#I just can’t help but picture them sneaking in so many different kisses

[saltpepperbeard]

so you know how taika and rhys were determined to have as many touches in season 1 as they could muster

what if

what if they up the ante as ed and stede’s relationship grows. what if they maintain that same energy, but use it for random hugs and kisses

WHAT THEN.

[supercutszns]

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

[taschamonnii]

Often - In Secret

You x Thérèse (In Secret - Elizabeth Olsen) 

Angst/Smut

Summary: In secret except GAY AF! No actual murder of Camille or stupid suicides! That movie is entertaining but fuck that plot. I just envision so much better! Thérèse is so GAY she is Horny and desperate for more than the life she was dealt. You are just the person to rescue her. I give you a character to play here, not just y/n. 

TW: SMUT, 18+, Filthy, Cheating on husbands to be GAY together, 

Here is the title song: Often By Lauren Sanderson

Read On Ao3

AN: You know something about cheating on men to be GAY is so satisfying especially when the man is your cousin! YUCK. I know it was 1860 but like yuck! She had to take care of his sick ass her entire childhood. She was robbed! This is a fix it fic because the movie's plot sucks she literally lives such a shit life the entire time really then dies with an asshole like wtf.

Word Count: 10,821 & 25 Pages!!

Imagine This:

1860 Paris

Thérèse lives a hopelessly mundane routine life in the countryside near Paris. Her sickly cousin Camille requires constant care. Unfortunately, the job of caregiver has been forced onto Thérèse. Her father left her under the care of her domineering aunt. Left as a small girl, Thérèse has grown up sheltered and repressed. Her days consist of keeping quiet and taking care of her cousin. When she gets the chance she escapes on walks and daydreams. She wanders and finds herself in her favourite hidden spot where she can see the hillside across the river. She loves this spot for many reasons but her favourite just happens to be the couples who often sneak off to the otherside for romantic picnics. 

Her favourite couple is there today as she sneakily crawls in the tall grass on her side of the river. She watches as the man with short dark hair unbuttons his shirt. Her eyes are glued to the sight and she can’t help but lick her lips. The girl has long blonde ringlets that fall on her bare shoulders as he undoes her blouse. Thérèse watches wide green eyes and brown hair falling in a mess around her as she presses her hips into her bunched up dress. Her clit throbs watching the couple kiss. The woman's skin looks impossibly soft and his muscles seem to glisten in the sun and she can’t help her mind. She wonders what it must feel like to be each of them. She imagines kissing and touching and her hips move against her dress as a deep desire to gain friction sets in as it often does here. The couple seems to be in a rush today and she struggles to reach her own satisfaction. They finish before her and she sighs in frustration. She closes her eyes and tries to picture them but it doesn’t help. She is about to give up and head back home until she sees two girls across the way. They lay out a blanket and look around. Her curiosity is peaked as she watches them carefully not to be seen. She has never seen two girls use the spot.

Her jaw drops as they lean in and kiss. The way they kiss is so different from the way the others kiss. It is languid and so soft. She feels a heat rush to her lower abdomen. They keep their clothes fully on but somehow it is hotter than any scene she has witnessed here before. Her hips began to thrust against her bunched up dress once again out of her own control. The girl with brown hair starts kissing down the red heads neck and Thérèse shivers at the thought. The brunette then moves a hand to cup the redheads breast over the fabric of her dress and the girl throws her head back in a soft moan. Thérèse watches mouth open and soft hot breaths fall from her lips as she thrusts and grinds against her dress. She watches in awe as the brunette’s hand travels under the many layers of the others’ dress. She can’t see exactly what the girl is doing but she can see that the redhead is enjoying it. She grinds harder and faster and finally feels the release she was building to. She sighs and watches as the girls continue to softly kiss and touch. Now the redhead has got her head under the others’ dress. Thérèse swallows hard as she watches the brunette's reactions. She desperately wants to know what is happening under that dress. When she thinks about the possibilities she squeezes her legs shut and feels a shiver run up her back. She can’t stop herself and curiously changes her position just enough to lay on her side. She moves her own hand down and under the layers of fabric that make up her dress and undergarments. She slips her slender fingers past the tie that holds her trousers on and past the soft curls. Her skin is so hot and wet as she presses her middle finger against her throbbing swollen clit. She rubs slowly and tests different pressures. She adds a second finger and rubs in circles around the sensitive skin and it feels so good. She watches the girls and rubs her clit. She has to bite her bottom lip to suppress the sounds that threaten to escape her throat. She’s never felt this good. As she reaches release she can feel her body contract harder than ever and it makes her legs flex. 

She has to lay in the grass for a moment after to catch her breath. 

She has been a good obedient girl all this time. Barely getting sweet moments to herself. News of her fathers death brings change. Madame Raquin informs her that she has no options. She is forced to marry her cousin Camille and they move to Paris so he can get a job and they can open a fabric shop. 

Although the change of scenery and friends are interesting, Thérèse still finds her life sad and boring. Camille doesn’t kiss her the way the couples on the hill side kiss. He coughs during his sad attempt at sex and she just lays there. She is miserable and lonely. Until one day Camille brings you home for dominos night. 

Your name is Lauren LeClaire and you have this androgynous sort of look about you. Your dress is not puffed out but slim and fitting to you. You refuse to wear those ridiculous hoops. The top looks more like a suit than a dress which you tailored to your body. The top-hat you wear is odd to say the least. (Anne Lister vibes)

You have dark black hair and dark mysterious brown eyes that seem to look right through Thérèse. She can’t help but stare at you. She decides instantly she needs to hate you because you are far too alluring. You look at her like you are hungry like you have secret thoughts. Because you do. The moment your gaze fell on the quiet girl you knew you needed to break her out of her shell. 

It was more than that though you could see the way she looked at you she had secrets and you could read her body. It was obvious how desperately she craved pleasure and you were determined to be the one to give it to her. 

Each time you play dominos you make sure to brush past her at every opportunity. It is beyond satisfying to hear her take a sharp inhale of breath or shudder as you invade her space. You love seeing her cheeks tint a shade of pink that just makes her skin look more irresistible. 

You are lucky your friendship with Camille and Madame Raquin allows you to be over at their place more and more frequently. From the little interactions with Thérès you know she is desperate for each little moment. 

You offer to paint Camille and struggle to concentrate on him as Thérèse sits in your view watching with those intense emerald eyes.

 Camille sits in front of you  “I’ve tried but just can’t imagine it.”

“What?” 

“Standing there with a palette and brush in hand while a woman takes off her clothes.”

“Can’t you?”

“I wouldn’t know where to look.”

“There are dozens of places.”

“My hands would shake. It’s different for you, you are a woman.”

“It isn’t different at all. I paint all bodies, women and men. I appreciate the beauty of all human beings.”

“I’d be hypnotised.”

“Have you not seen a woman?” 

Your curiosity gets the better of you and you can’t stop your gaze from falling onto Thérèse. Her emerald eyes are watching you carefully. You want desperately to know how much intimacy they have shared. 

“Bare?” 

You nod yes.

“No. Why would I? How do you manage to paint it all?”

“Well you are married, Camille. You don’t just look at the body, you listen to it. The body speaks especially when the model also gets hypnotised.”

You don’t miss the way Thérèse softly gasps.

Camille laughs and imitates what he thinks the body may say “I have to go wee.”

Thérèse looks between you and Camille, quiet and observant as always.

“Yeah, maybe. The body says other things.”

“Love me, I suppose.”

“The first model I ever painted was a beautiful redhead. Naturally red, as I quickly discovered. The only hitch was this beautiful creature was deaf as a brick. I couldn’t call out the adjustments I wanted, I had to mould her, like a sculpture.”

You watch as Thérèse visibly swallows.

“One afternoon, I wanted her legs a bit wider. So I went to move her knees apart, but on a feeling I touched the inside of her thigh with the tip of my brush. Where the skin is soft and smooth as cream and warm.”

You watch as your words affect Thérèse. Her lips part and she licks her lips. She bats her long lashes rapidly. You can hear Thérèse take a shaky breath and want nothing more than to feel her lips tremble against your own, her shaky breath playing on your skin. You bite your bottom lip at the thought. 

“The lightest touch of my brush.”

“Did she make the move you were after?”

You catch her staring at your hand as you paint and Thérèse looks down away from you in an instant. 

“She did.”

“And what was her body saying to you then?”

“Brush me again.”

Thérèse gasps and her eyes wander the room almost like she can’t catch her breath. You watch with a smirk. She is in a bit of a panic like her thoughts were too much for the moment. She scrunches up her nose like she’s thinking trying to come back to reality.

“Alright time for the big reveal, get your mother.” 

Camille did as he was told, happily rushing down the stairs to find his mother leaving you alone with Thérèse. “Do you know what your body says to me, Thérèse?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “It says touch me, kiss me, take me.”

Her jaw fell a little with each word and you wanted so desperately to brush your thumb over her plump and pink bottom lip. “You desire pleasure. I desire to pleasure you.” 

Before she can speak you can hear the creak of the stairs as Camille and Madame Raquin approach and you place your index finger over your lips. A smirk forms on your lips. You share a secret now and you can see the effect it has on her. You straighten up as Camille and Madame Raquin enter the room. Thérèse stands and they wait. 

You turn the canvas and stand slowly revealing the dark painting of Camille. You enjoy watching their different reactions to the painting. Camille is so happy and it makes you happy to see. He is so innocent and ignorant. It is funny to watch Madame Raquin look at the painting with a furrowed brow. You can tell it unsettles her. There is a reason of course you went for a dark version of your friend because this place is dark suffocating. Watching the way Camille and Madame Raquin demand things from Thérèse is suffocating. It’s in the air. 

“Isn’t it distinguished?”

Madame scoffs, “It doesn’t resemble you, it's blue and so grey.”

“It resembles my soul, mother.”

Madame looks at you, “Oh, is that what you were after?”

“I paint what I see Madame.”

Camille is thrilled and your answer seems to make Madame smile as well. The bell downstairs rings and Madame moves to leave but Camille stops her. “Let me go out and get a bottle of champagne to celebrate.”

“Yes!”

“No two bottles!”

“Yes, yes!”

You stop paying them any attention as they ramble in happiness. Your gaze falls to Thérèse. She ponders the painting with her fingers pressed to her lips. 

Madame and Camille run off and you pay them little mind as you watch Thérèse.

“Do you like it?”

“You said you couldn’t paint.” 

You stare at Thérèse gaze wandering her entire body, eyes lidded. Her body speaks to you. One of her arms is crossed over her body supporting her other elbow as she rubs her pink lips with her fingers and touches her chin. 

The words escape your lips softly, “Unbutton your blouse.”

Her body and gaze turn to yours, her lips parted ever so slightly. Her hand moves away from her lips. She is not shocked by your words. She is not put off by them either. No, she is entranced by them. She wants to do it. She has been dying to do it.

“We don’t have time.”

Your lips fall apart in awe of her. You have never felt the heat pool so low so quickly before and it takes all your strength to keep yourself from melting into a puddle at her feet. She wants you and you want her and the room feels intense and thick with desire. There is a magnetic force between you and it is impossible to withstand. 

As she looks at you and you look at her the magnet wins and her hands fly to the buttons of her blouse as she holds your stare. Her body turns more fully facing you and you make quick strides to stand before her. The anticipation written on her face for what you will do is breathtaking. Her red lips are parted and her breath is quick as she continues to unbutton her blouse in a rush. As you close the gap you grab her waist with one hand and slide one hand from her cheek to her jaw and neck and pull her in as you part your lips. As you close your eyes you see her lips part for you her head tilt into the embrace and you let yourself fall apart as your lips collide with hers. Your tongue just pokes out enough to help you suck on her upper lip. She leans her entire body into you as she manages to match your slow but passionate kisses. Your breath is hot and mixing with hers and she tastes divine. Her lips move against yours fitting perfectly as you both change angles. 

You can’t stop yourself, your hands have minds of their own and you move one hand around her lower back to support her as your other falls to her open blouse. You pull the fabric away from her and relish at the sight of her pale skin. Your lips quickly find purchase on her exposed cleavage. You kiss and bite and suck the soft warm skin and breathe her in deeply. She smells so sweet. Her lips brush against your neck at the strained angle as she breathes hot and heavy against your skin. She begins to pant as you bite harder.

“Ah”

“Am I hurting you?”

A breathless “Yes” falls from her lips.

“Oh Ah” 

She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth slowly releasing it. As more soft sounds leave her.

The sounds that leave her parted lips have your knees feeling weak. You squeeze her clothed breast in your hand as you continue to bite and suck the exposed skin. She leans back her grip on your waist tightening.

“Don’t moan.”

She gasps for air trying to silence her pleasure and it is earth shattering to hear her against your ear. To feel her panting against your neck trying not to make a sound. One of her hands grabs at your shoulder and back trying desperately to hold on. You turn her, lifting her into your arms by her waist and kiss her lips once more. Her hands fly into your hair and grip at the back of your neck. You quickly move her back against the wall of windows and slowly bring her down onto the bench she had been sitting on earlier. Your lips still slotted together in wet hot kisses. 

As you set her down she parts from your lips and looks out the windows that lead to the stairs of the apartment. You attach yourself to her neck and press yourself hard between her legs. One hand on her outer thigh pushing the layers of dress up. Her hands pull your face back to hers and she kisses you hard biting your bottom lip. 

You gasp and she slides her tongue over your lips and into your mouth you suck lightly on her tongue and her hips buck up into yours. She grinds her hips against your clothed abdomen without resolve chasing sweet friction. Your kisses become a messy mix of teeth and tongue. She is lost in the feeling and can’t stop herself from chasing that familiar release. You part from her lips as her body shudders against you and you watch helplessly as she comes undone in your arms. Her tightly shut eyes, the crease in her forehead, her lips parted in almost a painful expression, teeth shown to you as her nose scrunches and a moan leaves her lips barely audible. She is breathtaking. You need more, you need to see her lose herself again and again.

You are seconds away from moving your hand between her legs when the bell clangs downstairs.

You quickly stand and straighten yourself as she quickly buttons her blouse and flattens out her dress. 

“Tomorrow at noon,“ you whisper, “during my lunch I must see you.”

She nods and points to a door and you make a quick note of the side door and nod your understanding. You both manage to look composed as Camille and Madame Raquin return. 

>>>>

The next day is agonisingly slow. Each click of the clock builds anticipation.

When you are finally walking down the side path to the shop your body is buzzing. She lets you in with a giddy energy about her and pulls you into the doorway pinning you against the wall instantly kissing you like you never stopped your kisses from the day before. She quickly moves you away from the wall and to the bench. You sit but before she can lower herself into the position you were in yesterday between your legs you stop her. You grab at her waist and she looks down at you curiously. You move a hand down and under the layers of her dress. You take her leg in your hand and make her place a foot on the bench beside you. This opens her legs to you and you make a quick effort to do what you wanted to yesterday. Your hand travels between her legs and she watches from above with parted lips breathing heavily already. You move your other hand under the dress as well.

“Unbutton your blouse.”

She quickly does as she is told and then rests her hands on your shoulders. You take both your hands to her waist under the dress and find the band to her trousers and pull them down. You hold her hip in one hand and slide your fingers through soft curls and into wet heat. She leans over you at the first touch, grip on your shoulder tightening. You softly explore and spread her slick heat over her lips before applying pressure to her clit. She gasps for air at the direct pressure. You slide two fingers up and down and watch how it drives her crazy. She bites her bottom lip as she stares down at you, her eyes a darker shade of green. She feels so warm and soft in your hands. You want her to show you what she likes. Her using your body yesterday to get the pleasure she desired had you so wet. 

“Show me where.”

She pushes herself more upright and grabs her dress in each hand as she moves her hips forcing your fingers to slide against her. She lifts herself up slightly and your fingers press to her entrance. She slowly moves to envelop your fingers inside her. You can feel the stretch around you. She is so tight and wet it has your own hips pressing into the bench below you clit throbbing. She begins to slowly move her hips again leaning over you and grabbing at your shoulder as she breathes out.

You press your fingers inside her against the spot that drives all women mad.

“Show me, there?”

You curl your fingers “there?” You smile as her eyes shut tight and she makes that face you are becoming addicted to “right there?”

She leans over you more and has to put a hand on the wall behind you to keep from falling over you. You repeat your motions until you can’t her walls clench and contract around you. Quiet moans leave her lips and you feel your own walls contract around nothing just at the sight, sounds and feel of Thérèse cuming on your fingers. 

Her hips slow and she shudders as you slowly slide out of her. You find her trousers and pull them back up her legs and remove your hands from under her dress. She remains leaning for a moment before standing upright once again. She then falls to her knees in front of you and leans in to kiss your lips. She presses herself between your legs hard, pressing as close as she can. You match her kisses and bite her bottom lip. She pulls back and her gaze travels your body she leans back a bit and takes her palm down your chest and abdomen still fully clothed and down in between your legs. She presses her palm down hard against you and it relieves the throb in your clit. She moves it up and down against you and you are far too close to the edge because that is all it takes for you to throw your head back in pure bliss. She continues her motion after your back arches and you have to grab her hand to stop her.

“Thérèse.”

She bites her bottom lip and leans in to kiss your lips once again. “I want more.”

“Me too. I want to taste you. I want to see you, all of you.”

She shudders at your words with a sharp intake of breath.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Don’t be late!”

You nod as you stand and pull her up with you. She rushes to kiss you and her kiss is desperately asking you to keep your promise. You kiss her and squeeze her entire body closer by her waist. You can feel her smile against your lips and it makes you smile even as you pull away. She rushes you and pecks your lips once more before pulling away fully. 

>>>>

The next time she opens the door for you she is in her corset and her slip. Her brown hair is down in loose waves. It's longer than you thought and you can’t wait to have your hands in it. Her appearance catches you off guard and you pause for a moment. You drink her in but she is impatient and rushes to kiss you in the doorway. It’s quick and before you know it she has pulled you through the door and pushed you against the wall. Her lips are hungry for you. Her hands pull at your clothes and then she is gone in an instant around the corner you follow as she flops down onto her bed.

“Your marriage bed? Madame could come up here at any minute.”

She rolls from her flopped position with a smile.

“Oh, she wouldn’t dream of leaving the shop. Besides, I have a terrible headache and I need to rest.”

She makes a show of rolling on the bed and you bite your bottom lip and rub your fingers over it as you watch her.

She looks at you and smiles “You’re afraid.”  

Your hands drop and you take a step closer to the end of the bed and she laughs. She gets on her knees and crawls to the edge of the bed with a teasing smile. You laugh softly. 

“I can’t believe you’re the same lifeless girl that always sat in the corner.”

You step up to the bed and she lays her hand on your chest and begins unbuttoning your blouse.

“Oh, you have no idea how much they’ve stolen from me.”

You run your fingers up her bare arms mapping out her freckles in your mind on the way.

She continues with a laugh. “I almost ran away twice.”

You slowly lift your hand and brush her hair back out of her face. And she leans into your touch.

“But she always said I couldn’t survive without them.”

You run your thumb down her cheek and over her plump bottom lip and she bites you lightly. You brush her chin as she continues. “And I believed her. Now there is nothing left of me but a bit of burnt wick and a wisp of smoke.”

She begins to pull your blouse and dress away revealing your white undershirt and trousers. She bites her lip as she reveals more of you. The sun coming in through the window makes her pale skin glow golden and her green eyes lighter than you have ever seen them. She is hypnotising. 

“Now look at you.”

She smiles, teeth still pressed to her bottom lip as her hands travel down your chest and abdomen. She leans in slowly as she whispers in a deep sultry voice.

“So don’t be afraid. Danger passes by those who look it right in the eye.”

You both lean in and kiss with a bit of teeth clashing. She pulls on you by the unbuttoned collar of your blouse. You fall on top of her in a mess of white cotton. She giggles against your lips and it is infectious. You want to make her laugh forever and more to feel her laugh on your lips is a blessing from above. You are in heaven laying on top of her. Her hands work at your clothes once again. With your help and parting from her lips to untangle yourself from the undergarments you are bare in front of her. Your tan skin is already hot with a thin layer of sweat from the brisk walk here and the struggle to get undressed. 

