even some of you may not realize this. You just need to work on it a bit more maybe.

You are graceful in the things you do.

Messages from spirit:

The thing you are asking for is within your reach! However while working towards it, you need both spiritual and practical effort for it. (Spiritual effort may be visualizing it for 5 minutes every day, etc.)

thank you for reading <3

[st4vk1nmybra1n]

I knew you in another life. (You had that same look in your eyes.)

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader Wc: 12.6k! Cont: implied fem!reader with fem!pronouns. reincarnation au. Sappy romance with angst, but happy ending! Somewhat fast paced romance, there's timeskips so it comes off as a quick progression. author's note: Both reader and Satoru are reincarnated through different eras and times in reality. (In order) Royal!au with knight!satoru and princess!reader, jujutsu!au with sorcerer!satoru and non-sorcerer!reader, painter!au with muse!satoru and painter!reader. And finally, teacher!reader with satoru. As always, comments and feedback is always appreciated <3

“Satoru, not here,” you whispered hurriedly, pushing your lover, Satoru, away from your face, his feathery lips ghosting over your skin. He let out a laugh, pulling you even closer, his mouth warming up the skin on your neck.

“Why not, my love?” He asked softly, tone fond as he blinked up at you. His eyes were clouded over with pure love and fondness. Holding back a smile, you brush your fingers through his hair.

“And if father calls upon me? Then? Or worse, upon you? How will you know?” You asked in an accusing voice, attempting to give him a stern look. He let out a whine, nuzzling into your embrace.

“Oh, but sweetheart! I only get a moment of reprieve with you in my arms. I beg of you, you mustn't take it away from me!” He cried out dramatically, to which you sigh out in exasperation, lips pressing over his forehead.

“It's very late. You're not supposed to be in my chambers.” You chided, and he sighed, blowing out a puff of air in annoyance.

“How am i supposed to protect my beautiful and dearest princess, if I'm not within her gracious presence, hm?” He asked, voice sassy. Crossing his arms over his coat clad chest, Satoru gave you a look, as if pressing you to answer him.

“Do you wish for the people to create a scandal? The princess and her faithful knight caught an affair?! How blasphemous! I can already hear their voices.” You sighed, sitting back on your bed as you imitated the voices of the people. You truly loved Satoru and weren't afraid to show it behind closed doors, but it was much too risky to be doing this when anyone could catch either one of you, leading to a quick demise to the love you both had for one another.

“Let them, my lovely. Your maids already are at your service and will gladly bring honor to any conversation regarding you and your name. Even if you are indeed involved with your dearest knight, that is.” He teased, sitting down beside you to pull you into his lap. You sigh once more, shaking your head in disbelief. You glance up at him, his gorgeous blues staring back down at you, strands of grown hair falling into his eyes. He huffs, his hair flying up before falling back down into his eyes, making him groan in annoyance.

You let out a laugh, brushing his hair back once more, your other hand tracing his cheekbones. “What would I do without you?” You murmured softly, eyes softening as you took him in.

“Well, you mustn't think of such things, my princess.” He scolded playfully, pulling off his gloves so he can hold you closer. You look up at him, watching his eyes seemingly glow brighter as he looks down at you, like you were everything to him.

Before either one of you could speak, you hear a knock on the door, making the two of you freeze up. You blink, quickly getting up off his lap as you look around for a place to hide him. You hear another knock, making you panic even more.

“Who is it?” You call out, attempting to keep your tone steady.

“Open the door, dear. I brought tea.” The voice of your mother spoke out, making your eyes widen even more.

“Coming, mother!” You reply, dragging Satoru by the arm, hiding him against the wall to the side which the door opened. You quickly turn the knob to the door, pulling it open to greet your mother, successfully veiling your lover.

“Thank you, mother. Are you and father retiring for the night?” You ask casually, taking the cup of tea from her hands, bringing it upwards to take a gentle sip.

“Yes. We have an early day tomorrow, I hope you will sleep soon, dear.” She answers, to which you smile.

You take another sip of the tea, humming in delight. It was a little sweeter than you'd like, but you preferred to have it that way. Not that anyone knew otherwise, they all just assumed you had a sweet tooth from all the sweets you brought up to your room. “Isn't it always an early day in the palace, mother?” You commented cheekily, to which your mother scoffed playfully, leaning forward to gently tug on your cheek. Her eyes glance to the side as she taps her foot against the floor, smiling at your playful behaviour.

“Please. Your day consists of prancing around the village with your knight until your heart's content. You surely aren't opposed to that, are you?” She teased back, watching as you held back a grin, feeling flustered.

“Goodnight, mother.” You sighed lightheartedly, feeling abashed by her comment. She simply nodded, bidding you a farewell for the night. You gently close the door, letting out an instant sigh of relief.

Satoru quickly pops out from his place against the wall, dramatically wiping his brow with a ‘phew’, as he grabs the cup of tea from your hands. He takes a big sip, grinning at the sweet taste. “Something about the tea your mother makes is delicious. Perhaps it's all the love she makes it with.” He mused, pulling you along towards the bed. You followed with no complaints, taking your seat on your bed. He chugs the tea down, setting it by your bedside table. He pulls you back into his arms, laying you down against his chest.

“Say, that other lad, Naoya, was it? From the Zen’in family. He seemed quite interested in you.” Satoru spoke, hoping to keep his tone as neutral as possible so as to not convey his jealousy.

You pause, raising a brow at his words. You had an inkling of what the conversation was leading to. “Prince Naoya? Perhaps. But truly, he's an insolent fool. He's selfish, and very rude to my caretakers. It's unbecoming of a leader.” You spoke, voice laced with irritation at the mere mention of the prince’s name.

“He does seem like the type. I won't argue with that. I think your parents and his parents got along quite well at the last gathering…” he spoke quietly, running a hand through your hair.

You now knew very well of his implications, and you knew he wasn't lying. You hated how things were. Your parents surely loved you, yes, but they would absolutely kill Satoru if they had found out about your affair with him. Even if it meant killing the strongest knight, the only one skilled enough to take care of you, even if it meant risking your safety. They would never allow you to marry him.

They had always implied that they would be marrying you into a strong family, and they would always get upset if you had a strong, opposing reaction to such comments. It made you feel trapped. “I'd rather die than marry a man the likes of Naoya.” You gritted out, grip tightening on Satoru's arms.

“Woah there, princess. You're going to scratch off your knight’s muscles if you keep gripping him like that.” Satoru teased you by lightening up your mood, laying you back against the mattress of your bed. You glanced up at him, unable to stop yourself from smiling. He leaned down, pecking your lips. “It's quite.. sensual, seeing you react in such ways at the mention of other suitors..” he commented, eyes clouding over with pure love and admiration as he leaned down, lips caressing each inch of the skin on your neck, as if worshiping it.

“Say, is your feline asleep? Sound asleep?” Satoru asked, finally addressing your cat, fast asleep in the corner of your room. She was quiet, sweet and very doting when it came to you. As of right now, she snoozes in the corner of your room, brown fur fluffy as ever, as she was quite pampered by you and the entire kingdom.

“Yes, darling. She's asleep.” You sigh, shaking your head at him. Satoru's grin suddenly widens, finding himself and his touch become more daring. “So you won't mind if I..?” He doesn't say more, his hands coming up to cup your face as he gives you a peck, fingers ghosting over your skin, moving lower and lower.

His fingers trailed down your bare arms, to your waist. His fingers roam behind your back, finding the knots to your nightgown. “May i?” He asked softly, to which you nodded, allowing yourself to be lost in his arms for another night.

♡︎

“Your knight is here to see you.” Your mother spoke, tone remaining neutral. You blinked, gaze slowly moving over to her. You breathed in slowly, exhaling shakily.

“Allow him in, please.” Your weak voice had spoken out, to which your mother closed her eyes, tears threatening to spill.

“You do realize you are going to die soon, yes?” She spoke, voice cracking in the slightest. She clenched her fists, gripping a napkin in one hand.

You pause, taking a minute to formulate an answer. You knew that. Very well. But you had wanted it. Wanted this. You'd much rather spend your last moments breathing with the love of your life, than be alive in the arms of another man.

Taking another deep breath, you began speaking. “Mother, I love him. I have for the past few years. And I cannot–” your mother cuts you off, holding a hand up. You silence yourself, deflating.

“I know. Save your breath for him. You don't think I notice every time I come to give you your tea? Dear, the gaps in your door are not that small. I can see him quite easily. And I know my daughter. She loves her sweet things but she much rather would prefer a milder sweet. And everyone in the kingdom knows of knight Gojo’s sweet tooth. You are your mother's daughter, of course i would notice. I'm sorry I couldn't stop your father from taking the engagement with Prince Naoya forward. If only I'd have known it would make you this sick.” Your mother spoke, sorrow evident in her voice. But what was done had been done. Your engagement could not be called off. Just like your death would be impending.

“I'll let him in. At least let me say goodbye to my child.” She mumbled, breaking into tears as she hugged you tightly for what seemed like the first time in months, but what would be the last time ever as well. You let out a shaky exhale, finding some strength in you to hug her back.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, tears slipping down her face. You couldn't muster the energy in you to say much more, letting her hug you. She pulled away after a moment, wiping her face and tears. “I'll send him in.” She murmured, head lowered in melancholia.

You simply nodded, taking in the room around you. It was around mid December, and as you glanced out the window, you could see snow falling. It made you smile. Your eyes move back towards your chamber, and the sound of wood crackling can be heard from the fireplace. The only source of light and heat in the room you were in. Gone was the large, spacious bedroom with a floor to ceiling canopy around a large bed. Now remains a shell of what once was, with you having been moved into a smaller, cozier room in your final days. The once lavish and large bed for your feline, was now replaced by a few warm, fluffy blankets. Your dear cat, ever the wisdom filled companion, showed no signs of discomfort at such a change, simply sitting by your side every time she felt you were suffering the most.

“You're awake,” Satoru said as he walked into your room, voice uncharacteristically soft. He closed the door behind him, large strides carrying him to the wooden chair beside your bed. You nodded up at him, hand twitching as you glanced at his own. Wordlessly, he reached out, taking your unnaturally cold hand into his warm ones. “Why?” He spoke, voice threatening to break.

“Whatever do you mean?” You asked quietly, glancing up at him, he let out a breathy exhale, shaking his head.

He closed his eyes, swallowing sharply. Your eyes watched as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down from the movement, frosty lashes brushing against his cheeks. He looked beautiful in the glow of the fire. “You were fine a week ago. Perfectly fine. Your reports say so. But as soon as your engagement was announced to you, you fell ill? To the point of your death looming upon you?! Forgive me, my life, but I simply refuse to believe that this is a natural illness.” Satoru spoke with a clenched jaw, unable to hold back his emotions from now on.

You blinked up at him, a small, tired smile coming over your face. “I told you I'd rather die than marry him.” You whispered, watching as a singular tear cascaded down his cheek.

“We could've ran away together, darling!” He cried out, licking his lips as he felt his mouth start to go dry. You sighed, shakily reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb wiping away the tear threatening to fall from his jaw.

Shaking your head, you answered. “We could not. Escape and go where? To the neighboring kingdoms that knew of our father? Or perhaps the faraway ones that were sworn enemies to our palace? It was no use, my dearest.” You whispered softly, tears welling up in your own eyes.

“And poisoning yourself was the only solution?!” He yelled out, eyes widened in disbelief and sorrow.

“Yes, Satoru!” You yelled back, holding back a cough. “Yes, it was! I'm terrified of being away from you, I cannot do it. I cannot live without you. The prince looks down upon women more than any man I've ever come across in my life. I would have suffered greatly there, and without you couldn't have functioned. I refuse to live on without you. That's the path I have chosen. And it is done, Satoru.” You answered, voice growing weaker and weaker as your body began to tremble with your pained sobs. Satoru reached out, cradling your head to his chest as he wiped your tears, kissing your head.

“And how do you expect me to live, my love?” he asked, his tears slipping into your hair. “How will I live now? Who will I protect? Whose tea will I steal now? Hm?” he asked, clutching you harder to his chest. He felt a sob escape his lips, your head tilting up.

You reached up, wiping his face clean, finger pressing against his lips, swollen from his crying. “Shh, my beloved. We'll meet again. In a life with no restrictions, no rules and traditions holding us back. We'll love freely, and we'll explore this beautiful world without anyone stopping us.” You whispered softly, watching him lean down to kiss your head.

As your crying slowed down, you smiled weakly. “Satoru, it's cold. Can you hold me?” You asked, voice growing quieter and quieter. Without another word, Satoru got up from his place, squeezing into your small bed with your body held against his.

“I'm here, my love. I promise you I am. And I'll be here. Don't worry. You can rest well now.” Satoru mumbled shakily, willing himself not to cry as you truly approached your last moments. You swallowed shakily, feeling yourself wince at the feeling.

“I love you.” You mumbled softly, your throat beginning to hurt. Satoru leaned down, kissing you one last time. Unwillingly, a tear slipped down his face, making its way between your locked lips, the salty taste making you pull back. “It's cold, Satoru.” You echoed, body trembling.

“Shhh, I know it is, darling. I know. I love you so much. I'm here, hm? Just rest, my life. I've got you, always. We'll meet again, right?” He mumbled reassuringly, as you mustered the last of your energy to smile up at him, eyes closing. “I'll see you then, I promise.” He whispered, clutching you against his chest until he felt you go limp.

In the distance, by the large window bringing in the moonlight of the late hours of the night, a small, fluffy and brown creature sat, taking its leave the moment it felt your soul leave its vessel.

Satoru Gojo, if you do not come back here this instant!” Called out the caretaker of said boy, watching him run around the Gojo estate, away from her. She sighed, turning back to the couple in front of her. “My apologies, I'll get him back.” She mumbled, calling out to the boy once more. “No kikufuku tonight if you keep this up, sir Gojo!” She called, to which he froze, running back towards her.

She sighed in relief, turning towards the couple once more. “These are your two teachers, Gojo. She'll be teaching you Jujutsu history, while her husband will teach you how to read and write Kanji.” She explained to the young boy, to which he blinked, already bored. The couple introduced themselves one by one, smiling down at the boy.

“And what about the younger one?” He asked, striking blue eyes staring into the soul of the older woman. She blinked in surprise, though chuckled in response. Of course, she shouldn't expect any less from Gojo Satoru, user of limitless and the six eyes. A jujutsu technique passed down uniquely in the Gojo clan. The world balance had been tipped at the birth of this young boy. It was impressive, to say the least.

She smiled, stepping to the side to reveal a young child, who quickly shuffled back behind the older woman, peeking her head to blink up at the boy. “This is my daughter,” she introduces the child to Gojo, saying your name to him. He simply blinked in response, shrugging.

And from that day onwards, Gojo Satoru had daily lessons from his tutors, taking breaks to play with you and get to know you more. He learned that you had your own cursed technique, albeit very weak and nothing like his. He had to give you credit though, you were strong for your age. Not as strong as him, but pretty strong for an average kid. Though it was clear you wouldn't be taking it further. You seemed to really be well educated on your technique and there was a clear passion in your eyes when you asked him about his technique.

You both would spend your days frolicking around the estate, talking to each other about your techniques and what you'd learned that day. There were a few places within the estate you both were familiar with. The garden with the pristine, white roses, where the gardener would chide you both for getting too close. The spot behind the fountains, where you both would throw stones into the water streaming in the ponds. The spot near the very back of the estate, where a very wise and striking cat you both adored would roam. A fluffy, brown cat, seemingly always popping out at the most high tension moments, easing the atmosphere between you both.

Satoru found himself fascinated by your presence. Someone who was finally his age and not a grown man telling him what he should do and shouldn't do. You were really sweet to him, too. He found it easy to talk to you about anything and everything, something about you was inviting. Unlike anything he was used to, in the Gojo clan.

“Satoru, where's your mom? I've never seen her around.” You asked him one day as you both set out on an adventure, sneaking out of the estate to go explore.

“She's gone. They took her away because she was weak. I don't see her anymore.” He explained, voice indifferent. You looked up, brows furrowed in worry.

“Do you miss her?” You asked, watching the young boy think for a moment. He shrugged, glancing back at you.

“Not really. I never saw her much anyways.” He answered honestly, pulling your hand closer as you both walked through a crowd.

“Hey, what was that for?!” He yelled out, face flushed. You giggled, squeezing his hand. He tugged you along through the crowded streets, not glancing back at you so as not to fluster himself even more. But he could still see you, with his six eyes. He'd never lose sight of you, ever.

You hum in response, pecking his cheek. “That's okay! You can always ask my mom for.. a hug or something if you want. I'm sure it'll be the same.” You grinned, watching satoru's eyes widen as he blinked, a blush covering his face.

♡︎

And so you were fifteen, both early teenagers still playing around and messing with each other. You still practiced hard together, even though Satoru would win more than half of the time. The time had come around to discuss the fact that Satoru would be going to Jujutsu tech for his studies further on, and he had the brilliant idea to have you admitted with him. You were insanely smart, knowing both Japanese and English fluently, and you were actually pretty skilled when it came to your technique and combat. As Satoru brought up the idea to you, you were nervous. But definitely excited for what was to come. Surely, it was a no brainer to have you around, no?

“What do you mean no?!” Satoru yelled out in disbelief, watching as the Gojo clan higher ups outright refused his offer. He was ready to fight for your rights to go to the school, as you deserved it way more than he did (or maybe not more than him.. but still!). The dedication that you put in was undeniable.

“It means no. The girl is weak. With her skill, she'll barely make it to grade 2. She's not worthy enough for it.” One of them stated as if it were a fact, making Satoru's blood boil.

“How dare you say that. She's better than most of you bastards in here! Her wits and skills aren't to be judged by the likes of you.” He gritted out, jaw clenched.

“Only you will be going to Jujutsu tech. And that's final. You are dismissed.” One of the others spoke, to which Satoru groaned, leaving the room with a loud slam of the door.

And as you stood outside, it was like something in your eyes had changed. The sad, knowing smile on your lips only upset him further, pissing him off to no end.

“It didn't work.” He answered plainly, to which you sighed, nodding.

“I should've known it wouldn't. That's okay. When you come back to visit you can tell me all about it, okay?” You smiled up at him, eyes still somber. Satoru stared back at you, his eyes filled with a determination you were absolutely no stranger to.

You reached out, grabbing his hand in your own, interlocking your fingers with his. You gave them a squeeze, reassuring him that you'd be okay.

♡︎

And so he set off on his journey to jujutsu high, with him having arranged living quarters for you and your parents after he'd left. Even though your parents wouldn't be teaching him anymore, he still respected them (mainly because of you), so he had a small living area built for your family, not too far from the estate but not joined to it. The Gojo clan had been highly opposed to this addition, and you knew of this. But they knew better than to test Gojo Satoru, so they abided.

He would often visit a lot in the beginning, telling you all about his friends Suguru and Shoko. You listened attentively, taking note of how he'd grown taller in height, gotten stronger and had started wearing those glasses to help him with his six eyes. He'd shown you photographs of his friends, they were interesting. You were glad to see him get along with them well.

Overtime, he grew more and more busier, being given more missions and more important work. The last you'd heard was before he had set off on the mission with Suguru to find the star plasma vessel. You'd heard of what had gone down, and the higher ups had only pushed more and more upon Satoru.

You heard he got stronger and stronger, how he almost died to a man who had heavenly restriction. He also learned to keep his infinity on at all times, and his reverse cursed technique had improved tenfold.

And so as you sat on a tatami mat, reading a literature book with the sounds of water flowing nearby, you felt the hair on your neck stand up, the impending sense of doom creeping up on you.

Meanwhile, Satoru was busy with a mission to kill a special grade curse, finding himself dealing with a handful of curses at the moment. As he fought, he felt a shiver run up his spine. These curses were weak. It wasn't them, and he knew. He took off his glasses, adjusting to the overwhelming experience of having six eyes. He continued to fight as he tried pinpointing the problem. As he realized what was happening, he froze up, eyes widening. In a blink of an eye, the curses had been massacred, and Gojo Satoru had fled the scene instantly.

Instead, he teleported to the offhand estate on the Gojo clan’s land, finding himself face to face with an eerie silence. Usually, he would be greeted with the pleasant smell of whatever your mother had made, and the sight of you rushing to embrace him. You always knew when he'd teleport over, but not this time, it seemed.

He quickly rushed into the place, walking through the front door, only to be met with the sight of blood, making his breath hitch. With widened eyes, he saw the bloody scene of your parents’ murdered bodies lying on the floor of your living room, and he rushed through the house to find you.

Running into the backroom, he remembers how you were almost always found in the room, reading a book with a cup of tea that had gone cold by your side. And when he entered, he saw your beloved book lying on the floor, covered in your blood. He rushed over to your body, shaking you slightly with trembling hands. “Hey! Hey! I'm here! It's okay! Tell me who did this to you!” He called out, watching your eyes open to glance up at him weakly.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, holding you close. “Who was it?” He asked, eyes filled with panic and anger. His tone of voice was cold, quiet, but the underlying sense of rage was clear cut.

“Who else?” You mumbled weakly, giving him a smile. He knew it had been the higher ups of the clan. They had wanted to get rid of you the moment you'd grown close to Satoru, but you were no force to be reckoned with. Especially with how much Satoru cherished you. They saw you aw a nuisance to Satoru's priorities, questioning where they lied when they saw him spending more time with you instead of updating them on his missions when he came back home to visit. He held you tighter against him, letting out a deep breath.

“You fought back, right? I know you did.” Satoru asked, hoping to keep you awake as he speed walked through the place, pointedly holding your head to his chest to avoid having your deceased parents in your line of sight.

“Made them bleed.” You slurred out, smiling weakly. Satoru let out a strained smile, making his way to the higher ups in large strides.

“Satoru?” You called out, to which he hummed, focused in on his task of going into the estate and killing every single one of them. “Stop.” You added, to which he paused, glancing down at you. You looked up, reaching out to cup his cheek.

“Always knew you'd make it far,” you added, smiling up at him again. Satoru sighed shakily, holding you tighter against him. “You know I love you, hm?” You mumbled, cheek squished against his chest. He licked his lips, finding himself at a loss of words. Of course he knew. He wanted to wait until he was older, stronger, and done with school until he'd ask you out, marry you and live with you. And then he'd let you train more with him, so you both could be sorcerers together.

“I know. And I love you. Swear it. We were gonna live together. Without those damned bastards telling us what to do. If only I was stronger, if only I got there sooner-” he mumbled, to which you cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Shh, ‘s okay. In another life, hm?” you mumbled to him, staring up at him with a fondness in your eyes. And as he stared back at you, you saw that same look in his eyes as the light from your own had faded, right in his arms.

And so once again, the cat you both had familiarized yourselves with, had set off another adventure, finding no use for staying within the same area after your departure.

And can you tilt your head a little higher? Perfect.” You guided the man in front of you, focusing on your canvas in front of you.

You were a painter, either drowning in riches or struggling to pay rent. You had the higher class as your clients, and you mainly got a lot of people asking for your work near wedding dates, or as gifts to lovers.

Your muse was an aristocrat, a child of one of your clients. It was your client's second marriage, and Gojo Satoru, your muse, had been his child from the first marriage. You sat in the wedding, quietly painting the scenery and the couple.

He had approached you quietly, his blue eyes observing you for some time now. “How much did that old man pay you for this service?” he had asked, to which you paused, sipping your wine.

“I don't think i can disclose that information to you,” you mused, turning back to your paints.

The man in question sighed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on. I'm the man's child. Surely you can?” He raised a brow, to which you hummed.

“three thousand and two hundred dollars.” you answered plainly, to which he looked thoroughly amused. Now, for the time, it was a lot of money. He wasn't too surprised his father had money to blow, but still.

“Think you could maybe sneak in a jester? A clown? Something to add humor to the painting?” He asked, sipping his glass of champagne.

You let out an amused laugh at his words, stopping short as he hadn't laughed along. He wasn't serious, was he? “And why would I do that?” you asked, raising a brow at him. He hummed, as if thinking hard about his answer.

“I'll pay you more. And my father's a scum. It'll give me something to laugh about, everytime i visit his estate.” He answered, as if it was beneficial to you. Well– maybe the extra money was, but still!

“Is that all?” You asked, taking another sip of your wine. He paused, blinking. What else could he possibly offer? Ah!

“I'll recommend you to everyone I know who's holding an important event. It'll be a good way to make sure you have clients coming in and out. I'm really good at convincing people, trust me.” He grinned with pride, finally sitting down on a chair beside you. You sigh, contemplating his words. “It'll be our little secret, I promise.” He winked, flashing you a charming smile.

Sighing, you give into his antics, finding yourself craving a little bit of enjoyment anyway. “Fine, I'll do so.” You mumbled, beginning to draw out a jester in the corner of the painting, by the other crowd of people drawn out. It stood out a little, but not too much. Slowly but surely, you painted and painted, watching as romance bloomed in between different couples as the night progressed, your focus entirely on the painting. And during the whole time, Satoru had been by your side, entertaining your otherwise dull session. As everyone begins to crowd onto the center of the room, finding partners to dance with, you continue painting.

“How about a dance. Just for a break.” Satoru suggested, holding his hand out to you. You blinked up at him, letting out a laugh.

“Dancing with someone of the lower class? Is that not ill fitting for you?” You had teased him, to which he shook his head, holding his hand out closer.

“Oh, please. Who really cares about any of that. If I see a pretty woman, I'm going to want to dance, regardless.” He answered smoothly, pulling you up from your chair, guiding you towards the dance floor. He placed a hand over your waist, the other gripping your hand in his. Your free hand found home on his shoulder, as you both began to sway.

“What a dancer you are, dear painter.” He mused, pulling you closer as you began to waltz. You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head.

You let out a sigh, biting your lip as you pondered on your words. “I learned when I was young. My mother enjoyed learning the ways of the aristocracy. We never were close to such, but i think she'd be happy to know her skills she taught me have come to use in an event such as this.” You explained, feeling Satoru's blue eyes focusing on your face in wonder.

He hummed, finding your words fascinating. “That's interesting. I've only ever known this life. Not much amuses me in this world, honestly.” He spoke earnestly, finding no need to sugarcoat his words. You listen thoughtfully, nodding along.