She licks her lips as her gaze falls from your face to every inch of you she can see. She is memorising your body, hungry to keep the image for herself, always. Your abdomen is strong and lean and there is a hint of abs. Your breasts are small and perky but the perfect size for her hands to hold. She bites her bottom lip as you hold yourself up above her. Your arms are flexed and she can’t help herself. Her slender long fingers run over your body making you shudder. Her gaze is intense. Her green eyes are dark and her pupils only leave a thin ring of emerald. 

You look down at her body and smirk.

“Now something about this is not fair.”

“Do something about it.”

You smirk as you sit back and pull her upright. You untie her corset and are seconds away from ripping the damn thing when it finally gives and you can unclip it. You pull it away and toss it aside. Her slip is made of thin white cotton that now exposes her hard nipples and you lick your lips in anticipation. 

“Get on your knees”

As she moves you tug the bottom of her slip up and when she is on her knees you pull it off over her head. Her skin is smooth as silk. The sweet porcelain is dotted with random freckles and as your gaze falls to her breast you find your favourite one. She has a single freckle on her left breast and you can’t help yourself as you attach your lips to it. Her hands fly into your hair and you press against her skin to skin. She is so soft and warm. She falls back on the bed as you suck and attempt to bite her breast. You want that freckle marked as yours. When she falls away from you a grunt leaves your lips. Until your gaze lands on her laid bare in front of you. She is breathtaking. Her breasts are just slightly bigger than yours and perky and her nipples are hard and a beautiful shade of pink. Her porcelain skin is flawless minus a few bruises and you adore her little belly. There is a hint of abs and she has soft lines that accent her hip bones in a delicious way. You can’t help but devour her with your gaze. Her legs are so much longer than you ever would have thought. They are fit but slender and have you wishing to worship every inch of them. 

You lean back on your knees and grab both her ankles and make her bend her legs. You lean in and kiss her inner knee on each side. You look at her through lidded eyes. You move your kisses up on the inside of her right thigh then her left. Back and forth between each leg, up…up…up, until you hover over her. You kiss the soft skin of her belly up between her breasts and capture her lips once again. She groans into your lips. And you feel her hips press up into you. "Please!"

You break from the kiss and smirk "trust me." 

You lean down and kiss her breasts, you slot your legs with hers and press your thigh against her. She sighs with relief. You bite and suck on that beautiful freckle. And squeeze her other breast. You move your kisses to her nipple and suck and flick your tongue over the stiff bud. She gasps as you bite lightly. You pinch her other nipple and you feel her hips begin to grind against you. She's so wet that you can't bear it and move your kisses down her belly. You glance up through lidded eyes before slowly leaning in to kiss her between her hips. 

She grinds into you needy. She pants out hot breaths. "Ah!"

You grab her thighs and guide her legs to put them on your shoulders. You hold the outside of her hips and suck her clit into your mouth. Her heels dig into your back as she tries to get more of you. 

You give into her needy movements and run your tongue down entering her sweet source. You moan into her she tastes so fucking good. You want this to last forever. But you can feel her legs tremble and know she is close. You devour her getting lost in the way she feels and sounds and tastes. Her thighs squeeze around your head and you groan against her. If you suffocated right now you'd die happy.

Her hands tug at your hair and she grinds against you as her thighs squeeze you and her heels dig into your back hard. "Ah AH! AHH!"

Her back arches off the bed and she presses more into you. You feel her contract and lick up every drop as she cums and squirms beneath you. 

You squeeze her hips harder trying to get her to hold still. You feel her muscles all tighten and she strains against you as you try to get more. She pulls your hair hard and releases her thighs from around your head pulling you up. You can feel her on your chin and can't stop licking your lips. 

She pulls you up and kisses you hard. She groans into the kiss and you groan back as she sucks on your tongue. You pull away when you need air and she swipes her thumb over your chin then licks it and you collapse on top of her 

She rolls you over surprisingly easily and straddles your hips. She runs her fingers over your chest and squeezes your breast pinching each hard nipple. She kisses the valley between them and down your abdomen. Moving her body down until she manoeuvres between your legs. Her hands follow. She kisses all over your lower stomach and inner thighs. She sits up and runs a hand down over you pressing her palm against your clit. Then she runs her two middle fingers down and then up spreading your slick heat and making you moan low. 

She runs the two fingers back down and just teases your entrance. She leans down then lays between your legs. She looks up at you through long lashes and leans down pressing her lips against you as her fingers slide in. She presses her tongue against you flat then flicks and sucks your clit as she presses her fingers deep inside you. You pant and shake your so worked up you're scared it won't take much. Your hands are in her hair.

"Thérèse. Thérèse."  

You pant and groan and moan her name falling from your lips softly. She hums and moans against you enjoying this new found pleasure she gets from pleasing you. 

The vibrations are too much and it takes barely any time to reach the edge and tumble off the cliff. You would be embarrassed but her eyes are sparkling with pride. She smiles as she sits back up and it murders you. She then rubs her thumb over her chin and bottom lip and sucks it clean and you throw your head back at a loss for words. 

She crawls over you slowly pressing her full weight on you and the warmth and feel of her brings you back to reality. You smile as she reaches your lips and captures them. You can feel her smile back into the kiss and it melts you. 

Your hands run up and down her back and squeeze her ass to pull her up even more. You trap her bottom lip between yours and suck lightly on it. Your kisses are slow and soft and hot. Her breath and the taste of you mixes with the taste of her on your lips and it is so addicting.

>>>>

The next time you see her is at dominos. She plays this time with a sly grin as she destroys everyone at the table. You share glances and the table discusses how it’s always the quiet ones in the corner you have to look out for. They are right because Thérèse is the epitome of the quiet one in the corner but secretly there is so much more to her. 

You know how she tastes and feels. You know the way she commands you with her eyes. 

The next day as you fuck her against a wall and she pants in your ear you feel like the luckiest person on earth to know all of her like this. 

You have two fingers buried in her from behind as she leans against the wall in a corner. Your other hand is wrapped around her front and your middle finger circles her clit as you thrust into her from behind and bite her slender shoulders. She holds the wall for support and moves her hips in time with you. You bite her shoulder harder and she reaches back with one of her hands to pull your hair. “Ah! I can’t stand not being with you.”

“Mmm I’m here.”

You thrust into her harder and she has to grab the wall once again to keep herself up. 

“Thérèse, Thérèse!” Madam shouts from downstairs.

“I have a terrible migraine, Madam.”

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

You fuck her harder and faster. “Maybe later. I need to rest.”

She turns in your arms and you pick her up with one arm and pin her against the wall as she wraps her legs around you. Your fingers slip deeper in at this angle. She is tight around your fingers, dripping down her thighs that are wrapped around you tight. Her head is thrown back against the wall. Moans fall from her open mouth and her eyebrows furrow. You kiss on the overflow of cleavage pouring from her corset and breathe her in. She smells so sweet and feels like heaven. 

She pants out hard. You bite at her exposed skin. “You like to lie.”

“I do, ah, and I’m good at it. They made me good at it.”

Her whispered tone and the feel of her have you on the edge yourself. You press your hips into your own hand to help your fingers get deeper and to find some kind of friction to relieve the throbbing in your clit. “Oh mmm”

You begin to thrust your hips helping to push your fingers deeper in a rhythm that she matches with her hips. “Ah! Thank you for locking me up in his sick room!”

You move harder, “Shh! Mmmm!”

Her eyebrows furrow and she bares her teeth as her jaw drops to allow for her heavy breathing.

“Ah! Thank you for burying me alive!”

Her walls tighten around you as you thrust harder. Your walls contract around nothing and with a few more thrusts you are both coming undone. 

“Oh Ah AH!”

“Ah! I Thank you! OH THANK YOU! AH!”

Her walls clench and contract around you tightly as she cums hard. You sign out as your own pleasure floods you. You hold her there against the wall keeping your fingers inside and your hips pressed as close as possible as you both pant and catch your breath. You kiss her neck and she digs her fingers into your shoulders. Her panting becomes sighs. Her face slowly falls to a solemn sad expression. “What’s the matter?”

“You dug me up too late.”

“No, just in time, just in time.”

You kiss her and press into her but she breaks free from the kiss. She whispers, “Save me.”

You kiss her and hold her close. You lock your gaze on her sad green eyes. “I will. I will.”

>>>>

The next day you both feel lighter and sillier than ever. Maybe it is the cool air today but you end up softly exploring each other's bodies. You end up on the floor as you tickle her sides and wrap your arms around her from behind and kiss her shoulder. Her laugh fills you with warmth and joy like nothing else ever has and as you suspect nothing ever will. 

You tickle her more and press against her to try and get more of her adorable laughter.

She laughs and squirms in your arms. “I hated you at first.”

You laugh along with her. “You hated me?”

She turns over in your arms and you remain laying on your side so you can look at her. She bites her bottom lip and you trace your finger over her jaw. 

“Before you ever touched me.”

She whispers in her low and deep voice as she touches your collar bones with her fingertips. “I used to walk into a room, and I’d see you there. And you’d barely look up. I'd find myself moving around and around your chair, hoping that a small part of my dress or my hand might touch you.”

You brush your fingers on her chest as she plays with your chin. “Do you still hate me?”

Her gaze saddens her eyes loose the light and she whispers softly “Yes”.

“Why?”

“Because you can leave me.”

“But I won’t. I promise.”

You lean in and brush your nose against hers and kiss her. “I promise.” 

You kiss her again. And again “I promise.”

She holds your face in one of her hands and melts into your kisses as she pulls you on top of her with her other hand. She finally cracks a smile as you tickle her hip before rolling back over onto your back pulling her on top of you. You kiss her and fit your legs in a tangled bare mess. The kisses quickly heat up and your hips begin to move against each other. You grind on each other's thighs, her hands tightly gripping your shoulders for leverage and your hands gripping her ass firmly to help her. It doesn’t take long for you both to lose yourselves in the pleasure. Her loose wavy brown hair falls in a mess around you and you have the best view of her cleavage that is barely contained by the corset and slip. You don’t think you will ever be able to get enough of her. Both your movements become more frantic. You both pant and sigh and moan quietly. The sounds of just how wet you both are is delicious and you can feel her hips become more rigid and your own rise to meet the impending climax. Sweet release has you both shaking and breathing heavily against each other. She collapses onto you and falls to your side. You turn to look at her.

Your fingers are tracing over her skin mapping her freckles. She lays flat beside you, hair sprawled out and all over. The sun coming in the window makes her fair skin seem lightly kissed by the warmth of the sun. Her cheeks are flush with a vibrant shade of pink and you know it was not the sun but you. You lean over her and smile. 

>>>>

The next time you see her you both stay dressed. You are exhausted from work and sit on the floor while she plays with your hair as you rest your head in her lap as she sits on a chair. Her slender fingers are skilled and soft and she twists and tangles and untangles your hair. Her fingers run through it over and over and send chills down your spine. You honestly feel so blissed out that you think you may enjoy this as much as the sex if not more! She is so caring and just feels so right. She hums for a while and stares down at you with her sweetest smile. 

“I want to fall asleep in your arms.”

You sigh happily at the thought of it. “I wish that could happen.”

“I want to touch your body while you sleep. I want to wake up with your tongue inside me.”

She smiles and tugs lightly on your ear and you can’t help but laugh as well.

“Thérèse. Thérèse I made you some Chamomile tea.” Madam shouts as she ascends the stairs.

“Oh, my god. Get under my skirts.”

She stands quickly and you manoeuvre yourself under and between her legs as best you can. It is a tight fit.

“Thérèse?”

You are surrounded by her sweet scent under her skirts and pressed against her skin it makes your mouth water. “Open your legs.”

“No.”

“I can’t breathe.”

“I don’t care.”

She pushes the skirts and sits back in the chair as she gets comfortable and it allows you just a little more room.

Madame knocks and brings tea in “were you dozing, dear? I thought I heard you mutter something.”

Thérèse sighs and moves ever so slightly to look at Madame which allows you to fit your head between her thighs.

“Maybe I was. I don’t remember.”

You begin to softly kiss her inner thighs and nip at the soft skin. She is only wearing the skirts today so she is exposed to you. You can tell the effect you have on her as she sighs and moves to accommodate you between her legs. You kiss up…up…up.

“Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

She sighs heavily as you kiss her right where she needs you and you smirk. Your dirty girl is so bad she is so wet and you know it’s the thrill of being caught that has her so sensitive to your slow kisses. 

She gasps and unintentionally moves her sitting position just a bit. You are being squeezed between her legs and it is glorious. 

“How’s your head? Still agonising?”

You suck her clit into your mouth evilly hoping to affect her answer. 

She gasps “Ah! It comes and goes.” She struggles.

She takes a deep breath trying to steady herself. “Perhaps I should rub your neck.”

“Oh, you know, I don’t think that's-” “-Oh, it always helped when you were small.”

You hear Madame walk around behind Thérèse and smirk as you flick your tongue over Thérèse. 

Thérèse takes a deep and shaky breath as Madame massages her neck and you lap at her dripping sex. Kissing, sucking, flicking. 

“You know, you’ve had so many headaches lately. Perhaps we should talk to the doctor.”

“Mmm-hmm.” 

“I need you by my side, dear, down in the shop.”

Thérèse barely contains a sharp gasp as you devour her. And dig your short nails into her thighs to try and gain control of her strong legs. 

“Yes.”

She breathes out softly and you can tell she is giving in to you as her legs allow you to move your head slightly down so you can take directly from the source. But the second your tongue presses against her tight core her legs squeeze around you tighter around your head and muffle the outside world. You think maybe Madame is singing but you could care less you manage to get just enough leeway that you can lick the length of her and flick your tongue over her clit. You don’t know how much time passes as you lose yourself in her. The heat trapped under her skirts makes her skin feel so soft. You suck and flick and devour her until she pulls you out from under her skirts. You didn’t even hear Madame leave. She kisses you and bites your bottom lip. 

“Christ, Lauren!” 

>>>>

You are lounging on your bed reading in your long white button up when a panicked series of soft knocks sound at your door. You disregard your book and rush to the door. 

Thérèse is in a panic, it’s late and you were not expecting her to show up at your place. She rushes to kiss you the second you open your door and the kiss is frantic. You pull back and pull her into your apartment and press her against the door. You hold her face in both your hands and search her eyes for answers.

“He wants to go back to Vernon! I can’t be without you, I can't.”

“Breathe, Thérèse. Did you run here?” 

She takes a deep but shaky breath and it causes the water in her eyes to streak down her cheeks. You catch the tears with your thumbs and she closes her eyes. “Save me, Lauren.”

You lean in and kiss her firmly with as much reassurance as you can muster. She bites your bottom lip and kisses back with a fever. You can feel her fears and desperation to have you and keep you. You move your hands down her face and neck and grip her hips pushing her into the door harder. Her hands tangle in your hair and pull she is so scared she is trembling and it breaks your heart. You want to wrap her in your arms to reassure her but she needs something else first. She runs a hand between you and runs two fingers through your slick heat. You can’t help the groan that escapes you. She is being more aggressive than she’s ever been demanding to get what she needs. 

You move your hands bunching up her skirts in one hand and waste no time matching her. Your fingers match her aggressive fever. She kisses and bites at your lip between breathy moans and it takes no time at all for you both to come undone. You have to press your entire body against her and the door to keep you both from collapsing. She kisses you once more after you both catch your breath. “I can’t live without you any longer!” 

Her gaze is too much; the tears in her green eyes make them impossibly green. You turn away and she follows, unable to lose contact with you she latches onto your back and pulls at you. “What do we do?”

Her voice breaks and the raspy roughness solidifies how much she's been crying. Your heart is shattering. You can’t live without her. 

You turn and wrap her in your arms tightly. “I won’t lose you, Thérèse. I can’t.”

She buries her head in the crook of your neck and you sigh as you think.

“I could move with you.”

She looks up at you with tear stained cheeks and red puffy lips agape. She shakes her head.

“It wouldn’t be the same. I'd see you even less! What if we run away together?”

You nod acknowledging her words. “We can’t just run, we'd need to disappear. Fake our deaths and become new people!” 

She looks at you desperate. “Could we? How?” 

“People disappear and go away all the time, we make it seem like an accident. People have accidents everyday.”

She searches your gaze. “Do you love me?” She asks firmly. 

“Yes. Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Then we disappear together and we become Luarent and Thérèsa Lister. We change our names, I hide my body and I become your husband.”

“Could we?”

“I think we could. We could run away to America or just get out of Paris.”

You kiss her quickly “tomorrow we can make a plan.”

She nods and pecks your lips once more before turning and leaving.

>>>>

The two of you work out a plan. You manage to get new papers for the both of you and begin setting up for the day. 

When the day comes things feel heavy. The weight of it all sets in as you walk in the park with Thérèse and Camille. The tall greenery that surrounds you makes you feel small, insignificant and you think maybe just maybe this plan of yours will work. Maybe you will get to be happy.

Camille is yammering about summer and you are struggling to focus on his words. Thérèse interrupts him and your nervous thoughts. “Listen.”

“What?”

“I hear water.”

“Maybe it’s the leaves drifting down.”

You interrupt “It’s the river. Beyond those trees over there.” 

You point and Thérèse looks. 

“Why don’t we rent a boat and row out into the sunset?” Camille asks.

“Just let me sit down for a moment.”

Camille wanders over to a tree and sits. Thérèse follows him and you follow even farther behind, lost in thought.

“Are you tired?”

“Oh, I’m exhausted. I couldn’t have trudged another step. Just let me catch up with a couple of winks.”

Thérèse walks slowly closer to him and he calls her to sit next to him. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He is a giant manchild. He lays down on the puff of her dress and closes his eyes. You take a seat near Thérèse and look at them. Thérèse looks like she is on autopilot like she is so used to being this man's pillow and taking care of him. It makes you so mad that she has gotten accustomed to this treatment. 

She looks down at him. “Are you warm enough?” She pauses to bend down a bit “Camille?”

He is already out like a light so you shush her to keep from waking him happy to have a break from him. You take the opportunity to softly caress her leg that is nearest to you. You move your hand up needing to feel her, be close to her. You need to feel grounded because you are full of anxious nerves. 

Her gaze snaps to you in a wide eyed shock. “Don’t.”

You pause. “I need to touch you.”

You can read her body the second the words leave your lips she needs it too. She bites her bottom lip as you take off her shoe and caress her foot and up her leg. You lean over and kiss her ankle. 

She sighs and you just know her lips are parted and her eyes are wide with that face she makes when she is anticipating your next move.

“Oh my God.” She whispers.

You glance up at her. 

“Look. There, clomping through the leaves.”

You sit up and turn to look where she is. You sigh as you see the domino game night gang walking about coming toward you. You rush to stand and brush leaves off of you as they wave and shout. They approach and Thérèse shushes them. 

Suzanne looks at Thérèse, “What happened to you to your foot?”

Thérèse is quick with a lie "Blister."

She looks at her with a pout “I got one, too.” She turns to her husband “I told you this walk was too far.”

He rolls his eyes at her “Well, we’re leaving now, aren’t we darling?”

She sighs “Without doing a single thing we came to do.”

He sounds even more annoyed as he leans into her space. “If you want to rent a boat, Suzanne and row out into the fading light be my guest. I’m going home.”

He treks past leaving her standing there and you can’t help but shake your head at the ridiculous man. 

Suzanne leans toward Thérèse. “Can I tell you something, Thérèse?”

Thérèse looks up with a nod. And Suzanne continues “All men are pigs.” 

She stomps off after her husband and Grivet sighs. “Why can’t you two be civil to one another?”

They all wonder off arguing about renting a boat or not and you look to Thérèse with a sly smile. “All men are pigs. I agree.”

“You won’t turn into a pig once you pretend to be a man will you?”

You shake your head. “I could never.”

You wander to the docks after Camille awakes and of course Camille yammers on about boats and water and how he is terrified of water, a fact you already knew and the reason you are out here today. You also know he can’t swim and that is essential to the plan. 

You help him into the boat “Sit down, Camille. Don’t stand in the boat.”

You turn to Thérèse and she looks nervous. She knows how to swim but is not confident in her skills. You have reassured her that you won't let anything happen to her but it seems she needs a bit more reassurance now. 

Camille continues to yammer on to himself so you whisper to Thérèse. “I love you.”

She grabs your hand and gets in the boat whispering back “I love you.”

You adjust and sit in the centre grabbing the paddles and begin to row out. You paddle far off to the side less taken due to the stronger currents of water. Camille is distractedly looking forward to the setting sun and leaning over to touch the water. You nod at Thérèse and mouth the word “Now.”