“Being of the lower class puts things into perspective, I feel. I've learned to compromise a lot of my life, and it's made me appreciate many things in my life. I see myself enjoying a lot of things. But I conceal most of my fascinations. Only because I know it's something that can be easily taken advantage of.” You elaborate more on your life, finding it easy to talk about your life to him.

“Yet here you are, telling me all about yourself.” He mused softly, to which you chuckled.

“You learn to gamble on stuff like this. Even if you ruin my life from this point onwards, it's okay. I've not much to lose, surely.” You smiled up at him, making his heart race. He held you closer, finding himself entranced by you, a complete stranger.

And as the song ended, you both slowly, reluctantly pulled away. And as you reapproached your seats, you diligently began finishing up the details of the painting.

“Ah, is the portrait finished?” The bride approached out of nowhere, making you jump in your seat.

“Oh, yes. It is. Just adding some final details.” You nodded, smiling up at her. She grinned, observing the painting.

She looked closely, a confused frown coming over her features. “Is that.. a clown?” She asked, pointing to the figure you'd drawn, as per Satoru's request.

You blinked, lips parting. You glanced at Satoru on the sides, who held back a laugh. “A jester. An entertainer for a king, a sign of significance. A jester symbolizes prestige and class, i thought it would be very fitting, with the era portraits originate from.” You explained to her, and her eyes lit up in delight, finding the detail to be a perfect addition. She thanked you quickly, walking off towards her newly wedded husband.

“Is that actually what jesters symbolize?” Satoru asked, gaping at you. You simply blinked up at him, shrugging.

“I haven't a clue,” you answered, making the male burst into a fit of laughter.

♡︎

“You've been awfully silent.” Satoru spoke aloud, snapping you out of your trance. You had been focused on your painting. Your last painting of him.

“I was reminiscing, apologies.” You mumbled, painting out the features of his face. His beautiful, glowing eyes. His lips, full of life. His snowy white lashes and hair.

“I'm sure you'll be doing a lot more of that in the future,” Satoru added, to which you winced, lips pursed. “You know we can run away, yes? Start anew. You don't need to do this.” Satoru pleaded, to which you looked away, gaze downcast.

“My mother is dying, Satoru. It's her dying wish. I can't abandon her like that.” You explained grimly, feeling your grip on your paintbrush tighten.

“But you can abandon me?!” Satoru yelled out, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“Yes, Satoru! Because you aren't dying! Because you'll find someone better! You'll find someone worth being wedded to you! Someone of your class, Satoru.” You cried out in response, feeling your heart crush at his expression.

“I don't want someone in my class! I don't want any of that! I don't wish for fancy meals and ballrooms. With you, even stale bread would suffice, for God's sake!” he responded, pleading with you as he got down on his knees in front of you.

“Satoru, my love, I can't. You know how much I love you, I'd never love another. But my mother..” you whispered to him, biting your lip to stop the tears from falling. You leaned down, forehead leaning against his.

He opened his eyes to look into yours, eyes filled with blue. Not just hues of said color, but pure and utter sadness. “Please, sweetheart. I love you too much,” he whispered, gripping onto your hands that were cupping his face.

You felt the tears slip from your eyes and onto his cheeks as you leaned down to give him one final kiss. “I'm sorry, Satoru. I truly am. In another life, I'm sure I'll find my way back to you. You're my true home.” You whispered, pulling him into your embrace to hug him one last time. Slowly, you pulled away, approaching the carriage that stood outside for you.

And as Satoru stood there, watching you leave, you looked back at him. The look in his eyes was one that you'd never forget. One you knew would haunt you when you'd fall asleep beside a stranger you married just for the sake of appeasing to another's wishes. And as Satoru looked into your eyes one final time, he could tell what remained inside was a shell of who you once were, as if you had truly died in his arms mere seconds ago.

Watching silently, a familiar feline sat perched on a wall during the early hours of the night, shielded from the gloomy rain that encapsulated both you and Satoru. The cat observed further, lifting a brown, furry paw to lick clean, fleeing the scene once more.

"Do you know this man, Mimi? Nana?” You, a preschool teacher, had asked two of your students, when a strange man had approached them, calling out to them in an irritatingly loud voice, waving his long limbs without a care.

“Unfortunately,” Mimiko sighed, to which you blinked. Mimiko was the quieter of the two twins, but she could be pretty blunt when needed. Megumi, who had been standing by your other side, simply glared at the male, finding his presence way more annoying than anticipated.

“Hey, that's rude! You should be thanking your uncle for picking you both up!” The man in question huffed, crossing his arms. “Kids these days, man.” He mumbled to himself, stopping short when he glanced up at you. You met eyes with him, freezing up. His gaze had you captivated. You looked into gorgeous blue eyes that held emotions you'd never experienced before, all hitting you within the same moment. Your breath hitched as you stared on, feeling the need to inhale deeply.

The man himself had been stunned, experiencing the same emotions you'd felt. He blinked, snapping you both out of your trance. “Well hello there,” he greeted with a bright grin, leaning back against his car. You purse your lips, glancing down at the three kids in front of you. Nanako seemed unamused, while Mimiko looked mortified. Megumi, on the other hand, had felt his blood boil, standing in front of you to protect you from this insolent fool! He couldn't believe this obnoxious man was making a move on you!

“How about you two sit down inside the car? We can head out to get some fast food?” He offered, to which the girls happily jumped into the expensive car. He turned back to face you, as you raised a brow at him. “My name's Satoru Gojo. I'm their dad's best friend. I'll be picking them up occasionally when their dad is busy. Hope that isn't too much of a problem for you, gorgeous.” He smiled charmingly, looking into your eyes to incite that same moment from earlier. Glancing down at Megumi, you gave him a smile and a pat on the head.

You finally sighed, giving him your name. His grin brightened, finding your name to be the most fascinating thing he'd ever heard, as he repeated the syllables endlessly. “Yes, that is my name,” you sighed in amusement, giving him a smile. For some reason, you felt drawn to him, and you couldn't explain why.

“And this is Megumi. He's one of my precious students.” You introduced the young boy, and he sneered at the man once Satoru met his gaze.

Satoru pursed his lips, nodding his head. “Oh, he looks precious, for sure..” Satoru mused, grinning down at the boy. You gave an unamused glance, huffing at the pure immature response from the man. Satoru blinked in response, clearing his throat.

“Anyways, I think we should exchange numbers, y'know? In case I'm coming to pick them up or you need to reach out to me for an emergency since Suguru might be busy with work.” you glanced up at him in amusement, finding it hard to refuse his offer. You agreed with a small glance towards Megumi, and you both exchanged numbers. You bid farewell to both the girls, then to Satoru as they drove off.

A week or so after, as the kids in your classroom napped, you planned out the next day, cleaning up the room a bit.

Meanwhile, Satoru was insisting with Suguru to pick up the girls again, finding it oddly difficult. “Come on, let me go pick up the girls again! You just rest, okay? I'll handle it, because I'm a good friend!” Satoru reasoned, to which Suguru raised a brow, crossing his muscled arms.

“Picking up my daughters isn't a tedious task, I enjoy it, y'know?” Suguru commented, unamused. Satoru sighed, groaning.

Finding this method to not be working, Satoru attempted something else. “I know! They're a joy to be around, that's exactly why I wanna pick them up again! And again! And again! So please?” He pleaded, to which Suguru sighed.

“Is it because of their teacher?” Suguru asked with a sigh, to which Satoru instantly froze up.

“Psh, no! What makes you think that?!” He laughed out loud, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand.

“Satoru, it's okay to admit it. I know she's beautiful, I get it.” Suguru assured his friend, finding the truth to be undeniable.

“Wait, you're not into her, are you?” Satoru asked, pausing his thoughts and not thinking about his attraction for a second in case his friend was already into you.

“No, Satoru. I'm not.” Suguru chuckled, finding humor in the situation. The white haired male let out a sigh or relief, wiping his brow.

“phew. Yeah, she's really hot. And pretty. And gorgeous. I swear Suguru the moment i made eye contact with her it was like love at first sight! Like it was like I'd seen her somewhere before, but also not? I can't explain it but we're soulmates, I can feel it, Suguru!” Satoru exclaimed dramatically, to which Suguru simply sighed, shaking his head.

“Just go already.” Suguru shooed him off, watching Satoru cheer and running off towards his car. And so he drove towards the preschool, even though school would be off for the girls thirty minutes later.

“Satoru? You're here way too early.” You mumbled, watching as the man peeked into the room, taking note of the kids sleeping. He looked up, lips formed into an ‘o’ as he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I was excited.” He explained as you both sat outside the classroom, and you raised a brow.

“Excited to pick up the girls?” You asked in amusement, to which he sputtered.

“Um.. yeah. Really excited to see them,” He mumbled, to which you nodded at him, encouraging him to continue.” “...and maybe you, too.” He mumbled the words hurriedly, to which you smiled.

“There we go. Not so hard to tell the truth, is it?” You teased, watching the man huff in response. He cleared his throat, shaking his head as he glanced back at you.

“You're really pretty, you know that?” He sighed dreamily, leaning his head on his palm as he spoke.

“Or so you've told, yes,” you chuckled, glancing down at your phone to check the time. Satoru took note of the picture you had as your wallpaper. It was you with your entire class.

“Say, did you always wanna be a preschool teacher?” He asked, curious about you.

You hummed, pursing your lips as you thought about your answer. “I mean, pretty much? I've always had a maternal love towards children. I knew I wanted to work with kids from a pretty young age. I think it's important to shape the youth with kindness, and I know if I can, I should.” You spoke gently, smiling up at him.

“That's really cool. You must be the oldest child in the family, huh?” He commented, thinking hard about what you would've been like as an elder sibling.

You chuckled at his words, shaking your head. “No, actually. I'm the youngest. Never really had a younger sibling to care for, but I always wanted to. So I guess that's probably why,” you shrugged, to which Satoru looked surprised.

“Do you want kids of your own one day?” He asked further, curious about everything to do with you. He knew you had a special relationship with all your students in the class, and he could imagine you'd make a wonderful mother. He can just see it in his future already. The thought made him feel giddy inside, already envisioning your guys’ future family of seven kids! Maybe seven was a stretch, but Satoru was willing to negotiate.

“Maybe? Probably. Really, it's just a matter of where life takes me.” you answered earnestly, glancing around at the view outside the preschool. “And what about you, Satoru?” You asked him with a smile, watching him think for a moment.

“I think so too, yeah.” He answered after a moment of silence, nodding his head at you. “You're quite young right now, yes? I think you're the same age as Suguru and I, he mentioned that one time.” Satoru noted, humming slightly.

“It's impressive, truly. He's raising two kids alone from a young age. And they're such beautiful little girls with the purest hearts ever.” You commented, finding Suguru's parenting skills to be truly impressive.

Satoru nodded along, smiling slightly. “We were all still kind of young when he adopted the two. We were quite stupid and unsure of what to do, but Suguru just played his role instantly. It was admirable, really.” He commented, stretching his legs out.

“I'm sure he's proud of the girls. All his efforts pay off the moment he sees how great they'll do in life. They're really clever, it's never failed to amaze me.” You chuckled, glancing at your phone once more. “I think most of my students are very clever. Megumi has a very keen sense of emotional intelligence, but he's not very good at communicating those emotions. But I know he's a great kid, and he'll do great things.” You commented, eyes softening at the mention of the child.

“Is Megumi someone important to you? You seem close to everyone, but especially to him.” Satoru asked, and you smiled.

“Megumi’s mother isn't present in his life, she passed away earlier. His father isn't the most… attentive to his cares and needs, and Tsumiki, his older sister. So Megumi used to walk to school and back. I've gotten through his thick shell, so I've been taking care of him more often. I don't know how long his father intends to stay, and there's no telling if he'll even come back sometimes from what Megumi tells me about his dad's business trips. And I've been thinking of legally adopting Megumi. By extension I'd be adopting Tsumiki as well, and I'm okay with that too.” You explained gently, and Satoru simply blinked, taking in your words.

He remained silent for a moment, letting the words sink in. “You really care for them, don't you?” He spoke softly, and you gave him a small, sweet smile, nodding your head.

“It's time to wake the kids up. Their parents should be arriving soon, as well.” You noted, getting up from your place to wake up the children. You quietly open the door to your classroom, allowing Satoru to step in. You turn on some of the lights, slowly approaching your children to wake them up. “Come on, guys. Your parents are coming soon! It's time to go home, hm?” You spoke quietly, gently rubbing their backs one by one.

And soon, they all begin to wake up, and you take your time with each child, helping them up and get freshened up as much as they can. You see Mimiko and Nanako continue to lay down, and you let it be, as Satoru was here anyways. Slowly but surely, each child gets picked up by their parents, leaving behind you, Megumi, Mimiko and Nanako, and Satoru. Megumi leaned against your frame, still sleepy from his nap.

“You again?” Nanako grumbled crankily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Yes, me again. Come on, let's get you home,” Satoru chuckled, grabbing Nanako into his arms, as the girl clung onto his neck, sleep still overtaking her mind. Mimiko frowns, holding out her arms to Satoru as well. Satoru wastes no time to lean down to grab the other girl, but you stop him, taking her into your own arms. You reach a hand to grab Megumi's hand, and he squeezes your palm as he walks alongside you, more conscious than the other two girls.

“You won't be able to carry two sleepy girls on your own, it's okay.” you explained, shutting the classroom door as you three began to walk towards Satoru's car. You both quickly place the now asleep girls into the car, quietly shutting the door.

“I'll give you a ride home?” Satoru suggested, rubbing his hands together. You smiled up at him, shaking your head.

“Thank you for the offer, Satoru. I've got my own car though, and I need to drop off Megumi, so that won't be necessary.” You explain politely, pointing to another car in the parking lot.

Satoru looked slightly disappointed, but he didn't say much otherwise. “Ah, I see. Well, would you be okay with.. going out to dinner with me, maybe? Or for lunch, or something of that sort. Some other day, of course! When you don't have classes.” He asked, eyes hopeful as he glanced down at you through frosted lashes.

You smiled up at him, letting out a small laugh. “I'd be delighted, Satoru.” You mumble fondly, unable to hold back your adoration towards the man you'd gotten to know. He grinned back at you, silently cheering.

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Let me know when your schedule frees up, then? And we can plan something. It's a date, then!” Satoru mused, to which you let out a laugh, eyes crinkling with a newfound fondness. Megumi, who had been silently judging this whole time, let out a groan, eyes scrutinizing Satoru.

“That was lame, dude.” He commented in a bored tone, unimpressed with Satoru's antics. Satoru gaped at the young boy in offense, and you let out another laugh, gently rubbing Megumi's head.

“Get home safely, Satoru.” You bid him farewell, and he grinned up at you, waving goodbye to both you and Megumi, to which the young boy pointedly ignored.

♡︎

I didn't realize you both were the girls’ fathers. Congratulations on your relationship.” You spoke with a serious face to the two men sitting in front of you. Normally, only Suguru would be in attendance for the parent-teacher meetings you had. But this time, Satoru was present with him.

Satoru gaped, waving his hands. “No, it's not like that! Come on!” Satoru whined, to which Suguru paid no mind.

“He insisted on tagging along, I tried my best to keep him out but even Mimi and Nana didn't want to be in the same room with him while I talked to you.” Suguru explained, and you let out a sound of understanding, nodding your head.

“That's alright, we'll just go over how the girls have been learning and behaving, as always.” You nodded, pulling out the files you'd made for both the girls.

Once the meeting had ended, you chatted with the two for a while, until Mimiko burst into the room, mumbling an ‘excuse me’.

“Papa, hurry! Come here!” She whisper-yelled, beckoning him over with an urgent look on her face. Suguru instantly got up from his seat, tending to his daughters instantly whenever they asked. That left you and Satoru in the room.

“You still haven't taken me up on that offer for dinner, y'know?” Satoru spoke after a beat of silence, to which you chuckled.

“I'm really sorry, Satoru. I've just been very busy these days with preparing for school days and all, but I should be free this weekend. Maybe we plan something then?” You suggested, to which he brightened up. You guys had been texting way more often over the course of the last few weeks, but you unfortunately never found the time to actually go on a proper date.

“You barely catch a break, how do you manage?” Satoru grumbled, leaning his arms against your desk.

You thought about it for a minute, though it didn't take you too much time to reach your answer. To see your students walk into school everyday and greet you happily, to be excited to learn and see you again, it fills you with an indescribable joy. It was heartwarming enough when they wrote you letters and brought you gifts, but seeing them come in almost everyday that they could, simply because they felt a genuine love and connection to you and your teaching environment. It made you feel accomplished.

You glance around the room where you sat, humming slightly. “Just seeing the kids walk in every early morning with a smile on their face, greeting me with a hug. It reminds me that everything I do is paying off, and these kids have a genuine joy when it comes to learning. I can't control how they are treated and how they feel in the future with future teachers, but I hope they can think back to this time and recognize the versions of themselves that loved learning,” you answered after a moment, tone soft and appreciative of the children you got to care for.

Satoru glanced up at you, taking in the way you spoke about the kids, and about how much enjoyment you got from knowing that those kids felt loved in your presence. “That's a really beautiful answer,” Satoru commented, to which you smiled at him, shaking your head.

“All the credit for the beauty goes to those kids who've made me feel as accomplished as I do. They truly are wonderful, and I know each and every one of them will go on to do great things.” You added, glancing at the files stacked on your table. You were finally done for the day, and it was time to leave. “How about we go and check on Suguru and the girls?” you suggested, and Satoru nodded, getting up off his chair to check in your classroom and the girls and their father.

As you both re-enter your classroom, you become acutely aware of the lack of presence in the room, with only Megumi standing by your desk, backpack strapped to his shoulders. Satoru gasped at the silence and lack of presence within the classroom, shaking his head in disbelief. “They left me!” He cried out dramatically, glancing back at you, as if asking you if what he was seeing was reality.

You let out a small laugh at the situation, unable to hold back from finding humor in the situation. “I'll drive you home. Or perhaps you can come over and I can cook us a nice dinner? As an apology.” You offered, patting Megumi's head once more as the young boy grumbled at the thought of the car ride back home being interrupted with Satoru's obnoxious voice.

Satoru glanced back at you with delight, finding himself growing excited just at the thought of trying your cooking. “That sounds wonderful!” He smiled brightly, nodding back at you.

You guide him and Megumi outside towards your car, after packing up your belongings into your bag. You three make your way into the car, with the drive home being way less quiet with Satoru's constant chatter. You didn't mind it, even for a moment. But Megumi surely did, and it was evident. He sat in the passenger's seat, not allowing Satoru to have the seat.

“Alright, Megumi. See you on Monday! Call me if you need anything, okay?” You wave goodbye to the young boy, who nodded his head, mumbled a ‘take care’.

Satoru moves into the seat beside you, and you drive off towards your house, Satoru continued to chat about his life, detailing his day to day routine to you.

And as you entered your home, you were greeted by the sight of your cute cat waiting for you. You cooed down at her, leaning down to pet her head. “Oh, a cat! What's the name?” Satoru peered down in delight, letting out inaudible noises at the kitty.

“That's my baby, her name's honey.” you answer as you hang your coat by the coat hanger at the entrance of your home, kicking off your shoes. Satoru does the same, watching closely as your cat purred up at him, cuddling up against his leg. “She seems to really like you, I'm surprised.” You comment, pleasantly surprised by how she warmed up to Satoru. You guide him into your living room, gesturing to the couch.

“Make yourself at home, I'll cook something up. I have my ingredients pre prepped for dinner, so it shouldn't take too much time.”

Satoru hummed, following you into the kitchen. He sits down at the marble countertop in your kitchen, with honey jumping into his lap, finding herself curling into a comfortable position. “I'll watch you. Cook dinner, that is.” Satoru mused, fingers running over honey's brown fur.

You smile, pulling out the ingredients for pasta from your fridge. “I hope you don't mind some tomato sauce pasta.” You chuckled, to which Satoru perked up.

“That sounds really delicious. I've been craving pasta for a while, just never got around to eating it. This is a good opportunity, though.” Satoru nodded, watching as you moved around your kitchen, opening drawers and pulling out ingredients and tools, the layout of your kitchen engraved into your head.

“Ever the celebrity Gojo Satoru, unable to get around to eating pasta? Sounds like a stretch,” you teased, watching him roll his eyes lightheartedly.

“Not a celebrity, just cursed to belong to such a family.” Satoru sighed dramatically, glancing down at the cat in his arms. “Say, where's the water?” I'm thirsty.”

You hum, pointing to the water dispenser you had, then to a cabinet above you. “Glasses are up here. Help yourself. There's apple juice in the fridge, if you want.” You answered, busying yourself with dicing an onion into finely sliced pieces. You continue diligently working on the tomato sauce, while satoru slides up behind you, reaching up easily to grab the glass in the overhead cabinet.

He leans forward, taking his sweet time grabbing a glass. “Which one should I grab?”

You tilt your head up to see his towering figure behind yours, looking down at you with an innocent smile. “Whichever one you want, Satoru.” You answer, resuming your chopping with the male still pressed up behind you.

“Oh, but the ones on the left look fancy..” he whistles, grabbing one of the glasses in his hand, as if making a really important decision. “The ones on the right look like they're more for daily use, but the ones on the left are just cuter.. what shall I do..” he stalls, as if deep in thought.

“Just take the ones on the left, it's fine. The way you're taking your time with this is really making me wonder if it's truly a matter of what glass you want. I'm starting to think you just like being close to me.” You mumble sarcastically, to which Satoru scoffs, shaking his head.

“This is truly a big decision, sweetheart. Don't pressure me to make a decision quicker!” Satoru whines, laying his head on top of yours. You let out a laugh, gently nudging your elbow back into his stomach. He lets out a dramatic cry, leaning against your back. “Ouch! That was mean!”

You raise an eyebrow, saying nothing otherwise. Satoru stared back for a moment, before sighing, reluctantly pulling back to drink a glass of apple juice as he sulked.

♡︎

“So, how is it?” You asked, clutching onto your dining table with anticipation as you see Satoru take a bite from his food. The pasta slips past his mouth, the flavors bursting on his tongue the moment they touch his palate.

He looks up, eyes lit with delight. “It's really good. Really good!” He nods enthusiastically, taking another bite. “Not exaggerating, I think this is the best pasta I've ever had.” He mumbled between bites, stuffing his face full.

“That is a bit of an exaggeration, I think.” you let out a laugh, taking a bite from your own plate of pasta. “You're a very messy eater, Satoru.” You chuckled, reaching out with a tissue to wipe the corners of his mouth clean. He simply shrugged, consuming another bite from his food.

“I'll clean up after I finish my plate. I might even go back for seconds, hope that isn't too bad for you.” He grinned, gulping down another sip from his apple juice. You watched him with a look of admiration, feeling yourself drawn to him in ways you've never been drawn to anyone else.

“I don't know why I still feel so inclined to you, even after your messy eating habits.” You sighed playfully, shaking your head. The man in question paused his eating, glancing up at you with a look of disbelief.

“You..” he trailed off, shaking his head. “So it wasn't just me, huh?” Satoru murmured, and you smiled up at him.

“No, it wasn't just you.” You nodded, glancing down at honey for a moment as you prepared yourself to continue. “I don't know what it was. About you. But it was like.. the second I saw you look into my eyes, I knew there was just something.. and it's driving me insane. I've never in my life felt such a way before, with anyone. I pride myself on my emotional intelligence and I'm good at deciphering how I feel and how others feel within seconds. It's something that comes in handy, when you're teaching kids,” you sigh, glancing up at him. But this.. it's left me stumped. I don't know what to make of any of this, it was like I felt a truckload of emotions festering up for eons hit me in just seconds. And you haven't left my mind since. I feel myself waking up in a cold sweat at night, sometimes I wake up sobbing because I've started feeling such an absence of something I had otherwise never felt. And I know it has to do with you because everywhere I look I see your blues in the morning sky, in the colors of a child’s jacket, in the confines of my classroom.”

You inhale deeply, running a hand through your hair. “Gojo Satoru, you haunt my every waking moment since the day I locked eyes with you.” you confess sincerely, watching his grip tighten on his fork, a shiver running down his spine.

“You mean that?” He asked quietly, words almost inaudible. You nod, meeting his gaze once more. He lets out a deep breath, leaning his head back towards the ceiling, closing his eyes shut as he ponders on it all. The connection you had was undeniable. Could you be soulmates? But that wouldn't make sense, it's more of a hypothetical and fictional situation than it is a reality.

It's not like the attraction was just something out of the blue. No, not at all. There was a sense of familiarity to you, one that went beyond normal notions of feeling a sense of nostalgia. It was like it ascended this realm, and the ones before that. “As if I knew you in another life..” Satoru mumbled aloud, and you blinked, feeling everything click in your mind.

“You're right. It is like that.” You nod fervently, pushing up from your place on the table. Satoru does the same, not letting his eyes stray far from you. He takes a step towards you, almost bumping into the table. He lets out a breath, pulling you into his arms. And somehow, everything just felt right in that moment.

“You fit like a glove in my arms,” Satoru commented with a dopey smile, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other brushed through your hair, cupping your face.

You grinned up at him, kissing his palm. He let out a shuddering breath, leaning closer to your face. “Can I?” He asked softly, eyes glancing between your own cloudy ones, and your lips.

“Why rush? We've all the time in the world, Satoru. Let's take it one step at a time, okay?” You mumble, placing your palms against his face, thumbs tracing his cheekbones.

He inhales sharply, swallowing the saliva forming in his mouth. “I'm worried… I won't have time, I feel.. What if something goes wrong? Or,” he pauses, glancing to the side. “Something happens?” He whispers, closing his eyes as he leans his forehead against yours.

“Satoru, nothing will happen. You can't keep living inside your worries. We're here right now, together. So let's live it as it is. Don't worry about the ‘what if’s and the formalities. Everything will be alright.” You speak to him in the softest tone you could muster, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“This is our life, hm? Nobody can take that away from us.” You add, letting out another breath. And maybe the words were wishful thinking, but was it so wrong to indulge in something that felt so right? It was as if this was something you both needed. As if nothing had been right until this very moment.