Her gaze is full of fright but you nod again and she leans over the opposite side as Camille to touch the water and then hoists herself overboard with a scream and loud splash. Camille turns, gripping the sides of the boat in terror. “I can’t swim! Lauren, save her!”

You nod and jump into the water destabilising the boat. It tips over dumping Camille into the water. He screams and panics to hold onto the edge of the boat. You swim after Thérèse going under water and grabbing her. You swim together disappearing around the bend in the river. You come up behind some overgrown shrubbery that falls into the water. She takes in a large breath as you both come up. She has a death grip on you and you help pull her up onto the bank, her dress heavy and weighing her down. You help her strip it off, being sure to tear it, throwing a few pieces into the water. You throw off your vest and skirt as well, tearing them up. Just beyond this bend the water picks up pace and there are rocks and a few deep pools of water. With the setting sun your hope is they will find pieces of your clothes and assume the worst. When they search for your bodies they will struggle to search and possibly just give up and call you both dead. 

You can both hear Camille screaming for help and other voices far off in the distance. You move quickly now changing your clothes from the bag you had hidden here in preparation. You dress as a man and Thérèse dresses in a much more simple dress than the one she came in. You sneak out of the park in a rush and make it unseen.   

The plan is working. The two of you just have to make it to the train station. You have all your money and the little Thérèse has been able to hide away. It's enough to live a peaceful life far away from both your pasts. 

Thérèse stays quiet. She is excited but you can tell she's full of nerves. You squeeze her hand and she leans into you. 

You make it to the train station with time to spare. You grab some snacks at the little shop attached to the train station and sit on a bench. There were not many people at this late hour and that was part of the plan. The sun has set and the search for your bodies has probably been abandoned with the fleeting light. The people waiting for this late train are like you running or hiding from something. No one chooses the night train if they can help it. You snack on the peanuts, candies, and bread. A rather sad dinner but it will hold you both over. 

Thérèse has clung to your side and stayed rather quiet. You watch her carefully worried she might change her mind or panic. You feel on the verge of panic yourself, the adrenalin is wearing off and you are starting to worry and exhaustion is settling in your bones. 

When the train arrives you give Thérèse an encouraging squeeze of the hand as you board. You sat in the front and waited anxiously for the train conductor to come by and check your tickets and papers. 

You both hold your breath anxious to see if your new identities will hold up. Your breasts are bandaged down and the suit you wear has not gotten you any second glances like your old wardrobe did. You are confident in your deeper voice and the friend who forged your papers but you can't help but be nervous. 

The conductor takes your papers and reads over them. He glances at you both and smiles. "Evening Mr. And Mrs. Lister."

You both give a polite smile to the conductor. "Evening."

He punches holes in your tickets and hands back your papers. You both let out quiet sighs of relief and turn to Thérèse. "How does it feel to be Mrs. Lister?" 

Her lips tug upward and you can't help but smile back "Well, we haven't gotten a chance to truly consummate this Marriage Mr. Lister. You haven't even kissed me Laurent."

She makes sure to put emphasis on the t as she pronounces your new name.

Your smile shifts into a smirk. Heat pools low at the way she says your new name. You follow suit and put emphasis on the a in her new name. "Mmm Thérèsa." 

You lean in and softly capture her lips. She bites at your bottom lip softly and pulls away. "Later."

You peck her lips quickly. "Mmm hmm."

>>>>

Exhaustion settles in and you fight sleep until you no longer can you both nap off and on through the long ride. 

Morning stirs as the train continues on. The train has a food cart so you make a trip to get some pastries and coffee. 

You both eat soaking up the sunshine beaming in through the windows. The world seems brighter the farther you get from the cold dark dungy city. The freedom is warm on your skin and fills you with joy like you have never known. You can see the peaceful bliss across Thérèsa's face. 

Everything feels good. You think that maybe just maybe things will be good. 

>>>>

You arrive in the far off village of your new home. A delicate little cottage with a flowery garden surrounding it that is on the outskirts of the village. It's private and bright. Sweet flowery scents and chirps of birds.

When you take it all in you can see your future here.

The cottage itself is small and cosy. It has a cute little spare room that you can transform into a library and office to write more books in. 

The garden is perfect for Thérèsa's hopes to grow different flowers and fruits and vegetables to sell some in the village and help you live comfortably. 

Smiles are shared and you know you both will love it here. You turn to her and wrap her in a hug. She squeals as you lift her up into your arms bridal style and carry her into your cottage. You carry her to your new shared bed where you get to have her forever all to yourself. 

You stand and slowly start to unbutton the suit you're wearing. She bites her bottom lip and pulls herself up to help you from the edge of the bed. 

She exposes you fully before she lets you start to remove her dress. Her emerald gaze scans your entire body. 

She looks at you like you like no one else ever has. There is a softness and yet a hunger and the love shining brightly in her eyes has your knees weak. 

You move closer and slowly unbutton the blouse top to her dress. You peel the fabric away and make her turn away from you so you can remove her corset. You kiss her shoulders. "I don't think you should wear this awful thing anymore, at least not here at home."

"Mmm hmm. I'm sure you'd rather I wear nothing here at home."

"That would be ideal."

"Maybe for you but I'd get cold." 

"No, I wouldn't allow it. I'd keep you warm."

You wrap her up in your arms as you remove the last part of the top half of her dress. She turns in your arms and captures your lips. You move your hands to the skirts and remove the last of the material between you. Her skin on display is something you hope you never get used to. It's breathtaking. She has the softest skin that's just dusted with freckles. You take your time soaking in every inch of her exposed skin the way her muscles flex as she moves to lay down. 

You slowly climb onto the bed and slot your legs together as you lower yourself onto her. She pulls you down fully by your shoulders and captures your lips with an inpatient urgent need. You match her urgency, but only for a moment. You pull back trying to slow the kisses down. You want her so badly but you don't want to rush a thing. This is the first time you don't have to worry about being caught. She whimpers and grips your shoulder desperate to have you closer than close. She moans when you let more of your body weight settle atop her. 

You move your hips against her and feel her slick heat spread across your thigh and you adjust so you can get the same friction against her. She lets out a breathy moan as she feels how hot and wet you are for her. She moves her hands to your ass and pulls as she bucks her hips up against you. A dance of pulling and pushing of hips warms both of your skin. You burn with passion and feel how heated her entire body is for you. She moans biting her lip like she always does to keep herself quiet. “Louder, I want to hear everything.” 

The sound of her free unsuppressed moans sends shivers down your spine and makes you groan against her neck. She feels so good and sounds like music to your ears. You know she is close as her eyebrows crease and her mouth opens more moans falling from her kiss bruised lips. You can feel your own pleasure building to that familiar crescendo. She racks her blunt nails down your back as she screams out and the sting sends you following her over the edge.   

You collapse beside her and pull her into kissing all the exposed skin available. You both sigh happily. 

You have finally found a home in her and she finally feels loved and free. You both are excited to start the rest of your lives together here. 

AN: I hope you all enjoyed this GAY version of ‘In Secret’! I have been going through it and working on this one for a while. I am sorry I can never keep a posting schedule. Anyway, I appreciate interactions of any kind. I just love to talk about my obsession with the incredible talent that is Elizabeth Olsen or any badass Ladies really! 

[hellcheer-heaven]

Any Headcanons for girl dad!Eddie?

Yes, yes I do!

When he learned that they were having a girl, he was even more excited than Chrissy.

Eddie adored Elizabeth the moment she was born.

He is tender, gentle, and kind to his little girl.

He would move the stars and moon for her.

When she was an infant he would get teary eyed when he would pass her over to someone else, even if it was for a minute with a familiar person.

Chrissy would tell him that she needs to breastfeed her, but he can’t let her go, “No, Chrissy, I don’t want to. Please just a few more minutes.”

Eddie is pretty good at impressions so he would talk to baby Elizabeth as Kermit the Frog, Elmo, and Mickey Mouse.

Aside from the usual children’s songs, he will also sing gentle renditions of rock and metal songs to her; oddly enough those ones help to ease her when she’s crying.

If she wants to play princesses, he will gladly put on a tutu and tiara.

If she wants to play dinosaur, she will chase him and he must get “eaten” every time; otherwise he’s gonna “eat” her.

His knowledge of hair care was next to nothing, so he quickly learned how to care for and style her locks in different ways.

For her first day of preschool, he and Chrissy made her a little jean jacket with adorable patches: A butterfly, a heart, a rabbit, three flowers, and a rainbow.

Eddie wanted to add band logos, but he was worried that the teachers would judge her (turns out the teachers loved rock/metal too).

Chrissy reminds Eddie that Lizzie needs to eat nutritional food when she goes to preschool (which he does pack), but he’ll sneak at least one sweet treat into her lunch.

Eddie is the tickle monster: He loves to tickle Chrissy and Lizzie.

He is also the raspberry monster.

He will be her canvas when it comes to play makeup, “Pretty. So pretty like mommy and me.”

Chrissy has taken a number of pictures of three y/o Lizzie making up his face.

Lizzie loves to listen to her dad’s “scary/crazy music” and asks him to play it, resulting in them rocking out to Black Sabbath, Metallica, and more.

He will clap the loudest and cheer the longest whenever she performs a song.

Eddie loves to play his acoustic for her; he would play and sing Beatles songs to her.

He will create different voices for the characters in her story books.

He will give many, many, many kisses on her forehead.

Lizzie will try to get her dad on her side when Chrissy tells her “no.”

She gives him the sad puppy eyes and he’s trying not to let that get to him.

It was challenging at first, but he does learn to be consistent and follow through after telling her “no.”

He always tells her that he loves her.

When she begins to talk a little more, Eddie does a special morning ritual with her in front of the mirror every morning.

He holds her and asks her to repeat each of these phrases: “I am strong. I am brave. I am smart. I am beautiful. I am loved.”

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Shower Sex Masterlist

A long hard fuck, you say? (Muke smut) (ao3) - orphan_account michael/luke N/R, 1k

Summary: Michael and Luke have shower sex, that's pretty much all you need to know

feels like i’m dreaming but i’m not sleeping (ao3) - badomensbaby luke/calum, michael/ashton E, 29k

Summary: “But saying that out loud is just..” the blonde boy trails off, his voice weakened and unsteady, “Makes me feel kind of pathetic, I guess.” “Pathetic?” Calum parrots, “Therapy isn’t just for people who have issues, Luke. I have patients who just like to tell me about their life because they want to. You have this preconceived notion that therapy is only for broken people.”

or, luke has too many problems but calum doesn’t mind them.

his only reason (ao3) - theonlyreason michael/luke T, 9k

Summary: there's a reason why 'the only reason' was gender-neutral

In The Dark (Like Meteorites) (ao3) - dafeedil michael/calum/ashton E, 26k

Summary: Ashton falls for Calum at a nightclub, and then for Calum's boyfriend, too.

I Wouldn't Know What to Say If I Had You (ao3) - bitscrawford (orphan_account) luke/ashton E, 3k

Summary: “Can’t we just… shower together or sumthin’?”

Ashton’s brow furrows and he turns to look at Luke. “Are you serious?”

“Can’t two bros shower together without it being gay?”

Kinky (ao3) - wastedheartmuke michael/luke M, 43k

Summary: While moving into their new apartment, Luke finds a list of kinks Michael wants to try.

Seems like vanilla sex isn't enough for his boyfriend, but is Luke willing to try some kinky things?

Kissing And Touching Like No One Else (Do You Say That I'm A Sweetheart?) (ao3) - Migs luke/calum E, 1k

Summary: "Hi baby." Calum whispers as he joins Luke under the steaming hot shower, sneaking his arms under Luke's armpits as he hugs the blond from behind. His cock nestles perfectly between the plush globes when the blond arches his back towards the touch.

"Hi." Luke smiles as he turns his head sideways so that Calum can kiss his cheek.

OR: Cake shower sex

Like A Virgin (Touched For The Very First Time) (ao3) - DontGetTooCloseItsDarkInside michael/luke E, 5k

Summary: "So I have a head canon that Mikey was a bottom back in 2011 when he lost his virginity to Luke. Can you have them just like non stop fucking? Like Michael realizes he has feeling for Luke and after months of pining from the both of them Michael finally loses his virginity to Luke and they don't stop having sex for like daaaays!"

Lost Hearts (ao3) - CliffordAffliction ot4 E, 177k

Summary: Ashton, Luke, Calum and Michael live in four different worlds in high school and each one of them is in love with someone who loves someone else. This can’t possibly end well…or can it?

So Much Better (ao3) - orphan_account calum/ashton, michael/luke, bryana/ashton N/R, 84k

Summary: This is good, good for Ashton. He works so hard, always taking care of the boys, he deserves someone who will take his mind off of things, even for a couple of hours to get coffee. Maybe it’ll make him better, and by extension, the band better. Maybe Bryana is a good thing for everyone. Yet, even now, as Calum tries to think of how great Bryana could be for Ashton, he can’t help but think that he would be so much better.

Or the one where Calum and Ashton have been Friends With Benefits for years, and Calum thought his feelings for Ashton were simply sexual until Bryana came into the picture.

that’s why you like it (ao3) - merlypops michael/calum E, 69k

Summary: Calum starts doing workouts in the garden over the summer and Michael spends the whole time with his hand down his pants (until Calum takes matters into his own hands).

The Way You Take Away My Breath (ao3) - dracomalfloy michael/luke E, 3k

Summary: Michael accidentally reveals to the world that he and Luke shower together

Tie That Binds - @ashtcnirwin (elivigar) E, 98k

Summary: In which Luke wants to explore miscellaneous kinks and Ashton strikes him as a good candidate to do said exploring with with.

Touchy Feely (ao3) - sammyswagstar ot4 E, 9k

Summary: The fic with demisexual Michael and ot4 that no one asked for. Michael gets handsy in the shower with his best friends and they take advantage of him, before they all get their happy ending. Pun intended?

Where You Go, I'll Follow (ao3) - fourdrunksluts, reversecow calum/ashton, michael/luke E, 211k

Summary: This story follows Calum, Michael, Luke, and Ashton on their journey to self-discovery. Through first loves, heartbreaks, and friendship, this is the behind the scenes of what the cameras didn't show through the years. 

[redsoul-writing]

Chapter 9- Color of Arms

Previous chapters

DISCLAIMER: I OWN THE PLOT AND ONLY THE PLOT.

Picture below is for reference. This is a Bardiche. It's a polearm weapon that's like a spear but slightly different. The Bardiche y/n uses is identical to this one, but you can picture it however you like. For convenience you'll find me referring to it as a spear often.

Y/n landed on her butt for the third time today.

“Ow…” she rubbed the sore spot as she stood up.

“You’re an alright sparring partner, but you’re lacking.” Mihawk speaks.

“Way to put it bluntly.” She deadpans as she clutches her staff.

“That staff is very durable, where did you get it?” Mihawk asks.

“It’s not a staff, it’s a Bardiche.” She glanced at it. “I found it on an uninhabited island we stopped at. When we were looking for a place to rest, I found a cave. It was just…standing there.”

“Standing?” The swordsman raised a brow.

“Yeah, it's hard to believe, but I took it. I needed an upgrade from my old spear. I was getting too strong for it.” She answers.

“Let’s try again. You gave me some type of challenge.” Mihawk seemed to be reasoning with himself at this point.

Y/n was getting frustrated with the gap between them. ‘Should I use… no, it’s too risky. I haven’t mastered it.’ She started contemplating something.

Mihawk saw this and decided to pull her out of her thoughts, throwing a slash at her.

She narrowly dodged it, turning back to a sword inches from her face.

‘Yeah, screw this, I’ll do it.’

Her forearms were encased in black, Bardiche parrying the sword ever so slightly before she punched Mihawks abdomen, her arms going back to normal.

He stumbled for a moment before regaining balance and stood there in shock.

“What?” She sweatdropped.

“You didn’t tell me you had color of arms.” He answered. “Why didn’t you use it earlier?”

“I haven’t mastered it… I can’t control it for long…” she paused encasing her arms again before they return a second later. “As you can see.”

He stood there for a moment, seeming to be thinking about something.

Y/n slowly lost herself in her thoughts.

‘What is he thinking about?’

‘It’s about me isn’t it…’ she looked at his Yoru

‘Is he mad?’ She glanced at his face.

‘It’s kind of hot.’ Y/n noticed how much she was sweating.

‘He’s kind of hot.’ Her eyes glanced at the sweat droplets rolling down his chest.

‘Wait- what?!’ Y/n covered her face, scolding herself.

“Y/n.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah?” She calmed herself down.

“I would like to train you.”

…

“Huh?! That’s so sudden!” She gaped.

“I’ve thought about it. Haki can’t be bad, just untrained.” He explained.

“Yeah but…” she mumbled

“It’s also possible that you have other types of haki. When did you obtain it?”

“My friend Hina helped me out.” Y/n started thinking to herself.

—————

Hina is her good friend. She’s also her senior, a Captain, Much stronger than the commander. Hina not only took a liking to y/n’s character, but was filled with joy that she’d met another female marine officer. There aren’t very many.

—————

“Captain Hina?” Mihawk guessed.

“You know her?” The commander was surprised.

“I read the newspaper, I’ve never met her.”

“I see.” She paused. “Well, I’ll gladly learn from you. But do you think I’ll master it before the meeting?”

“That depends on you. Do you think you can do it, y/n?”

The (h/c) haired thought for a moment.

—————

Ana’s voice rang in her head.

“Y/n, you need to be more confident in yourself. And your looks.”

—————

“Yeah. I can do it.” She ignored the last part of what her sister said.

“Good.” He smirked.

Y/n started realizing just how handsome the Spanish Swordsman was, his smirk bringing some heat to her cheeks.

—————

As they sparred, y/n seemed to gain control over color of arms. Mihawk was on the offensive though, and she was struggling on the defense.

It was difficult when she kept glancing at his countenance, the sun kissing it.

“You’re tense.” He snapped her out of her daze.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just focus.” He sneaked a kick from below.

She jumped onto him, finally finding an opening.

She swerved and tried to throw him over her shoulder, but he just pulled her wrist. She fell towards the ground, pulling him with her.

Thud.

“Oops.” She giggled as she opened her eyes.

Not a second later she went silent, her eyes widening. She was laying underneath Dracule, her grasp on his chest as he trapped her between his arms. His face was inches away.

Y/n prayed that her mask hid her tomato-red face. Unfortunately, it didn’t cover the bottom half of it.

Hawkeyes stared into her eyes for a moment before he smirked. “Your face is a little red. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” She looked away. From him.

‘His eyes are like magnets! Why do I keep looking at them?’ She glanced at said Hawkeyes.

He got up and offered her a hand, which she hesitantly accepted.

“That’s enough for today. You’ve progressed.” He walked towards the mansion.

“Really?” She beamed.

“You’ve gained more control over your haki.” He glanced at her face.

Y/n quietly pumped her fist in the air until she noticed his gaze on her. She covered her face in embarrassment.

“I’m hungry. Let’s go make dinner.” She speed-walked to the mansion door.

‘Cute.’ The warlord chuckled to himself.

[dreamcatcherrs]

dating a faceless streamer/youtuber; mcyt x reader

+ this was a request, but it got deleted in my drafts ;-; sorry!

dream:

since he is also a faceless youtuber

he’s very understanding of keeping your privacy

and whatever reason you have to not reveal your face, he respects it

he knows what it’s like to have people tell him to face reveal

sometimes his voice will just appear in the back of your streams/videos

like in sapnap’s with the question about one direction

and chat is like, how long has he been here?????

the two of you would hint at a face reveal

and then after weeks brush it off like it was nothing

because you like to torture the fans, I guess🙄

because dream never has a face cam on

he has the perfect seat for you on his lap whenever he streams/films

and the same thing goes for when you film/stream; he’ll be sitting right next to you with his hand in yours or on your thigh

you’re known as the faceless couple

georgenotfound:

it really doesn't bother him at all that you’re a faceless streamer/youtuber

I don't see him as the type to post a whole lot of pictures with his s/o anyways

or something along those lines

so it wouldn't make a big difference to him

would just think it was funny to tease chat about knowing what you look like, when they don't

and then having them just hear you voice in the background of his videos sometimes

but not actually seeing you

he kinda likes that your relationship is more concealed

and that it’s harder for people to come at you when they don't know what you look like exactly, just because he’s dating you

because that would honestly be his biggest worry when revealing your relationship

so he’s happy that’s one less worry :)

sapnap:

does everything to not get people to beg for a face reveal

he doesn't want people to put that kind of pressure on you

especially if they go after you for it just because you're dating him

like, he will make a video about it if he has to

or tweet about it

the last thing he wants is for the fake fans to try and reveal your face or other things about you

when clearly that’s what you wanna keep private

that being said, he’d do so many streams with you

wether it’s gong against each other, or being on the same team

you always have so much fun together

even if you're literally in the same room together

if his face cam is on, he’d look over at you every now and then and send you a smile or some shit like that

there’s some pretty cute moments - expect a compilation

badboyhalo:

bad would be really proud to have an s/o who did youtube/streamed

and he would for sure help you out if you ever needed him to!

like with coding

or just general growth in your channel

wouldn't really care if you showed your face or not - whatever you're happy with makes him happy

he would just make sure that you never felt pressured to show your face

he knows people out there can be meanies

and come for you just because you don't show your face

and he’d always be there to talk to about it if it ever stressed you out

he would also make sure that you didn't hide your face because you didn’t like it or something like that

and if that was the case, you bet he’d be reassuring you

calling your all kinds of sweet things and show you lots of love

he takes lots of pictures of his two favourite girls

you and rat, of course (without showing your face, obviously)

technoblade:

he actually really likes that you're a faceless streamer/youtuber

like, he doesn't notice how much he likes it

before he realises all of the times you'd sneaked some hand-holding while streaming, or shared little kisses when on mute wouldn't have been possible if you both didn't show your faces

you’d share these secret glances when streaming/filming together

and no one would even know about it

sometimes his chat hears a little talking in the background from you

but techno just brushes it off like you weren't sitting right next to him the entire time

and vice versa

he also just stays with you when you're working

sharing small touches and words

chat also notice eventually how much you gush over each other without noticing

it happens A LOT more than you realise

especially from his side🤭

wilbur soot:

okay so

I think wilbur would have a hard time not showing you off to stream every second of the day

he would just always talk about you and want you there with him in his streams

and miss your touch after 5 minutes of being apart

but would be totally respectful of you wanting to remain faceless

he would just talk to you from an angle where chat couldnt see you

but yeah, he loves that you do the same type of job as him

and most of all, you motivate each other on days where you can't be bothered to even get out of bed

you’re definitely that couple that everyone makes cute compilations of

and that everyone strives to be

chat loves you, what more can I say

corpse husband:

ANOTHER FACELESS COUPLE

the power you two hold over everyone is actually immaculate

you stream/film together all the time

just having fun and being yourselves

he would definitely ask if you could join the games he plays with others when streaming

and if that wasn't possible, he’d just get you to come into his room and be part of it that way

he teases you a lot on stream

both cutely and mischievously

and your viewers are like👀

while his chat is just going crazy

you share lots of giggles

like, seriously, the majority of the videos/streams consists of you two laughing your asses off

you two will forever be known as the faceless couple

even if you both face reveal, that’ll always be your title

skeppy:

zak will find a way to show you off no matter what

he just can't resist

the way his heart is always beating out of his chest because of you is just too much for him to not ever show you to the world

but of course with your consent only

he wouldn't ever pressure you or anything

but since you're only remaining faceless

you can expect LOTS of matching outfit pictures taken in the mirror

and just lots of pictures of you in general

with your face blocked out or not in view, of course

you'd always be helping each other with your setups or videos

and he’d want to introduce you to literally everyone he knows

especially bad

you don't necessarily stream/film a lot with each other

but you're always in each others’ company in some shape or form

he always mentions you in his streams

just small stories or conversations

chat can tell he’s head over heels for you

karl jacobs:

he's the most support person everrr

he’d always be celebrating even the tiniest achievements with you

you hit 2k subs? he’ll treat you to an expensive ass dinner

you hit 1 million subs? he’ll buy you a whole room full of filming gear to improve from your previous ones

you managed to finish that one video you've been struggling with? he takes you on a weekend trip to somewhere you’ve always wanted to go

he’ll beg you to join him in is streams

just so he can hold your hand :)

or laugh with you every once in a while

he doesn't need you to face reveal at all

your company is all that matters to him when it includes the rest of the world

I mean, he’s the one able to see your beautiful face all the time, so he can't really complain even if he felt like it

always tweets about you or tweets things at you that only you two understand

and everyone is like ?????

but you don't care :)

fundy:

fundy actually doesn't talk a lot about you in his streams or videos

mostly to avoid people leaving bad light on you in the chat

unless he’s in the same game as you, of course

which in that case, the first thing he’d want to do is find you and talk to you in the game

he’s very respectful of you keeping your face private

and tries his best to keep the pressure of a face reveal off your shoulders

especially if it’s happening in his or your comments

if it gets really bad, he’ll eventually talk about it on twitter or something like that

does tiktoks with you

only with your voice though

and posts manyyy pictures where you’re tagged, but only slightly in view

he doesn't really care about your face being a secret

as long as he gets to see it, he’s happy

quackity:

alex has so much fun making videos or going live with you

and obviously you have the best collabs

you’re the funniest couple on the platform and it shows

he would talk so much about you - like, telling embarrassing stories about you or some shit like that

or saying how clingy you are with him

and chat would be like AWW HE TALKS ABOUT THEM

and he's like “no”😤

but alex can't fool anyone

he’s in it for real with you🥴

and at times, he doesn't even try to hide it

especially when he speaks up about ho proud he is of you

and how people should respect your choice of remaining faceless to the world

but then he quickly moves on to his silly self again

with blushy cheeks ^w^

punz:

has you on his lap constantly

even when his hand-cam is on

nothing will stop him from making you sit on his lap while he’s streaming

he loves that he can rant to you about the problems he faces sometimes concerning his streams

because you get it

he’d teach you the games you didn't know of

and you'd teach him the games that he didn't know of

and then you'd stream/film together after learning the basics

he doesn't talk about you a lot on stream

but chat eventually figures out it’s because you're literally in the same room as him

and how do they find that out, you may ask?

well, your snores coming from his headphones made it very obvious to say the least

awesamdude:

sam knows what it’s like being a faceless streamer

so if you wanted, he’d give you all of the advice you needed

and if you ever considered face revealing, he'd totally help you!

you guys have matching setups 

you sometimes talk to each other across the room as you're playing the same game together

because it’s funny to tease chat that way

you’d be posting pictures on social media

that give off hints that you're with each other a lot

like, in one photo he’s wearing a hoodie

and the next day, you post a photo of you in that exact same hoodie

stuff like that

he also celebrates big and small achievements with you

wether it be you achieving them or him, you always celebrate together

eret:

matching. outfits.

STRAWBERRY DRESSES

PLATFORM HEELS

ahhhh chat would be going absolutely crazy at the fits you guys have sometimes

and you're always matching

as in always

he tells their stream that you have a matching crown like his

but that chat obviously can't see it on you because you don’t have a face-cam

she likes telling stories about you

like, memories they have of you two together

and he just always compliments you and praises you for your hard work on her streams

telling everyone how happy you make them

she also always invites you to join his streams because it means a lot to them that you're there :)

jack manifold:

jack is so excited about the fact that you're also a streamer/youtuber

it makes it easier to open up about your relationship online

because some people already knew you before you revealed you two were dating

though I feel like jack would kinda like the secrecy of your face online

just to brag to his audience about how he gets to see your face every day

but also because he likes that there’s more privacy for you

sometimes he’d pop into your room without knowing you were streaming/filming

and would just start talking to you while you giggled about how you were “kinda in the middle of something”

when jack realised what you meant, he’d hurry out of the room in an instant

you’d always be in each others chats/comments

showing what a supportive couple you were

he always raids you at the end of his streams if you’re streaming at the same time

tommyinnit:

tommy always forgets that you're a faceless streamer/youtuber

and is sometimes sooo close to blurting out something he shouldn't

because he’s so used to seeing you, he just kinda forgets that no one else can

you always have to send him a text to “sToP TalKIng AbOUt yOu” so he doesn't accidentally reveal something

that being said, he literally talks so much about you

again, I’m bringing up that time he said that tubbo is so clingy

he says the same thing about you

but he’s really the clingy one, and it’s pretty obvious

you catch him saying things like “yeah, y/n is really cool”

or “guys, please don't say stuff like that to y/n”

getting all serious and shit🥺

he asks you constantly if you can join his vc

even when you're busy, he’s like “pay. attention. to. me😤”

it’s really entertaining sometimes

especially when his streams just consist of you two bickering the whole time

calls you his favourite woman

tubbo:

ahhh tubbo is so sweet when it comes to you

like, when anyone mentions you he just starts smiling

and wants to tell everyone about you

even if they already know you from your channel

he just can't help but ramble on about you

especially to tommy

he replies to all of your tweets

and you reply to all of his

you always feature each other on your channels/streams

and share a celebratory cake when reaching subgoals

sometimes chat notices similarities in your layouts

like a colour change

or a similar pattern

posts a photo of your pinkies intertwined

wearing matching bracelets you made yourself

and everyone finds it super cute<3

ranboo:

he would encourage you so much to join his videos

and wear the same type of outfit to cover your face with

but with a sense of yourself in it so you'd look similar, but not exactly like each other

you'd be matching outfits so often

doesn't talk a lot about you on his streams

apart from mentioning how short you are

but on TWITTER

that's a whole other story

his twitter has practically just become a fan account of you

he’s always in your comments

just to leave a :)

or a supportive comment

if you ever wanted to do a face reveal

he would do it with you if it meant making you feel more comfortable about it

or less nervous

you’re just very lowkey and cute

___________________________________

tag list✰

@zayenz @terribletoothbat @0t0n1n @0125cm @yukiuheh @shinee-is-5-forever @regularnoceur @b01nk-b0w@christhebish@nutritious-emo-crackkk@bookishreid@giavanna-707 @reddiesmcdonalds@cosmins@vixxzial@autumnpleaves@paradigmax@meaganjm@shiningsunrises@moralofwalls@username1212131@gxldentaestuff@innitdream @televisionpresent38 @bubblyanis@zurami @highoffhockey @popinjaytaylor@196os@livsbaby@doubts-of-gold@bunlina@retrav @mcyt-is-my-life@aleaisntcreative @my-shitpost-of-writing @my-shitpost-of-writing @clownsdrowning @pissbabywastaken@shiningsunrises @tie-dyed-dumbass @death-by-rats@simpfordraco @bippity-boppity-boopa@neongreendaydreams  @vibin-by-myself@littlepotatos0w0@christhebish @pipp-poppz@btsiguess-kpop@prettysmallfries@hiyoko-kos@kenmxskitten@fudrudy@weepingartanimespy@rhino-zucchini@goldenstarofthunderclan@melonmarz@ubeicecreamisthebest@polaroidinurroom @ady-yoo@isimpforeveryone@edenhollandd@ineedtogetoutofhere@glitter-night @hamilsandersfam@mothheart-witch @wrong-exit@trashcanfullofdork  @hellfirepheonixx @marshmallow-babe@isimpforeveryone @ky50621 @randomcloud@wormie4k@dinonuggies50  @p4rty-t4ttoos@aspenthegremlin@book-of-anarchy @jeyacore @thetattooink@gogywasfound@millavalntyne@junob1ade@ubeicecreamisthebest@karida @i-have-paws-love@drvgonraja@eatasslikegrass@creamofweep@venusomega@lunarfedora@rowe-n @wreny24 @vincent-stargogh @floatingplanets​ @vernon-dursley​ @childhoodgrunge​ @fivxss @hexagonclash​ @crazyjuls12​ @littlebabysandboxburritos @shifted-dreams@lenamarie666 @reinyrei @sozvuchiy @weaslvy-mxlfoy​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @honeyglaazed @carisle-mikealson​ @ineedtogetoutofhere​ @twist3dtinkerbell@cracraforfandoms@angel-dazey @leia-starly @smiithys​ @squiddyyyy​ @c0wc0ww​ @animeweeb019284​ @m00-bl00m-k0le @stqrs-thoughts @jenlouvre @uhhhguiltypleasures​ @trappedchest​ @punzrights​ @trashgremlin36​ @cyberrsoot​ @elebeleb​ @k3nn3dis-crap​ @karlshoodies​ @rascal-in-banishment​

[darling-i-read-it]

Secrets

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 of stranger things, secret relationship 

Author’s Note: im really happy with how this turned out !! i hope you enjoy love <3 

Requested: by anon, omgomgomgomg!! so happy requests are open!! ok so i’d like to request eddie munson x reader where reader is like super girly and preppy, his total opposite and they’re in a secret relationship. sneaking around, having little rendezvous in empty corridors or the d&d room when no one is there. but when shit hits the fan and ed’s on the run she goes to dustin and them for help finding him and they’re surprised about the relationship or something (sorry i didn’t really know how to like wrap it up at the end lol but i hope it makes sense) ☺️☺️☺️

Summary: the request 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

No one expected Eddie Munson to actually be in a relationship in his technical last year of high school. He had been here longer than almost any of the other students but he still acted like he was that 17 year old kid you had passed by in the halls every once in a while. You were both seniors now and he knew all the teachers by their first names. He had taken so many classes that you were starting to think he could teach them. 

So it surprised you when you were paired together in one class and you just utterly fell head over heels for each other. It was easy at first, giggles over class notes and little pictures drawn over the lined paper. But then you were ignoring the assignments all together, something that Eddie was no stranger to. He preferred to just talk to you about your life anyway. The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. 

So when you started to make out under the bleachers, it wasn’t exactly a surprise to either of you. You had decided to keep your relationship a secret. You were just in such different crowds, it made sense to keep it on the down low for the time being. At least until you could figure out how much you really liked each other. 

“There are a lot of numbers on this dice,” you said, tossing it up into the air. You were sitting on the rug of his trailer. You were still wearing your school clothes, some of the school colors for spirit week. You even had your hair up and some glitter over your eyelids for extra effect. You had some girl friends help you out in the bathroom that morning. 

“That’s the whole point sweetheart,” Eddie said, going through the cupboards absentmindedly. “Can’t do much with just a six die.” He had some other papers out from his campaign. You had never actually seen him in action. Just afterwards when you would sneak off into the corner of a dark secluded room and explore each other for a bit. 

“Hey, you could count to six!” 

“You’re so cute.” He turned around on his heels, leaning against the counter now. “I do not know where I put the stuff for Chrissy.” You had actually suggested Eddie to Chrissy when you realized she was having some trouble sleeping in class one afternoon. You’ve been mutual friends with her for a couple years. You knew whatever Eddie gave her wouldn't be dangerous. 

“It’s around here somewhere. You want me to help?”

“No, it’s okay. You gotta go anyway, she’ll be here soon.” You nodded, standing up. You put his dice back where you had found it. He met you in the middle of the room to give you a fairly passionate kiss. He walked the fine line of leaving you longing and never leaving you unsatisfied. “Drive safe hm.” His lips were still against yours as he said it. You smiled, nodding, nudging his forehead with yours. 

“Give her a discount. If you find the stuff.” “I am a gentleman above all else.” You rolled your eyes and let him slip through your fingers. 

“See you tomorrow!” 

“See you then.” 

-

You woke up the next morning and the news was the first thing you comprehended. A high school student had died the night before of mysterious circumstances. And the area of the crime was where you were last night. 

Eddie’s trailer.

You drove out there first, skipping your very first day of school. You thought about how Eddie would be proud of you skipping. He had been trying to get you to do it for ages. But the police wouldn’t let you inside and Eddie’s uncle told you he had no idea where he was. You went to the school, though you knew he wasn’t there. 

You went to where he and the band practiced but they hadn’t seen him. You went to the last place you could think of; Dustin Hendersons. 

Ms. Henderson opened the door, a gentle smile on her face. 

“Oh my goodness! Who are you? You’re not here for Dusty are you?” You smiled sheepishly, shaking your head. 

“No, no. I was wondering if he was here though. I’m looking for my boyfriend, Eddie Munson.” Just as you finished saying it, Dustin came up from behind his mom. 

“You know where Eddie is?”

“No I was hoping he was here,” you said honestly. 

“Wait, did you say boyfriend? You and Eddie are dating?” You sheepishly nodded. It was as good a time as any to come out to the guys now. You just wanted to know if he was okay. 

“Yeah.”

“How long?” Dustin seemed half appalled, half amazed. 

“Couple weeks. Since the-”

“Pep assembly! I knew those weren’t bruises on his neck!”

“Dusty!” his mom chastised. You flushed, embarrassed. 

“So you don’t know where he is?” Dustin shook his head. 

“I was about to go looking for him. I just got a call from Max, saying he was with Chrissy last night.” You nodded, swallowing hard. 

“I know.”

“I’m gonna go talk to Max. You wanna check some other haunts and get back to us? I think we’re gonna go to Family Video and recruit Steve.” “Harrington?”

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. 

“Okay. I’ll get back to you if I find him.” You and he left, both of you waving halfheartedly at Ms. Henderson. 

-

Eventually you found yourself at his dealer's place. You should have thought of that first but you had been so preoccupied with wondering what the hell happened, your mind was too scattered to think straight. You opened the boat door up when you noted no one was there. You were really hoping not to run into any kind of unfamiliar druggies in here. 

Running into Eddie was ideal though. 

You knocked on the wall. 

“Eddie?” you whispered. “It’s-”

Eddie jumped up out of the rowboat, tossing the cover off him. You screamed, almost falling backwards. He screamed in response, causing both of you to clutch your chests. 

“What the hell Eddie?!” 

“I’m so sorry! I was so excited to see it was you!” He stumbled out of the boat, tripping over the side and then almost tripping over the dock. He threw his arms around you, breathing evenly for the first time in 24 hours. “Oh my fuck,” he whispered. “You will not believe the night I had.” 

“Dustin is looking for you. Everyone is looking for you, Eds.”

“And only you found me. That’s my girl,” he said against your hair. He held you tighter, determined not to let you go for the rest of time. 

“Tell me what happened.”

“You’ll need to sit down for that one.” He didn’t let you go. “Can I just…hold you for a second.” 

“Yeah. Yeah.” You held him back, burying your face into his hair. He smelled of sweat and cologne. 

“Thanks,” he whispered. He sounded so much like a child. You let him stay there for as long as he needed. 

---

Stranger Things Tag List: @dpaccione, @karasong @elisaa-shelby @purple-flamingo @trinswhimsys @valentina-luvs-u @demigirl-with-problems @chaotic-fangirl-blog @mads-weasley @alexxavicry @secret-obsessions-21-blog @mystic-writings @plumes-de-nuit @linkxneptune

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Hello! This is my first time ask to you. Saw your post for request, so here it is.

Steve x reader(ambiguous in size)AU, where Steve, Bucky, Nat and her are childhood best friends. Steve and reader start dating and too deep in love. After graduating high school, Brock Rumlow and Peggy Carter created so many miss understanding b/w Steve and reader (b/c they wanted them for each other) that led them to breakup.

I couldn't think of anything else. Please make it a happy ending with sprinkles of smut and lots of fluff. Maybe a glimpse of Rogers 👪 in the end.

a/n: hi!! sorry it took me some time to write this but here i am. i included their university life and the story is mainly based on that. i really really hope you like this story. thank you so much for sending in the request.

Steve Rogers x Reader

words: 3.3k

warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI) little smut, mention of sex, kissing, suggestive language, swearing, angst, mention of cheating (but not really) doubts, plotting to separate two people, fluff, nicknames, happy ending. College AU

“steve” (y/n) panted, as steve laid on top of her, foreheads touching. “i love you baby” steve said, he too was out of breath. “i love you too” she smiled lazily in the after sex glow. they cuddled to sleep, (y/n) nestled her face in steve’s chest while he gently stroked her back.