“Yeah. You're right.” Satoru mumbled, suddenly realizing just what was happening. And in an instant, a heat had risen to his cheeks and ears, his grin becoming more sheepish. “You look really pretty up close, y'know?” He commented sweetly, to which you let out a small laugh.

“Why, thank you, Satoru. I think you're beautiful as well.” You compliment him back with a sweet, almost teasing smile, feeling your heart warm at the look on his face.

---

The sound of shuffling can be heard, and a bleary, sleepy Satoru stirs awake, eyes still blurry from having been awoken so suddenly. On instinct, he pats the space beside him, a small sigh and somber smile coming over his lips as he feels the cold and empty spot beside him. He glances over to his desk to check the time. Nine in the morning. His eyes darted to the photo frame on the desk. From yours and his wedding day. Cheeky and sincere smiles on both your lips.

“Pa, you're finally awake,” whined out the dramatic voice of Gojo Satoru's daughter, tugging at his blanket from the edge of the bed. The man perked up, sitting up to pull the light of his life into his arms.

“Good morning, sweetie! How'd my little girl sleep, huh?” He asked with a bright grin, peppering kisses over his daughter's face.

She smiled up at him, blue eyes strikingly similar to his own flashed up at him, as if sparkling. “Really good! Woke up super early too! Woke Gumi up a while ago too!” She beamed with pride, and Satoru's heart soared with joy.

“Good job, sweetie. I'm proud of you.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to her head as he cuddled her closer into his chest, placing a large, protective hand on her back.

His daughter glanced over at the bedside table, then up at her dad, pouting. “I miss mama,” she mumbled, letting out a loud sigh.

Satoru mirrored the expression, nodding his head. “I know, love, I know. I miss her too.” He mumbled, patting her head. “Come on, let's get ready for the day and wait for breakfast, hm?” He grinned down at her, to which she cheered, leaping up off his lap towards the bathroom.

Once inside, he pulled out a stool from underneath the sink, allowing his daughter to step up to reach the sink easily. He grabbed her toothbrush that they kept in his and your bedroom, spreading a sufficient amount of toothpaste over it. He grabbed his own toothbrush from beside yours, putting the same toothpaste over his toothbrush. The duo then brushed their teeth together, cracking jokes in between. Satoru reached into the cabinets beside the mirror with ease, grabbing two hair bands from inside.

They start with cleansing their faces, Satoru using your cleanser, while your guys’ daughter uses her own face wash. Once all dried, the two apply some of your moisturizer and lip balm, smacking their lips together in an obnoxiously loud manner, giggling at one another.

“Come on, we need to feed honey as well,” Satoru ushered his daughter out, and she rushed towards the beloved cat, still as quiet and wise as ever, waiting patiently by her food bowl.

“Good morning again, Megumi!” Satoru's daughter grinned, giving her brother a small hug first thing in the morning. She skipped her way into the kitchen, eyes lighting up.

“Good morning, honey!” She cooed out at the cat, and Satoru was hit with the nostalgia from years back, whenever he'd witness you greet your beloved cat in the morning. He smiles at the sight, beginning to pull out honey's cat food from the same cabinet you'd always kept it in, while his daughter busied herself sitting up on the chairs by the marble countertop with the help of Megumi, still fresh from the memories of Satoru's first time sitting there.

Honey, the beloved cat of the household simply blinked silently, beginning her trek towards the door of the home. She approaches silently, going unnoticed like she always had. Everytime, in every lifetime, she'd known when to flee, and she'd done so without so much as a bat of an eye, her existence holding meaning in the hearts of many, especially you and Satoru, but was always overshadowed by the sorrow of reality. She was beloved, but only ever known as a beloved cat. That's as far as her acknowledgement went.

“Honey? Where are you headed off to, huh?” Satoru called out, and the feline paused, turning back at the call of her name. Satoru stood beside his daughter, who matched the same look as her father as the two curiously glanced at the cat.

She turns back to the door, letting out a meow as she sits by it. Suddenly, the door turns, opening itself. And you walked in, carrying a box of breakfast pastries and treats. You kicked off your shoes, cooing a greeting at your beloved cat, before turning back to your husband and daughter.

“Mama, you're home!” The girl squealed in excitement, rushing over to you and embracing your legs, nuzzling into your stomach. “I missed you!”

“Good morning, you guys.” You smiled, rubbing Megumi's head like you always did, the teen simply grumbling in response.

You let out a small laugh, running a hand through your daughter's hair next. “You miss me every Sunday when I go out to get breakfast for us, huh?” You teased, shuffling over to place the box of pastries onto the marble countertop. You pulled your daughter into your arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. You walk towards your husband, giving him a smile as you lean forward, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” You greet him as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace.

“Good morning. We missed you loads,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “As we do every Sunday.” Satoru teased, mimicking your words from a second ago. You rolled your eyes at him, giving him a kiss to his cheek.

“I got breakfast, like i always do on Sundays,” you spoke with a pointed look at Satoru, and he let out a laugh.

“Did you get my chocolate croissants?” He asked, mouth already salivating. You nodded up at him, placing your daughter onto the surface of the countertop, carefully pulling out the box with the assortment of treats.

“Yup. And I got your tea. Extra sweetened.” You chuckled, carefully grabbing the plates and utensils. “I called Suguru, he said he'd be coming over with Mimi and Nana soon, too. Will Yuuji and Nobara be joining us?” You turned to Megumi, asking the teen about his two friends. He nodded in response, and you grinned. “Good thing I got extras then, huh?” You joked, to which your daughter giggled, somehow always finding you funny.

“Yuuji’s coming over with his half brother.” Megumi added, and you nodded along, carefully setting up the dining table.

Satoru smiled at the sight, eyes welled up with pure love and adoration. He remembers how he'd wanted seven kids with you at one point, and how he's basically already got that. Your beautiful daughter, then there was Megumi, Nobara, Yuuji, Choso, Mimiko, Nanako. Seven kids. And as he watched how you interacted with your daughter and your now son, the sounds of your laughter filling his heart with joy.

It felt like an unknowing weight had been lifted from his chest, and he was finally able to breathe properly, after what felt like a lifetime. And as he took your warm hands into his own, he felt like maybe, this was finally a lifetime where he truly felt your presence harmonize with his own.

“Satoru, quit staring at me! help me out!” You called out to him, snapping him out of his trance. And as your friends started to roll in, the sound of chatter and happiness echoing off the walls, Satoru felt himself inclined to kiss you once more.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” Satoru mumbled, whisking you away from the crowd to pull you into his arms, holding you tight against him.

“What's with all your sudden clinginess, hm?” You asked him, Satoru swaying you along in a corner, away from the rush of the people.

“Just missed you, is all.” Satoru mumbled, kissing your neck. You glanced up at him, lashes fluttering as you turned around in his arms, bringing yours around his neck as you leaned on the tip of your toes, giving him a lingering kiss. “I love you.” Satoru declared between kisses, and you couldn't help yourself from smiling.

“And I love you, Satoru. In every lifetime.” You whisper to him, feeling his pulse against the side of your chest, the one devoid of a beating heart. You felt complete, with Satoru in your arms, and a love that shone through every life you two had ever lived.

[lelengerine]

pairing. chenle x reader

synopsis. you would have never guessed who'd be the one to stop the tears from falling when you flunked your finals

genre. academic rivals, mainly comfort with sprinkles of fluff, no pronouns are used for reader, lmk if i missed anything!

wc. 1.3k words

notes. i love chenle. that's it. that's the post. (someone hold me back from all of those pictures he posted on ig recently for tds... im no longer sane....) im also not sure why tags aren't working for me but i have given up so here we are!! likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

being competitive was something that came to you naturally—striving to excel in everything you do, yet it was clear academics grasped the highest regard. you’ve held onto the idea that hard work always leads to success, but no matter how much effort you put in, there’s always been one person standing right there beside you—or ahead of you, rather. 

zhong chenle. he was sharp, quick-witted, and never missed the chance to land a smirk when he bested you in an exam. 

to you, chenle wasn’t just competition, he was the one you so desperately wanted to surpass as if that alone would prove your worth, the one who always made you question your capabilities in the dead of the night when the silence engulfing your room was almost deafening. so when your final exam results were returned and you saw a grade much lower than you anticipated, the disappointment sank in your chest like a heavy weight. 

from the sullen look on your face alone, rumors were quick to spread that one of the top students of your batch received a low grade. you’d hear whispers shared around the room and could only clench your exam papers underneath your desk to conceal your frustrations. 

a silent scoff escapes under your breath. the same people who sucked up to you for homework answers when they forgot to do it themselves were now the ones pointing daggers at you with their murmurs. 

couldn’t they even try to be a little discreet with their gossip? have they got no ounce of shame?

and despite your thoughts of cursing them all, your lips refused to actually speak your mind. you plaster on a brave face throughout the day, dodging the thinly veiled comments from your classmates, but the pressure continues to gnaw at you and by the time you reach your usual quiet spot in the library, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. the tears you’ve been suppressing spill over, hot and unchecked, as you stare down at the test paper in your lap—now littered with wet patches and crumpled edges.

you don’t expect anyone to find you here, but then the sound of footsteps becomes too loud to deny, and you quickly wipe at your eyes, hoping to regain composure before whoever it is sees you in this state. you glance up, and for some reason it just had to be him standing in front of you, not with the smug expression you’ve come to expect, but with something softer, something that catches you completely off guard.

“are you… okay?” chenle’s voice is tentative, unsure, like he’s not used to asking the question. and you can tell, even in his hesitation, that this isn’t a question he’s asking out of obligation, but concern. 

you want to say something sharp, something to push him away. after all, why should you let him see you like this—vulnerable, defeated? but the words catch in your throat. the only thing you can manage is a stiff nod, though even that feels like a lie. chenle doesn’t press further. instead, he takes a cautious step closer, then another, until he’s sitting beside you, a quiet but solid presence at your side.

the silence between you is thick, weighted by everything that’s unsaid, but for some reason, it’s not uncomfortable. you sense chenle watching you, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as if he’s seeing something new in you. then, gently, so gently you almost don’t believe it’s happening, his hand lifts, and his fingers brush against your cheek, wiping away the tears that have clung to your skin. the warmth of his touch lingers, soft and careful, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter if he’s not delicate enough.

“it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice steady, soothing in a way that makes your chest tighten. “you don’t have to hold it in. just… let it out.”

it’s such a simple thing, but the way he says it—soft, sincere, as if he’s offering you a lifeline—breaks something inside of you. the tears fall harder, faster, no longer restrained, and for the first time, you don’t feel ashamed for crying in front of him. there’s no judgment in his gaze, no pity—just an understanding that feels so foreign coming from the person you’ve always considered your rival.

he stays silent, watching you, but not with the cold, competitive eyes you’re used to. there’s something different there now—an openness, a vulnerability that mirrors your own. when you glance up at him, his expression is soft, almost tender, and it makes your heart stutter in confusion. he’s never looked at you like this before.

“why are you here?” you finally ask, your voice raw from crying. “shouldn’t you be… laughing at me or something? isn’t that what rivals do?”

chenle lets out a soft laugh, but there’s no trace of mockery in it. it’s a warm sound, the kind that wraps around you like a blanket on a cold day. “i guess that’s what you think of me, huh?” he says, his eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement. “but i’m not here to make fun of you. you’re upset. and believe it or not, i don’t like seeing you like this.”

his words throw you completely off balance. you’ve spent so long painting him in one color—seeing him as nothing more than competition—that this softer, more compassionate side of him feels like uncharted territory. 

you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything at all. the quiet stretches between you, but it’s not awkward. in fact, it feels strangely comforting, like a ceasefire between two soldiers who’ve spent years fighting on opposite sides of the battlefield.

chenle shifts beside you, his gaze dropping to the crumpled piece of paper still clenched in your hand. his voice drops to a more serious tone. “i heard what people were saying today. about your grade.” he pauses, as if carefully choosing his next words. “they shouldn’t judge you. i bet your score is still higher than most of theirs. and even if it wasn’t… it’s none of their damn business.” his words touch you more than expected, and you’re not sure if it's because you’re still feeling sensitive. 

it’s as if he’s speaking from experience, like he knows exactly what it feels like to be in your shoes, and for a moment, the reality of your rivalry seems to fade, replaced by the stark realization that chenle is probably the one who understands you the most in this situation. he knows the pressure, the expectations, and even the crushing weight of failure.

and that realization brings a fresh wave of guilt crashing over you. you’ve spent so much time resenting him, seeing him as the enemy, that you never stopped to consider that maybe he was fighting the same battles you were. the tears welled up again, but this time they’re not for your fallen grades—they’re for the way you’ve treated him, for the assumptions you’ve made about him.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely audible through your choked sobs. “i’ve been so awful to you…”

chenle’s hand brushes against your cheek again, this time a little firmer, more reassuring. “hey,” he says softly, his thumb wiping away another tear that slipped past, “we’ve both been pretty awful to each other, don’t you think? it’s not just you.”

his chuckle returns, and you can’t help but look up at him, startled by the sound. his eyes are crinkled again, and there’s something so genuine in the way he’s looking at you that it makes your heart flutter in a way you don’t understand. “besides,” he adds with a grin, “i didn’t know you could cry so cutely. who knew, huh?”

your face burns with embarrassment, and you quickly swipe at your eyes, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “don’t say things like that,” you mumble, though you can’t quite hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“got you to laugh though?” chenle points out with a snicker, but this time it feels different—lighter, as if the weight of years of rivalry is starting to lift. “let’s call it even,” he says, his tone playful but sincere. “you don’t have to feel guilty anymore. we’re both here, right? so, no more holding grudges. deal?”

you nod slowly, still feeling a bit shaky, but there’s a sense of relief settling in your chest. maybe things between you and chenle weren’t so black and white as you had thought. 

[jaylver]

YOU BELONG WITH ME — Y.JW

synopsis: The boy next door was practically everyone’s dream. Straight As and top of his class, basketball captain, popular kid with a heart of gold, who wouldn’t want him? Yang Jungwon happened to be him, your childhood best friend who you’ve been pining for almost forever. But how could you compete when you were the complete opposite of his girlfriend? Except that you’ve been there in his life all along, the one who understood most. All you could think was: you belong with me.

pairings: non-idol!jungwon x afab!reader

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, boy next door + athlete jungwon, romance, very very slight angst, fluff

warning(s): profanities, both are kinda idiots xx

wc: 3445

a/n: yes, this is based on tswift's you belong with me song + mv 💓 (please tell me you're not sick of me and tay atp) tbh this was originally a hee fic (idk why he always inspires a lot of fics for me LMAO) but i wanted to change it up! hope you enjoyed it! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah muah!

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

You were down bad. 

That wasn’t a statement, it was a fact.

Nothing could simply hide the fact that you were down bad and feral for your neighbour. Yes, you heard that right, the neighbour. And no, your neighbour doesn’t happen to be someone who was on the edge of deathbed kind of old, but he was, in fact, the same age as you, which didn’t help the ample amount of delusions that you could actually get him. 

Yang Jungwon. 

He wasn’t just an average boy next door, he was your childhood friend, who you knew since he moved in when you were six. Naturally, his mum and yours became buddies and it was a big factor in pulling you two together. As you grew older, you and him got closer and were practically stuck to the hip. The downside of highschool and Jungwon looking as though he was personally carved by Greek Gods was that he got popular instantly, while you, on the other hand, was regarded as a simpleton. 

To be fair, you get it. Jungwon was a smart guy other than his obvious charming features and particularly those dimples. Gosh. He was a perfect straight As student, a student loved by teachers and his peers. What made him even alluring was his athletic abilities as well. Wasn’t it just cruel to others to be absolutely blessed both academically and athletically? Captain of the basketball team who’ve won many championships and tournaments. Right, you finally understand why you’ve got to fight other girls for him. 

High School was hell. Being splitted into either the popular kids or the nerdy kids, you happen to be stuck in the middle. Jungwon was off with his popular bunch and you were with Sim Ja Yun, or Yoon, your platonic soulmate that you found equally dying in Maths class. Without her, you were never surviving this hell hole. 

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss hanging out with Jungwon. Now that you were in two different friend groups, you only got to see him after school or during the weekends. But at least there was a fun part to it, considering how his window faced yours and you two ended up creating this new way of communicating where you would write on either a whiteboard or a piece of paper.

There were ‘how are you’s and ‘good’s and some random rants, most of these ended up being something sentimental to look back to, and they were piled up in a small section in your drawer. 

“Did you hear? Jungwon’s dating that popular cheerleader,” Yoon nudged your side, whispering quietly as you two made your way to Chemistry. 

“Wonyoung?” you exclaimed, a shocked look on your face. 

Jang Wonyoung, the cheer captain of the school, an equivalent of Regina George that practically ran the school without saying. She was the total opposite of you: she wore short skirts, you wore t-shirts; she was cheer captain, you were on the bleachers; she wore high heels, you wore sneakers. How cliche could this be? Of course it had to be the cheer captain and the basketball captain that got together.

Yoon nodded. “Out of everyone, it had to be her. She’s literally known to be a serial cheater.”

Jungwon deserved better. That was all you could think during the entirety of Chemistry. Why didn’t he tell me? Was this new? Countless thoughts filled your mind till the point you swore you were seeing stars. At the end of the day, you concluded it was none of your business, seemingly reaching ‘acceptance’ in the five stages of grief. Maybe this was an actual sign for you to finally stop harbouring a small teeny liking towards Jungwon. Just maybe.

Sitting by the window and staring out into the dark skies completely distracted you from the fact that Jungwon had entered his bedroom right opposite your window. He was the phone, face twisted and expressions screaming out the signs that things didn’t seem to be well. He was yelling something back before hanging up with a sigh and a frustrated ruffle of his hair. 

It took a few minutes for him to recollect himself before regaining composure completely. You pretended you didn’t see the whole commotion when he sat on his bed, facing towards you and your window, casting you a smile and waving at you, to which you reciprocated. You couldn’t help noticing the disappointment on his face.

You reached over for your notepad, scribbling on it quickly.

‘You okay?’

His face instantly lit up, beaming happily, contrary to the expression from a minute ago. 

It was his turn to write something down on his notepad.

‘Tired of drama.’

You then wrote your reply.

‘Sorry :(’ 

He shrugged, shaking his head slightly. You wished you could do something to help, but simply, there was nothing.

‘I like—’

You found yourself writing those words of confession unknowingly, as if your hands knew what your mind constantly thought of. You didn’t even finish writing it, you couldn’t. By the time you glanced up, Jungwon was gone and a shade of blue covered his window.

Well, there goes another chance.

It might’ve been a typical Tuesday night, but that wasn’t stopping you from staying up and acting insane. You were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling with your headphones plugged in. The late night was calm and peaceful, no schoolwork, no trouble, no crush to mull over about, you were finally alone and at peace. The upbeat songs blasting into your ears had you jumping from your bed and dancing around, feeling as if you were the only one in the world.

But you weren’t the only one. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon was by his window secretly looking at your dancing figure who mimicked a singer, a smile on his face.

If only you knew.

Sitting alone in your own front yard shouldn’t sound as depressing as it was. 

You thought the best self healing method was getting in touch with nature like what those magazines had claimed, but it was only making you seem pathetic to people that drove past. Plus, how could you achieve peace when the person who destroyed it countless times was walking in your direction towards you.

“Hey, hey,” Jungwon greeted, dressed in his worn-out jeans and a white t-shirt.

“Hi,” you replied, patting the empty spot next to you.

“You’re reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’?” he wondered as he sat down, catching a glimpse of the book in your hand.

“I’m pretending to read, but I’d like to say that I am,”

Jungwon laughed in amusement, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll pretend to be impressed,” his dimpled smile never leaving, which persisted in tormenting you, because how could anyone look like that.

He’s got a smile that could light up this whole town. Hell, he was the sun that shone over your measly sad town. The light of your life and the happy pill of everyone else’s life. 

It was just a shame that you hadn’t seen it in a while ever since his girlfriend has brought him down. Even though he has reassured you that he was fine many times before whenever you asked, you could tell he wasn’t fully truthful, you know him better than that. 

Speaking of his girlfriend, Wonyoung soon pulled up by his house, and he had to eventually say goodbye to you too. Staring at the sight of them being close simply had your stomach turning and twisting, especially when she herself probably knew that you were secretly pining after him. Were you that transparent? Who cares?

As they drove off, you felt your grip on your book loosen, your heart equally dropping. 

Hey, whatcha doing with a girl like that?

It was one of the most important times in the school calendar. 

No, not exams. The national basketball competition. 

You weren’t a big sports fan, but somehow, this tournament would always rope you in every year, mainly because of the influence around you too. Exhibit A, Jungwon. But other than him, your friends were constant supporters of the school’s basketball team, not to mention, the atmosphere every year would go insane.

The game against the rival school was something you couldn’t and wouldn’t miss. Well, you didn’t have a choice either way. Being in the band team meant you were spending most of your time on the bleachers. Sigh.

On game day, you were there at the basketball court earlier than the scheduled time for final preparations, helping your bandmates around and idling boredly. You didn’t realise someone sneaking up on you until you heard your name being called, startling you and almost had you dropping an instrument. 

“Jungwon?”

“Hey,” he was in his practice gear, basketball trainers in his hand. “Didn’t mean to scare you. How’s the performance for tonight?”

“I’m hoping it’ll go well,” you said honestly, feeling uneasy under his intense stare. “I’m hoping your game goes good too,”

“Thank you,” he smiled, and there it was, his dimples. One look and it had you lightheaded. You couldn’t believe he had this effect on you still. “Will you finally treat me to some of your signature cupcakes again if we win?”

“I’ll consider it,”

“Great,” he beamed, a pleased and confident smirk replacing that sweet smile. “I’ll make sure to win it for you then,”

How could he say that and casually bid you goodbye after? Has he got no regard for your sanity whatsoever? 

His words continuously occupied your head even when your performance ended and the game started, your focus only trained on his running figure. The score was narrow, time was ticking and Jungwon had one target in mind, dashing towards the hoop and shooting the ball into it. That was the winning point and there was no doubt that the home team had won. You and your bandmates got up cheering, yelling and giving each other’s high fives. You were proud.

The cheerleaders by the court were cheering as well and doing their routine. The sight of Wonyoung caught your attention, her gaze was not on her boyfriend, but on another player. What? 

Once the game had ended, the team stayed on court celebrating. You were still on the bleachers, so all you could do was observe the scene unfolding below. Jungwon approached Wonyoung, but what you failed to notice was her standing with the player you saw her eyeing earlier. A fight broke out, a sour expression on Jungwon’s face, betrayal evident. It didn’t take long before he stormed away.

Oh no.

Upon returning home, tired and drained, you saw Jungwon in his room by the window, head hung low staring at his phone. At first, you didn’t know whether to get his attention and ‘talk’ or rather stay silent, but how could you when he seemed like a sad sappy kitten. So, you sent him a text, prompting him to stare up.

‘Hope you’re ok’ you wrote on your notepad.

He gave you a small smile, scribbling something down and holding his notepad up after,

‘I think I am? Whatever :/’

‘I’m here if you need to talk.’

‘Thanks :) you’re the best.’

‘I know’

He laughed at your response, but you continued on.

‘Congrats on your win! Super proud.’

‘Thank you! Does that mean I get my cupcakes now?’

You rolled your eyes, feigning an angry look. 

‘Fine >:(’

‘Sweeet. Talk tomorrow? We both need a rest.’

You nodded, and with a last wave from him, he closed his curtains and you did the same. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about the clear fight from earlier and you didn’t want to push him either, but the sadness in his eyes told you he wasn’t getting over that easily.

Can’t he see that you were the one who understands him?

Prom, the day you dreaded. 

You were adamant on not attending initially, but the convincing from Yoon and your other friends had you eventually caving in. Poor you.

It wasn't like there was no one out there who asked you, you were actually just a great friend who agreed to go with them instead. Besides, men scared you, mostly the ones you didn't know. Not Jungwon, he's an exception, or maybe you were biased.

Once you were done getting ready in your bedroom, you opened your window curtains out of reflex and with purpose, gazing out. There was Jungwon, in his sleek black suit and tie, looking like a graceful prince. Abort, abort, abort—

Too late.

Upon seeing him noticing your figure by your window, it was too late to flee or hide. So, you waved at him, taking your notepad along.

'You look great!'

He smiled once he saw your writing, seemingly relieved and less tensed up.

'Thanks! You're beautiful in that dress. I love it on you.'

You're praying he didn't notice the slight tinge of scarlet on your cheeks from a distance away. Well, unless he has great vision. 

Shaking your feelings and thoughts away, you wrote your last message since it was time to leave soon. 

'I need to leave soon :( see you tonight?'

He nodded, writing swiftly before showing it.

'Yes! Will see you soon. Have fun :)'

Having fun isn't exactly the expression you would precisely describe how you felt at that hour. 

Alright, you found it dumb to get slightly jealous over the fact that Jungwon was with his girlfriend tonight, but you couldn't help mulling over it. You just wanted him, but why couldn't he see that?

Or maybe … you didn't know that he does.

Jungwon, on the other hand, was in the men's restroom, washing his face over and over again. He needed to think.

Breaking up with Wonyoung after the whole fiasco at the basketball game had affected him. Although a month and a half seemed like a  short time, it was still a relationship anyway, wasn't it? That's besides the point here.

Jungwon realised he liked you. 

He found it douchey especially when he had just gotten out of a relationship, he didn't want you to think that you're some rebound, but he ended up realising his true feelings. Gosh, couldn't the timing be any better?

His childhood friend, number one supporter since the start, you were the one he was in love with, and it was ridiculous he had to go through a long while just to find out his actual thoughts and feelings. It seemed unfair to you.

Rather impulsively, he hit the 'send' button on his message app, asking for you to meet him outside the hotel. 

Waiting for him to arrive was nerve-wracking for you. Having not seen him almost the entire night and now he had sent an ominous message to top it all off, it simply didn't come off as nonchalant as he intended it to be.

"Hi," you greeted as he made his way towards you. 

"Hey," his eyes scanned your figure, taking in the sight of you in the prettiest dress, one that complimented you to the brim.

"You … wanted to see me?"

"Oh," a gear clicked in Jungwon's mind. Seeing you had completely malfunctioned him and he almost forgot the task at hand. "Right. This is going to sound in–insane but, here me out,"

"Okay?" 