(y/n) always thinks how she got so lucky to be with someone as amazing as steve. they have grown up together. Steve, Bucky, Natasha and (y/n) were the best of friends since childhood. they went to the same school and luckily the same university, although they took different majors. Bucky and Nat are a couple since high school, (y/n) always liked Steve but she wasn’t sure if Steve saw her in that way. on the other hand , steve too liked her but didn’t expect (y/n) to like him back. two unaware fools in love.

bucky and nat tried to set them up but it was only during prom when they finally expressed their feelings. (y/n) felt so jealous when someone else asked Steve to be his date, she couldn’t help but come clean to steve about her feelings. Steve couldn’t believe it and was extremely delighted, he expressed his feelings back.

when they got to college, they were inseparable. always together. the whole group too, they were such good friends. it was fun, sneaking around in the university, kissing, making out, laughing, dancing but mostly studying. it was all fun, until it wasn’t.

until peggy carter and brock rumlow decided to break them apart. no they weren’t friends with each other but they had a common interest. that was separating steve and (y/n). peggy wanted steve, rumlow wanted (y/n). their common interest made them work together towards this devious goal.

at a party, peggy flirted endlessly with steve but he made it clear he wasn’t interested. when flirting wasn’t working peggy decided to dial it up a notch and started crying. she told steve how alone she felt, how lonely she is, and steve being the kind man he is, he genuinely felt bad.

“don’t cry peggy” he said. while peggy realised she was victorious in her step one. this was the perfect opportunity for peggy, (y/n)’s absence in the party played the key role. she was out with nat and they decided to have a girls night, just the two of them. bucky was too tired to join the party, steve too didn’t want to go but (y/n) suggested he should go, otherwise he will get bored. so he decided to drop by. if only he knew how the night will play out he would have chosen getting bored over that anytime.

peggy moved closer to steve, while rumlow was ready with his phone to click some pictures. the oldest trick probably and very simple too but mostly effective. that’s what they thought. “oh steve, i can’t go on like this anymore” peggy used her saddest voice possible accompanied with tears. she placed her hands on steve’s shoulders and steve flinched slightly but he decided to allow it considering how devasted peggy felt. “it will be alright” steve tried to reassure.

“i want to be loved steve, please” peggy said and before steve could say anything peggy pushed herself close enough to kiss steve, meanwhile rumlow clicked as many pictures as possible. “what the fuck, peggy.” steve said as he pushed her back. “i have a girlfriend, and i love her, i am not interested peggy, what you did isn’t acceptable, i am sorry that you are sad but that doesn’t give you the right to kiss me, i am not interested. please stay away from me in future” he said and stormed off the party.

peggy was upset because of how steve reacted but when her eyes met with rumlow and he gave her a thumbs up, peggy smirked. it was as only a matter of few days before their plan would finally work, before steve was alone and peggy could swoop in and get her chance.

steve couldn’t believe what happened. he was just trying to be kind. (y/n) on the other hand was having a blast with nat in their girls night out.

the next day steve had an early class so he decided to clear his mind and just focus on the class, he dropped a few texts to (y/n) saying he would neet after the class. (y/n) had only one class that day which was in the afternoon so she decided to hang out with nat and bucky who didn’t have much classes either. when they started getting a little handsy with each other (y/n) decided to give them a little space “okay lovebirds, maybe i should give you both some alone time, be careful kids.” (y/n) giggled and walked away “yes ma’am” the other two replied with mock salutes.

(y/n) decided to send a selfie to steve while walking down the corridor. “missing you stevie” she texted him. suddenly rumlow came out of nowhere. “fuck, you scared me” she rolled her eyes. “hey sweet cheeks, i have got something to show you.” (y/n) cringed at the nickname. “don’t call me that rumlow” he laughed. he took out his phone and showed her the pictures.

“thought these might interest you” he added. (y/n) didn’t understand what she was seeing when suddenly she realised it was steve because of the shirt he was wearing, she gifted him that, his face wasn’t clearly visible being smothered by peggy’s face. “what’s this?” rumlow laughed some more. “come on, you’re a smart girl. this needs no explanation” (y/n) honestly couldn’t believe what she saw, this can’t be true, it’s some trick, it’s photoshop, no matter how much she tried to think it’s fake, she could recognise steve anywhere. and that was clearly steve. “i don’t know what this is rumlow, all i know is that i trust my boyfriend completely” it did hurt a little to see the pictures but she trusts steve, she knows he won’t do anything to hurt her. rumlow said how steve is cheating behind her back and that she deserves better.

“look if you trust him so much, why don’t you just ask him why he kissed another girl? the one time you weren’t there he was hooking up with others, maybe this is what he does behind your back?” rumlow tried his best to plant the seed of doubt.

(y/n) won’t let those stupid pictures get the best of her, no. steve- steve must have a proper explanation. she will ask him. later that evening when they met in (y/n)’s room. steve wrapped her in his arms “hey, sweetheart.” he held her hands. she smiled. they talked about how their day was but none of them mentioned anything about the incident.

when it was getting late and steve was about to leave (y/n) decided to ask him, she was feeling a little uncertain because she thought steve will himself tell him everything but he didn’t. “stevie?” he looked at her waiting for her to finish. “how was the party yesterday?” she failed to ask him directly, she probably should have.

steve too should have just informed about what happened but he didn’t, he didn’t want (y/n) to feel bad when actually there was nothing to worry about. (y/n) is the love of his life and no one else. “it was boring without you all, not that fun.” he said, trying to be calm, and smiled.

(y/n) tried her best to smile back, without showing the whirlwind that was forming inside her. it was when steve left after kissing her goodnight that she realised she was suddenlty on the floor, with tears falling down her eyes. this can’t be happening.

she couldn’t sleep that night, doubts crippling her trust. steve didn’t say anything, why? so he is hiding it, hiding the kiss, was it just a kiss or…? no no stop thinking (y/n) just go to sleep.

the next day when she met steve, she was exhausted from crying and the lack of sleep. nat and bucky were there too. “honey you alright?” nat asked. “are you sick?” bucky asked. when (y/n)’s eyes met steve’s he could feel this was much more than a health issue.

“(y/n)” that’s all steve could say. “i am alright guys, i’ll see you all after my classes” with that she left and steve stood there looking at (y/n) walking away from him.

“sweetheart what-“ steve couldn’t finish, he went to her room as soon as their classes was over. “why? why didn’t you tell me?” she blurted out

steve looked down. “look (y/n) -“ again interrupted “no you look, steve. look what you are doing to us” she sat down on the edge of her bed. putting her face on her hands, steve kneeled down next to her “(y/n) i don’t know what you have heard, but please give me a chance to explain” when she doesn’t respond back, steve decides to continue and told her everything exactly as it happened.

when she finally looked up at him she said “you know it’s not that i don’t trust you, when i got to know about what happened, i was so sure that there must be something else, something wrong, that you love me and you would never cheat but when you didn’t say anything, even after i asked you- i just didn’t know what to believe.”

“i am sorry sweetheart,” he pleaded “it hurt steve, it hurt to see another woman kiss you.” his head shot up straight “see?” she told him about the pictures rumlow showed.

“wait rumlow?” his voice a little harsher than he intended “he is clearly interested in you don’t you get that?” (y/n) got up from the bed “how is that even relevant here, even if he is interested in me?” steve shook his head “it is relevant, he obviously wants you to think poorly of me” (y/n) can’t believe this is he really turning this thing towards rumlow? “steve it doesn’t matter if he showed me the pictures, it could have been anyone.” steve grew angry too. “oh it does matter, it does matter because that guy is just looking for an opportunity to get in your pants” the words just came out his mouth, maybe he went too far. it wasn’t (y/n)’s fault if brock rumlow is interested in her.

“wait so i saw you kissing someone else, i am the one who chose to trust you even after that whereas you hid the incident and now you are somehow making this about me? about rumlow being interested in me?” before steve could say anything she stopped him.

“no steve don’t come close, maybe- maybe i am the fool here, maybe you are actually trying to divert me from what you did.” she looked away. she couldn’t meet steve’s eyes anymore. “steve i think you should go now.” and that’s what he did. he nodded and went away.

things could have been different if they talked it out some more that night, if they told each other much they loved one another. but they didn’t. the following day when steve was sitting in the coffee shop inside the campus, peggy found him. steve was too sad to notice her take a place beside him. steve was sad and angry as well, mostly at himself, (y/n) was right it was unfair how he reacted, he let jealousy get the best of him, maybe the fact that he could lose (y/n) somehow scared him, scared him too much.

“steve” peggy said and as soon as he saw her he stood up to leave “no please, please i am sorry, listen to me once, i am so sorry.” she held his hand but as he looked back at her with a scowl, she removed her hand. “please just give a me chance to say sorry, i don’t know what came over me, i shouldn’t have done it.” and according to the sudden plan they formed, seeing the opportunity, rumlow brought (y/n) to the coffee shop exactly at that time, even though she was adamant she didn’t want to go. rumlow challenged her saying her boyfriend is nothing but a liar all along, that rumlow saw him with peggy many times and right now he saw them in the coffee shop.

(y/n) hesitantly went with rumlow and she was met with the sight of peggy holding steve’s hands. “see that? see your boyfriend being all sweet with another girl?” rumlow added poison with his words. (y/n) turned around and left.

steve didn’t say anything to peggy, he was angry, he nodded and left, but it was already too late. (y/n)’s trust was truly broken. steve thought about talking to his girlfriend again, but as if on cue, he received a text from her.

“maybe this isn’t working out steve.”

steve wasn’t expecting that. he quickly ran to her room. but what he saw made him angry, rumlow was outside her room door, holding a tub of ice cream, while (y/n) stood there with the door open. steve clenched his jaw but he didn’t go closer, he left. (y/n) just left him a text and now she was talking with rumlow? the guy who had been trying to get her for a long time? he couldn’t deal with it right now. he decided it’s best to leave. maybe it truly wasn’t working out.

“what do you want brock?” (y/n) asked. “i thought you would be upset sweets, got some ice cream for you, it will make you feel better.” (y/n) looked at the ice cream tub and then looked at rumlow’s face, there was no way she would take anything from him. “no, thank you” she shut the door on his face.

it had been hours but she didn’t even get a reply from steve. didn’t he even have the decency to send a reply? is this what he wanted all along? for (y/n) to walk out of their relationship?

it was later in the evening when nat came to see her, and (y/n) broke down into tears in front of her. steve too met bucky and told him everything.

neither bucky nor natasha could believe what happened, they tried to reason with their friends respectively but no, they didn’t want to listen.

maybe both needed some time, meanwhile the next day, nat and bucky decided to talk about the problem their friends were going through, and almost they started to fight themselves while trying to defend their best friends respectively. “wait wait nat, we shouldn’t fight, we should be the smart ones here okay? let’s try to go over the incidents one more time.”

after talking they realised how peggy and brock were magically present during those incidents, as if it was already planned. “wait buck? what if it was actually planned? it is a possibility” but it was strange because peggy and rumlow weren’t friends. “although thinking about whether it was planned or not probably won’t do any good right now, whatever happened is in the past, now we have to focus on the future, it has already been a few days and (y/n) is totally broken.” nat informed and bucky said how steve was very sad too.

“we will have to help them understand that they truly love each other.” they tried talking to their friends again but they didn’t listen.

A month went by, steve and (y/n) hadn’t talked. they were sad, angry and the same time missed each other so much. after bucky and nat requested them for a whole month they finally decided to talk. nat had already explained to (y/n) everything that happened and how it could really have been pre-planned. bucky informed steve about the same.

On the other hand both peggy and rumlow were shocked that even though their plan of breaking them apart had worked, the other part of the plan, where they could win them over respectively, failed completely. Neither was interested even a little.

“hi” steve said walking in (y/n)’s room, he was talking to her after a month, it felt so strange, (y/n) was always there for him, but now when he was devastated he didn’t have her beside him. and honestly (y/n) shared the same emotions about steve “hi steve” she replied.

they didn’t talk for some time till steve decided to break the silence. “how are you?” steve asked with sad eyes. as soon as the question left steve’s mouth (y/n) looked at him and started crying. steve came closer and took (y/n) in his arms instantly. doesn’t matter if they hadn’t talked in a month, he cannot see his favourite girl that upset. he hugged her close and she held on to his shirt tightly, as if he would go away if she didn’t.

when (y/n) calmed down, she wiped her tears and started explaining her side, everything that happened, everything that was shown to her, everything that broke her trust. she also said that nat has already told her steve’s version. “i just- i wish we had talked about it some more, i am sorry.” she said. “baby, i am sorry, i am the one who should be sorry, i was too afraid to say anything but i should have just told you, i know your trust was strong, i just didn’t want you to worry, and after that somehow everything went wrong. although now that i think about it, as bucky and nat were saying, it could have very well been a plan. a plan to separate us.”

(y/n) hugged steve again. “i missed you steve, so much, i love you” steve pulled her into a loving kiss. “i love you too baby, so much. i missed you, sorry honey, sorry i didn’t tell you in the first place, and about how i acted later, i was scared of losing you, and this last month has been so tough, i don’t wanna lose you again my love, please can we give our relationship one more chance?” he too had tears in his eyes at this point.

“yes stevie, yes please. i want to be with you, i am so sorry too, i should have talked to you face to face and not just leave a text. but now i don’t want to lose this chance of being together again.” he pulled her in another kiss, this was more passionate. they missed being close to each other, touching each other.

when they pulled apart, they didn’t need to verbally communicate what they both wanted at that moment. soon clothes were flying across the room and fell on the floor. (y/n) and steve were on her bed, trying to make up for lost time. they were both needy, they needed each other, needed their love, touch, warmth.

“oh steve” (y/n) moaned as steve brought her to another release, third or fourth? she didn’t care. “you’re so beautiful baby girl. fuck” he groaned as he felt his own release approach. he pulled out and released on her abdomen. after cleaning them up, steve joined (y/n) in bed again. “i missed you.” steve said as he pulled her into an embrace “i missed you too” she nestled her face into his neck.

the next morning was warm and soft, they both realised how happy they were to get back together, to be with the person they loved. both bucky and nat were so happy too. they all went out to celebrate.

right now when (y/n) was lying next to her husband, snuggled up together, she smiled thinking about the best decision of her life, the decision to be in love with steve rogers. and that little rough patch during their university life? well that just made their love stronger, made their relation stronger. she smiled and pressed a soft kiss on the tip of steve’s nose. her husband opened his eyes and smiled back and pulled her even closer. “go to sleep now mrs. rogers”. she touched her belly softly, maybe she can wait till the next morning to tell steve the good news. “yes sir” eventually they both drifted off to sleep.

[softykooky]

the habits of a broken heart.

☾ genre : soulmates au, unrequited love, art student!JK, english student!Y/N, angst, fluff, subtle enemies to lovers

☾ pairing : jeon jungkook x reader

☾ summary : jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. 

alternatively,

“You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

☾ word count: 26.3k (my biggest one yet!)

☾ author’s note: this took forever oh my gosh! i really hope you like it! it’s my first time writing such a big single piece, and trying a different style. thank you so much for your support, always! please let me know what you think ♡

The first time he had his heart broken, Jeon Jungkook had been 13 years old. He was fresh out of middle school and so ready to face his freshman year with an impressionable mind and plenty of voice cracks to earn him months worth of teasing. You see, at the age of 13, Jungkook wasn’t something to swoon over. He had yet to grow into his ears and Dr. Park assured him that his braces would be off as soon as she could get them. He was a little lanky and a bit too reticent to be considered social. So when a girl in his grade comes up to him, nervous and stuttering, and asks him to go to the heavily romanticized homecoming dance, Jungkook has already come to the conclusion that she might be his soulmate, even if he was far too young to get his mark yet. 

Her name was Mina, and Jungkook is confronted with this memory every time he visits home and his mother makes the family flip through the photo albums dating back to his high school years. He grimaces every time he sees the picture of them together. Him in a pink button-up to match her offensively ugly ruffled taffeta dress. 

Mina broke up with him three months after that picture was taken, through one of her friends no less and in front of his entire gym class. Jungkook couldn’t remember how long he cried for while he felt the pain from his first heartbreak would never go away, regardless of how much time passes. He held onto his mother and sobbed out the agony and humiliation of Mina not wanting to be his girlfriend anymore, and how he had lost his soulmate before he even knew it was her. His mother assured him that without the mark, there was no way to be sure and that there was hope. But back then, all Jungkook could think of was ways to avoid Mina the next day, especially when they sat next to each other in 3rd period biology.  

At 13 years old, Jungkook thought he would never find love again. 

He is 18 when he stands alongside his parents in a pale examination room and awaits his destiny. He’s leaving for college the next day, yet the only thing that’s making him nervous is the mark that will inevitably appear on his wrist in the next few minutes. The same one he would find on his soulmate’s, and Jungkook wonders if there is the possibility of scaring everyone away when the first thing he’ll ask on a date is: can I please see your wrist? 

To say the least, Jungkook is petrified. Because that mark on his wrist is going to serve as a constant reminder of his missing piece, and Jungkook knows he’ll always feel lacking until he finds them. It’s a crescent moon. Small and black and nestled comfortably on his skin. He knows many times the marks don’t have any correlation with the couples, but Jungkook wonders if you are an astrologist. Or an astronaut. Or just had a weird affinity for the moon. He smiles when they congratulate him and can’t stop himself from thinking that he might be in love with you already. Wherever you are. When he leaves for university, he feels less lonely when there is a crescent moon to accompany him. 

Contrary to the beliefs of his 13-year old self, Jungkook does fall in love again. Hard. This time, it was a girl with brown hair and big eyes and a smile so pretty he could see it from across a crowded room. She was a grade below him; a frazzled college freshman with no clue to where her lecture hall was, and he: a sophomore who had a compulsion of changing his major every other month. When he met her, it had been chemical engineering and three weeks before that was film composition. Her name was Yoojung, 18 years old while he was 19.

 Her soulmate mark is a single star, and even though he knows she is not his soulmate, he can’t help but to think how perfectly their marks complement each other. How they would make a perfect night sky. 

They had met at a frat party, no less, and the combination of cheap booze and bad hiphop music had made her look so incredibly gorgeous under the dim lighting. They had their first kiss in a random person’s living room, highly intoxicated and much too irresponsible and Jungkook had barely even remembered it in the morning until she showed up at his doorstep and invited herself in. Yet it wasn’t too long before he made a perfect space for Yoojung in his life.

 Each day after his physics lecture, he’d go to her dorm and they’d chat over breakfast until she had economics at 10 o’ clock. After she was done, he’d insist that they go get a greasy hamburger at the joint his friends took him to when they got high and, she’d end up dragging them both to the health food restaurant that prided themselves on only using organic. Leave it to Jungkook to find himself a vegan girlfriend. 

Sometimes though, when he looks at Yoojung, his mind drifts to his actual soulmate and a little flower named guilt blooms in his chest. But he is so young and his other half could be anywhere in the world, so Jungkook thinks there is no harm in allowing himself to indulge in a little affection. These days, it wasn’t completely abnormal for soulmates to part ways, and when Yoojung is in his arms, Jungkook likes to think that his soulmate would understand. They would want him to be happy. In the middle of synchronizing their busy student schedules and sneaking in quick kisses through cramming for finals, he had found it unnervingly easy to fall in love with her. 

Deeply and blindly in love. 

Yoojung brought him home to her family on fall breaks and the occasional winter vacation and Jungkook had melded perfectly into their dynamic. The son I never had, her father would tell him over the dinner table while her mother constantly made sure his plate was piled high. Her little sister was visibly in love with him, and would ask Yoojung where he was every time she came home from university, yet avoiding him at all costs when he was there. 

Jungkook’s own family, however, was a different story. To put it delicately, they had liked it more when he came home by himself and left her at school. It had put a strain on their relationship sure, but at the end of the day, Jungkook loved her. A simple love. 

Every day he remembers that their marks do not match. But if this is love and he feels like he is on cloud 9 with every moment they are together, Jungkook begins to doubt if the universe’s will is truly divine and successful. Maybe Yoojung was his soulmate and it did not matter what was on their wrists. 

He loved her intensely, and she did him. She was the first thing on his mind when he woke up and manifested in his dreams when he slept at night. To Jungkook, Yoojung could do no wrong. Like some sort of divine being or angel that the heavens sent just for him, and he found himself thinking maybe he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life beside her. 

But he would come to learn that the higher the climb...the harder the fall. 

Jungkook and Yoojung were together for the better part of 4 years before she cheated on him with a guy that she’d supposedly met a couple weeks ago. When Jungkook screams at her asking why she had been disloyal, Yoojung shows him her wrist. Her single inked star. 

“I found my soulmate, Jungkook. And I love you so much, you know I do. I didn’t know how to tell you so I…”

The rest of her words fade into white noise and all Jungkook can do is look at her and commit every detail to memory as he feels her fade farther away. Her teary and remorseful brown eyes. Her plush lips. The fan of her eyelashes and the mole on the side of her temple. He’ll never get to see her like this again. 

“I was ready to be with you, soulmate or not. I know it’s not fair but I wanted the same from you”, he whispers, falling down on the couch and burying his face in his hands. 

“Soulmates be damned, the universe was wrong. I was so hideously in love with you. How could you not at least tell me when you met him?” Jungkook feels his heart collapsing in on itself with every word of resignation. Of burgeoning acceptance. Yoojung can only mirror his desolate expression and stares down at the star on her skin.

 Jungkook wishes it were a moon. 

“Just go, Yoojung.” 

It would have hurt less if it was only a one night stand with a stranger she did not know the name of. He was in love and spineless enough to move past a one night stand. However, Yoojung had found her soulmate and fallen in love with him. Jungkook had merely acted as a placeholder for the real deal to come along and sweep her off her feet. 

This time he doesn’t cry. Just stares out the window of his living room and wonders what it would be like to disappear altogether. When the door is slammed shut, and he is left to nurse his aching soul, Jungkook apologizes in advance to the person that shares the same mark on their wrist as him. He no longer believes that soulmates exist. 

When Jungkook looks back at his 13 year old self with the innocent construct of what heartbreak feels like, he wants to laugh and maybe slap that stupid boy upside the head. Yoojung had destroyed him. Destroyed the innocent and starry-eyed person that he’s tried so hard to preserve. Destroyed his vulnerability and bright outlook on life and in their place, cultivated walls of rock and steel meant to keep everyone out and him safely tucked inside. In her wake, Yoojung left behind a shell of a man who pushed his emotions so deep he became numb and forgot what it was like to feel. 

So Jungkook does what he always does to push away the hurt. He changes his major; to art history this time. He stacks up bracelets on his wrist to forget the mark of a moon. He scrapes up his rainy day money and treats himself to the most expensive pair of Saint Laurent boots he’s ever worn. He tests the limits of the human liver, and takes advantage of the biceps and jawline he’s acquired since high school to establish a reputation. 

To his friends, Jungkook remained raucous and always down to order infinite rounds of shots until he couldn’t see straight. To those that looked even closer, Jungkook was so completely shattered he didn’t even feel it anymore. 

The second time he had his heart broken, Jungkook was 23. He promised himself he wouldn’t let it happen again. 

◐

“For the last time, Jimin, I’m not going to give you a blowjob so you can pay for my student loans.”

You don’t know how many times you’ve had this conversation with your roommate. Most of the time, it was convenient to have a roommate whose parents were loaded and sent him monthly installments that looked more like small loans than allowances. You knew he just wanted to help. Heck, he probably would be willing to pay them off for you without the promiscuous favor, but you had made it clear to Jimin that you wouldn’t be riding off of his charity. 

“Ugh, Y/N you’re really no fun”, he sighs, falling backwards onto your twin-sized bed and feigning devastation. You reward his melodrama with a giggle, ruffling your hands through his fried hair. Jimin had a knack for changing his hair color as quickly as his mood. 

You look at the bill that’s staring back at you from your computer screen, and it feels like it’s just reached out and punched you in the face. “Hey do you think it’s a common mistake for bank tellers to add a few too many zeroes?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m rationalizing as a self-defense mechanism.” Sometimes it was annoying that your roommate had a degree in psychology. Then again, Jimin was making more money than you and your degree in English. 

You sigh deeply and look up at the ceiling in attempts to quell your tears of frustration. And also because it is a plea to whoever is up there controlling your destiny: please I’m begging you. Melt my debt away. 

You and Jimin sit in comfortable silence and he plays with the hem of your worn comforter while you scroll through the emails you have been ignoring in your inbox. You want to smash your head in at all the deadlines. Times like these, there is one thing that brings you comfort and always has since you turned 18. 

The quaint little crescent moon that sits right atop your radius. 

You had a habit of pressing your thumb against it and feeling your pulse against the mark, stupidly wondering if your soulmate’s heartbeat has synched up with your own. If he was out there somewhere, touching his mark and wondering the same about you. He was taking his sweet time, that’s for sure. Jimin sees your nervous tic and sighs again.

“You’re so hopelessly romantic it makes me want to barf, Y/N.” You scowl at his words and chuck a pillow at his unsuspecting face. 

“I don’t understand you, Jimin. Your soulmate is out there and you’re not the slightest bit curious? You don’t want to do anything extra to find them?” Jimin looks at you with a knowing smile.

“That’s exactly it, though. I know they’re my soulmate and I’ll find them when the time is right. So why worry about it? It’s better not to force anything.” His statement is followed up with a grin and his fingers reach out to pinch your cheeks. This was the dynamic of your friendship. He is easy-going and flows like a careless river. You’ve read one too many books to not vie and daydream for the moment you lock eyes with your soulmate. 

Your mom always said that you’ll know just from a look. It’s like getting hit over the head with a ray of sun, she said. Like suddenly their eyes are the only eyes you ever want to look into again. Since then, you’ve dreamt for the day you find someone with that same moon on their wrist. For now though, you had more immediate concerns more along the lines of crippling debt. 

“What do I do, Jimin? Should I be a stripper?” He laughs and the thought makes you groan. You couldn’t even walk in heels, much less try to dance or look like you didn’t have two left feet. Stripper life just wasn’t for you. 

“Hm...I could call in a few favors for you at the office. Get you an internship or secretary position.” 

“Maybe. Too much nepotism. Your father owns the office you work at”, you remind him, and his eyebrows crease further in thought. God, maybe you do have to be a stripper.

“Wait!” Jimin yelps so suddenly you almost fling the computer off your lap. 

“I think I know someone. He’s been looking for a model for his art portfolio or something, and he said he’s willing to pay.” Jimin reaches for his phone and his thumbs type up a storm while you watch from the sideline. 

“I think he mentioned it’s about a month-long project. You’d just have to be on call whenever a stroke of genius arrives.” 

“That sounds great! I’m an amazing model!” you crow, to which Jimin giggles again.

“The several candids I have in my camera roll tell a different story, Y/N.” Naturally, he receives another pillow to the face. But you follow up with a cheery kiss to his cheek as you rejoice in the new opportunity for cash flow by a celebratory dance, which looks more like a wiggle when you remain seated on your bed. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, you chirped, “I owe you one.”

“Hey...I know how you can repay me.”

 When you look towards him, his eyebrows are raised inquisitively and there’s a devilish smirk on his lips.

Jimin gets a third pillow to his face that day. 

◓

Jungkook’s favorite type of arguments to get into is whether Neo-classicism or post-impressionism had the most impact on European art and architecture. Call him a snob, but he loves to prattle on about Degas and Caillebotte until his opponent tires or concedes out of pure exhaustion. Jungkook regards it as a battle strategy: bore your enemy so that they stop fighting. 

He’s in the middle of a heated debate with his classmate from graduate school when he receives a phone call from Park Jimin. Now, Jungkook has no idea how or when Jimin became an installment in his life, or how he’s roped his way into his inner circle. He just remembers waking up one day with a killer hangover and finding that there was a pink-haired stranger lying on his floor. When he tried to shoo him out, the stranger shoved a wad of money in his shirt pocket, muttering “just five more minutes”, and Jungkook was in no position to deny easy cash. Jungkook now considers Jimin one of his close friends. 

“What’s up, Jiminie?” He laughs into the microphone. 

“I told you not to call me that, you brat. I’m older than you.” 

“I’m taller than you.”

“My dick is bigger.”

“I-okay fine you got me there.” He hears Jimin wheeze over the line as he tries to rein himself in to say what he needs to say. 

“In all seriousness, though. I have a proposition for you.” Jimin lilts in a mischievous tone, which makes Jungkook nervous enough to get up from the café table he had been sitting at with his friend and careen to a quieter corner. 

“Shoot.”

“Okay, so you know how you were telling me about your portfolio for the gallery. The one you have to submit by the end of the season? How you needed a model on call 24/7 in case inspiration struck?” 

Jungkook wants him to spit it out because he has been searching high mountains and low valleys for someone that would be willing to be his muse for a month or two. Constantly at his beck and call so he can finish this damn portfolio and get his name out there in the art world. Maybe start debating post-impressionism with the cream of the crop. 

“I think I’ve found someone to do that for you.” Jungkook exhales in relief at his words.

“She’s my roommate and she’s super low on cash and unemployed with a bachelor’s in English literature, so she’s got time to spare.” Perfect. That way, Jungkook can call her whenever he needs to.

“That’s amazing, Jiminie. Can she meet me at the art building tomorrow at noon? We can start right away.” Jungkook breathes through the phone, a small weight coming off his shoulders now that another thing had been accomplished. One less thing he had to worry about on the journey to his goal. Jimin confirms the plans and they exchange pleasantries before Jungkook hangs up as the man on the other line starts screaming about his burning lunch on the stove. 

Jungkook catches sight of the mark on his wrist when he looks down, and quickly rearranges his bracelets so that it is once again covered to his eyes. Out of sight and out of mind. 

The gallery portfolio had been a thorn in his side. It had been months in the making and if he allows himself to reminisce, Jungkook remembers the nights he and Yoojung stayed up until dawn and talked about his blossoming interest in art. How he wanted a space of his own to display his works. Back then, she listened to him with stars in her eyes and basked in the afterglow of post-coital cuddling, promising that she would help him achieve it. 

His heart sinks at the memory of the imprint of her tresses of hair spilling on his bedspread. He burned those sheets the second she left. 

Jungkook represses his intrusive thoughts about Yoojung and wills her to get out of his head. He forces it down until it feels like he’s just dumped ice water over his heart and vomited out any semblance of emotion. He makes his way back to the cafe table with a sly smile that hides the internal ache he’s promised himself to never let anyone suspect of. 

“So what were you saying about Renoir’s Moulin de la Galette?”

◑

The art building is situated besides a library, with a bakery flanking its left. Two years spent at the university, and you’ve never once stepped foot there. Maybe it was the daunting abstract sculpture on the front lawn or the prejudices you held against annoying art snobs on their high horses, but you often found yourself subconsciously avoiding the space in intimidation. 

“Okay, Y/N, you’re going to do this so you can pay off your loans”, you whisper under your breath, words meant for your ears and no one else’s. “And if he asks you to pose nude, you run the opposite direction.” 

It was easy to get lost in the building. For art students that know how to draw, they really took advantage of abstractionism to make the most confusing map you had ever seen in your life. Luckily, with some direction from the vapid front desk secretary and some intuition, you were able to to find room 62B. You don’t think you’ll be able to forget the number 62B if you tried, Jimin had screamed it to you so many times as you left the apartment. 

The door soundlessly opens with a nudge of your hand and you stick your head inside.

“You know when Jimin told me he found me a model, he didn’t mention her lack of punctuality.” His voice is calm and subdued with no lingering annoyance, even if his words are uncourteous. You whip around to him and the first sight you see of Jeon Jungkook is merely a tuft of brown hair behind a vast canvas. And some expensive looking leather boots that anchor his feet to the ground. 

You clear your throat and approach with an outstretched hand and the shiniest smile you can muster. 

“I’m Y/N. Jimin’s roommate. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You can call me Jungkook.”

It is when he steps out from behind the canvas that you finally understand what your mother meant when she said meeting your soulmate feels like getting hit over the head with a ray of sunshine. You can’t describe it any other way, but that’s exactly what it feels like. Like the air becomes so sweet in your lungs it turns to viscous honey. Like suddenly the person standing in front of you is Valentine, encapsulated. 

You know he feels it too, yet you don’t know why he forces himself to remain blasé, and if you hadn’t seen his widened eyes and heard the gasp from his lips you would have never suspected anything at all. Stranger courtesy is abandoned and you forcefully grab his wrist, turning it over to find his mark while pulling up your sleeve to reveal your own. 

A little black crescent moon.

Right on the pulse point.

Just like your’s. 

When you finally muster up the nerve to look into his eyes again, you wonder if it is healthy for the human heart to beat so fast and so thunderously it feels ready to jump out of your chest. Jungkook, however, still wears that same expression on his face. Flat and cold, not even a glimmer in his eyes. He stares at you disinterested and wrenches his wrist from your grasp. 

“Wait, Jungkook...aren’t you….”, you sputter through a desperate smile, “aren’t you happy?” He stays silent and trains his attention on the canvas in front of him, but you can see the conflict that swirls in his iris. 

“I’ve been looking for you for so long! And I’ve finally found you. In the art building no less, just my luck that-”

“Y/N, I don’t know what you expect from me but I’m not looking for anything right now.” 

There were no objectively ugly words. But you think the ones that have just spewed from Jungkook’s lips come pretty close. They stoke a fire in your chest.

“What do you mean? We’re soulmates”, you faltered, sinking deeper into confusion as you stare at the unaffected man in front of you, whose only concern is the conglomerate of paint on his palette. 

Jungkook sighs monotonously. Almost as if he had better things to do than be here.

“It’s only a mark on your wrist. And we just happen to have the same one. Amazing that you still think somehow one single person was made entirely just for you.” His words are bored and he doesn’t even have the decency to look you in the eye when he speaks. You think you might want to punch him if you weren’t so speechless.

“Look”, he sighs as if you were inconveniencing him, “I’m not going to sugarcoat it and tell you that I’m the one you’ve been looking for this whole time. We have the same mark, but...I’m not the guy you want.”

“B-But...I’m your soulmate. We-we’re made for each other.”

Jungkook scoffs harshly, and you want to sink into the ground. “That’s just a silly myth.” 

“So you don’t...believe in soulmates?” The words felt wrong to say when all your life, finding your soulmate felt like the ribbon at the end of the finish line. But here he was now, and you felt so small under his gaze. Like you weren’t meant to be there and standing in the same room with him was a concoction for heartbreak.

“No.”

Jungkook’s syllable pangs in your ear, and you think it might be your least favorite sound. Then you leave. And if it was hard for you to meet your soulmate - the person who you’re destined to be with - who doesn’t believe in you, then walking away from him was a different cross to bear. 

You take the bus home and ignore the glare of strangers when you burst into tears at a red light, and cry the rest of the way back. Your mother hadn’t described this. She prosed on and on about the feeling one gets after finding a soulmate but never mentioned to you how it feels when you find out they want nothing to do with you. What do you do when you realize the person you’ve been chasing for forever has been trying to run away at the same time? 

Jimin holds you together that night on your bedroom floor, while you break apart and scratch at the moon on your wrist until your skin breaks. He listens to the words you sputter; as much as he can decipher when they are drowned out by the painful sound of your sobbing. Jungkook’s beliefs bleed into your consciousness. Perhaps he is right and perhaps there is no such thing as true soulmates, and the marks are obsolete. 

However, when you fall asleep in your friend’s arms from the physical fatigue of violent crying and the sheer mental exhaustion of meeting Jeon Jungkook, your mind comes to a more painful conclusion. 

A more truthful conclusion.

Your soulmate only needed to meet you to decide that he did not want you.

◒

Jungkook doesn’t believe in soulmates. He thinks they’re a stupid coy to give people false hope. An illusion to feign happiness and to take Yoojung away from someone she genuinely loved. Though in the hours of the night, when he is by himself and the bed feels too big for one body, Jungkook wonders if there is truly a reason why someone has an identical moon on their wrist. But he is still so broken and unhealed from the wounds Yoojung left behind.

 So instead of soulmates, he thinks about what she must be doing. If she’s eating well. If she’s moved in with her own soulmate and if they’re happy together. Jungkook is an involuntary masochist and he pays for it with every pillowcase that becomes stained with his tears. 

He sighs out an expletive after downing a shot of whiskey, relishing in the familiar burn as it slides down his throat. Alcohol doesn’t seem to be working efficiently, though. He’s only barely tipsy after years in college building tolerance, and he can still see your face each time he blinks. Like you are imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Jungkook wonders why Jimin had cancelled on the group tonight. 

There is a little devil called remorse and it stands atop his shoulder, unseen by everyone but him, and Jungkook decides he will get rid of it by calling another round of shots. From his seat in the dirty booth, he can see Min Yoongi and his soulmate practically dry humping on the dance floor. If anyone asks him if he ever gets jealous seeing soulmates happy and in love, he’ll laugh in their face and tell them he pities people like that. People that are so blinded by the system. But loneliness is a stern mistress and it makes him think of you. How lovely the moon looks on your wrist. How your hand felt so warm when it caressed against his skin. 

He tips his head back again. Vodka this time.

“Dude, are you okay?” 

To his right comes Kim Taehyung, designated driver extraordinaire, and he looks at Jungkook with friendly concern laced with amusement. Jungkook nods contentedly. 

“Soulmates are so bullshit, Tae”, he snickers, fingers tracing the rim of the shot glass and smirk on his face to mask the bitterness of both the alcohol and his heart. Taehyung spares a knowing glance, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder with the weight of knowledge of Jungkook’s past. 

The night is young and so is he. He drinks until he can no longer taste the liquor and forgets altogether about what had happened only a couple of hours before. Until the crescent mark on his skin just looks like a shapeless black blob, and it makes him smile. He thinks he likes it better that way. 

Taehyung drops him home and personally tucks him into bed while he is still in jeans and his shirt smells like the bar. His sleep is dreamless that night. When the morning comes and his friends tease him about how he begged Taehyung not to leave, Jungkook will laugh and blame the alcohol for his foggy memory. He won’t tell them that he does remember, and that he was only grasping at any warm body to soothe his aching loneliness.

◐

Usually when he first opens his eyes in the morning, Jungkook is thinking about the next class he has to attend and if he is late (which is usually most of the time). This morning, albeit morbidly hungover, Jungkook thinks of the apple strudels they sell at the bakery next to the art building. Mrs. Kim always gets the pastry to filling ratio just right. But when he opens the door with a jubilant smile on his face and the scent of baked goods already in his nostrils, Jungkook has a feeling apple strudels will have to wait. 

There you are. In all your messy-haired glory, huffing like a caged bull in the doorway of his apartment, fiery gaze directed completely at him and all he can think to say is:

“How do you know where I live?” Jungkook schools his face expressionless in your presence. He hopes this will discourage you, but it only makes you angrier. 

“Park Jimin”, you snarl. 

Of fucking course, it’s always Park Jimin. Jimin who drunkenly sleeps in his bedroom and now Jimin who is leaking his address to any stranger.

“Um”, Jungkook stammers and takes a step back, “what are you doing here? Didn’t I get my point through yesterday?” He can see the statement catching you off guard, and the fury in your eyes dwindles to dejection. Only for a millisecond though, before you are aiming your wrath at him once again. 

You take a deep breath. “What is wrong with you?” 

Jungkook can think of a lot of answers to that query. He opts to interpret it as a rhetorical question and keep his mouth shut. 

“You just...found your soulmate! I’m your soulmate! And you don’t even want to get to know me? At all?”, you scream exasperatedly. Jungkook catches the gaze of a middle aged lady who is not-so-discreetly staring at the two of you, and pulls you inside his apartment by your arm. If you weren’t so frustrated, you would have been flustered at the physical contact. 

“Listen. Soulmates don’t end up together all the time. I’ve told you I’m not really interested in anything right now and it’s not a priority”, he takes a breath through his passionate monologue, “and I’m sorry that that’s not something you expected, but I….don’t want a soulmate.”

Maybe...he just doesn’t want you. 

When he says them out loud to a living breathing person, Jungkook realizes how cruel it sounds. He can see it in the way your eyes have become glossy under his living room lights and the way you shrink into yourself as self-defense against his blows. He rationalizes that he’d rather tell you the truth than lie to you now, only to hurt you later. Really, he’s doing you a kindness. Right?

You turn your back to him to gather your thoughts, and wipe the tears that you refuse to let him see. The salty drops sting the raw skin of your wrist after last night, and you are brutally reminded of the current reality. His brutal honesty makes you want to abandon all hope, but you were a woman with a plan. You came here for a reason, not to just lose your temper in your soulmate’s apartment and tell him what you really thought about him.

“I have a proposition for you”, you asserted calmly, staring Jungkook in the eye as he remains unbothered. 

“Now I reckon something’s happened to you to make you lose all your faith in soulmates, so I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Your eyebrows furrow when you speak focusedly.