"I like you," 

He likes … you?

Were you tripping or was that genuinely what he'd said? 

"I'm so stupid for not realising sooner. You were always there for me, since we were kids till now. At my basketball practices and competitions, I can spot you in the crowd easily, you're the shining star. Whenever you're playing by the bleachers, I wish I could just run to you. I like you, Y/N, I do,"

Every word was filled with pent up frustration and love, unaware how much he has been pushing back until now. But what concerned him most was your quietness.

"Y/N?"

You blinked, instead it was your turn to malfunction. "I like you too," those words came out pouring naturally, as if you were built for it, fully ready and prepared. "Wait!"

Your exclamation had him jumping up in shock, startling him and catching him off guard.

"I broke it off with her. A–and before you think I'm trying to replace you with her or anything, I'm not. Just wanted to make it clear," he said quickly, almost slurring, clearly panicked. “We can take it slow, don’t need to rush into anything, all it matters is you knowing,”

“I’d like that,” you fiddled with your fingers, nervousness eating you up from within. “I–uh–can I kiss you?”

Where did that come from?

Jungwon flushed a shade of red, coughing from shock. Your eyes widened in horror at his reaction, waving your arms frantically. “It’s okay if you don’t want to! I’m sorry, I don’t know what got over me—”

“I–I do want to kiss you,” he rushed his words out, sounding in a hurry. He was just as whipped as you. 

You smiled, and that was all it took before you grabbed his tie, pulling him in to lock your lips with his.

It was magical. The feeling was something you’ve anticipated since forever, living up to those scenes you’ve seen in your favourite rom coms and having you giddy. His kiss was gentle but desperate, palms resting against the back of your neck and cheek, pulling you in for a deeper kiss. 

You drove him insane. The cherry chapstick he could taste on his tongue, the touch of your lips against his, never in a million years had he imagined himself in this exact scenario, usually he expected himself to fumble, but he was glad he didn’t. He wished the night would never end, and so did you.

Reluctantly so, you eventually pulled away from him, both of you having your breaths taken away and breathing deeply. Even though it was silent, no words even exchanged for a while, you found yourself basking in his presence and taking in the moment. Then, you broke out into a giddy smile, giggling out of nowhere.

Jungwon couldn’t help but be infected by you, smiling along and laughing. There it was, his smile, his dimples, the crinkles by his eyes. Everything about him was surreal to you, whatever happened tonight seemed surreal as a whole. 

“Can I take you home?”

“Of course you can.”

That night, you made sure to have him waiting outside your front yard as you ran in looking like cinderella dashing out of the ball, dashing towards the kitchen to fetch what you had promised. Cupcakes.

“I’ve made them,” you presented the cupcakes in all their glory, each decorated prettily and cutely. 

“You remembered!” he stared at them in awe, then looked back at you with the same expression. “Thank you, really,”

“It’s no biggie,” 

You passed him a reassuring smile, one that he responded back with a small grin. He glanced at his wrist watch for a second, then pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s late, I’m sure you’re tired, and I still have to drive the car into the garage,”

“Right,” you laughed at his car parked half-assed by the sidewalk, luckily no passing car was present. “Goodnight, Won,”

“Goodnight, Y/N. I had a lot of fun tonight with you. I’m glad you were there,”

“Me too.”

Back in your room, you were done washing up and getting ready for bed, looking out your window as it has become a habit by now. Surprisingly,  Jungwon’s light was still switched on, and you had thought he was sound asleep by now, but guess he wasn’t. 

Speaking of him, he came crashing into your sight not even a minute later, notepad in hand and a cheeky smile that told you he had a plan up his sleeve. He stood right in front of the window, directly across your room, then held up the notepad in hand.

‘Be mine?’

This guy …

You grabbed your notepad, writing down the obvious answer, a lovesick smile that he never failed to put on your face. 

‘Yes!! Duh!!’

He let out a laugh at your response, but said nothing more, acting out a sleeping gesture to signal you to sleep soon and that he himself was also off to bed. You only nodded, but before bidding one another goodbye, he blew you a kiss.

You rolled your eyes at his playfulness, blowing one back and waving him goodnight, both of you unwilling to close the curtains and go to bed.

Either way, you were going to bed that night with peace and love in your mind, because finally, he belonged to you.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[jiminrings]

yoongi’s lullaby

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 13k

glimpse: there’s two things you can conclude from yoongi’s shapeshifting service: a) it’s great for his wallet, and b) it’s crushing for your heart.

alternatively, yoongi’s your best friend and soulmate, and you have to watch him fall in love over and over again.

[ 40% angst, soulmate au, yoongi is a capitalist (he shapeshifts and goes on fake dates then gets a load of money), fluff + wholesomeness, unrequited love (at first), f2l, self-deprecation, jealousy, YEARNING!!!, Redemption Arc I Promise ]

notes: this is part of the hlwwf universe :) and just like its predecessor, it’s also based on a song!! i haven’t felt this excited to write a fic in a while so i hope u love it as much as i do <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Yoongi must be the universe’s reward to you for every good deed you’ve ever done.

When Yoongi lets himself to be roped into joining in your newest fixation, it must be your good karma because you sat front-row for each one of your younger siblings’ school events.

When he reminds you to drink your water and not skip your meals, even going so far as to deliver both to you as often as he could, it must be the universe’s payment to you for watering plants and going on that one (1) mandatory tree planting activity.

When he gives you all the credentials to log into his premium streaming platforms even without you asking, it must be fate’s way of thanking you for not making a fuss whenever a barista messes up your order or when a stranger cuts in line.

Yoongi is the good in your life and he has been ever since you were teens, reminding you of what you’ve worked hard for in life because when he wasn’t so busy going through the same hardships you did, he would be at the sidelines waiting for you to finish.

Or he could be someplace else without even sending a lousy text regarding his wellbeing nor his notice that he can’t be at your awarding ceremony tonight because he’s busy doing his job, serving as a reminder that Yoongi must also be the universe’s punishment to you for your missteps and lapses.

When he comes and goes into your apartment freely as treats himself to your newly-bought groceries, it must be retribution because you lost your temper on your college roommate once for eating the leftovers you’ve been craving since the night before.

When he salvages all the spare batteries you have lying around to power up his huge clock back at his apartment, therefore leaving you to eventually spend a rainy night without flashlights because of a power outage, it must be payback for lowering the temperature in your breakroom even with the sign that specifically tells you not to.

Whenever Yoongi mentions his shapeshifting “career” (he argues that it is) to you, a gift he had been born with and one he really maximizes to the fullest potential and profit, you’re reminded how much of it is a curse to you.

Yoongi must be the universe’s greatest reward and punishment for you at the same time because while he’s your soulmate and you spend almost every day with him — you have to see him fall in love with everyone else but you, over and over again.

“You should be splitting rent with me at this point. You’re always here,” you groan as soon as you spot him on your couch, barely escaping the grogginess you’re still in from having a long night. 

His presence isn’t surprising anymore given the time you’ve been with him and how this exact situation has already played out tons of times before (him breaking into your place because he doesn’t want to be alone, you blissfully clueless until you hear raccoon-like searching in your kitchen) — it’s more irking than it is surprising, especially when you wake up at the wrong side of the bed.

“Do you not want me around?” Yoongi laughs heartily, unwilling to wipe his grin off when you don’t react. “That’s what I thought.”

He’s already beaten you to the TV and while he hasn’t had breakfast yet because he thought that the least he could do is wait for you to wake up so you could make it and the two of you can eat together, he’s getting there anyway.

“What type of horrible soulmate kicks out their other half that hasn’t had breakfast yet at 8 in the morning?” he hums, a faux pout on his face that rubs you the wrong way. You’re still pissed at him for not showing up at your awarding ceremony last night for being the top developer in your tech company, his lengthy apologetic text before you went to sleep still not doing its full effects.

“You don’t wanna tread there,” you huff, crossing your arms. “I have a lot on my chest, Yoongi. A lot of hateful, vile, factual comebacks.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, the smile on his face telling you that he’s taking this lightly; way more lightly than you’d like him to. “We’ve had this conversation a million times before, baby. Sometimes, people just aren’t meant to be,” Yoongi shrugs, his words embedded in you now from repetition alone. “Some soulmates are only platonic.”

“That’s what you want because you’re non-committal,” you hiss, the incoming headache you have for having this conversation too early in the morning making you sit yourself on the couch. Yoongi grins because he knows you won’t kick him out at this point, slinging an arm across your shoulders while you’re still glaring at him. “Your hustle or whatever you call it is falling in love with everyone but me.”

“Uhm, correction — it’s a career,” he tuts. “I have a gift, Y/N. What, I can shapeshift into other people and I’m not supposed to capitalize off of that?”

He had only started offering his services a little more than a year ago, a byproduct of his boredom and his producing internship at the music label falling through. It just came to him in a fever dream and a drunken suggestion from you, and one website domain purchase and a socialite with a lot of connections for a first client later, Yoongi quickly made bank.

SeeAndSaw’s a trial dating service led by Yoongi, one that would answer clients’ curiosities to whether or not they were compatible with a person, and that’s where his shapeshifting came in handy. His services continue to be used for a multitude of reasons, the most common one being to see if the client would match with their soulmates (or just a random person, he’s not particular like that) ahead of their meeting. He’s also become a handy instrument here and there, breaking up with people in his clients’ behalf because they were too guilty to do so, to becoming a stand-in for clients that needed to present someone to their families for occasions.

Yoongi acts far too casual to you and not only is its time’s fault, it’s also yours for keeping him around in any way you can have him, even if it’s just as a friend. 

“I keep professing my love for you every two weeks and I’m doing it now while you’re eating my leftovers. People would kill just to have a soulmate as dedicated as me,” you frown, slowly softening the more that you’re rendered awake. Yoongi’s right, you did have this conversation a million times before and it’s the realization of it all that perhaps, at rare times, makes it hurt less.

“We’ve had this talk before,” he sing-songs, digging into the carbonara you took home that he retrieved not even one minute later since you joined him on the couch.

“For someone who makes bank fake dating people, you sure do leech off of me a lot,” you grumble, effectively quietened when he shoves a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

“That reminds me,” Yoongi grins, building up to a dramatic gasp. “I love-…” 

He trails and trails and if only you didn’t know any better, you would know that Yoongi wouldn’t profess his love for you in your living room while you were still in your pajamas eating cold carbonara. Much less, Yoongi wouldn’t tell you at all that he loves you.

“I love doing that,” he agrees, disappointed for a second when you didn’t even react to him doing a cliffhanger about what or who he loves. “My treat for you this week is to get you a new mattress. You’ll be less grumpy in the mornings.”

“The mattress can stay for a little longer. Can you just get me a new alarm system please?” you say without missing a beat, having already thought long and hard about what make-up gift you wanted him to give you from missing out on your awarding ceremony. 

“Why? Are you okay? Did anybody attempt to break in?” Yoongi asks concerned, brows knotted in worry. He grunts under his breath, shaking his head. “I already told you to move into my apartment complex so many times. It’s much safer there.”

That’s also a conversation you’ve had a million times before, all circling back to your attachment to the first place that you bought with your own money. It’s not bad per se, it just looks like it when you show it side-by-side with Yoongi’s place.

“Oh. They already broke in,” you narrow your eyes, oblivious to the panic brewing in Yoongi.

“What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?! Are you-…” he rants, stopping himself when he sees the irony. “Okay, I get it. You’re not funny.”

You and Yoongi eat cold carbonara in total silence, save for his grumbles of how you should never joke about your safety and yours for how he should start chipping in for your bills if he’s gonna keep showing up like this.

Yoongi swears he doesn’t find you funny. He swears it on his life when a few days later, a guy is sent to your house to update your security system. There’s a couple hundred packages of additional manual locks, along with Yoongi’s letter of how he still doesn’t find you funny, amongst other things.

Please guard your home. Don’t let anybody else in except me.

- Yoongi

( ♡ )

Yoongi despises change.

He’s with the elderly when it comes to online menus in an actual, physical restaurant, annoyed by them to the point that sometimes he just walks out. He can’t help it that he wants a nice, slightly greasy, and good menu because it just goes to show how great the food would be. 

He hates whoever invented and continues to advertise white cooking equipment that’s beyond impractical, knowing to himself that he would disown any friends or family he’ll catch using them. You spent a good two seconds more looking at a white ceramic pot that one time when you were online shopping, and Yoongi’s never been more determined to hurl your phone to the floor.

Yoongi also hates overly-modified cars and overly-decorated phone cases, because as much as it isn’t his business, he firmly believes that sometimes there are things meant to be left alone.

His voicemail is still the same one he had back in college and his standard ringtone for everyone remains untouched — everyone but you.

Yoongi knows that he’s in charge of his time given his very successful career and he worked around his whole schedule just to grant himself the luxury of sleeping in today. He wants to have himself buried in his cold sheets for longer but it’s your call that overrides his phone on Do Not Disturb, shaking him awake quicker.

“Yoongi?” you ask, too wrapped up in your internal to-do list to notice that he answered at the second ring. “Help me please.”

“Spider family in your cupboards again?” he yawns, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. God, he hopes it’s not that again. He isn’t the biggest fan of spiders either but at your insistence (and threatening last time that you’ll ignore him for a week), he forced himself to swallow down the unease.

“No, I woke up late,” you hum, once again oblivious that you’re intruding on Yoongi’s plans. He doesn’t mind though; not at all. “I just got a text about my package and I accidentally used your address again. The front desk received it.” 

Yoongi’s address has already become your secondary one at this point, from food deliveries from staying over to parcels you made him receive because you wouldn’t be home at the time. You’ve gotten used to utilizing his address, his home, so much that you forget which is which sometimes.

“Can you sign off on it as me?”

You know potential and convenience when you have it within reach, and the both of you know that your best friend slash soulmate gets a sense of pride whenever you need to utilize his shapeshifting abilities.

“Okay fine. I’ll even talk you up as a future tenant here because you’re taking my advice and moving to my building, right?” he caves in even if it took nothing for you to convince him, putting on a shirt before finding his slippers.

“What, what? Yoongi, oh! You’re breaking up,” you make a half-assed attempt in avoiding the offer once again. You could afford it with the salary you have now but aside your attachment to the place you have now, being closer to Yoongi in this context would precisely be the demise of you. “Thanks, Yoongs. Bring the package with you when you come over.”

Yoongi’s filial when it comes to you, that much you’ve noticed. He may not be in love with you but his loyalty to you is as clear as day, much of a soulmate’s but not exactly a lover’s.

It’s supposed to be like clockwork when he picks up his parcels (yours in this case) from the front desk but there’s just something he belatedly realizes now, his mouth in a grimace when he has to pry off your package from the receptionist who was unabashedly asking where you were.

He didn’t know that every time this would happen, or in any case wherein you came by yourself to his apartment and therefore passing by the front desk, the sleaze would flirt with you.

“Joohyuk from the front desk always comes off strong, huh?” Yoongi snickers the moment he enters your place, handing you your stuff instead of tossing it like he usually would.

“Tell me about it. He doesn’t give me a break,” you snort, unfazed that he doesn’t greet you with a hi anymore because your current visiting set-up has been executed many times.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with the unhinged anger in his brain that unfolds because from your response alone, you’re used to it. You’re used to feeling uneasy and he hadn’t caught on earlier than he should’ve, the guilt weighing down on his chest.

“Hey,” he calls out, his tone leaving you no room for objections. “I’ll receive your packages from now on.”

( ♡ )

You don’t know how you keep holding onto Yoongi despite him grasping you from afar.

It’s a melancholy enough as it is to swallow at the end of the day that Yoongi’s yours but not in the way you want him to be, along with the great possibility that it would always be that way. You don’t heed the reminder when you’re with him and that’s almost everyday of your life, the ache that you’re the only one pining after him remaining as a dull thrum. 

He seeks you in seasons but you look for him in all weathers, the great search of when you’d finally amount more to him still coming up unanswered.

You can handle seeing Yoongi often with the cue that you’re only friends despite the initials on both your ring fingers saying otherwise. You can manage with introducing him only as your close friend to colleagues and acquaintances because you don’t want to end up with a long-winded explanation how he wants you but really doesn’t.

Yoongi can deal with your moony stares at him every once in a while and your professions of love, whether sober or drunken. On the same vein, you can deal with the rejection he serves you every single time.

The both of you are adults who can handle each other, one more high-strung than the other, and it’s only in moments like these that you reach your limit. You’re awfully too aware of how easy it is for Yoongi to work, to be in love with people he only knows vaguely.

“I don’t like to see you when you’re at work.”

You’re momentarily caught with panic when you see a stranger in your living room, only being caught up to date when he’s sprawled across your couch in the same way that Yoongi does, the very same shit-eating grin he has on for giving you a fright.

You don’t know the guy at all and you don’t plan to. You try your best to separate yourself from Yoongi’s shapeshifting business, most especially his clients and the extensions of them that he has to portray. You don’t even want to hear the stories behind his appointments even if he begs for you to hear him out because he just wants someone to talk to. 

The moment you fully accept that Yoongi would belong to everyone but you is the day that you rue him.

And in a longingly heartbreaking fashion, you don’t hate Yoongi — yet.

He momentarily changes back to himself, sneaking a look at his watch to see how many minutes he has more of annoying you before going on a date just two blocks away from your place.

“Why?” he whines, and in retaliation, changes back to the stranger. “I’m Hong Dusik. I’m from the countryside, moved back to the city to do stocks, and my dimples are literally embedded in there. I’m my client’s soulmate and it’s their first date next week but she’s shy and she’s nervous, so she’s having a dry-run with me first.”

Tuning Yoongi out has become a skill you continue to hone and while it isn’t foolproof just yet, it’s helped tremendously when you want nothing more than to kick him (or any form he takes) out.

“Nice.”

“You’re icing me out, sweetie?” his voice lulls, the sweetness behind it cloying until you remember that you don’t know the guy it belongs to.

“My god, your dimples are deep,” you murmur, clutching your bag to your chest. “Switch back, Yoongi.”

“Why? Dusik’s a nice guy.”

You kiss your teeth with the annoyance of a hundred days built up, gritting out your answer that makes him falter momentarily. “I’ve heard already, but I don’t plan seeing Dusik or any other stranger in my home.”

“Aw, you’re so loyal to your soulmate, whoever he may be,” he coughs, shifting back to himself. At any other day, Yoongi’s playful nature would be met with one of your sarcastic remarks but he doesn’t get any this time, the ghost of a frown accompanying his lips.

He’s admittedly nervous when you don’t play along with him, but his urge to sneak one last word in overtakes his trepidation.

“My advice to get over me? Bone it out. Get it out of your system. Soon enough, my initials would fade.”

Come to think of it, Yoongi’s advice isn’t all that bad.

“If Dusik and his girl don’t work out, just send him to me,” you nod, retreating to your room.

“Good! I’ll-…” he grins, satisfied with ticking you off until your words sink into him, the double-take that he makes giving him an ache on his neck. “What?” Yoongi murmurs, “I didn’t mean it that seriously.”

( ♡ )

In a parallel universe or in a different life, Yoongi actually lives with you. In that reality, you’re still soulmates and the difference is that he loves you back. He doesn’t have the ability to shapeshift and you don’t have to profess your love repeatedly either.

In a parallel universe or a different life, Yoongi’s cooking you dinner. Dinner would be just takeout from a drive-thru that he transfers to plates because the two of you barely ate the bourgeoisie food at your awarding ceremony. You’re still the top developer in your tech company, but the difference is that he’s there and you get to introduce him as your soulmate and not just a friend who coincidentally bears the same initials on your finger.

In a parallel universe or a different life, Yoongi is your soulmate before he is your friend. He doesn’t condense your love for him as a mere obligation. He doesn’t bat an eye at your confessions because in that reality, he’s the one who loves you more than you love him.

You don’t have that life though — what you have at the moment is Yoongi, your soulmate, not being able to see what was wrong signing you up for a dating app. You wouldn’t have known if not for the couple hundred notifications you receive in your personal phone that you left at home.

You wouldn’t be this angry if Yoongi could just accept that he went out of line.

“How many times do I have to say it over and over again?” you yell, hands flailing around helplessly. The smug look on Yoongi’s face remains, strengthened only by his stubbornness. “I love you and it’s just always been you!”

This is not the life you pictured with your soulmate. In your head, you don’t even see a particular space the two of you would live in. The home you see in your dreams is ever-changing, the layout of it never staying the same. The only thing that stays in the life you picture is Yoongi. Your Yoongi.

“Why can’t you put me in your choices atleast? We’re soulmates and you’ve been my only choice but I’m– fuck!” you exclaim, sucking in a sharp breath when you feel a momentary stab at your chest. “You don’t even consider me to be a potential girlfriend even if my initials are on your finger!”

In another world, Yoongi doesn’t look at you with a clenched jaw when you speak your mind. The two of you have grown sick at this conversation but the difference in your world now is that you’re beyond angry at him, the frustration unmistakeable when you look at him.

“Why can’t it be me, Yoongi?” you seethe, fists clenched tightly that your knuckles turn white. “For fuck’s sake, when can it be me? When can it be my turn? When do you pick me?”

Yoongi didn’t mean for you to be heated with him. It was a practical joke, only following through with the half-hearted advice he gave you when he showed up at your apartment as Dusik. 

He just wanted to prove a point that you don’t want to give up on him as much as he doesn’t want you to stop trying for him. It’s selfish, he’s selfish. And if only Yoongi could focus on how conceited he is rather than the anguish he feels about you being angry and upset at him, he would wipe off the arrogance from his face.

“I hate your job so, so fucking much. It looks pathetic to me even if I know you must enjoy it a lot,” you burst, saying your truth that you’ve tried to minimize in order to make way for his self-esteem. “Your business is to be these random people’s dream guy but you’re mine. You’re my dreamboat, my ideal guy, my person! I’m your soulmate but I feel like shit. Just utter, hopeless shit that you visit almost everyday because you don’t want to be alone!”

He can’t put it into words but in the simplest way he could put it, being alone feels like a punishment more than it is a solace. Yoongi lives alone and he can handle it, but him tolerating it doesn’t mean that he loves it. 

It’s always been you and him, one way or another. In the trench of your love, waiting for Yoongi to come around is worth it. In the shore of your doubts however, the novelty of having Yoongi is starting to wear off.

You make up your mind then and there, the ascent from your trench to your shore increasingly coming fast by the day.

“Leave. You’re not staying the night here.”

Yoongi breaks by then, a dry sob leaving his throat while he tries to plead with the resoluteness in your tone.

“What kind of-“

“What kind of soulmate throws out their other half in the middle of the night?” you interrupt, knowing that Yoongi only mentions your status when he’s desperate. “The kind that doesn’t want to be soulmates anymore.”

You sound the most casual you’ve ever been and Yoongi’s annoyed at you for it, his eyes narrowed into slits. He’ll oblige for the night, on his way to the door when he looks at you.

“With all due respect, Y/N, screw you. You don’t mean that,” he mutters, chest heaving up and down. He’s convincing you as much as he’s convincing himself. “You’re just angry, you’re sad, and you don’t mean that.”

Your back’s turned to him when he leaves, or atleast attempts to do so because he doesn’t want to make his exit when you refuse to even look at him.

“I mean it right now, let’s focus on that,” you chuckle, already turning off the lights in the apartment without sparing a single glance at him. “Go away, Yoongi.”

( ♡ )

Unsurprisingly, you find Yoongi at your house the next day when you come home from work.

He probably has your key fob microchipped on him nowadays, your huge fight from last night not being enough to deter him from coming over. He’s a stubborn and mostly annoying stain you have in your life at the exact second, the two of you unwilling to apologize to each other.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you mutter, rolling your eyes when you set your bag down on the counter. You’re on a time crunch, the window you have of preparing yourself to look divine already closing down steadily.

“The fuck are you doing home?” Yoongi retorts just for the sake of it and simply because he wants to keep the conversation (if it was even called that) going, trying to ignore the fact that he totally bombed his comeback and makes up for it by staring at your leftover dumplings on his plate.

You’re busy fending for yourself, your eyes too preoccupied in rolling to the back of your head that you fail to notice Yoongi’s puffy with all the crying he did last night. You ignore him and go straight to your bedroom, not having enough time to multitask showering and fighting with him.

You’ve already went through your entire routine and dressed yourself up, the frustration in you only skyrocketing up when Yoongi’s still there in your kitchen.

“Either get out or move out of my way,” you say as you retrieve yourself a snack from your cupboards to munch on while you multitask, intentionally bumping your shoulder with him in the process. “I’m going out on a date.”

Yoongi heavily sighs, his fork clattering on the plate loudly. He tries to keep his emotions at bay because this is all his fault, the fight in his body tensing his shoulders.

“You’re lashing out.”

“I’m not lashing out,” you argue, looking at the clock to see if you could still fit in fighting with Yoongi between spraying your perfume and meeting your date by the front door. “Lashing out would be me bringing my date home and fucking him loudly in my room.”

He stabs the dumplings a little too harshly and a little too unnecessarily, fitting two in his mouth while clenching his fists because he knows a nasty remark is just bubbling to be said.

Yoongi’s being childish and your patience has already run thin to deal with him especially when you’re mad, the huff that leaves you sounding extremely personal.

“What are you even doing here? Go back to your house.”

“My appointment’s just at the next block. Your place is closer.”

“You could’ve just driven there directly instead of camping out here.”

Yoongi sarcastically smiles, his eyes in crescents as he makes a show of tilting his head. “Can I notspend time anymore with my best friend? My soulmate, even?”

“Stop saying the s-word,” you grit. “Don’t say that when I bring Jimin home.”

The resounding tension that envelopes the two of you finally snaps, manifesting into a scoff from Yoongi so offended and loud that it resonated in your apartment like a clap of thunder. 

“Jimin from high school? You’re exes for a reason, remember?” he exclaims, eyes blinking in disbelief because he figures he must’ve heard you wrong. “He broke up with you when he went abroad for college because he can’t do long-distance. What makes you think he’ll give you the time of day this time?”

None of his words register in your head, blissfully letting them fly over. Jimin only invited you to catch up and you obliged; it’s not like you didn’t have years of love amongst yourselves to shroud yourself in anonymisity. Plus, it’s not like he asked you to try again with him — it’s dinner. Just dinner.