“We don’t have to be together. That’s your will. But…”, you hesitate, pushing past the uncertainty and fear of another rejection from Jungkook, “will you let me at least try? You don’t have to promise anything. Can we just start as friends?” 

Naturally, Jungkook wants to shoot down your offer, kick you out of his apartment, and pretend like he never met anyone by the name of Y/N. Call it divine intervention but when he looks at you, pleading for any semblance of connection, he feels a tug at his heart strings. So Jungkook makes another promise to himself. He would let you “try”, whatever that entails. But there was no virtual possibility of letting you any closer than necessary. 

You both stand in contemplative silence before he lets out a resigned sigh. “On one condition”, he responds slowly, but there is already a premature grin growing on your face and you don’t think you could stop it even if you tried.

“You still have to be my model for the art portfolio.”

You agree before he even gets to take another breath. 

“Deal.” 

When you finally make your way out of Jungkook’s apartment, parting ways with an awkward number exchange and a ‘see you later’, there is a simultaneous feeling of hope and desolation. The optimism for Jungkook combines with the insecurity that perhaps you, just as you are, is not nearly enough to make someone fall in love. Especially someone who disregards their soul connection to you. 

You walk back to your apartment with a heavy heart that warms with embers of determination. Jeon Jungkook was an enigma. A Bastille fortress of self-defense mechanisms and destructive tendencies, and you know that there is unresolved pain. Call it a soulmate instinct or something, but you see it in his eyes. You see it in the way his face begs to show emotion but his mind refuses to acknowledge. 

You know Jungkook is not obligated to accept you after the dust settles, much less fall in love with you. Under the peach blossoms of the campus sidewalk, you make a promise anyway.  To yourself and to your soulmate and the silly little mark on the inside of your wrist. Even if he does not love you, you vow to help Jungkook learn to love himself.

◓

When you are harshly woken up at 5:30 in the morning, the last person you expected to be blowing up your phone was Jeon Jungkook. If it weren’t for the pure exhaustion seeping through your bones, you would have been excited about your soulmate calling you. Alas, slumber was your soulmate now. Jungkook would have to step down. 

On the other side of the paper thin wall, Jimin is frustratedly banging from his room, your ringtone reverberating throughout the entire apartment. You pick up his call without even opening your eyes.

“Hello?” 

“Y/N I need you to come to my apartment as soon as you can.” There is no sleepiness in his voice. Just clean and cold like it always is and he has hung up before you get the chance to scold him for waking you up at this unholy hour. You’re about to give him a piece of your mind but you remember he is paying you very handsomely for your efforts, and reluctantly drag yourself out of bed to call an uber. Thank god he doesn’t live too far away otherwise you’ll stick a foot through his canvas for the transportation bill. 

The front of Jungkook’s apartment door is strangely therapeutic, and you find yourself falling asleep standing up after you’ve rung the doorbell. Either time passes too slowly when you are sleep-drunk or Jungkook moves to get the door as quickly as your grandfather does. Whatever the case, you are about to pass out on his doorstep if he doesn’t come soon.

“Y/N, why are you just standing there? The door has been open.” 

“Jungkook. Why are you making me do this so early?”, you yawn, pushing inside the apartment. 

Jungkook takes in your discombobulated appearance, and almost wants to laugh. You were still in your pajamas, and the bun on your head now looked more like a heaping blob that drooped down your temple. It was obvious that you had just rolled out of bed and he almost feels bad for disturbing your sleep, but he does not decide when his strokes of inspiration spontaneously appear. 

The living room is bombarded with Jungkook’s art supplies and stray canvases, and you take note of the clay sculpting table that blends in as furniture next to his kitchen. You plop yourself down on the stool across from Jungkook’s easel, eyes still half closed and impossibly tired.

 In this moment, Jungkook wipes the fact that you are his soulmate from his mind. He needs to do the portfolio. That is all he’s keeping you around for, and the only reason he agreed to your plan was so that you would remain his art model. 

In the silence of his makeshift art studio, Jungkook paints whatever comes to his mind, referencing your figure on the stool for the curves he can never get right without a model and need for a human presence to translate onto his canvas. You become more lucid as time goes by and the sun starts to rise from outside his window, sitting up straighter and paying more attention to his concentrated face as Jungkook pours himself into his creation. 

Looking at him in this light, you realize that he is beautiful. And not just because he’s your soulmate. Jungkook’s hair is scruffy and stubbled, undereyes sporting impressive dark circles. But the way he caresses the paintbrush and the way his body moves to the beat of the painting is poetic. He glances at you sporadically, eyes darting to and fro to capture as much as he can before the creativity burns out. He is beautiful and it makes your heart ache to know that he does not want you. In spite of the bond the universe has created. 

You wonder if in his focused hazed, he notices the new glaze across your eyes and the silent sound of your soul calling out for his. You wipe away the first dripping tear as quickly as it came. You know Jungkook sees, but does not bat an eye and you can’t tell if you’d rather prefer him to acknowledge it. 

It’s 8:00am when he puts the paintbrush down, takes a step back, and surveys his work. His eyes trail over each organic line and areas where he decided to use burnishing instead of cross hatching. It’s far from perfect, but it’s enough. 

“Okay. You’re free to go”, he announces, plucking the painting off the easel and resting it against the wall, hidden from your eyes. 

“W-What? That’s it?”, you sigh disappointedly, “you’re not even going to let me see it?” Jungkook shrugs. His detachedness makes you want to rip your hair out and sob into your pillow at the same time. You don’t understand how a person could be so unfazed. 

“S’not ready for debut. Thanks for showing up, though.” He doesn’t spare you another glance. Just goes back to cleaning his brushes and dumping out the glasses of murky paint water. You ignore the twinge of hurt in your chest and slide off the stool. 

“Okay, fine. Now it’s my turn. Would you like to go have some breakfast?”, you smile expectantly to Jungkook, who stares at you with an indifferent gaze. His first instinct is to make up a half-assed excuse to get out of this, eager to detach himself from you as much as possible and avoid any more interaction. However, he was insanely hungry, and the glimmer in your eye just looks so hopeful even Jungkook couldn’t bear to shoot you down.

He sighs with resignation. A little breakfast couldn’t hurt, and he wasn’t going with you necessarily. You were just...going to the same cafe in the same direction as him and likely sitting at the same table. Yeah, that’s it. 

“Hurry up, I’m hungry.” 

“Wait...actually?”

You blinked in shock at his lack of resistance. 

“Yes. Now come on. I know a place with really great apple strudels.”

You weren’t aware that by ‘breakfast’, Jungkook actually meant sitting in complete silence and wolfing down food like your life depends on it. You want to be grossed out when he inhales 3 apple strudels in less than 10 minutes, crumbs flaking on his shirt without a care in the world. Yet you just feel endeared. The sight makes you smile. And maybe if Jungkook did not detest you, you would have leaned over and kissed the cinnamon sugar right off his lips. 

“So….”, you sip on a sweet coffee, “Jimin told me you’re going for a masters in art history?” 

Jungkook nods halfway through a bite of his pastry. “Yup.” 

“Is it something you’re really passionate about?” you inquire, desperately wanting the conversation to delve into something that wasn’t so surface level.

“Uh huh.”

“What are some other things you’re interested in besides art?”

“Totally.” 

Jungkook is completely clueless. He only spares glances to the windows and occasional looks to his oh so precious breakfast treats. You want to slap him and be angry, but you only sigh. It shouldn’t be so hard to talk to your soulmate, yet it felt like trying to pull teeth when he was so completely disinterested in you. You wonder if this is worth it.

You look up at him from your steaming cappuccino cup and use your wildcard. 

“In my opinion, Botticelli’s Birth of Venus did little for the Italian Renaissance movement.” 

Your statement almost has Jungkook falling backwards in his chair and choking on a piece of fruit filling, eyes growing as wide as saucers when he finally processes what you just said. A flaming insult to the entire art historian community. 

“What do you know about Botticelli?”, he sneers, and you internally celebrate for this is the most emotion Jungkook has shown since meeting you. 

“I know that his work supposedly epitomizes the spirit of the Renaissance”, you swirl the coffee in your cup nonchalantly, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “But if you ask me, Bellini’s San Giobbe Altarpiece did much more to encapsulate the values of 15th century Italy.” 

Jungkook’s speechless expression is one that you want to take a snapshot of and frame it to your wall. It is glorious, and arguably more artful to you than Botticelli himself. So what, you had conveniently forgot to mention to him about the class you took junior year of college, with a professor that made you engrave the fundamentals of Italian painting in your brain. It’s so much more gratifying to see him stunned silent. 

Across the table from you, Jungkook feels a warm smile itching to display itself. Before it can appear, he disguises it as a cold smirk. He feels something akin to a butterfly at the pit of his stomach, but blames it on indigestion and the inhuman pace at which he devoured his breakfast. Yeah that must be it. There was no way he was feeling butterflies. 

He cracks his knuckles, raises his cup to gulp down a lukewarm green tea, and rests his elbows on the table separating the both of you.

“I don’t suppose you could tell me your thoughts on the influences of neo-classicism in the 18th century?” 

◑

“No, Y/N, turn to your left a little”, Jungkook frustratedly sighs behind the camera lens.

“Your left or my left?”

He pauses. “....left.” 

To any outside eye, you and Jungkook look like two buffoons trying to take pictures on what might possibly be the windiest day of the season, under the peach blossom trees. Jungkook had called you earlier that day and stressed about how he needed mixed media in his beloved portfolio, and photographs were the next topic of interest. Though you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just set out a fruit bowl on his windowsill and call it still life photography.

Jungkook stares down at his camera, dissatisfaction clear on his face. You almost want to apologize for your abhorrent modeling skills but hey, he was the one that chose you. 

“Hmm...try staring at that boat in the distance”, he dictates, standing beside you and aiming the lens at your side profile. You do as he asks, but don’t hear the shutter of the camera. Jungkook sighs again and leans forward, so close you could feel his warm breath hitting your skin. You hope he doesn’t notice the beet blush on your cheeks.

Jungkook’s hands meet your chin when he uses it to slightly tilt your face downwards. He positions you in the way that he wants you to pose and you finally understand why photography is considered an art. Because it’s almost as if Jungkook is molding you like clay, to get the silhouette he wants to capture with his camera lens. The day is brisk, but his skin on your’s lights you on fire. 

“Okay, that’s…..that’s perfect”, Jungkook breathes, hurriedly picking up the camera that had been hanging onto his neck by the strap and angling it. At the moment his index finger presses down on the button, there is a gust of wind that surrounds the both of you.

The breeze loosens a strand of your hair and it falls into your eyes. You let your eyes drift close for a second, smiling into the cold air that tingles on your skin. Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat and he thanks the skies for the howling wind so you wouldn’t be able to hear his thumping heartbeat. But surely it’s only because it’s cold. And absolutely nothing else. Jungkook coughs inconspicuously to snap himself out of his trance, sighing in relief when he realizes your eyes are still closed and that you hadn’t noticed his internal struggle. 

He drags you to a bridge next and makes you lay on the cold wood to which you vehemently object before you remember that he’s paying you and that you want him to fall in love with you, not dislike you more than he already does. After the bridge, Jungkook makes you kneel beside the park pond and dip your hand in the icy water and you find yourself wanting to do the same thing to his precious camera. 

Before the two of you have realized, the sun sets into the horizon and tinges the sky in a combination of purples and pinks that Jungkook himself has a hard time replicating on canvas. He aims his lens at the clouds and takes a picture that he knows won’t make it into his gallery. He just felt the need to have something to remember this day by. For no reason in particular…

A buzzing coming from your coat pocket alerts you both of the time that has passed and how the sky has considerably darkened since you began the session. When you fish your phone out, Jimin’s contact photo is staring back at you while the marimba ringtone continues playing. You put the phone on speaker.

“Hey Jiminie”, you smile and Jungkook catches a glance of it. And the discomfort in his chest is definitely, 100%, not jealousy. Not at all.

“I told you not to call me that! What is with you younger people and your disrespect for the elderly?” The corner of Jungkook’s lips twitch into a subtle smile at the similarity of your’s and his conversations with Jimin. 

“Okay, okay, grandpa. What’s up?”

“Can you come home ASAP? I may or may not have broken the stove trying to make soup.” 

The redundancy of his confession makes you sigh, as Park Jimin desecrating your shared kitchen space was not a rare occurrence by any means. 

“I’ll be right there”, you chided through the line, “please do not cook anything else before I arrive.” 

“Thanks Y/N-ie, you’re the best!” Jimin’s voice is far too cheery and you make a mental note to nag him a little extra when you get home. The phone call is ended promptly and you turn around to Jungkook, eyes widening in surprise when he has already packed up all his photography gear. The sky had turned dark and the streetlights had been turned on to illuminate the park. If you had craned your neck upwards, you would have noticed the stars that awoke again to shine down upon the city. But you didn’t. You only saw the stars that were twinkling in Jungkook’s eyes. 

“Uh”, he stammers, “I’ll walk you home. It’s late.” 

“Oh! Uh...Thanks.” Though he was still cold and indifferent, your heart jumped in elation. Perhaps this could be considered baby steps. 

The trip home is quiet, only the sounds of your tandem footsteps on pavement and the rustle of a breeze through tree leaves fill the space of silence. But the quiet is not uncomfortable. Just a bit awkward as you two try to figure out how to be around one another. Jungkook’s hands are shoved in his pockets and your fingers itch to intertwine themselves around his own. To press your soulmate marks together and feel them calling out to each other. But you and Jungkook are anything but normal soulmates. For you are already head over heels in love with him and he is adamant on not sparing you a crumb of affection. 

To your disdain, the apartment was closer than you thought and the short walk with Jungkook ended before it really even began. You could practically hear Jimin’s impatience emanating from the third story of the building. 

“So I’ll see you later?”, you smile meekly. Jungkook readjusts the strap of his camera bag before nodding. He is walking away before you turn around to enter the apartment building and even though it was something small and mundane, you wished he would have waited to see you get in safely. You make your way inside, more downcast than you had been before.

You don’t see when Jungkook turns around. You don’t feel the reassurance that washes over him when the door shuts safely behind you. 

That night, Jungkook is reminded far too much of Yoojung. When he goes to make his usual chamomile, he finds her mug at the very back of the tea cabinet. She must have forgotten it when she packed up her stuff. When he spoons in the sugar, he remembers how Yoojung drinks her tea with honey instead. And when he feels himself start to fall apart, he remembers how Yoojung is not there to keep him together. 

Jungkook pushes away his pain, abandons the lukewarm mug of tea, and opts for an early bedtime to sleep away the ache. The camera sitting on his nightstand, though, beckons him to look over the photos you both had taken that afternoon. 

In the moment, he had been dissatisfied with the pictures, always thinking there must be a better angle or a better position you could shift into. However when he looks down at his camera now, in the quiet and solemnity of his bedroom, Jungkook can’t help but to think they are absolutely perfect. 

He doesn’t know whether to credit his own artistic skill or you; for breathing life into his photographs. It’s the lines of your hands, the slope of your nose, and the stray strands of your hair that makes his pictures more human. 

The ones he ends up picking though, are not perfectly  staged and not the ones where he made you change the position of your stance for 10 minutes. No, the best pictures were the ones he took without you noticing. When you had just been enjoying the cool breeze or admiring the beauty of peach blossom season. When you point out a cool looking bird and when you stared annoyedly past the cameras lens (at him no doubt). 

Yoojung is gone from his mind for just a tiny fleeting moment. For little reason at all, Jungkook finds himself smiling. And there is only the company of the moon to see it. 

◒

 It is ten o’ clock in the morning and Jungkook comes to a realization that in the couple weeks since he has met you, he has sighed more times than he has in the past 23 years of life. Jungkook sighs when you text him first thing in the morning about the dream you had the night before and describe it in painfully vivid details. He leaves them unanswered. Sometimes he wished you would just email him the google document instead. He sighs when you fidget in your seat when he’s trying to paint and keep focus, but you are only interested in asking him the snacks he has in his fridge or when he’s going to finish. He sighs when you and Jimin collectively trash his art studio by spamming his $1,000 camera with ugly face pictures and sword fighting with his sable paint brushes. Jungkook often has a hard time believing that both of you are in graduate school. 

Today, he sighs when you bombard into room 62B of the art building; what is supposed to be Jungkook’s completely zen and peaceful creative space. You are tiptoeing around him as you always do, scared that you’ll do something to set him off and your soulmate will disown you for good. He glances at you once, eyes quickly darting back to the sculpture he is molding on the clay table and saying nothing. 

“There’s a new cafe that just opened right across from the apple strudel place”, you gulp tensely. “I was gonna go check out the competition.” Your words seem deaf to Jungkook’s ear and he only furrows his eyebrows, fingers fussing over the mass of clay. There was just something he couldn’t get right. He didn’t know what it was. 

Jungkook pushes away the sculpture frustratedly, wipes his hands on his apron, and finally looks at you. Maybe he did need a break and come back to it with fresh eyes. That’s all it was, though. A break. He wasn’t going because you asked him to. 

“They better have blonde roast otherwise you’ll be compensating me for my time.” Jungkook is as ruthless and blunt as ever and you decide to look past it as you always do. Him agreeing to go with you was a mini success. 

“Welcome in! You’ve stopped by at the perfect time. The strawberry scones have just been taken out of the oven!” The cafe employee is far too enthusiastic for receiving minimum wage and greeting grumpy people off the streets who just want to be caffeinated. His name tag reads Jung Hoseok. 

“Oh, strawberry is my favorite”, you whisper, the statement only meant for your ears but Jungkook picks up on it anyway. He declines to tell you that strawberry is his favorite as well. Hoseok’s eyes light up when you and Jungkook approach the entrance, like he finally succeeded at luring a customer. 

The cafe isn’t anything special. A bit more modern compared to the one across the street and you think you prefer the latter because this new one doesn’t have the owner’s handsome son standing at the cash register. He may not be your soulmate, but even you had to admit Kim Seokjin was a beautiful man if there ever was one. However, this cafe is warm and has ceiling length windows that let in an obscene amount of sunlight. Jungkook makes a mental note to try some pictures here in the future. 

Jungkook’s phone buzzes in his pocket and you are already leaving him behind in the dust, walking straight to the counter and peering up at the menu deep in thought. You turn around to see that he is immersed in mysterious conversation, and take it upon yourself to order him a drink. 

“I’ll have a matcha latte. And uh…”, you decide, trailing off as you wonder what kind of drink Jungkook would enjoy. “And an iced vanilla mocha latte, extra whipped cream, extra chocolate syrup. Do you guys have rainbow sprinkles?” 

A little sugar never hurt anyone. Especially someone so often bitter like your one and only soulmate. 

When Jungkook hangs up and makes his way to the corner table where you are situated, the sight of the concoction on the table is enough to give him an instant cavity. You hide your smile behind the mug of matcha. He grumbles and sits down swiftly, sticking the straw past his lips in defiance and you can only watch expectantly. 

“Well…do you like it?” 

This is when Jungkook realizes you didn’t order this to spite him. You just had completely zero idea what he liked and disliked and chose the first thing you thought was best. As cold as he is, he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that when he drinks coffee, he likes it black. No cream, no sugar, and the darkest roast with the most caffeine to push him through those nights spent in front of a canvas or over a clay table. 

Jungkook fights to keep steady from the ambush of sugar and wills himself to swallow it down. There is sticky chocolate syrup on his hands and it feels cosmically more uncomfortable than paint. But Jungkook manages to look up at you and nod, to which you reward with a smile. 

“I knew you would like it”, you say smugly, giving yourself a mental pat on the back. “You look like you have a giant sweet tooth.” There is a mellow giggle that follows your statement. Jungkook feels a flutter at the bottom of his stomach, and convinces himself it’s only because it sounds so much like Yoojung. He catches sight of the moon on your wrist, and pushes the feeling away even farther. 

The two of you spend the rest of the midday there, tucked away in a corner of a cafe and losing track of time as you always do. Jungkook finds himself forgetting about the mountains of work he has to do to finish his art gallery portfolio, and the unfinished sculpture back at the studio that’s just not right. 

Today, he allows himself to enjoy your presence and get to know you more. Your favorite color is yellow. You had a dog named Benny when you were a child. You detest beer with a passion, but enjoy a nightly glass of pinot grigio. Jungkook barely notices when the entire cup of coffee has disappeared. Every last rainbow sprinkle.