“He’s already outside. Also, it’s clearly a short distance this time.”

“Don’t be smart with me,” Yoongi scoffs, standing up abruptly with his arms across his chest. “I’m gonna barricade the door if you come home with him.”

“Good. I can come home with him to his place.”

“I’ll barricade his door,” he retorts without even thinking, his brows knotted in exasperation.

“Go fuck yourself,” you narrow your eyes at him, letting your glare at him linger until you get to the front door. “While I fuck Jimin.”

“You’re so-“

Yoongi points an accusing finger at you, unable to finish his sentence now that you’ve left. You’re stubborn.

If he’s being honest, the thought of you merely giving Jimin the time of day makes him uneasy. It puts a void on his stomach and an even larger cavity in his chest.

And if Yoongi’s being more honest, he doesn’t even have an appointment nearby. He just wanted to be with you whichever way he can.

( ♡ )

Yoongi used to hate crossfit.

He hated even the concept of it because the trainers for it at the gym have a superiority complex when talking about it as if it was revolutionary; as if launching yourself a feet into the air while doing push-ups from point to point was groundbreaking.

Even his friend, Jungkook, knowsjust how much he hates it. He didn’t particularly have a preference when it comes to working out, but Yoongi’s random and unprovoked hate for random things is starting to rub off on him. They both hate crossfit… right?

Jungkook doesn’t know how to react when he sees Yoongi doing pull-ups with one hand diagonally while a kettlebell’s on the other. He doesn’t know what to feel seeing him agitatedly do push-ups while wearing a weighted vest and with his feet up on a medicine ball. 

Jungkook, for a fact, does not know what his cue should be when he sees Yoongi running 24kph on a treadmill with his eyes fixated on the phone in his hand, although he’s about 99% sure that this is not exactly crossfit.

He’s known him for years now and there’s barely anything between them that they don’t know about each other. Jungkook, however, doesn’t know the threshold of Yoongi’s emotional constipation, slightly concerned when he sees his friend’s mind drift elsewhere.

“Yoongi, are we okay there buddy?”

“Huh?” he squints, looking up from his dessert which he’s just been staring at the past two minutes.

Jungkook clears his throat, vaguely mentioning to the poor utensil in his hand. “You’re bending the fork.”

“It was already bent when you handed it to me,” he weakly counters, setting the metal down without much concern.

“I uhm, I really don’t think so.”

Yoongi only supplies with him a scowl and normally, being the filial and nosey friend that he is, it was cue for him to inquire what was going on. Jungkook likes including himself and it’s one of the numerous things he has in common with Yoongi, but it was clear as day just how differently it manifests for each of them.

Yoongi’s only been staring at the mocha crepe cake because he knows he would be incessantly interrupted by Jungkook once he started eating it, but come to to think of it, the younger hasn’t asked him even once.

He narrows his eyes at him, crossing his arms with a sly look to his face.

“What are you waiting for? I know you’re dying to ask me.”

Jungkook scoffs, rolling his eyes so passionately that Yoongi saw you in him for a second. “No, you’re dying to be asked. It’s always like this! You want to get something out of your chest but you always need me to ask first and then you pretend like you don’t like it.”

His face is far too straight and he got to the point really quickly with his delivery, his posture standing straight at the unimpressed look Yoongi gives him.

“Sorry. Your emotional constipation’s rubbing off of on me,” he hums sickeningly, batting his eyes. “Yes, Yoongi? What seems to be on your mind?”

Not even a second goes by before Yoongi breaks, his shoulders falling in recollection. “It’s Y/N. You already know my deal with her.”

“Of course I do. Aren’t we basically the same?” Jungkook tilts his head in thought. “Longtime best friends with our soulmates but the only difference is that the two of you knew at the beginning?” he continues, mixing his drink with his straw just to cushion the impending blow this conversation might inflict on him. “And uhm, that you spend every waking moment refusing her but magically, your friendship isn’t ruined over it?”

“You go on and on like an audiobook.”

He’s not the least bit offended because he does have the voice for it, but it wasn’t so audiobook-ish of him when his hands flail and his voice pitches in remembrance. “Oh also, you’re a shapeshifter! Poor Y/N has to watch you date all these people except her.”

“Which side are you on?” Yoongi looks down on his feet, the sigh that leaves him slowly weighing as much as the conflict in his mind. “There’s one more difference, by the way. I think she’s making me jealous.”

Now, Jungkook doesn’t flatter Yoongi all too much because his ego outnumbers his and that’s coming from him! But this is the one time that Jungkook has to hand it to him, his friend’s delivery and impeccable timing giving him the best chuckle he’s had this week.

“She’s intentionally making you jealous? God, Yoongi. Are we skimming over the fact that maybe she’s just grown sick of you?”

“You don’t get it!” he whines. “She’s entertaining her ex from high school. This stupidly blonde, stupidly genius, stupidly always available guy named Jimin! What a stupid name too. Seriously, he’s so-…”

The café’s well-lit and the acoustics are good too but there’s just this one cloud that forms above Jungkook when Yoongi mentions Jimin’s name, his brows suddenly furrowing in annoyance.

“Jimin?” he clarifies. “Jimin who?”

“This isn’t a knock-knock joke.”

The urge to smack Yoongi would always be larger than Jungkook’s intent to be the bigger person, his curiosity bursting at the seams. “What’s his family name, you idiot?”

“Why does it matter? You don’t know him anyway. It’s Park Jimin,” Yoongi rolls his eyes as he soothes the side of his head, equally as annoyed now. 

The gasp coming from Jungkook alone shushes the entire café, his eyes as expressive as ever and his voice even louder, forcing Yoongi to sink further to his seat until the onlookers take their eyes away from the table.

“You’re joking me!” he booms, running his hands though his hair in a frenzy. “Guy from Busan, stayed until high school, then went to Harvard for college?”

“How do you know him?” Yoongi questions but at this point the how doesn’t matter as much as the why, his friend’s expression enough to keep him at the edge of his seat.

“Because he tried poaching my soulmate too!” Jungkook exclaims, pausing between words because he’s still speechless. “It’s this long story. We’re distant family friends, then I almost lost my bond, then-…”

Yoongi shushes him, putting up a hand for the both of them to stay on track. “Can we get back to me? Can we put a pause on the Jungkook and soulmate show?”

They’re a duo of insufferable people, one more self-absorbed and insufferable than the other. Jungkook sees much of his past self in Yoongi despite the latter being older, the irony of the situation rendering him breathless.

“What do I do about Jimin? Surely, he has a soulmate and it’s definitely not my Y/N,” Yoongi desperately asks for advice even if he thinks it’s beneath him, rubbing his face with his hands.

Jungkook thanks the universe and his soulmate for shaping him to be a better person because he could now hear what he used to sound like back then and by god was he emotionally constipated.

“My Y/N?” he mimics. “Let’s get you back to bed, uncle.”

He makes the internal reminder to get Yoongi away from crossfit because the punch that lands on his thigh is definitely powerful, making him wince loudly that once agains puts the both of them at the center of attention.

“Ow! What?! You can’t just refuse to be a thing with Y/N but then gatekeep her the moment she entertains another guy. That’s not how it works, believe me! I’ve literally been there before.”

Yoongi can hear Jungkook, but he doesn’t exactly understand.

He’s not oblivious to continue refusing the parallels between him and Jungkook but surely, the way it worked out for his friend means that it would for him too, right? 

He’s in denial but he’s not there at the stage yet where he actually acknowledges that he is, stuck in the realm of hope that you’re not sick of him yet.

“Okay what if– what if we try to find out who this Jimin’s soulmate is? Look for them, pluck just one strand of hair, and I shapeshift into them? Then I’ll tell him to back off from other people and only focus on his soulmate!”

Jungkook winces, scratching his head. “That’s wrong. And unethical. You have so many things to unpack, Yoongi.”

“It’s not my fault I can shapeshift!” he exasperatedly sighs, briefly mirroring Jungkook by shifting to him just to prove a point.

“It’s your fault that you’re this constipated to be willing to go to great lengths just to steer Y/N away from Jimin!”

“What do I do then?” Yoongi groans, plunking his head onto the table. He doesn’t even have to raise his head for Jungkook to know that he’s nearing a dead end, his hope about to run out sooner or later. “What did you do?”

“I woke up. Figured I was too self-absorbed back then to realize that it’s always been her for me.”

Jungkook shakes his friend, prompting him to start eating the crepe cake he treated him to but refuse to eat because he’s still wallowing in worry over where he stands with you.

“Wake up, Yoongi,” he sighs, looking down on the markings on his own ring finger that he thanks the heavens for every single day. “The universe works in mysterious ways.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi prides himself for having 20/20 vision.

He’s always boasted about his vision not deceiving him even once, the constant praise whenever he gets his yearly check-ups fully seeping into his head.

He’s neither suffering from a hangover nor vertigo. Yoongi’s mind is in a sound and safe place which is why he doesn’t get how it could be playing jokes on him now, the most crucial of times he’s been going through with you.

Your soulmate mark has completely disappeared.

It simply cannot be true to how his initials disappeared overnight and you just woke up one day to see that they’re gone. Yoongi’s hand is gripping yours tightly as if you’d suddenly disappear too, the glare he has at your ring finger vacant and unnerving at the same time.

“It’s blank. Oh my god, it’s completely blank,” your eyes can’t seem to believe it too, a silent gasp leaving you in shock.

You’ve already said your piece but it’s not what Yoongi’s looking for. You’re not as distraught nor panicked as he is and he knows right there that you’re only fucking with him, making him sigh in exhaustion.

“It’s obvious why you didn’t study liberal arts,” he mutters, rubbing your finger furiously. It makes absolutely no sense when not a single hint of his initials peek through, the worry over his lack of a mark on you growing by the second.

“Huh?” Yoongi says under his breath, his pursuit of trying to get your stint to budge leading him closer to you to the point that your foreheads almost bump when he looks to you. “Okay, what’s the secret? You used pot concealer instead of liquid? You color-corrected? Tons of setting spray?” he tries, licking his lips that turned dry in exasperation. He’s running out of ways you could’ve executed this, mind turning up empty. “You uh, you got it tattooed over with your exact shade match?”

The dread that fills Yoongi is liquid hurt. It builds up from droplets and takes form wherever it flows, turning murky in contained and neglected spaces. He can’t move on from the hurt that’s in his chest when he glances at your empty ring finger and then to his that still has yours; that still links you to him, yet unreciprocated.

“Why is it not budging?” 

“You’re rubbing all the way to my bone,” you chuckle, unable to read the anxiousness behind his tone. He looks disturbed even, lips parted with no explanation coming to mind.

“You’ve got me, Y/N,” he painfully chuckles, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He bites too hard that he draws blood, eyes flickering ever so often. “Where did you hide the cameras this time?”

“Yoongi, I’m telling you! It’s really blank!” you chuckle but not as easily as the last time, sensing the atmosphere in the room that only favored you but not him. “Quick, walk into the wall. Let’s see if I feel it!”

He doesn’t know how you still have it in you to joke. He doesn’t know how you’re not panicking and as much as he’s figured that this is only one of the rare times where the universe favors you, he didn’t know it would result to this.

“First, I’m not walking into a wall. Second, you stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying! I’m really serious!” your hands raise in defense, taking a step away from him. The starting notes of your laugh start to build but it never comes out fully because Yoongi interrupts you with a bitter laugh, throwing his head back in frustration.

You’re laughing. You’re unfazed and you’re laughing at Yoongi being at the end of his rope, his worry over losing his soulmate turning unrequited.

“Well then congrats on not having me as a soulmate anymore. I’m so happy for you!”

“What’s with the attitude?” you raise an eyebrow at him, scoffing in retaliation. It had only been lighthearted (for you, atleast) awhile ago and perhaps, maybe even humorous. You didn’t expect that he would receive the news like this at all. “No, congratulations to you, Yoongi, because you’ve been whining for years how you don’t want me and now you finally got it!”

The truth you say has been Yoongi’s for the longest time and the old him would’ve been thrilled because you finally got it. You finally got where he’s coming from and he didn’t need to deal with you pining after him but now that the realization comes here, one that you say to his face — it doesn’t feel good at all.

“Yeah, and I know and regret that now because I didn’t actually think the universe would listen!” his voice raises, pointing at his chest. “Fuck me for not thinking that the universe would stop to listen to my half-hearted wishes, am I right?”

“You’re right. Fuck you, actually!” you agree in spite, practically spitting your next words. “You’re so conceited. Why are you turning on me the moment you get what you thought you wanted?”

Yoongi doesn’t get it too.

He doesn’t get how he lets the flaw of his own insistence slip through his fingers so carelessly. He doesn’t even know what he wanted in the first place and it terrorizes him to know that he might just never know why, the answer for it only seen as a distant memory of you.

He doesn’t get how long he’s retained his insistence of preserving his safety zone by trying to deter you from loving him, when in reality, you’re the epitome of security itself. He didn’t think it through at all.

Yoongi didn’t think when he spent the past few years of his life rejecting your confessions and proposals in every opportunity that he could. Didn’t even leave you hanging from a thread of hope at all that he’d like you back; just a clean, straight refusal.

He didn’t stop to consider that the universe works in mysterious ways, because if he did earlier, he would’ve prayed to make you stay despite not being the type to get on his knees at all.

“Because I didn’t actually think we would stop being soulmates! I didn’t think that there’d be a reality where we aren’t together!” his voice cracks, his hands trembling at his sides. “It’s always been us, Y/N. I’ll always want you around.”

“Do you just want me around or do you want me?” you ask, the silence that follows after it being an accumulation of the ones you’ve had to spent alone when he rejected you. “I can’t be the background noise in your life, Yoongi. Not anymore. Y-yes, I know there are soulmates that are meant to be platonic but I don’t want that,” you stress, the tears springing to your eyes. “I can’t have that.”

It’s an ultimatum you didn’t know you would ever make at all.

“It’s either you have me as your soulmate or you don’t have me at all,” you say in strength, your thumb hovering about the ghost of his initials on your finger. “I can’t stand being your friend anymore.”

“You’d throw that away?” Yoongi croaks, taken aback. “You’d throw that– us away after all this time?”

“I would.”

“Your initials are still on my finger,” he reminds, sniffling as he pushes his hair back. This can’t be. You seriously can’t be posing this ultimatum to him, one that would determine both his present and future.

“Yours aren’t on mine,” you shot back. The lump on your throat is far too large to even swallow, each breath you take making it harder for you. “For the love of god, Yoongi, can you not deflect?” 

Yoongi’s the most panicked that he’s ever been in his life and in your surprising and rarely selfish nature, you don’t even pause.

“This is a big decision, Y/N! Can’t you please just give me some time to think?”

“No. You’ve had enough time to think when you’ve been stringing me around for years.”

The hurt that bubbles up in Yoongi comes like a riptide, unsuspecting yet just as devastating. There’s no pause between his words, much too smooth and articulate for someone who’s as panicked as he is now. They’ve stayed at the tip of his tongue before and lingered in the back of his mind even longer.

“I can’t think because I’m not sure about you, Y/N! I’m not sure if I’ve always kept you around because I want us to be more like soulmates than we are as friends,” he sobs. “I don’t know if I can love you how you love me.”

The liquid hurt in Yoongi’s bones solidifies but yours evaporates. It should hurt for you — you know that it should pain you the most now. You wait and you wait for the hiss before the sting but it doesn’t come. 

The weight lifts off from you instantly and you don’t even know why or how it happens. Whatever it was though, you let it carry your burdens for you. You only painfully nod, leaving Yoongi in your own house.

Yoongi can’t love you the way you love him — it’s the answer you’re looking for now, and it’s the same answer you swallowed down when you first professed your love for him years ago. 

.

.

.

Jimin didn’t expect you to report back to him this quickly and this late at night to say the very least, his sleepiness being pushed back when you stand at his door.

You slur the words but you’re not even drunk with alcohol. You’ve walked the long way to Jimin in order to take off your mind from your fight with Yoongi but there was just something n your system, one that made you even forget who you were fleeing.

There’s no Yoongi that comes into your mind during your walk, in fact, you were starting to think that the name didn’t even make sense to you because you couldn’t put a face to it. All you knew was where you’re going and who you were going to — only Jimin.

The more you walked and the more you came closer to Jimin, it was only him that filled your mind. In fact, you didn’t even know where you came from at this point, the details a blur in your head except for Jimin who’s standing in front of you.

“It worked. He bought it.”

It’s the last words that Jimin heard from you before you quite literally froze up, eyes closing solemnly despite standing upright until you open them again, the glaze behind it shining brighter the more you looked at him.

“Jimin, my love,” you drawl, squealing in delight as you launch yourself to him in a hug. “What a handsome soulmate I have.”

Jimin flushes at the realization, frozen in his position as he only puts his hand at the small of your back, patting you in comfort.

He needs some pen and paper, his notes, and the brainpower to calculate his next decision.

( ♡ )

Yoongi makes no move to drive himself home.

He doesn’t even have the willpower to leave from where you left him, his knees giving in to situate himself on the couch where he could sink further in his self-loathing. He has half the mind to recognize that you need the space, especially tonight, even if it means leaving the comfort of your own home because he (your demise) was there.

He doesn’t know anything, other than the fact that he’s repulsive and he wants nothing more than to go seek you but he doesn’t know where he should start; if you would even want to see him in the event that he finds you.

He considers calling your phone and at this point, he’d be contented even with the line ringing or you declining. Yoongi stays rooted in your house as a placeholder that he doesn’t even know you would be acclimated to having, stuck in the very space with no purpose at all.

He’s waiting for either you or a miracle and both revolve around him being able to see you for just one more time, then another, then again and again after so. He’s waiting for you and only you, and he didn’t even think you would come through the door in first place — much more with someone else.

The door beeps open and Yoongi launches himself from where he sat, his stance protective the moment his eyes land on you and Jimin.

The guy is just as shocked to see Yoongi of all people, lips parted open in surprise. Jimin’s just about to ask Yoongi what the hell he’s doing here in the first place but he’s cut off when you grumble against his neck, forgetting momentarily that you were clinging to him by the hip the whole time.

“What are you doing with Y/N?” Yoongi questions, taking large steps towards the both of you. There’s practically smoke coming off from the top of his head, his fists clenched at his sides,

“Taking her to her room, obviously,” Jimin scoffs, attempting to dodge past Yoongi with you in tow but to no avail, the latter’s arm outstretched.

“She’s drunk.”

“She’s not,” Jimin insists, punctuating his desperation.

He moves past Yoongi this time but he doesn’t get far at all, his arm being wrung tightly. His hand awaits on your back out of instinct, the whiplash putting the both of them on edge.

“Hey, buddy, Y/N’s drunk.”

Jimin groans, prying Yoongi’s hand off him just as easily as he clamped it. “She’s not drunk! Not in that way, atleast,” he mutters, putting you closer to his chest that sets off Yoongi further. “Just back off.”

“What do you mean not in that way?” Yoongi bursts, his vision darkening. He sets out a hand once again to get you away from Jimin, his hold on you much gentler. “Asshole. I said don’t-…”

“She’s drunk, but not actually drunk!” Jimin caves, pinching his nosebridge but not before swatting away Yoongi’s hand. The latter belatedly realizes that Jimin’s not even holding onto you to keep you steady, it was purely you clinging to him. Jimin can’t put it into proper, technical terms because he’s always known that Yoongi isn’t his equal ever since high school, dumbing it down the best as he could that it physically makes him shudder.

“She’s drunk… in love.”

“What?” Yoongi squints, his face contorted into confusion and disbelief at the same time. “Are you high?”

“I’m not high. I mean it!” he groans, throwing his head back. He looks at you while you slip in and out of consciousness, his thumb underneath your chin to get you to look up. “Y/N’s literally drunk in love.”

You being attached to Jimin doesn’t make sense. What Jimin’s saying now isn’t making sense. You immediately coming to your ex, Jimin, after your fight with him doesn’t make any sense. None of everything that’s happening is making sense and Yoongi’s head is bound to erupt any time, the migraine forming in his temples giving Jimin a smaller window to explain.

“My friends and I made this drug for our company’s upcoming breakthrough and Y/N volunteered to try it out.”

“You drugged her?!” Yoongi yells, eyes wide and furious.

“I think you have selective hearing,” Jimin grits, offended at the insinuation. “It’s this drug that’s supposed to temporarily desensitize you to your soulmate, okay? It worked because clearly your initials are gone from her.”

None of them should be making sense but it does. It scares Yoongi that this whole thing could be condensed down to an explanation because it only makes it much more real; much more vulnerable.

“So I’m still her soulmate?” he asks with a lump on his throat, his rage simmering down back into sadness.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Jimin snorts, running a hand through his hair. “It’d last for a week but we have yet to know all of the possible side effects,” he kisses his teeth, going through his internal checklist. “So far, we found out that although it desensitizes a person towards their soulmate,” he trails, perhaps a little bit amused if he was saying the truth. “They cling to the first person they see.”

How awful, Yoongi thinks.

“Y/N’s drunk in me,” Jimin announces with a grin. “She thinks I’m her soulmate.”

You’re waking up little by little and Jimin figures that your unconsciousness is only temporary and a one-time thing, considering that you’re back to trying to entangle all of your limbs with him in an eager embrace.

“Snap out of it, Y/N,” Yoongi says outloud to you, completely disregarding that Jimin’s still in the room.

He even makes a move to try and pull you away from him but to no avail, his interruption only making you raise an eyebrow at him. You look at Yoongi from afar despite being near and it’s haunting, the tilt in your head giving your sentiments away.

“Who are you?” you question genuinely, brows furrowed slightly. You turn back to the person you know most in this room at the moment, who’s none other than Jimin. “Who’s he, Jimin?”

“You don’t know this guy?” he questions, his mind computing rapidly.

“Not at all,” you confirm, not sparing a single glance back at Yoongi.

There’s a tense silence because all that Yoongi could hear now is the fuzz in his brain and the pulsing of his heart, his chest deflating in anguish.

“You promise me? You don’t know this guy at all?” Jimin confirms to you once more, assessing you deeply.

“I promise. I’d never lie to you,” you say with a frown, both of the guys knowing that from your tone alone, all you’re saying is the truth.

Jimin takes it down quickly, his tone more somber and less hostile than before.

“That’s another side effect then. Not only can it desensitize, but it also makes you forget about your soulmate completely.”

The two of them are talking as if you’re not in the room with them but it doesn’t make a difference otherwise because you’re only focused on Jimin, your eyes all endeared just by the silhouette of him alone.

Yoongi can’t will his mind to focus on just one thing, his frustration coming off as a strangled yelp.

“You’re shitting me! Make an antidote or something!”

“We still have to wait out the whole week.”

“It’s like you’re just asking me to slap you!” he grits, hand outstretched already yet retreating when Jimin mocks him in return, pointing at you whose head is turned from Yoongi. Of course, you think Yoongi’s your soulmate — of course you’d shower him with affection.

“Can you guys be any louder? I wanna sleep. Please take me to bed,” your attention’s only turned to Jimin, the guy nodding earnestly.

He’s about to coax you into your room when a voice cuts into the air, an eager tap being placed on your shoulder.

“I’m Yoongi.”

You look back at the guy who introduced himself, a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but looks like he’s just begging to be given a sliver of attention.

You don’t mind him though.

“Hi, Yoongi,” you curtly respond, turning your back on him. “Take me to bed, Jimin.”

( ♡ )

Your vocabulary’s not affected by Jimin’s experiment at all, except for the fact that the word you utter most is his name and barely Yoongi’s.

He neither came home nor went to sleep, his mind not being granted even a single second of rest because all he can think about how this is only a mere, flawed glimpse of what you would be like if he wasn’t your soulmate anymore and it’s terrifying. It puts goosebumps onto his skin and instills the fear of fate on him, obvious by the way he’s only been functioning long enough for the past hours for the sake of reliving the same alternate reality again and again.

You come out of your room and there’s still that same dazed look on your face, eyes less crazed but more yearning. Yoongi awaits any reaction from you that would lead him to think everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours is only a figment of his imagination.

It’s early in the morning but the sorrow from the evening already hits you through a frown, your eyes darting everywhere.

“Where’s Jimin?” you ask, shaking your head. “Why am I still here?”

“You live here,” Yoongi answers, keeping his hands to himself. He begrudgingly makes the internal note to relay your momentary forgetting to Jimin later even if talking to him is the last thing he’ll ever want to do.

You gasp then, eagerly nodding your head because that one piece of information definitely traces back to you. “Oh, right,” you nod, your lip curling once again. “Why are you here?”

Yoongi’s not sure how he should answer that.

He’s unsure if he should answer that he’s here and stayed the night because he was worried sick about you after your fight, almost driven to passing out in overwhelm especially when Jimin brought you home.

He doesn’t know if he should say that in your home because it’s only rational since you’re soulmates, and that he dislikes being alone, and that being with you calms him down an infinite amount; if he could just skim over the fact that you barely have any recollection of him and will continue to do so for the next week.

Yoongi can’t determine to whether or not he should tell you that he wants to spend every second with you because should be the precursor for you to believe that you don’t want him anymore, he’s left with a memory of you, no matter how painful.

“Because I live here too,” he says a half-truth, trailing off in remembrance of you nagging him to go back to his house.

“We live together?” you question once again, your face contorted in confusion. “Why?”

You don’t even mean malice with it and Yoongi knows that exactly, the bit of realization even more painful because he knew that you would question him with snark and tears otherwise. In your foggy, Jimin-centric brain, it doesn’t make sense why you and Yoongi practically live together.

Because we’re soulmates, he wants to answer.

It’s the same question he asks himself because he doesn’t know how you let him either — when in reality, he already knows why and it’s because you love him. The even bigger question is if he was even deserving of you.

“Because we wanted to,” Yoongi leaves it at that, clearing his throat as he pushes a plate towards you that he put together on short notice. “Here’s breakfast. This is your favorite.”

You don’t even move to thank him curtly, head tilting in curiosity. You have all the questions yet he doesn’t know if he has all the answers, his heart hurting whichever way he addresses you.

“But why do we want to live with each other?” 

“Because we care for each other.” (Read: because we’re soulmates and because we’ve been friends and soulmates our whole lives and I don’t ever see us parting.)

You nod at Yoongi’s brief answer, stuck in staring off to space for a couple of seconds before you swallow down everything.

“Oh,” you hum somewhat satisfied. “You know where Jimin is?” you open a new line of questioning this time, tone picking up more. “Do we live with him or is it just the two of us?”

Jimin’s testing out his method of withdrawing himself this time, living out the remainder of the week by not making any contact with you and assigning Yoongi to report back to him. He’s not even meant to say everything to you in technical terms, knowing that he has to make up lies the whole week regarding Jimin’s whereabouts.

It’s only and should be a simple, trivial question regarding your living situation but Yoongi can’t help the hiccup that builds in his chest, heart heavy with nothing he can do about.

“Just the two of us,” Yoongi mutters, tracing your initials on his finger discreetly. It was one of the things you did when you felt like confessing to him silently, eyes not even meeting each other’s for you to tell him that you love him. He’s desperate to have you do it to him again — pathetically and helplessly pleading for you to come back to him again. “Always just the two of us.”

.

.

.

Yoongi finds it admirable that you grow warmer to him by the night, nevermind that you’re not doing it for familiarity but rather to get closer to Jimin through him.

Not once does he leave your side whenever you stroll back out to thr living room, plopping onto the couch to eat dinner made by him to which you aren’t weirded about. You no longer inquired him why he’s here, just accepting his presence because the back of your mind tells you that you’re used to him in the first place.

“I miss Jimin,” he hears you sigh for the umpteenth time, an automatic rigid smile painted on his face. He doesn’t want to hear about him at all actually, however he’d do anything just to get you to keep talking in the event that it’s the last he’ll hear from you.

“You don’t say,” he hums, tuning out his name as he tries to pretend that it’s his instead.

You can’t distinguish the far relaxed nature to Yoongi’s intonations because after all, you barely remember any of him and his quirks for you to compare his attitude to. For all you know, he’s just a calm and calculating person that you know in your life, one whose eyes just can’t stop straying to his hands.

Yoongi doesn’t want to feel like he’s mourning but the feeling in his chest is akin to it anyway, something resembling repentance rising out of it from nowhere when you let your curiosity get the best of you.

You’re unfathomably upset because Jimin’s nowhere to be found. One second you’re sighing and at the other you become molten aluminum at thrashing just to see him.

It’s painful to see you like this and he tries his best to gather you to his arms to calm you down, shushing you to the best of his abilities that annoy you even further.

“I don’t want you! I want Jimin!”

“I’m the only one you have,” he says just as urgently, releasing you from his hold but you melt to him anyway, in a fit of tears with your hands covering your face.

It hurts to see you yearn for another person who isn’t him (read: your soulmate) and it hurts more to even grasp that this could’ve been your vignette the whole time that he’s been working, perhaps even the whole time that you’ve been pining after him.

“But I don’t wanna have you,” you enunciate with a sob that wracks your body yet destroy Yoongi’s core, his intake of breath being shallower the more that you refuse him.

“Can you find him for me please? Did I do anything wrong? Maybe he’ll respond to your texts.”

“You’ve never done anything wrong,” he comes to his sense just to scold you, eyes narrowing of why you could’ve conjured up such a thing.

“But I must’ve done something,” you whine. “Jimin doesn’t love me.”

“It’s impossible not to love you,” Yoongi interjects faster than the impulsive thought had formed in your brain, his eyes stern and promising. “Your soulmate must be the luckiest bastard in the world.”

You hear him once again but you can’t understand him, the words meaning nothing to you because you aren’t even sure of the level of relation you had with him before your memory became hazy.

“But my soulmate doesn’t even love me back!” 

You have him there, ironic that you’re going through the same situation twice. You’ve went through it with Yoongi for years genuinely, while you’ve been going through it with Jimin for five days because of an experiment.

“He loves you,” he says it in confidence and assurance, his hands unknowingly making their way to grip your shoulders for you to look at him when he’s speaking the truth. “He’s a conceited asshole and he’s really flawed, but he’s trying his best to love you more than you deserve,” his voice cracks briefly, clearing his throat. “Must be hard to swallow down the fact that the universe is too generous to him because he has you for a soulmate. He must feel like he’s the scum of the earth because he has the greatest, most lovable person in the world loving him, and he used to take it for granted.”

It’s warm. Too warm, too personal, and too familiar — and in your head, Jimin is the only person in your head who fills all three boxes.

“Jimin feels like that?”

“Hmm,” Yoongi agrees, lying easily. “He also hopes that it’s not too late.”

In a moment’s notice, he furthers the distance between the two of you as if the oddly-spurred passionate conversation the two of you had never happened.

Your memory’s not acting up when you remember that you came out to join Yoongi to talk about Jimin, but now, you wouldn’t believe yourself that it’s actually the reason you came out.

This time it’s you who reaches out for Yoongi, clearing your throat.

“Who’s that?” you point to his ring finger, eyes peeking at the initials. It’s just like yours, the irony of it making you giggle. “That’s not me, isn’t it?” 

“And if it was?” Yoongi asks, eyes still gentle but his voice much too mellow to the point that you’d think he isn’t breathing.

“I wouldn’t believe you,” you answer, carelessly shrugging.

Yoongi purses his lips and he knows he should stop prodding now because the last time he did, it ended with him driving you right into Jimin’s arms to experiment him out of your life. He can’t hold his tongue now, even when he knows he’s bound to suffer from himself anyway.

“Why not?”

“Because if that’s me, then I should be in love with you right now and not Jimin,” you trail, your tone reeking obviousness. It’s clear enough for you, atleast, but Yoongi takes nothing but murkiness from it.

“Hmm,” he hums, pointing to your hand. “Why do you love Jimin if his initials aren’t on your finger then?”

“You got me there,” you snort, the words unwilling to roll off easily from your mouth. In fact, nothing forms in your mind anyway, just a mere vision that you can discern yet not verbalize. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I just love him.”

It’s a confession that sets you apart from the soulmate that Yoongi knows, all before you had been desperate enough to desensitize yourself to his very existence.

“You can’t explain love?” he asks gently, eyes lowering down in thought.

“Can anybody?” you counter resignedly, the concept of just settling for the fact that there’s things that are unexplainable being enough for you.

Yoongi feels the most alive that he’s felt since the past day, the smile on his face being so nostalgic and sentimental to you for some reason that it momentarily makes you dizzy.

“My soulmate can. She’d profess her love for me every chance she gets. Would do it in all the ways she could find.”

You can explain love. You’re talkative and you always have the right words to say. You have the stubbornness in you that when put to its fullest power, puts his ego to shame. You have the convincing power of a company in you, one that has nothing to its name and only its very being to prove with.

You can put love into words and it’s daunting how you can condense everything you’ve ever felt for Yoongi into the many confessions you give him. In your loud drunken spiels all the way to your silent telepathic stints — you’re the embodiment of love. You can explain love and it makes sense because you would know your own.

“She sounds like a handful,” you murmur, brows furrowed to how Yoongi describes someone who’s clearly not on the same wavelength as he is with lovesick dedication in his face.

“She’s my handful though.”

“Does she come by here often then?” your brows raise, your headache throbbing the more that Yoongi speaks to you.

“You already know her,” Yoongi smiles tightly, looking right through you. He looks at you like he’s a dog that looks for its owner, ready to be at your beck and call. “I just don’t know if you can’t recognize her.”

“Show me a picture! Maybe it’ll jog my memory,” you offer enthusiastically, already knowing that you’re missing bits here and there but maybe seeing Yoongi’s soulmate would push you to remember faster.

“Maybe another time.”

Yoongi’s turned solemn, breathing shallowly as if he doesn’t want you to have a clue that you’re even seeing him right now.

“It’s just a picture! You looked like you were gonna cry when you were talking about her,” you pout, giving in eventually. “Aw, come on! You’re not sharing her?” 

“No,” he answers almost immediately, masking his certainty with an uneasy chuckle. “I hope not.” 

( ♡ )

You feel fuzzy.

Fuzzy in the sense that you remember clearly the two days you’ve lived but operated with your mind from afar; every interaction and every word crystal clear.

Fuzzy in the sense that it’s overwhelming, the good kind this time, but still overwhelming to the point that you have to take a breather outside of your apartment that feels suffocating to be in.

You’re five days ahead of schedule, the effect of the pill that was supposed to desensitize you to Yoongi and have other as drastic side effects being cut early.

It’s only relief that fills you when you walk out and hear Yoongi’s light snores in your guest bedroom instead of the living room, alleviating your momentary guilt at leaving this time — but only to give yourself the space to think, of course.

It’s only solace that envelopes you when you screw your eyes shut and look to your ring finger while you hold your breath, the consolation of seeing Yoongi’s initials still on there satiating you.

You’re not in your room and not even in the apartment at all. You’re not at the hallway and not even anywhere in your entire apartment complex. You’re not at the convenience store nearby where you typically go on walks just to take your mind off things and buy yourself snacks. He’s already checked and checked — Yoongi can’t find you anywhere.

He fears the worst. The absolute, most heartbreaking worst. He can’t even fathom where he got the strength to dial your number on his phone because he thought he would be faced with nothing, the proof that you’ve cut all ties with him by disconnecting completely.

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him when you answer easily on the second ring, your voice lighthearted.

“You’re wrong,” you hum. “Your apartment’s easy to break into just like mine.”

“Where are you?” Yoongi asks first amongst the other hundred questions he’s been dying to do so, the relief that fills him unable to be topped. You’ve just said your location but he still asks, hesitant that this may just be some cruel joke.

You stay quiet at your side of the line, looking around his place with a fondness you can’t even begin to start tackling.

“I’m at home.”

There’s nothing that comes to your mind besides the fact that it actually looks like your home. It resembles your home when you only had a mattress on the floor and no bedframe when you moved in, when you started sticking up pictures with tape that you didn’t know would ruin the walls, and when you finally found your sense of the style and had the finances and time to do it — it resembles your home all at the same time.

There’s several pictures of you and Yoongi together that line up the walls and the shelves, notes written behind them in your handwriting that you didn’t think he would keep.

Your parcels that he received with your name on it are all gathered near the doorway, the flyers of your favorite restaurants hung up by the fridge. Yoongi’s house looks more like your home and it almost brings you to tears.

He never noticed it, in fact. Hasn’t noticed the way that his definition of his home has shifted to your taste and how his definition of love turned into you. It had been gradually building through the years that Yoongi hasn’t stopped to figure that your home has become his, all to the point that he’s been living in it the whole time.

“I’m waiting,” you mutter as soon as you open the door to Yoongi who had ran all the way here in a frenzy, chest heaving up and down. “I’m waiting for you to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do that and more,” Yoongi nods in earnest and immediately leaps in to kiss you, finally feeling that you’ve given him the opportunity to breathe. 

He kisses you so endearingly that you’re surprised you haven’t done it before with him because the way he does so feels like second nature. He breathes you in until he feels like he can exhale, catching his breath as he settles his head to the crook of your neck.

“I was waiting for that too,” you snort, speaking at the same time as him.

“What I said that night-…”

“I remember,” you interrupt. “You’re not the scum of the earth, Yoongi, and I’m not the greatest person in the world either.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” he rolls his eyes even if he knows a fool would see that you aren’t anything short of great. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he apologizes, eyes flickering to yours. “But you don’t have to wait around for me anymore, okay?”

It’s a great mound of consolation that he’d be willing to trek over and over again if it means making up for everything he’s done.

“I can’t love you the way that you love me because nobody can compare to you,” he whispers, crossing his heart in promise. “But believe me, please, I’ll make up for all of the lost time and I’ll love you the best that I could.”

It’s a progress, a working one at that, wherein you’d meet Yoongi in the middle of.

“I can’t confess my love for you every two weeks-…”

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, playfully attempting to break off his hug to which he doesn’t let you.

“Because that’s too spread out. I’ll do it everyday,” Yoongi finishes, the grin on his face pleasantly annoying.

“You’re the worst,” you weakly offer, letting yourself into the moment of vulnerability by abandoning your defenses.

“You’re sounding like me,” he laughs, pressing just one more kiss to your forehead.

You’re the universe’s reward to Yoongi for everything he’s ever done, the resounding desire in his whole being to just be the best he could ever be for you reverberating throughout his home and yours.

“You don’t have to ask me to love you anymore,” he says gently, eyes holding up the entirety of a truth he can’t deny. “I’d give you the sun even if you didn’t ask me to.”

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter viii

Summary: After Lord James' revelation, there isn't much more time before the wedding. However, someone in the realm has other plans for House Barnes' big day.

Warning: Arranged Marriage. Implied Sexual Assault and Violence. Disturbing Imagery. Emotional Distress. Mentions of Physical Restraint.

Word Count: 1836

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A/N: I'm back, adding more trauma into my character's lives. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love | @mrsnikstan | @learisa | @railmesebstan | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @barnesxstan | @ghalouha | @mrsstuckyboo | @g-nobody | @mishidrish

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment

With the recent revelation of Lord James’ true feelings, your hearts brimmed with a renewed sense of joy and anticipation as the wedding approached. Every waking moment was filled with preparations and each task was imbued with the excitement of the life you would lead as Lady Barnes. 

About a month and a half before the wedding, on one crisp morning, you found yourself mulling over the details of the wedding’s feast. You had been presented with several options from the kitchen staff for the menu, and you were particularly taken with a few dishes. Unable to come to a definite conclusion, you decided to seek Lord James’ opinion directly. 

With a basket of sample dishes in hand, you made your way to the council chambers. As you approached the large wooden doors, you hesitated briefly, hearing the low murmur of voices inside. With a deep breath, you pushed the doors open and stepped into the room. The eyes of the council members turned to you in surprise. 

“Pardon the interruption,” you began, a flush of heat spreading to your cheeks under their scrutinizing gazes. “I just need to speak to you, Lord James, about the feast menu.” 

Seated at the head of the table, Lord James raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. “My last, this is a rather… unexpected visit. What is it you need?” 

You pressed on, holding up the basket, unfazed by the curious, disapproving looks from the advisors. “The kitchen staff prepared some samples for the wedding feast, and I wanted to hear your opinion on them.” 

With a stern expression, an advisor cleared his throat. “My lady, we are in the middle of a crucial discussion regarding our defenses.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, the realization of what you walked into, and what you heard back in the stables a few weeks back, dawned on you. “I didn’t realize… I’ll wait outside.” 

Before you could retreat, Lord James spoke up. “It’s quite alright,” he said, indulgence and authority laced in his tone. “We could all use a brief respite. Bring the samples here.” 

The tension in the room eased slightly as you approached the table. Placing the basket in front of Lord James, you began to explain the dishes, excitement bubbling over. 

“This is a roast pheasant with a honey glaze,” you stated, pointing to the first dish as you read from a note. “And this is a spiced venison stew. Oh, I also thought a variety of fruit tarts would be nice for dessert. What do you think, my lord?” 

Lord James nodded appreciatively as he sampled the dishes thoughtfully. “They’re excellent choices, my lady. I believe our guest will be quite pleased.” 

The advisors, though initially taken aback by your interruption, seemed to relax as they watched the exchange between you and Lord James. A few even allowed themselves small smiles as you offered samples to them. 

However, one advisor, a grizzled man, sneered. “This is hardly the time for such nonsense. Women should know their place and stay out of men’s affairs.” 

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Lord James had been silently brooding at the head of the table, his eyes piercing when suddenly, he rose from his seat. How voice cold and unwavering. “Speak ill of my betrothed again, and you’ll learn just how fiercely I will defend what is mine.” All eyes were on Lord James as he continued, the room remaining still. “She is the future of Winter’s Reach and this House. She will have your respect.” 

The advisor blanched, realizing his mistake. “My lord, I meant no disrespect,” he stammered, bowing his head. 

For a moment longer, Lord James’ eyes remained fixed on the advisor before turning back to you, his expression softening. “Thank you for bringing these samples, my lady. Your input is always welcome.” 

A surge of happiness coursed through you with Lord James’ approval. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll let the kitchen staff know.” You began to leave but paused, glancing back at him. “And thank you for your patience. I didn’t mean to disrupt your council.” 

“Think nothing of it,” he replied, a warm smile tugged the corners of his mouth.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment as you exited the council chambers, the doors closing softly behind you. The preparations for the wedding were falling into place, and with Lord’s genuine affection now clear, the excitement for the future only grew. 

~

The weeks leading up to the wedding passed in a blur, Lord James had been showing a newfound tenderness, and your heart swelled with hope. The incident in the council room was long behind the two of you, but the respect Lord James had commanded in your defense remained a vivid reminder of his feelings. 

You found yourself drifting into a deep sleep, one particularly cold night, wrapped in the warmth of thick pelted blankers. Dreams of your wedding and the future, danced through your mind, filling you with a sense of peace and contentment. 

Suddenly, you were jolted awake by the sounds of distant screams and the acrid smell of smoke. Throwing the blankets and rushing to the window, panic gripped your heart. Flames licked at the night sky, chaos illuminated outside. As you tried to make sense of the scene unfolding below, your mind raced. The once peaceful courtyard of Winter’s Reach was now a battlefield of shadows and fire. 

Grabbing a clock, you hurried to the door without hesitation. However, just as you were about to pull it open, it swung inward– revealing a figure cloaked in darkness. Your heart pounded in your chest causing you to gasp and stumble back. 

“Who–” you began, but the words caught in your throat as the figure stepped into the light of your chamber. 

The figure, tall and menacing, his unfamiliar face twisted into a sinister smile. You could tell by the roughness of his attire and the cold gleam in his eyes that he was not a knight of Winter’s Reach.

“Well, well,” he said, malice dripping from his lips. “Look what we have here.” 

Before you could react, he lunged forward. He grabbed your arm with a vice-like grip and panic surged through you as he dragged you back into your chambers. The door slammed shut behind you.

“Let go of me!” you screamed, struggling against him, yet his grip only tightened. 

“Quiet,” he hissed, a cruel smirk played on his lips. “We wouldn’t want to cause a scene now, would we?” 

Your heart raced faster as you looked around desperately, trying to figure out an escape route. His presence was overwhelming, a suffocating sense of dread filling the room. 

“What do you want?” you demanded, you tried to keep your voice steady however your voice came out in a whisper. 

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Just a little fun,” he whispered. “I didn’t think I’d come across a little doll like you tonight.” 

His words sent a chill down your spine. The realization of his implication fueled your determination to fight back.

You twisted in his grip, a burst of adrenaline helped you to free one arm. But, before you could do anything more, he threw you onto your bed with brutal force. The break knocked out of you on impact, and before you could recover, he was on top of you, pinning you down. 

You screamed in refusal, trying to push him off, but he was too strong. He tore at your nightgown, the sound of ripping fabric under his hands filled your ears. You fought with everything you had, you scratched and clawed at him, but it was no use– he pressed his weight down on you, suffocating and overpowering. 

“Firey one, aren’t you?” he sneered with his face inches from yours. A foul smell came from his breath and a wave of terror coursed through you from the look in his eyes. 

Your desperate struggles grew weaker under his oppressive weight and the night continued to unfold in a blur of terror and helplessness. The chaos outside became a distant echo as the events within your chambers consumed you.

~

The battle had been fierce, but now that it was over Lord James hurried through the smoke hallways of Winter’s Reach. His heart pounded with worry and fear, his thoughts consumed with finding you. As he neared your quarters, he quickened his steps, dread clawing at his chest. 

He noticed something amiss as he approached– the door to your chambers was slightly ajar. Panic surged through his body as he called out your name, pushing the door open. He received no response. 

The sight that greeted him froze him in his tracks. 

Sat on the floor, in the corner of the room, there you were. Your nightgown was torn, barely covering you. Your hands clasped together, muffled words leaving your lips– eyes distant, lost in a world of your own making.

Lord James’ heart shattered into thousands of icy shards as his eyes swept the room. His gaze locked onto the disheveled bed, its pristine white sheets now marred by a stark, crimson stain. The sight seemed to freeze time around him, every small detail etching itself into his mind with painful clarity. Your room, once your sanctuary, now bore the scares of unspeakable violence. 

“Gods, no,” Lord James whispered urgently, rushing to your side. Dropping to his knees beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your trembling shoulder. “It’s me, I’m here. You’re safe now, my love.” 

You recoiled in terror as he tried to embrace you, pushing him away with unexpected strength. Your body shook as you cried uncontrollably. Lord James felt his heart breaking at the sigh of your fear.

“No! Get away from me!” you cried, your voice raw with panic. “Don’t touch me!” 

The agony in Lord James’ eyes matched yours as he froze. Yet, despite your resistance, he refused to leave you alone in this moment of despair. He tried again, gently, his voice steady and soothing. 

“It’s okay, my love. It’s me, it's James,” he repeated softly, moving closer. “I’m here. You’re safe now. I promise.” 

Your sobs continued, you struggled to comprehend what had happened as your body trembled. Slowly, cautiously he reached out to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thick as tears spilled over his cheeks. “I should have been here to protect you. I swear to you, I will find whoever did this. They will pay for what they’ve done.” 

Tears soaked his chest as you clung desperately to him. He held you tighter, murmuring comforting and reassuring words as he rocked you gently. Your resistance softened gradually and you began to lean into his embrace, seeking solace in his arms. 

Together, in the silence of your chambers, Lord James vowed to stand by you, protect you, and help you heal.

---

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[drdemonprince]

I am very very attracted to my boss and it's driving me insane. There's this amazing chemistry and tension between us and all day long we're just teasing eachother and flirting. We're always gravitating towards eachother and happy to see eachother, finding excuses to work together, etc. He is, however, a straight man twice my age who has a girlfriend and I'm a trans guy who could be completely misreading our interactions. Straight guys often banter and "flirt" with eachother so maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe he's just excited to be some sort of a mentor figure to me and he likes to be admired, and likes to see me grow and learn, and that's all there is to it. He calls me his protege which I find incredibly hot. Anyway I'm seriously contemplating whether I should confess my attraction. I'm not really anticipating him to reciprocate, but would do it more so to get rejected so I would be able to stop fantasizing about him all day long and give myself some closure. On the other hand, I don't want to humiliate myself and create a possible distance or awkwardness between us. There would be no consequences for my job so that's not an issue. I was wondering if you have any words of wisdom for me? You always have such a unique yet sobering outlook on things and I would love to hear your thoughts on this situation.

"Unique yet sobering outlook"! That's the kind of compliment I would have put in the word document alongside all my favorite feedback from English professors back in the day when I still needed that. Sincerely, thank you.

I am of several minds with regard to your question. On the one hand, I think straight people are terminally monogamous most of the time and that it would be hell on earth to get involved with this man and draw the potential ire of his girlfriend even if they weren't.

I think it's usually a self-hating maneuver to date a straight man as a trans masc (I have been there, it is terrible) but as a gay man, I support the frisson of danger that comes with seducing a heterosexual and think it would be a baller little feather in your cap to ruin this man's identity and relationship for a fling with you, even if it would be destined to end in agony.

I hear that this misadventure will not affect your job, but I don't exactly understand how that could be true. It sounds as if you work together quite closely and that his flirty banter is part of what makes the gig pleasant, and even if he doesn't have the capacity to fire you (I'm guessing) this affair could devastate the vibe enough that someone else might step in and fire you for its indirect consequences. happens sometimes.

Part of me however does believe in "fuck it we ball" and in being a bit reckless when you find yourself in a moment of raw, transfixing chemistry. chasing after fascinating moments that are destined to shatter our hearts is one of the core aspects of being alive. It keeps us growing, fills us with vigor! Who doesn't want to one day have an interesting story of a love affair like that?

One of my follow up questions would be how rare this kind of connection is for you. If it were me? Someone I truly connect with on the level you are describing is rare, and I've been willing to risk upending my life as i know it over a fleeting few weeks or months of passion before, and sometimes it's been worth it! Some mistakes are worth making, because we will become stronger and more interesting people after they happen!

But another part of me also thinks "straight men flirt with eachother sometimes" makes no sense and that what you are likely experiencing is him not seeing you as a man, or doing the thing some sensitive straight guys do of leeching attention off of queer men to feed their egos. (Which isn't evil, we all need attention sometimes, but it can be devastating.). If he lets you down because he sees you as a man and is not gay, that might relieve the pressure for you and work out fine. If he is into you because he doesn't see you as a man, you two will fuck and it will be horrible in the long term probably. But maybe hot in the short term.

I also think there are probably hotter ways to play this one (and more strategically effective ones) than a straight-up love confession, which would probably force him to bring up his girlfriend as the reason not to pursue it.

I think if you really want to SEDUCE this man you should spend time with him after work, ask him to mentor you on a labor intensive but potentially rewarding project, disclose little personal details that endear him to you, ask him lots of questions about himself, allow him to open up to you about his life... and then strike.

I think it'll be interesting if you go for it, at least. I certainly want to hear the story. But I don't want you to get fired, lose a mentorship that is important to your career, or get your ass beat by the gf.

So I will also tap my followers for their feedback.

[winterrrnight]

heyy, so, it’s pride day so i was thinking a if u could do a drew/rafe imagine where the female reader is bi so he supports his girl when ppl talk shit about her

ohhh I love this so much!! I decided to go with my man drew 🤭 unfortunately this isn’t coming out on pride day, but I did manage to squeeze it in before pride month ends :) thank you so so much for your request anon, I would love to hear your views on it!! <3

here to stay

PAIRING: drew starkey x fem!bisexual!reader

SUMMARY: you experience inner turmoil when pictures of your ex-girlfriend and you resurface the internet, but it seems like you forgot Drew will always defend you no matter what.

WARNINGS: homophobia; hate comments on reader on social media and in public; one mentiom of y/n; usage of nicknames like baby and bubs; soft and sweetheart Drew; kinda toxic fandom 🫢

EDITH SPEAKS: before I got this request, I read a random charles leclerc smau that was on my dash which goes along similar lines of this request, so I have taken inspiration from that fic for this request! the credit goes to @lewisvinga and their fic ‘the only thing that matters’.

if you liked reading this, please reblog and share any feedback you may have 💐 i hope everyone had a beautiful pride month, you all are absolutely lovely 💗

AND AND AND I am dedicating this fic to the beautiful beautiful @runningfrom2am who is literally my bestest friend on this planet <3 today marks one whole year to our friendship, and words fall short to explain how much I love and appreciate her 🫶🏼🥹 I love you so so much raye, thank you for sticking with me always 💗

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You usually never do this.

‘This’ involves scrolling through social media and reaching the bottom of a pit dug so deep you’ve lost the measurement of its depth.

Some pictures of you and your ex-girlfriend from over four years ago from your college days resurfaced. You don’t know how that happened, considering how you and your ex-girlfriend always only had private socials back then, and you weren’t known for being associated with any sort of celebrity at all.

Unlike now, when you are known as Outer Banks actor Drew Starkey’s girlfriend. Drew Starkey: one of the emerging faces in Hollywood. He seems to be gaining more and more traction each day, especially leading up to the release of his movie ‘Queer’.

With his ever increasing fame, you are also becoming more and more well known. You and Drew don’t have a secret relationship, but it’s quite private. Firstly Drew isn’t active on his socials, and secondly, you’re only seen when you are Drew’s plus one for the different events he’s invited to.

Due to such scarce presence on social media and in real life, each time you and him are spotted, even a single photo tends to go extremely viral in Drew’s fandom. Headlines like‘Rare: Drew Starkey seen with his girlfriend on the streets of Paris’, ‘Drew and his girlfriend seen getting cozy in a snug Parisian café’ etc. get extremely common, and informal captions like ‘oh my godddddd drew and his girlfriend! so cute’, ‘drew and y/n spotted drew and y/n spotted drew and y/n spotted’ are also just as common.

As much as you adore Drew and his dedication to his art, you still aren’t used to the microscopic attention you get each time you and him are seen together. You feel like you’re being judged by every single eye, and they aren’t essentially thinking the best things regarding you.

Even though what you mostly see are sweet comments complimenting you and Drew, a hate comment or two does sneak its way in among the positive ones, which doesn’t essentially surprise you because you know fandoms tend to get possessive over their idols; and Drew’s fandom isn’t any different. You’ve learnt to accept it and ignore it, even though sometimes it does nag you in the back of your mind, Drew always helps you feel better and helps to get your mind off them until you practically forget you ever even read them.

But this time, this time, you fear the situation is a little out of hand.

With the photos resurfacing and the source being entirely anonymous, you aren’t seeing the best comments under the pictures. Some fans have dug so far in your life to figure out you’ve only dated girls before Drew, creating the assumption you’re actually a lesbian. Some claim you’re with Drew for his money, because your dating history is only girls, and it’s “weird” now that you’re with a man. Some claim you as a toxic partner, and say you have Drew completely fooled. You even saw a few ‘savedrew’ hashtags in the comments, but thank goodness it didn’t end up becoming an active trend.

Due to the privacy of your relationship, you never came out publicly that you’re bisexual, but your friends and family, and Drew, are fully aware about your sexuality because you are completely out to them. Drew has always appreciated you the same, before he knew you were bisexual and after he knew you were bisexual. His love for you was never impacted by your coming out, and he knows it never will.

You shut your phone and keep it aside, taking a deep, shaky breath as you look up at the ceiling of your shared hotel room with Drew. You can feel a few tears stinging the corners of your eyes, and you let your eyelids fall shut, the small tears silently starting to roll down your cheeks.

Your blurry vision trains over to the closed bathroom door from where you can hear the shower running, knowing Drew is getting ready for your night out with him. You both are in Italy as a simple vacation before Drew has to go back to LA and begin working on some upcoming projects, and it’s your first night in the country, for which you’ve decided to have authentic Italian gelato as an after dinner treat.

You can practically hear the comments you have read in your head, all of them getting progressively worse. You know you aren’t using Drew for his money, and Drew knows that too, yet the comments and watching an entire fandom side against you was starting to get to you.

Your thoughts are cut through smoothly when you hear Drew stepping out of the washroom after his shower, a towel tied neatly around his waist.

“You ready?” He asks you sweetly as he gets some clothes to wear.

You nod at him and watch him finish getting ready for your little night out as you sit there, pushing the ugly comments as far as you can in your head.

Drew gets ready in a few minutes and you both leave your hotel, walking out on the cobblestoned streets of the beautiful city, letting the streetlights and lamp posts enlighten your path for you.

You both walk in silence with your hand perfectly intertwined with his, your gaze fixed down at your shoes and the way they clack against the cobblestones. Drew notices you being quieter than usual, and he feels tempted to ask you what’s on your mind, because the last thing he ever wants to see is you feeling sad or bothered by something in any sort of way.

But before Drew can even think of acting on his thoughts, you both are forced to turn your heads around when you hear shouts of Drew’s names being called. Your eyes fall on a group of youngsters, and the moment they grab Drew’s attention, they yell out more sounds of excitement, ushering over to him.

He laughs affectionately when he’s surrounded by the small group of the fans, causing you to be pushed just a little to the side; something you’ve gotten the hang of because you know the fans are essentially here to see him, and not you. So you decide to take a couple steps back and watch Drew interact patiently with everyone, letting them take pictures and videos with him as he talks and signs their shirts, books etc. for them.

You can see a young girl and a boy from the group constantly giving you a side eye as you decide to distract yourself with your phone after you take a picture or two of Drew meeting the group. You can’t lie, the side eyes seem quite judge-y to you and you feel yourself fidgeting under their gaze.

But it gets worse when they speak within themselves but it’s loud enough that you catch it, and Drew catches it.

“She’s still with him?” The girl says to the boy who just rolls his eyes.

“Drew clearly didn’t catch the message,” the boy mumbles, and your eyes dart over to Drew who was signing a girl’s cap but stopped at the words. You catch the look in his eyes; it’s the look of protectiveness, possessiveness and anger all mixing in one – a very dangerous combination to be seen in Drew’s usually warm blue eyes.

“What did you say?” Comes his voice. It’s low, monotone, and carries a very heavy drift of coldness. The sudden deep words cause everyone to fall silent, especially the boy and the girl, who’s eyes widen when they realize Drew has his gaze zeroed on them.

“N-nothing…” the boy stammers, and you can see both the girl and boy have their pulse quickening more and more with each passing second.

You can see how scared they are starting to get, and you quickly rush over to Drew’s side, your fingers curling around his bicep in that all too familiar way; the way you use when Drew gets slightly more angry than he should and is on the verge of blowing up.

This touch of yours always causes him to start to calm down, but this time, he isn’t even close to relaxing. You can see his muscles are tensing even more as he glares at the boy and the girl.

“Drew please–” you begin to speak slowly, your fingertips starting to dig into his bicep but he ignores you.

“No, I want to hear them repeat what they said.” He mutters through gritted teeth, his attention fixed on the boy and the girl. “What did you say about my girl? ‘Why is she still with me?’ Why wouldn’t she still be with me huh?”

The girl and the boy fall completely silent, and so does the entire group. They get completely nervous under Drew’s cold gaze, all of them looking any other way but at Drew or you.

“Now I don’t know what that was about,” he begins, “but I better not hear more of that bullshit alright?” His words come out disdainful, his entire body stiff as you feel his bicep tighten under your grip.

With one scoff he takes your hand which is around his bicep in his own hand and pulls you away from the group. “Come on let’s go baby,” he says, not looking even once at the group as he leads you away from them.

Once you both are out of their earshot, he turns around in a small alleyway and stops you both right there.

“Don’t listen to them bubs, please don’t,” He mumbles softly, his hand coming up to your cheek to gently caress your skin. “You know it’s all just bullshit, their jealousy is bullshit,”

You let out a soft sigh as you feel his fingers softly trail over your cheek. This is what he always tells you when you encounter the common hate you tend to get for being with him, but this time, you know it was for an entirely different reason.

“This was different Drew,” you mutter, your gaze fixed down at your shoes, your fingers fiddling with each other.

Drew’s eyebrows furrow at your words. “Different? Different how?”

You take a deep breath and exhale it out from your nose as you train your gaze up to meet his. “My old pictures with my ex-girlfriend from college resurfaced on the internet, along with my past dating history,” you whisper, “and everyone’s been saying I’m taking advantage of your money and I have you fooled because I’ve only dated girls before you, and they think I’m a lesbian,”

Drew’s eyes widen at these words escaping your lips, his fingers caressing your cheek stopping its motion. “Jesus,” he mutters, and you can see flecks of anger and rage beginning to appear in his eyes.

A small silence falls over you both as you both look in different directions, your gaze back at your shoes and his flitting around your surroundings of the alleyway, as if in deep thought.

“I’ll talk about it,” he says suddenly, causing you to look up in his eyes with a hint of confusion in your eyes. “I’ll address this on social media, I’ll say I’ve always known you’re bisexual, and that you’ve always been out, and I’ve never doubted that. This can’t go on, the last thing I want is people being homophobic to you just because you’ve only dated girls before I came in your life. You don’t deserve that baby, and I’ll fix this matter right up okay?”

You look at him with your eyes starting to widen, a thin layer of glass forming over them.

“Unless–” he says again, “you don’t want to come out to the general public?”

“No no,” you shake your head at his words, “I’m okay with that, more than okay with that,” you mumble.

Drew sighs softly as he nods, his hands trailing down your arms and finding your hips, which he gently squeezes before pulling you in a warm embrace.

“I’m so sorry you had to hear that baby,” he whispers. “I’m so so sorry. I’ll fix this first thing tomorrow you hear me? There is no way in heck I’m letting you hear more on this,”

You bury your face in his chest and close your eyes shut, a few tears making their way down your eyes and pressing against his shirt as they do so. He squeezes you closer to him when he feels your tears against his shirt, one hand coming up to slip into your hair and gently scratch your scalp.

“Thank you, Drew,” you mumble against his shirt, your voice coming out muffled.

“Don’t thank me bubs this is the least I can do,” he says softly. He gently pulls your head back from his chest, holding your face in his hands as he looks in your eyes.

“The next time you see something on social media you tell me straight away okay? Don’t hide anything from me, I’ll find a way to fix it each time,” he whispers, his thumbs caressing your cheeks to wipe the tears.

You nod as you look back in his eyes, a look of earnest gratitude shining through them.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, letting his lips linger against your skin for a moment before looking back in your eyes. He pulls from the embrace and takes your hand, intertwining his with it firmly.

“Now come on, I believe I still have to buy you some gelato,” he says softly with a warm smile, tugging gently on your hand.

You sniff as you nod, letting him lead you out of the silent alleyway.

The post debuts on Drew’s Instagram the very next morning, a long caption along with a carousel of your favorite pictures with him throughout the years of your dating journey. The comments fill up with supporters, everyone showering you with love and loads even congratulating you for coming out to the general public. The comments and appreciation makes you smile warmly, making you realize no matter what happens, Drew will always be by your side, because he’s here to stay.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @saccharinesammie, @maybankslover, @totalswag, @madelynie, @chenslucy /

@ietss, @elle-mp3, @viawritesstuff, @wallsdreams, @mistress-amidala, @sadfury, @sage-burrow /

@jamesbuckybarneswify, @xxxlaura, @callsignwidow, @starkowswife, @drewstarkeyswifehoe, @jjchaer /

@f4ll-for-you, @wearemadeofstardust0, @drewsmusee, @rafegirly, @addriaenne /

@leighbronk, @rafesdrew, @bejeweledreverie, @raf3sgff, @aerangi, @drewstarkey1bae /

@moneymaybank, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @noahkahansorangejuice, @rafesgiirl, @theoraekenslover /

@fals3-g0d, @personalfavsthatarerandom, @b1mb0slvt, @babypoguelife, @ilyrafe, @oxpogues4lifexo /

@fionaswifeyy /

[redwineandtarot]

Who are you?

hi! today's pac is all about you. i want to say that every person has so many layers and this a general (and a too short to describe a person fully) reading. so please keep this in mind while reading. you may be drawn to more than one pile in this reading as well. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3

decks used: raider waite tarot deck, ethereal visions tarot deck, spirit animal oracle deck, the soul's journey lesson cards, moonology oracle cards, archetypes cards

🥀paid readings🥀

Disclaimer:My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.

pick a pile

pile 1-2

pile 3-4

i do not own any of these photos

pile 1

I see that you mostly radiate feminine energy. And you are highly spiritual in some way. You have a gift of manifesting. Of course everybody can manifest things intentionally but your approach is kinda different? It is like you have mastered manifesting from the get go.

You may also have a great protective barrier around you. I kinda struggled to read your energy. You really have a highly spiritual vibe. Even if you are not that spiritual you have the “gift”. Everybody can be spiritual, I mean, however something about you feels different. I cannot really put my finger to it.

Number 4 may be significant. 

You have really strong feminine energy and like the feminine energy you can deal with chaos. You can bring chaos in an intentional way. You are not afraid to put an end to things and start new. You can use chaos to manifest the things you want.

Water element may be significant.

While you are a spiritual person you know when to use your logic. Your logic and spiritual sides are not in war but they, together, help you move through life. 

You may sometimes be sharp with your words despite you giving me a calm energy. You have a calm and intentional chaos. You may be witty and win arguments easily.

You may sometimes be indecisive about your intuition. You may have a knowing inside you but just because you don't see a real life “proof”, so you may find it hard to believe it.

You may also have guilt while enjoying worldly pleasures. In the end we are still living in a material world so do not shy away from them. As long as you do not have addictions and know when to say “no”  it is okay, pile 1.

Embrace your chaotic side.

Extra messages

You may have been waiting for a manifestation for a long time. Do not worry it will come in an unexpected time. Whatever you are doing, keep going. 

I also see an unexpected emotional situation happening. You may be meeting someone new (romantic or platonic), you may hear something that will make you feel really happy or this again may be your manifestation coming and you feeling intense emotions regarding that.

saturn, sagittarius, 3rd house

thank you for reading <3

pile 2

You are a highly creative person, pile 2. For most of you, this is a creativeness in art, music etc. However this can be in other things as well. Or you may bring this side of yourself to your daily life while being a creative person in art. You are really original when it comes to creativity.

You have a colorful personality. You may use art to heal yourself. You may be expressing things that you cannot while talking with others through your art. Some of you had nothing but art/music while you were growing up so it became like your friend. It healed you.

Number 5 may be significant.

You have a child-like energy to you. You are in balance with your emotions. Maybe because of these two qualities you are able to create such wonderful things.

You have spirit guides that are near you a lot. They encourage you on your path. See you like their friend.

Another intuitive pile. You have a great intuition. You may want to try channeling through art.

You may hide your sorrows, abandoning them almost sometimes. But you try to nurture your inner child. I am not sure what happened in the past pile 2, it is probably different for each one of you but i want to say that you are such a brave person for not leaving your inner child alone. Something that happened in your childhood(mostly) or teenage years may have scarred you a lot and you are still trying to heal yourself. 

People may envy your creativity. And see you as an abundant person. And you probably are. And I see you living an abundant life. (Abundance may be in different or multiple things) You deserve it pile 2.

Your words are powerful. I see lots of different talents: singing, painting, writing etc. 

Extra messages

Do not burden yourself with little details. You may benefit from slowing down a bit and looking at the bigger picture.

Maybe you need a little vacation or an adventure.

sagittarius, 5th house, north node

thank you for reading <3

pile 3

You are a healer in some sort of way pile 3. You may be the mom friend of the group. You may work/ want to work in a medical field or a field where you help beings. But for most of you it is related to health. You are great at giving advice and hyping people up. You see the little details in people that they may not see. You are a detail-oriented person. Your observations are on point most of the time.

You have what it takes to be a great leader. 

You are a multifaceted person.

You may be more on the quiet side. But not because you are shy, it is just a preference. You probably have a friend group that you would give so much to. You love and prefer grounded relationships. You are not likely to have a big friend group or a friend group whose bonds are loose. You like your alone time.

Spirit is protecting your loved ones.

You are ready to work hard for the things you want. I see that you have great visions/big dreams for yourself. However you keep them on the low. You probably work hard in silence. 

You value your peace and are not afraid to leave something for your happiness.

You give me so much earthy energy. You probably honor nature and love spending time out in nature.

You may fear failure. And can sometimes leave things at a place where you have one more step to go for achieving your goal. 

Extra messages

You may have something in your mind that you are afraid of pursuing; whether it is a relationship, a job, a hobby etc. Do not back away and go forward with it. But not in a fiery way. Think thoroughly. Depending on what you want to pursue, you may need to make a plan first. A practical plan. After that, spirit gives you the green light to go forward!

12th house, neptune, taurus

thank you for reading <3

pile 4

You are a playful person. You like to have fun, at the same time pursue your goals. You may have fire placements in your chart because I sense a lot of fiery energy from you.

You may like partying or just having fun around. You like earthly pleasures and are not shameful about it. 

You wish to improve yourself. You may like self help books, philosophy or anything that will broaden your vision. 

You may sometimes try to run away from your emotions. You can even use a way of escapism like social media, partying, tw!substances etc. Balance is key pile 4, if you really struggle with escapism you may want to get help from a therapist.

You can achieve great success and build some sort of wealth in this lifetime. You have what it takes to do it. You are not afraid to go after what you want and stand tall. Your words may sometimes be sharp.

You may like to dance and even be a dancer. This is a confirmation if you were thinking about taking a dance class, go for it!

You may sometimes be too much in your head. Almost like an addiction despite your carefree attitude towards life.

You also have a gentle side to yourself. It is not up front but you still have it. You value the people in your life a lot. You probably show this gentle side of you to your loved ones.

People most likely find your eyes beautiful.

People may envy you a lot. While we all have struggles whether we show it or not; people are prone to think that you have it all. You may also have lots of admirers.

You may meet important people on your journey to success (like soul family, soulmate etc.)

Extra messages

Keep being you and do not be afraid! You have a lot to contribute to this world in your own unique way, pile 4. You may want to start meditating and listening to your emotions a little more. Hear what they are saying. 

1st house, virgo, uranus

thank you for reading <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Sticking Point 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: I'm moving tomorrow.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The tension turns roiling. Even in such airy halls, you cannot escape it, not that you venture very far from your rooms. It seems with each interaction, your relationship with your fiance only grows more fraught. You needn’t wonder why. It’s the very same reason your own father regards you with derision. You’re defective, less than what he hoped for. 

You sit in the window seat, looking over the greenery that reflects Jade Garden’s title. It’s a home anyone would covet and yet it feels as a penitentiary might. These walls are unyielding and the isolation suffocating. 

Your visions drifts into the distance as the leaves turn to green smears blending into the dimming blue of the sky. You close your eyes and turn your head straight, leaning against the wall as you hook your arms around your legs. 

A banquet. It’s less than a proper debut. You’re not certain anyone would be expecting you, or even know who you are. Will they be surprised when they hear your father’s name?  

There are things you know. Things you must ready yourself for. Certainly, there will be jeers, mocking whispers, and errant giggles. Just the same as anyone ever reacted to you. Even the farmhands would echo your speech and laugh bawdily. It hardly matter’s your a lord’s daughter when you sound so ridiculous. 

You hang your head and sigh. It isn’t just one banquet, it is the beginning of a lifetime of events. You will not only face this one night, but many anon. You will be the one they speak of behind their hands and the joke at the card tables. 

You stand, made restless by your dread. The window darkens with the evening’s arrival. Doreen raps at the door and leaves a tray of supper. You pick at it but don’t eat much. You must keep yourself busy so your mind is not. 

You go to your chests. You will need Doreen to unpack these soon. It’s as if the longer you leave them full, the less assured your fate. You might still strap them up and flee. 

You know that isn’t truly an option. 

You take out a gown the shade of cooked pumpkin with an overlay that lends it a bronzish hue. The bodice is trimmed with an eyelet effect and the hem of the cap sleeves and skirt finely threaded with beads. You lay it out on the chaise and find a pair of slippers to go with it and ribbon for your hair decorated with black onyx and brass. 

If Edith could see you then. It should be her in your place. That thought rings louder and louder, bolstered by the constant disapproval. 

You back away from your attire, spinning so you won’t have to look upon it. You never thought to miss home so much. Not your parents, you’re certain they hardly grieve your absence, but for the familiarity, for the simple walls and memories. Edith is there, even gone, you know you would see her in every cushion and every corner. 

You go to the door and listen. As silent as ever. You emerge into the corridor and make careful progress on the pads of your feet. You come to the top of the stairwell and peer down on the foyer. For all it’s beauty, this place is rather grim. 

You descend and let your eyes lead you. You take in every ornament, every statue, every door trim, and every tile of the floor. You want to know it all. You don’t want to feel so lost. 

You find your way along to the sunroom. Upon your approach, the door opens and you falter. A lithe figure emerges. You press yourself to the wall, unready for Loki’s appearance. He has a snifter of liquor in hand as he glowers in the light of a lantern in his other.  

He steps towards you and pauses, lifting the light higher to cast over you. His breath escapes him derisively. He lowers the lantern and sniffs. 

“Like a rat, you skitter incessantly,” he remarks. 

“My Lawd,” you push away from the wall and angle away from him. 

“I am speaking to you. Do not go until I give leave to,” he demands. 

You stop and face him again, hands meeting in apprehension. 

“This banquet business,” his nostrils flare, “I will not be humiliated. Not as you have tonight.” 

“My Lawd, I have been twained in etiq—etiqwette,” you insist. 

He scoffs, “your manners hardly bother me. Certainly you might have some grain of awareness.” 

You seal your lips. He’s said it plainly, as you have. He might be able to close his ears to your impediment but it is with you always. 

“Perhaps you might keep your words to a minimum,” he advises, “select them wisely.” 

You stare at him, cheeks fiery and eyes tinging, “If you would wather, I might make an excuse. A sudden malady, my lawd. I’d hate to stain your chawacter.” 

His eyes roll to the side and his features sharpen, “more would be said were I to appear without my betrothed after my mother’s promises.” 

That he has referred to your nuptials is not so nice as it should be. He speaks to it as a sentence. You look him in the face. 

“It won’t eva go away,” you say. 

“Hm, I only need get through the wedding night,” he retorts and you can’t help but wince. 

You swallow, your hurt turning bitter. “As do I.” 

His head tilts and he squints. He lets out another snort, “pardon?” 

“My sista would’ve hated you,” you whisper. “You did not desawve to know haw.” 

“Be wary,” he steps closer. 

“You make an enemy of me, not I you,” you lift your chin.  

He’s silent. He shifts even closer. So near, you have to keep from wilting away. You stare back at him defiantly, heart beating. 

“You do not know yet what it is to have me as an enemy so you best mind your mannaws,” he mocks your cadence with his last word. 

Your lip trembles as he green eyes sparkle like dark emeralds in the lantern lights. Your chest is a flurry of hurt and anger. What have you ever done to him, or anyone, to make them so spiteful? You swing your arm against his to knock the snifter from his hand, sending a splash of alcohol across the wall and and his vest. The smell is acrid and sour. 

You back away from him, horrified at your reaction. You have learned to restrain yourself, to tamp it all down, to swallow it with a smile and say nothing. In that moment, you simply cannot. You shake your head as your face twists in despair. 

“I would wather an enemy, saw,” you hiss, “as I would be ashamed to call a cad like you husband.” 

His glare flashes and he sways as if he might lunge at you. He rights himself and his brow arches. His lips draw and his cheeks pale. 

“Very well.” 

He spins on his heel and stomps away, the light limning his silhouette sinisterly. You stare after him mortified. What has come over you? You were never bold or brazen or brutal to any. Edith would be disappointed. A gentle soul like her could never even think a hot word. 

You fall back against the wall and clutch your hands over your chest. Is this to be your life? Are you to live in loathing, not only of that man but of yourself. To be castigated for the lilt of your own tongue, the very pulse of your existence? You’d thought your father a villain but this man has proven himself worse. 

Worst than his distaste is your own futility, for he has assured you there is nothing you might do to appease him. As he is bound to you most miserably, so are you vowed to the same fate. Not even in that might you commiserate. 

🔹

You sit in front of the mirror, holding the brooch over the table, feeling the embroidery with the pad of your thumb. You turn it over and back again. It’s the only piece of your sister you have left. Every day she feels further away from you. Every morning, you awake, expecting to hear her, to see her, and she is not there, and you are not at home. 

You peer up at your reflection as your hand hovers over the painted wood. You’ve not touched a tress or cheek. You must ready, you know it, but your reticence is like chains on your wrists. You know what you are to face but knowing cannot make it any less unpleasant. 

A knock comes at the door. You call for the maid to enter, thinking Doreen’s come to remind you again of your pending engagement. The maid opens the door but says nothing, letting in the duchess instead. Lady Frigga is almost rapturous in a dressing gown of peach fabric as her hair is set already in tight curls around an elegant chignon. You stand, apologising for your misstep. 

“Dear, it is quite forgivable,” she assures, “I only meant to look in on you before the banquet, to be certain you do not require anything, but darling, oh,” she sweeps towards you and cups your cheeks, “you’ve not even begun. What is the matter?” 

“There is no issue,” you lie, “I mewely let time escape me.” 

You smile and gently pull away, turning back to the vanity. You open your hand and once more consider the pin. 

“Is this the dress you mean to wear?” Frigga asks as she crosses the room in a swish of silk. You peer over your shoulder as she looks down on the orange fabric. “It is a rather keen shade.” 

“Yes, my lady,” you answer in a dulcet tone. You cannot find a glimmer of concern for your attire. 

She sighs and returns to you, holding the ribbon you’ve chosen, “these are far too dour,” she touches an onyx, “haven’t you some pearls?” 

“Somewhaw...” You bend your neck, staring at the bluebird, at Edith’s handiwork. You remember the day she gave it to you and the way she smiled so proudly. How she pinned it on you herself and made you go around and show all. 

“Oh, dear, that won’t go at all. It would be nice for a lunch, no doubt, but not for a banquet,” she remarks and you close your hand around the brooch. You put your shoulders straight and face her. 

“I have a pawl band in my chest,” you resign and step around her. 

You go to the chest and sift around, careful not to let the brooch slip from your grasp. You take out the pearls on the ivory band and show it to her. She tuts. 

“It won’t go with this gown,” she insists. 

“Yes, the onyx--” 

“Mmp, I prefer pearls. Darling, you must be your best. It is your first social appearance. I do not say this to demean you, only to assist. I know your own mother cannot be here to see you debut but I cannot imagine her pain at this moment. So much loss. Both daughters at once, in a way,” she bemoans. 

Yes, you think of your mother too. You know she won’t be well. Nor your father. All their hopes and dreams dashed in a deficient daughter sent to carry a legacy on with a spiteful husband who mightn’t even have the stomach to deliver one. 

“I vewy much appweciate it, lady,” you make yourself smile, “I suppose it must be nawvs.” 

“Suppose it must,” she hums, “how about you wear the orange gown and I fetch you a feather pin from my own collection? I have a fabulous ostrich and topaz piece,” she assures, “and some black lace gloves. Ooh, yes, dear, we will make certain all is perfect.” 

“Thank you, Lady Fwigga, but it isn’t necessawy--” 

“You are to be my daughter, of course it is,” she preens. “Besides, who shall notice anything but how splendid you look?” 

She twists on her heel and your smile dwindles. You know what is meant. What she will not state plainly. Perhaps a fine outfit might distract from your crooked consonants. You sit on the stool again and watch her go. 

Even those who are kind cannot help their thoughts. She mightn’t be cruel about it, but you can hear the disappointment in her pandering cooing. You are not the daughter she wanted just as you are not the wife her son wanted. Just as you do not want to be as you are. 

[lottins-only]

I love you, it's ruining my life | Part II

pairing: Kylian x black!fem!Reader

word count: 3.5k

Taglist: @kymb-10

A/N: Part one can be found here. thank you all who read, i really appreciate it <3 . Please comment under this post if you'd like to be tagged on future updates of this series. my inbox is open, and i would love to hear your thoughts or any feedback you have.

II. May 2017

The hot sun cast a golden glow over Monaco as Y/N stepped out of the sleek black car that had picked her up from the airport. After months of Kylian’s persistent invitations and her own growing curiosity, here she was. She had recently wrapped up her exams and high school as a whole while Kylian’s jam-packed season was winding down to a close, so it was the perfect time for a visit. 

Everything looked newer here, shinier. Even the girls in front of her at customs looked like they came straight out of a magazine, with their long shiny hair and designer clothing. Her uneasiness had only increased after that. She had always known that Monaco was the playground for the rich, but what she hadn’t quite wrapped her mind around was that Kylian was now one of them. They hadn’t seen each other for the better part of the 4 years since that winter Kylian traveled to Madrid and their lives had changed drastically since then. 

Most of their correspondence ever since he moved to Monaco consisted of text exchanges that were short, and that were mostly made up of “Hey, How are you?”s and “How’s school?”s. Once, she caught one of his matches by chance and texted him “You’re on TV!!” to which he’d replied a few hours later “Haha, did you watch the whole match?”, and the conversation had fizzled out quickly after that.  On the rare occasions he visited Paris, Kylian didn’t make much effort to see her.  She didn’t take it personally; between his charitable commitments, media appearances and family, he didn’t have much time to catch up with old friends. They had their run-ins, however, and those involved interactions so careful and hesitant it bordered on awkward. In short, their relationship was not what it was years ago. It was expected, of course. Lots of things change during those teen years. People change. Even Y/N had expected it a little. An additional layer she hadn’t accounted for was Kylian’s career. He was playing elite football every weekend and getting paid millions for it, while she was trying to stay afloat during exam season. Their lives were going in two very, very different directions.  Even so, she’d accepted his invitation to come see him in Monaco for the weekend. The truth was she missed him a lot.  

“Y/N!” She had been so busy admiring the sleek and modern house in front of her that she hadn’t noticed Kylian’s mother standing by the front door. She strode to Fayza and was quickly engulfed in a warm embrace. 

When they broke away, Kylian’s mother cupped her cheeks and regarded her with an adoring look. “Oh my, what a beautiful girl you’ve grown into”. Y/N blushed and looked at the ground. 

“Come on let’s get you inside” Fayza took her bag and led her inside the house. Kylian’s mom asked about her flight, and whether she was hungry. She had some of Fayza’s delicious food before getting settled inside the guest room. She knew Kylian was in training and would be for a couple more hours, so she took her time exploring the house. Memorabilia of Kylian’s young career was littered around the residence. She recognized his first ever football jersey, the number 2 of AS Bondy framed on the wall leading to the living room. 

 In the late afternoon, she was reunited with Ethan, who once bubbly and loud, had grown shy in her presence. Though It only took an hour or so for him to go back to his usual self. Before long, they had set up a board game on the carpeted living room floor. The little boy quickly lost his excitement over that, however, and so they abandoned the game and he loaded up FIFA on the TV while she scrolled aimlessly on her phone.  

At around 8 PM, the exhaustion from the day of traveling caught up to her and she felt her eyes struggling to stay open. She made her way to the guest room and after quickly changing into her pajamas was engulfed by sleep within minutes of her body falling on the mattress.

Later on, she was woken by a knock on the door. She stirred, disoriented and groggy from the unplanned nap. The knock came again, this time more insistent. Her heart skipped a beat as she scrambled out of bed, quickly smoothing down her rumpled clothes. 

She opened the door, and there he was. All the uneasiness melted away at the sight of him. 

“What’s with all the pink?” Kylian pointed at her pajamas. “You look like the pink panther”

She glanced down at her ensemble before grumbling a quiet “shut up” and standing aside to let him into the room. Secretly, she was glad that he’d opted to greet her with teasing, something that was essential to their old dynamic. 

Kyilan walked into the room and flung his body on the bed with a thud. Y/N laid down next to him more quietly. “Nice place you’ve got out here. It’s really big” she said, staring up at the ceiling. 

Kylian stretched his body out lazily, in typical teenage boy fashion. He smirked and replied “That’s what she said”

Y/N rolled her eyes, unable to help the smile on her face.  She shoved him slightly, trying to regain space on the bed. “How was training?”

“It was good” he responded. “Sorry I kept you waiting. Coach made us do more drills than usual, and then the recovery session ran late. I really, really hate cryotherapy, but it helps with injury prevention so I guess I shouldn’t complain…”

As he spoke, Y/N’s gaze involuntarily drifted down his frame. The first thing she noticed was that he had grown a couple more inches from the last time she saw him. His eyes were as big and brown, and in her humble opinion, as pretty as ever. He had grown into some of his features, yet his face was full of the youthful softness that she’d come to adore. His skin was tanner than usual, no doubt from the fact that he spent most of his days running around on a football pitch under the glaring sun. 

She had  also caught the glint of the expensive watch on his wrist, and the way he’d stood with a subtle sense of self-assuredness at the door. The sight had been both familiar and foreign, strangely. 

“Wait, I have a funny video to show you from training”. As he shifted to get his phone out of his pocket, the sleeves of his Nike T-shirt rolled up slightly to reveal more of his smooth golden brown skin and toned bicep. The muscle flexed deliciously as he moved. She tore eyes away reluctantly. Suddenly, she became conscious of their proximity on the bed, and how if one of them moved an inch closer their arms would be touching. 

The video showed Kylian and two of his friends in the hot tub gleefully tossing someone’s phone around while the owner of the phone sat watching anxiously. Y/N giggled at their antics, certain that it had been Kylian’s idea. 

 In the corner of her eyes, she saw Kylian glance away from the screen of his phone to appraise her.

 “You look different, you know”

Y/N looked down at herself self-consciously. She would have preferred to look more put together for their reunion, maybe without sleep-disheveled hair and clothes that weren’t hot pink pajamas. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, eyes now back on his phone. “I don’t know. You just look different”

She didn’t respond to that. She’d also experienced a growth spurt since the last time she saw him. She wondered if he studied her just as she’d studied him. Did he notice that she wore makeup now? Or the new signature perfume she’d adopted? Or, she thought, flushing, Did he notice she had boobs now?

Kylian stood up from the bed abruptly, knocking her out of her thoughts. He stretched out his arm for her and she took it. “Come, let’s go to the kitchen. I’m hungry”

She tried to ignore the warmth that spread through her at that contact. 

 

“So yeah, Amalfi was great” Isabelle said over the loud music.

Y/N nodded in what hopefully seemed an enthusiastic manner. She opened her mouth to respond but realized she had run out of things to say. The alcohol in her system seemed to have made the opposite of its intended effect; her social skills had been dulled. She turned her gaze to her cup and tried to think, but her head was spinning, albeit very slowly. It was her last night in Monaco and Kylian had taken her to a friend’s house party. She’d been introduced to some of his teammates and other friends. As the night went on, she’d found herself in the company of Isabelle, with Kylian nowhere to be found. Isabelle was apparently a friend of a friend of Kylian’s, having known him ever since he moved to Monaco. 

Y/N looked up from her cup to find Isabelle looking at her expectantly. 

A beat of excruciating silence ensued. 

“So how do you know Kylian again?” Isabelle mercifully asked.

“Oh, uh, we grew up together in Paris” Y/N responded gratefully. “Same neighborhood, same school. He’s much cooler now, except for the fact that he doesn’t have a driving license and doesn’t plan to get one. Like ever”

Isabelle let out a laugh. “Oh my god, tell me about it. That’s all Sophia ever complains about”

Y/N didn’t know who Sophia was, but she had her suspicions. Kylian had been texting on his phone on the dinner table so much the night before that his mother had scolded him. His eyes had been constantly drawn to his phone, his attention clearly divided between whatever was on it and the chatter of conversation between Y/N and the Mbappes. It hadn’t escaped the notice of Y/N and it had taken up more space in her mind than she’d liked, so much so that she’d stayed up in bed mulling it over.  Who else can it be, if not a girl?  She’d thought. 

She took a sip from her drink coolly. “Really?”

“Oh yeah, she wants a man that can drive her around. And I get it, you earn millions and you don’t want to get, like, a cool sports car? I’ve never met a guy like that”

Y/N stayed silent, waiting for her to add more. 

Isabelle leaned into her ear, and said in a hushed and conspiratorial tone, “But between you and me, she’s said that he’s really good in the bedroom. Like, he gets her there all the time, you know what I mean?”

Y/N winced at the strong alcohol breath coming out of Isabelle’s mouth. 

She leaned away and gave an exaggerated wink, as if she hadn’t laid everything out plainly. 

Their conversation shifted to other topics and Y/N’s mind wandered. She was glad she had found confirmation of what she already knew from someone else, because now she could control her reaction when he told her, if he planned to tell her. She felt a pang in her heart at the fact that they’d grown apart so much that Kylian had failed to mention a girlfriend to her. Maybe he thought it was a detail she wouldn’t care for. He’d updated her on practically every aspect of his life but this when they’d spoken yesterday. She cared, of course. So much so that she was contemplating how she’d react when she eventually found out. Would she be teasing, or nonchalant? Whatever it was going to be, she needed to be the picture of indifference. 

Maybe it was the information she’d just received, or the alcohol she wasn’t used to consuming, but she felt her stomach rolling. Isabelle, bless her, pointed her in the direction of the bathroom. Unfortunately, it was occupied. Deciding to try the upstairs bathroom, she hurried to the stairs and climbed the steps two at a time.  She was desperate to find a room to take a respite. 

The hallways of the second floor were completely empty. She tried opening several doors, but they were locked. She spotted a final door at the end of the hall. She walked over and turned the handle. To her immense relief, the door swung open easily. 

She immediately stopped in her tracks at what she saw in front of her. Kylian was sprawled on a sofa, his head lying on the lap of a girl. She was leaning down, her long blonde hair a curtain around them. She was caressing his forehead, and he was looking up at her, murmuring something Y/N couldn’t hear.  

Their heads snapped up as soon as they heard the door open, breaking the intimate spell. 

“I was looking for the bathroom” Y/N let out. She could feel the bile rising up to her throat. She quickly turned and walked away before they had a chance to respond. 

A woman walking towards her saw the panicked look on her face and pointed her to the bathroom. An unoccupied one, finally. Everything she had consumed throughout the day immediately left her body as soon as she saw the open toilet bowl. She retched and retched, feeling the scratch on her throat. Afterwards, she looked at herself in the mirror and cringed. Her mascara was running down her face, and her curls had turned extremely frizzy. She did her best to fix both her makeup and her hair before leaving the bathroom.

She found Kylian sitting on the stairs. He looked up at her, concern clearly written in his deep brown eyes. Her heart swelled at the sight. My sweet Kylian, she thought. 

“Are you okay?” He asked as she sat beside him.

“My tummy wasn’t great for a while there, but all good now!” She chirped.

“Oh, ok. I’m glad. I-”

“So, you have a girlfriend now, huh?” she said, before he could make any more comments about her state.

He rolled his eyes at her and smiled. “What? Is that hard to believe?” 

“No,not at all” She said. “ I mean, I don’t see how she can see past your coconut shaped head, but that’s just me”

He gave her a shove in response, and she giggled.

“Soo…?” She looked at him expectantly. 

“Her name is Sophia. We met through one of my buddies at Clairefontaine. And we’re not dating dating, we’re just…” He trailed off, avoiding her gaze. 

“Hooking up?”

“Yeah” he said sheepishly. “But its not all there is to it. It’s complicated”

“How long?”

“Like, 3 months?” he shrugged. “We’ve been talking for longer than that, though”

There was a brief pause as she processed the information. 

“That’s nice… I’m glad you’re... having fun, I guess” She measured her words. 

He hesitated, then added “Actually, there’s something else I haven’t mentioned yet”

What now? She thought bitterly. 

“I’m moving back to Paris” he revealed. “To play for PSG”

Her eyes widened. She had been vaguely aware that there were football transfer rumors surrounding Kylian that summer, but she hadn’t paid much attention to them.

“And, uh, I was really hoping we could hang out and stuff. Like old times” he continued “I miss you, you know. I wish we’d stayed in touch more” 

He had a hopeful look on his face, which made what she was about to tell him even harder. 

“Congrats, Kyks” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “But you should know, I’m also gonna be moving. To the US for university.”

Kylian looked at her, clearly surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, to John Hopkins to study biomedical engineering” She looked at her lap shyly.

Kylian let out a joyous laugh, and her heart swelled at the sight of his dimples. “I don’t know what that even means but I’m so proud of you”

“ I’m really proud of you too, Kylian”

She felt a twinge of sadness that she wouldn’t be there for the next chapter of his career, but she was excited for him. This was the natural next step for him. 

They held eye contact for a few seconds. Once again, their lives were changing. Who knew what kind of relationship they’d have in a year’s time. All she knew was that she wanted him in her life, no matter what. She could see the same realization in  Kylian’s eyes. 

“Even if you’re not in Paris,” he said. “I want to stay friends. I want you to be in my life.”

She nodded, trying to stop her eyes from welling up with tears. 

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, and Y/N was reminded of the times they spent in silence when they were younger, with unspoken understanding and easy companionship flowing between them. The days when they’d be sat in her room, her by her desk doing her homework and him on the floor flipping through his Manga. Her mother would bring them some snacks and would deliberately leave the door open as she left, her way of keeping a watchful eye on them, much to the embarrassment of Y/N. For her part, she would relish the times when Kylian was so absorbed by whatever was in front of him that she’d be able to take long, furtive glances and drink in  his long eyelashes, or the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Did you really think I’d hide a whole girlfriend from you?” his voice brought her out of her reverie. 

“Well, it turns out you were hiding an entire situationship from me” She pointed out. 

“I don’t know how to talk to you about these things, to be honest” Kylian said awkwardly.

She understood. She hadn’t told him about  what little developments there were in her romantic life, either. She didn’t know how that would go. 

She scooted closer to him. “Ok. From now on, let's talk about these things. No matter how weird it feels. Pinky promise”

She held out her pinky finger, and he wrapped his around it with a smile on his face. 

“Can I ask why it's complicated? You looked really comfortable with her back there” She regretted asking the question as soon as it came out of her mouth. 

“I don’t know” He paused, clearly thinking about his answer “ I think maybe it’s my trust issues. People here know me as Kylian Mbappe, number 29 for Monaco. They don’t know me like you do. Plus, I don’t think I would even have time for a serious relationship. And I’m not stringing her along either, if you were thinking that. We’ve talked about it openly  ”

Y/N felt strangely reassured by that. 

“And maybe..." he paused, contemplating his next words. "Maybe things would be different if you were here”

His eyes held an intense look, as if trying to convey something his lips couldn’t and wouldn’t dare to.

Her breath caught in her throat.  Before she could say something in response, Kylian’s phone rang out. It was his driver, here to pick them up. Kylian had training early the next day, and disciplined as he was, made sure to set a curfew for himself. They left the party immediately, the conversation discarded just like that. 

In the car, Y/N’s mind ran through the contents of the evening. She was glad that Kylian made no effort to introduce her to Sophia. She didn’t know if she could keep up the pretense of indifference if she saw them together again. Whenever her mind went to the scene she’d found them in the bedroom, something in her deflated. It would have hurt less if she’d caught them in bed doing the deed, she later decided. She could still see it in her mind; how relaxed he looked with his head on her lap, how their faces were so close together. Girlfriend or not, it was clear they had casual intimacy Y/N  thought he’d never have with anyone else besides her. 

Pretty early on in their friendship, Y/N had made peace with the fact that she would be sharing her best friend with the rest of the world. She had always known he was destined for greatness, and that he would be loved by many. But deep down, she always believed that there wouldn’t be anyone that would love him the same way she did, that had access to him like she did, and that knew him the way she did. She hadn’t realized it, but she’d come to Monaco with a fantasy in her mind that all of a sudden he’d look at her differently, that he’d finally see her the way she did him. How wrong she was.  It was idiotic of her to assume that someone like him would stay single or celibate. He was a good looking 18 year old millionaire with more charisma than most grown men. All he’d have to do was flash those dimples to get any girl he wanted. 

Then, there was the part from the evening that lingered with her the most. Maybe things would be different, if you were here. Y/N’s mind whirled. 

When they got home, Y/N sat with her laptop open in the guest room. What Isabelle said had also stuck with her. On Google, she typed Is female orgasm common?

She clicked the top result and skimmed the article until she found her answer:  More than 90% of men usually experience orgasm in their intercourse; among women, this proportion is only around 50%.

Well, what a lucky girl Sophia was. Y/N shut her laptop angrily.

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Grandpa Ackles

Summary: Y/n was enjoying her husband’s new style post Supernatural, that is until a certain pair of glasses come onto the scene. How will Jensen feel about her teasing? 

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1.7K+

Warnings: Language, age gap (implied), unprotected sex (don’t be silly..)

Author’s Note: This baby was born from a little razzing session I had with @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons regarding those glasses Jensen wore. It quickly turned into this mess that I forgot about in my drafts. I hope you enjoy it. As always I would love to hear your feedback xoxo Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The love and support of the Supernatural fandom had been the spark that helped Jensen to come out of his shell. From singing at conventions to releasing his album and everything in between. He was far more at ease now than he had been back in 2005. But the truth was she hadn’t seen him blossom more than since the series finally wrapped. From getting to grow out his hair and the relentless press junket for The Boys, he’s been getting to show off his creativity and style like never before. Most of the time she was behind him all the way, but today’s choice had her questioning the man she had married. 

They were currently on set with Entertainment Weekly doing yet another interview. Y/n had followed her husband across Europe and now Los Angeles to support him in his recent endeavor. Now she found herself standing behind the cluster of monitors that showed each camera angle. Naturally, she was focused on Jensen, but not for the reason one would expect. 

It was like a train wreck, something she couldn’t look away from no matter how hard she tried. Her husband had first slipped the blue-tinted glasses onto his perfect face when they were about to walk out of the dressing room. At first, she had thought they were sunglasses and she was rightfully confused about him putting them on at that moment, but he walked right onto the set with them still in place and that’s when it hit her. They were a statement piece for his outfit. 

God, she loved her husband but she was seriously questioning his choices. The black-framed glasses were ever so slightly to big for his face. The lens appeared prescription strength in the way that they distorted his eyes to appear larger than reality. Sure, he wore reading glasses periodically at home but never had they made it into any sort of interview or red carpet before. Though he wouldn’t admit it to her, she knew it made him self-conscious about his age, especially considering the difference between them. So she would tell him how much she loved them, which wasn’t even the tiniest bit of a lie. Those glasses framed his face well and made him look refined. These on the other hand, well, as much as she tried to love them, it simply wasn’t happening. 

The interview lasted roughly an hour before they were back in his dressing room to pack up their things. Once he had cleared out the dressing room they hopped into a car to take them back to their hotel. Y/n waited with bated breath for him to remove the glasses, but he never so much as acknowledged them. Jensen conversed politely with her until they made it back to their suite. She plopped down onto the edge of the bed, watching him as he began to unpack his bag from the day. 

“Are you going to tell me why you keep looking at me like that?” He questioned finally, his one eyebrow quirking at her. 

“I-” Y/n chewed on the corner of her lip while she tried to find the words. “What is with the glasses?” 

“What do you mean?” Jensen crossed his eyes, playfully attempting to look at the specs without taking them off.

“Did you lose a bet…” her words trailed off, earning her a frown from her husband. 

“You don’t like my glasses.” It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t… not like them,” she tried with a smile but her husband knew her better than that. Jensen crossed his arms with a warning look, asking her to tell the truth. “Okay fine, they look like a bad 70’s accessory. I’m sorry, baby, but they are not it.” 

“These are Gucci,” he defended. Y/n hid her mouth behind her fingers, stifling a smile at his knee-jerk reaction to her opinion.

“I know this, and I love you, but just because you are playing, as you call him, a grandpa, doesn’t mean you need to dress like one.” Y/n made air quotes with her fingers as she talked. She knew she was digging herself a hole but damn it if she couldn’t stop talking. 

“Whatever, I need to change,” he scoffed as he began undoing the buttons on his shirt. The blatant roll of his eyes told her he was over this conversation but that didn’t stop what slipped out next. 

Y/n cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, “Start with the glasses.”

Jensen froze, his eyes narrowing at his wife. She smiled at him, her tongue peeking out between her teeth. Before she could blink he darted towards her, his arms encompassing her as he tackled her into the bed.  A shriek left her mouth as the couple barreled into the plush furniture, quickly dissolving into giggles as he pinned her to the mattress.

“Careful, Jay, don’t need you breaking a hip.” Her words came out between snickers. She was quick to realize how worked up she had gotten him. 

“Funny, you weren’t saying that two days ago,” Jensen encompassed her with his form, one hand on either side of where her head lay. 

“Guess that was before I realized how close you might be to needing help from a little blue pill…” She let the words hang in the air, watching her husband’s jaw drop. 

“You gonna regret that,” he mumbled, dropping his voice as he cocked his head. 

“Promise?” Y/n bit her lip, a final challenge before Jensen dove in, capturing her lips with his own. Immediately she melted into the comforter, her hands moving to finish his job of undoing his top. Her work was distracted as the actor trailed his pillow-soft lips down her jaw and neck, using his tongue to suck the tender flesh into his mouth. A moan fell from her lips as he nipped her collarbone, the action egging him on. When she finally popped the last button, she hurriedly pushed the thin fabric from his shoulders. 

Jensen sat back on his legs, working open his belt and jeans as Y/n lifted her dress over her head. He let out a low whistle, letting his eyes roam down the expanse of her body, now just in a pair of panties. 

“I’m waiting, Grandpa,” she smirked, raising her arms above her head to emphasize her breasts for him. 

“Damnit woman,” he grunted, now in a hurry to rid them both of their offending bottoms. Once they were both exposed to the other, Jensen leaned back over her, again capturing her lips with his own in a heated kiss. He sucked her lower lip between his teeth as his hands ran down her curves. The action set her nerves aflame, warmth amalgamating low in her belly. 

In a second, his warmth was gone, and his large hands were flipping her onto her stomach. She rose to her hands and knees without a second thought, knowing that Jensen was not going to do her the courtesy of prepping her for him. The woman got no warning before her husband entered her from behind, his cock stretching her in every delicious and agonizing way. Her chin dropped to her chest as he set a grievously slow pace where she could feel every inch of him. 

“Fuck, Jay. Faster, please?” The words were a breathy plea on her lips. 

“What was that, baby?”

“I need more,” she reiterated. Jensen ran his fingers through her hair before gently tugging on the strands, pulling her frame up and flush against his own. His arms wrapped around her torso, the new muscles she loved so much dwarfing her body as he drove into her, faster with every thrust. His grunts were low, but deafening from their proximity to her. The sound was like music to her ears, each one helping to push her closer to the edge of oblivion. 

“Look at you, so wrecked from taking me like a good girl,” Jensen breathed out, his praises earning a whimper from his lover. “Do you think you deserve to come?” 

“Oh, fuck.” It was the only thing her brain could formulate at the moment. She knew this was a torture of her own creation. Y/n had pushed him to prove himself, knowing full well what would come of it, and damn it if she wasn’t regretting that now. The thing was he absolutely would deny her if she didn’t grovel. And it wouldn’t be the first time either. 

“I can’t hear you.”

“Nobody can fuck me like you. My body is yours.” It was the truth and had been since that first night together so many years ago. He had thoroughly ruined her for anyone else and still to this day proves that he knows her body better than herself. “I can’t come without you.” 

“It’s a start,” he murmured, his game punctuated with every thrust of his hips. His left hand traveled up to her throat, applying light pressure just above her collarbone. 

“Please.” She was nowhere near above begging him for release. 

“Since you asked nicely,” Jensen finally relented, using his opposite hand to press against her clit. The combination of sensations sent her over the cliff like a switch had been flipped. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the overwhelming sensations he continued to deliver until he too finished, rutting against her as he spilled himself inside her. 

His grip against her loosened and he let her back against the hotel comforter, taking care to keep her steady on her trembling legs. Y/n rolled over onto her back, staring blankly at the ceiling as her breathing evened out. Her husband joined her, resting his head against her stomach. Mindlessly her fingers came down to run through his long blonde locks. 

“Still think I need the blue pill?” He asked and she could feel him smile against her abdomen. 

“Fuck you,” she huffed out a laugh. 

“I think you just did.”

“Ugh, fine, you win this one, Ackles,” Y/n playfully pushed her husband from her side. “But next, time don’t expect me to cave so easily.”

“Oh?” One of his eyebrows shot up on his forehead and immediately she regretted her words. The actor was on her before she had a chance to blink, ready to prove himself as many times as it would take. 

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