On second thought, he feels that maybe there was something sweeter than his unexpectedly delicious iced vanilla mocha latte with extra whipped cream. Maybe that something was sitting right across from him, rambling about the fundamentals of English literature with unexplained vigor. 

Jungkook’s soul feels lighter when he goes to bed that night. And when he finally succumbs to Morpheus, his last lucid thought is of you; sun beams coming from the large cafe windows that comb through your hair. He looks at you through his mind’s eye and all he can see is the potential heartbreak you have the power to put him through. The fan of your eyelashes. The curve of your smile. The plush of your lips. All he can see is Yoojung as she crushes his soul in her bare hands. 

Yet in the midst of his internal conflict, Jungkook’s subconscious allows him to fall in love with you a little bit. Perhaps not love just yet, but affection. Like a toe dip in uncharted waters or sticking his finger in a bowl of creamy cake batter just for a taste. The walls he has built are still there, strong as ever, but perhaps a couple bricks look a bit askew. He doesn’t know, but his soul calls out to your’s through the fortress.

◐

“Y/N I don’t know why you thought this was a good idea.”

“Oh hush, just close your eyes and point where your heart tells you to.”

In the lobby of a train station, facing a map and an ETA board is where you and Jungkook will be embarking on your next “date but not really because you don’t believe in soulmates so let’s just hang out”. It had taken a good two hours of nagging and whining on your part to convince him to abandon his portfolio for just a little bit to go an outing. Now standing here, with you excitedly bouncing next to him and a mystery destination, Jungkook feels something akin to utter regret. 

“What if I choose somewhere that’s a thousand miles away? Or just in the middle of nowhere?”, Jungkook groans, still putting up an unbothered and cold front. 

“Well then we will go somewhere that’s a thousand miles away or in the middle of nowhere”, you quipped back at him. Jungkook had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. 

He reluctantly places a hand over his eyes, sighing with resignation before pointing to a random spot on the map. There is a giggle that sounds to his left and Jungkook finds himself wanting to hear more. 

“Wonderful choice”, you smiled, “couldn’t have picked it better myself.” 

Jungkook peeked his eyes open one at a time, scared of seeing what his intuition has chosen for your guys’ spontaneous destination. He breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees that his fingers landed on a town on the outskirts of the city, 20 minutes away from the university. He silently thanks the universe for not sabotaging his wallet and time. 

“We’re never doing this again, Y/N”, Jungkook speaks as you are in front of him, skipping happily to the front desk to buy two train tickets. 

“Wasn’t it fun, though? The thrill?”, you chuckle at his demeanor, to which he only shakes his head vehemently. You note the newest thing you’ve just learned about Jungkook: he has an aversion to uncertainty and spontaneity. 

The train ride was as brief as it was uneventful. You spent the time rambling to Jungkook about all the quips and quirks about yourself and he only listened. Though he kept quiet, his face was free of any annoyance or indication that you were speaking too much. Jungkook only stared at you and unknowing to you, he soaked in every bit of information like a sponge. If anyone asked, he could tell them what foods you were allergic to, what colors wash you out, and what vegetables you hated the most. 

“Wow you didn’t have to pick somewhere so far away, Jungkook.” You muse as the two of you step out of the train car. So far away in fact, that if you were to crane your head up enough, you would be able to see the university from a distance. 

“Hey, you were the one who made me choose”, Jungkook spares a rare smile, “Would you rather we have shelled out our wallets to go on an 18-hour train ride?”

“Okay, fair point.”

The city was as abundant as it was big, and the both of you walked aimlessly from avenue to avenue, stopping occasionally whenever you see a dog you just can’t help but to pet or whenever Jungkook complained about his sore feet. As cold and indifferent as Jungkook made himself out to be, you’ve quickly come to realize that he’s actually a big baby. He still hasn’t let you in or even lowered his walls by a tiny centimeter, but you like to think that even agreeing to go anywhere with you could be considered significant progress.

Jungkook doesn’t notice the pounding of his heart whenever his hands graze against your’s, walking side by side so close he can feel the heat emanating through your coat. He doesn’t notice the peace he feels, just the synchronicity of his feet as he places them on the pavement. 

The fraught wind that blows straight at Jungkook’s face prompts him to look up from where his eyes were cast on the ground. He almost staggers at how strong it is, but finds himself weak in the knees for a completely different reason.

Of course.

Of all the days, of all the times, of all the people in this entire city.

Of course she had to be the one that was currently staring at him from across the intersection. 

The red light seems to go on forever. Either that or time has just spontaneously frozen, Jungkook can’t tell. But his eyes are fixed on hers and his feet bolster him to the concrete when all he wants to do is sprint the other way and forget he ever saw this ghost from the past. 

Yoojung looks as beautiful as the day she left him. 

She’s gained some weight and her cheeks have filled out, but it looks healthy on her now (Jungkook always chided her for forgetting to eat). She stares at him with a combination of shock and guilt and something he wants to overthink into affection but he won’t give himself that satisfaction anymore. She dyed her hair. Light brown looks good on her. 

She looks...happy. As happy as anyone can look when they’re rushing through thick crowds of a city, traffic horns blaring like a dilapidated symphony. 

In the heat of it all, it’s impossible for you not to notice Jungkook’s sudden change in demeanor or the way he has suddenly stopped breathing. When you follow his gaze, there is a girl on the other side of the street that shares the same starstruck expression and even from the outside looking in, you can feel the weight of something painful in his eyes. In her stature. 

When the lights turn green, the throngs of city dwellers migrate across and you stay beside Jungkook when he doesn’t move a muscle. Not even a finger twitch. But she does. And he can only fight to keep the ache away when Yoojung gets closer with every millisecond. Until she is standing right in front of him and he can smell her familiar vanilla perfume. 

“Jungkook”, she speaks, apprehension in her voice. “It’s been a while...how are you?” 

Yoojung only spares you a side glance while keeping attention on Jungkook and you only grow more curious as to who this strange woman is. 

He wants to speak so badly but his tongue remains frozen. He turns to you with flabbergast in his eyes and shakes his head to snap out of the daze of confusion. Of seeing the love of his life again. Or who he thought was the love of his life. 

“Could you give us a minute, Y/N?” 

You didn’t know why but the words that came from his lips made you feel disappointed. Perhaps you were just stupid for thinking he would introduce you. Tell her that you’re his soulmate and scream it at the top of his lungs with sheer pride. But your imagination has hurt you countless times and you had a feeling this one wouldn’t be the last. You manage a curt nod and push away the twinge in your heart. There was a boundary between you and Jungkook and today was not the day to cross it and introduce yourself as his soulmate to any random stranger. 

Once you are out of vicinity and have found solace in a bookstore 10 feet away, Jungkook allows himself to breathe in Yoojung’s presence. 

“I didn’t know if you were still in the city”, he falters, voice coming out quieter than he would have liked it to. But what was he supposed to sound like confronting the supposed love of his life. 

“I never left, Jungkook...my entire life is here.” She sighs, smiling lightly with eyes seeping with guilt. 

He scoffs. “I don’t know Yoojung, you seem to leave behind important things pretty easily.” Jungkook feels himself getting angrier and resentful by the second, and though he knows it is unfair of him, Yoojung’s mere presence brings back all the wounds he never truly healed from. 

Granted, on a concrete sidewalk next to a traffic light pole was not the best place to have a heart to heart about failed relationships. But when has the universe ever given Jungkook the best things in life. He is devastatingly cynical for someone who dedicates his career to art. 

Yoojung wears a frown on her face, but there is no vindictiveness there. Just an overwhelming sense of remorse that Jungkook communicates as pity. 

“I don’t know how else to say that I’m sorry”, she sighs, eyes falling to the ground. Jungkook wishes it would just open up and swallow him whole. 

“Then don’t say anything.” He turns to walk away.

“Wait! Jungkook can we...can’t we catch up or something? For a couple minutes?” Yoojung is visibly desperate, and her hands are outstretched as if wanting to touch him but keeping herself from overstepping the line. 

Jungkook glances through the window of the bookstore, and you are situated on a chair, already nose deep in a hefty book. He wants to smile and tease you for being such a nerd, but the weight of Yoojung’s presence makes him reinforce those walls of indifference tenfold. 

He exhales frustration and inhales temptation, looking back into Yoojung’s familiar eyes and nodding. Jungkook walks to a nearby bench and sits down with no words exchanged, looking forward coldly even when he feels her warmth next to him. A couple months ago, Jungkook would have set all his canvases on fire to feel her beside him again. Now, he’s not so sure.

“So…”, she starts, “who’s that cute girl you were with?” 

“No one.” He shoots out a little too soon with no hesitation. Yoojung gulps.

“You know Jungkook, it’s okay to find someone. I-I know I hurt you, but I’m glad if you’ve found someone who doesn’t.” Jungkook doesn’t say anything so she continues.

“I’m really happy for-”

“I never really forgave you Yoojung.” He stares blankly at the passersby and tries to ignore the ache in his bones. The one that’s been there the day she left and took a piece of his heart with her. 

“And I don’t want to blame you for my decisions but I want you to know that I push away a lot of people because of you. People that don’t deserve it.” From the corner of his eye, he can see her nod solemnly to his words and fidget with her hands in her lap. Part of him feels guilty for unloading on Yoojung. Part of him feels like maybe he deserves to. 

“What you did was really shitty. Astronomically fucking shitty. And I’ve spent the past eternity hating you and maybe I still do, but…”, Jungkook takes a deep breath, “I want to forgive you now. If not fully, then partially. I hope you can understand that.” He finally tilts his head to look at her and though the smile on her face is as beautiful as he remembers it to be, Jungkook no longer feels the longing. No longer feels the sting that he usually does when his thoughts take him back to the years they spent together. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to call it closure, not yet anyway. Sitting here on the bench, he still wants to scream and yell and tell Yoojung of all the nights he’s spent alone since she left. He still wants to drag her back and wonder if she could love him again like she used to. 

But he doesn’t. He listens when she tells him about her new job and her new apartment right by the lakeside. They share snippets of their separate lives. Just deep enough to rekindle something warm but shallow enough to not invite anything else in. 

When he walks away from the bench and into the bookstore, Jungkook stills feels the walls that he has built around himself. He is still scared of opening up and being vulnerable but the anger held for Yoojung for so long is no longer a raging fire. More so a wickering flame. 

When he spots you, though, he remembers why he built those walls in the first place. He remembers how easy it used to be for him to climb a high peak and fall to his demise. Your eyes widen when you catch sight of him, lips curling into a wide smile and clear excitement in your expression. The book in your hands is tossed aside and tunnel vision reserved for him and him only. Something blooms in his chest and he can’t remember the last time someone’s been so elated to just simply see him...aside from his dog. Jungkook reminds himself to act uncaring. If he pretends long enough, he’ll start to believe it himself. 

◓

The train ride home feels longer than the one there. The minutes drag by and perhaps it is because of your drooping eyes or the way Jungkook is looking at you with a different tenderness than he has been before. His stare is not harsh. It’s soft and sweet, but subtle enough for you to wonder if you are just imagining it. The night has always been unforgiving and cold even in the spring, but perhaps all that’s needed to breathe some warmth, is a 15 minute train ride and a wrist with a crescent moon.

Yet every time you become more smitten with Jungkook, there is a harsh reminder that follows you everywhere like a designated storm cloud. 

Jungkook does not love you. And you are trying and you will continue to try but his eyes tell you something he is too courteous to say. You see it now as he sits across from you and admires the skyline from the window. It makes you wonder if it is soulmates he doesn’t believe in, or if it is just you that he can’t bring himself to accept. With every cold glance and wall that he puts up, you start to convince yourself that it is the latter.

“We’re here, Y/N”, Jungkook speaks quietly, interrupting your drifting thoughts. He turns around and leaves the train car with hands tucked in his coat pocket. Did you expect him to escort you out and hold your hand? Of course not. But you were tired of Jungkook being so indifferent to your existence. 

You follow him glumly out the doors that slide close after you step through. Then it zips off again and you wonder where it would have taken you if you just stayed in your seat. If Jungkook would have even noticed that you hadn’t followed him when he left. 

You sigh into the night air and wish it was winter so that your breath could be visible as a white cloud. Maybe then Jungkook would notice that you were a living being beside him. 

“Who was that girl that we met back there?”, you murmur hesitantly. Jungkook nearly chokes on air. 

“No one”, he responds curtly, effectively cutting off the conversation then and there. It makes your heart sink. She must be important and all you want to do is know every single detail about their relationship, but the look in his eyes warn you to not pry. 

You don’t think you can forget the way Jungkook looked at her from across the street. Like he had been lost this whole time and she was the North star. You saw the way his eyes twinkled in the midday sun and sparkled even more when she came closer. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to have that effect on him. 

“Hey, next time you should pick a place you and I both do not live in”, you giggle, nudging his shoulder with your own. It makes him smile and even though your heart feels heavy in your chest, Jungkook looks so beautiful when he smiles. 

The two pair of feet subconsciously carry you both to the front door of your apartment building and the scene is too familiar from the last time. You expect him to turn around and whisper a hushed goodnight under his breath, and you’ll have to watch the back of his head disappear down the street. But he doesn’t. Just stands across from you quietly and waits for you to say something. So you do. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry if I brought up something you didn’t want to remember. I don’t really know your story but it seems you two have a lot of history.” You want to tell him how hard it is for you to be his soulmate when he is so clearly vying for the warmth of someone else. Someone who didn’t have a crescent moon on her wrist. 

“I know you’ll tell me whenever you’re ready, and if that’s never then I’ll keep waiting until forever. But I’m here if you want to talk or unload and I already know I can help because…” you fidget with your hands and look around nervously. 

“Well, because I’m your soulmate.” 

When you say it loud and explicitly, Jungkook thought the statement would have made him recoil. But it doesn’t. It just seeps through his consciousness and feels warm when he thinks about the weight of those words. You are his soulmate, regardless of if he believes in such a thing or not. You carry the same mark as he does on your wrist and somehow, by some intangible factor, the universe had decided that you were created for him and he for you. 

And when he looks at you. Really looks at you. When Jungkook processes your sincere words and how you manage to deal with his insurmountable boundaries even when you barely know him…

Jungkook has never wanted to kiss you more. 

So he does. 

Your lips taste like mint chewing gum and the ghost of words you wish to tell him but can’t. He feels you stiffen until you completely melt in his hold, and Jungkook cradles your face with both his hands, pulling you closer to him until there is no barrier between you but the clothes on your back and the emotional distance. You feel so far away even when you’re this near. Was it a trick of your imagination when you felt the moon on your wrist tingling? 

It doesn’t last as long as you would’ve liked it to. Jungkook yanks his hands from you like your skin scalded him and takes several steps back. His chest rises up and down violently when his breath comes out ragged, posture stiffening as the gravity of what just happened finally absorbs. You’re there, he knows you’re there and standing in front of him. So why is it he can only see Yoojung. Yoojung and the star on her wrist and apologies on her lips. Yoojung and the tears in her eyes when she walks away. 

You can only stare confusedly when his body goes rigid, and a sudden coldness envelops you both. 

And in the haze of post-embrace, like any two normal lovers, you catch something in his eyes that sets a heavy feeling in your stomach. Before you can confirm if it’s just a trick of the light, Jungkook is already running in the opposite direction and you can only see a shadow of sullen love that follows him. He is gone and you are standing alone, wondering how moonlight could feel so cold even on a spring night. 

You don’t get any sleep that night. Every time you close your eyes, there is only the sight of Jungkook’s disgust and regret to lull you to dreams. 

20 minutes away from your apartment, there is a boy who doesn’t sleep either. He won’t text or call to tell you that he can’t shake off the feeling of your skin on his and your breath fanning his cheek. He won’t admit to himself that tonight, when he looked at you, he felt the possibility of falling in love. He won’t tell you that the moon on his skin longs to be traced by your hands. No, he just shares those secrets with his pillow as its linen soaks up his tears. 

In the midst of it all, there is one verdict that becomes clear to him.

Jungkook wishes he had never told Jimin he needed a muse.

◑

The next three weeks is dedicated to trying to get in touch with your soulmate. Through the whirlwinds of utter confusion and desperation, you try texting, calling, emailing, even showing up at his art studio and apartment to no avail. It seemed he had a talent for avoiding soulmates. 

It hurt, to say the least. That he left you high and dry after giving you the most intense

kiss of your life and doesn’t even have the decency to let you know he’s alive. The feeling of his lips still burns on your skin and you wonder if you are a complete fool for being so smitten with a person who, quite possibly, hasn’t spared you a single thought after that night. You just want - no you just need some clarity. 

Jungkook makes you wait another week before replying. 

It is an impossibly sunny day when you wake up. Your neck is stiff from sleeping like a contortionist and your heart aches even more than your muscles with every passing morning with radio silence from your soulmate. You want to call him and tell him you’re sorry. That you’ll forget anything ever happened. It hurts to even think about it, but for Jungkook, you would go through a little more pain so he would let you into his life. 

Outside the hall, Jimin is singing along to a familiar melody of a song you don’t know the name of and judging by the aroma that wafts through the cracks of your door, he has successfully made a pot of coffee. He has been an anchor throughout this whole thing, and sometimes you make a secret wish to the stars that Jimin had been the one with a crescent moon on his wrist instead. Perhaps that way, you wouldn’t have to go through the agony of chasing love that is constantly sprinting away from you. 

Your phone lays on the bedside table and buzzes innocently to start the morning. When you reach over and scroll through notifications routinely, there is a name there that makes your heart pang. Makes you want to throw up and celebrate at the same time. A text from Jungkook. Your fingers shake as you open it. 

I no longer need a model for the portfolio. Thank you for your involvement. Compensation will be provided promptly. 

The day you met him, you already knew that Jungkook was cold. He never dawdled around a painful truth or toed the line between bluntness and sparing feelings. Jungkook spoke his mind, collateral damage be damned. But this is a different type of cold. This one feels more like dry ice on warm skin. Like the numbing chill of a fading hope. Like winter’s first snowfall when autumn had promised you it would forever stay. 

Phone in your hand and tears threatening to drip down your cheeks, you wish you would have waited a bit more before opening his text. Perhaps that way you could have spent the rest of your morning basking in the spring sun, drinking Jimin’s inevitably bad coffee, having hope that Jeon Jungkook would grow to care for you. Perhaps if you hadn’t opened it so soon, your soulmate would still seem in reach. 

Jimin’s mug nearly drops out of his hand when the door of your bedroom is slammed open. He flings it to the side when he notices your red-rimmed eyes and the shaking hands that clutch onto a cellphone. You scream and sob at the universe, at anyone, asking why it was you that had to experience the chaos of longing. Jimin was there to hold you, as he always is, and helplessly listen to the sound of your heart breaking once again by the hands of Jungkook.

◒

Room 62B of the art building is a place you hope to never have to visit again. Though it’s walls contain memories of you and Jungkook, and the evenings navigating his gallery portfolio along with your convoluted relationship, the wallpaper bleeds with a longing ache. A yearning pain. And if those walls could talk, you don’t think you would want them to say anything at all. They would only murmur what you are slowly accepting to be true.

Jungkook, your soulmate, wants nothing to do with you. 

When you hesitantly rap on the door with a fisted hand, the sound of him rustling from inside makes you want to run the opposite direction. It opens before you get the chance to change your mind and the sight of him nearly takes your breath away. He is beautiful as he always is, hair ruffled and mussed from undoubtedly running his hands through it compulsively. His lips are pink from biting on them and the dark circles under his eyes tells you of the dreams he has deprived himself of. 

Jungkook is painfully gorgeous and painfully not yours. 

“Y/N...I sent you a text earlier.” His voice is saccharine but the words taste so bitter. 

“I know. I read it”, you murmur, shrinking in on yourself. 

“I....Can we talk, Jungkook?” 

His eyes dart around nervously at your question, chewing on his bottom lip and tapping the toe of his shoe as if he was impatient and you were bothering him. And you have known that simply being around Jungkook hurts but the light at the end of the tunnel only continues dwindling. 

You understand why he is acting so restless when your gaze drifts past him and into the room. There is a girl perched on a stool, across from a canvas and easel that you know awfully well. You don’t recognize her but it’s only in your nature to begin comparing every aspect of yourself to this stranger. She sits on her hands and swings her legs back and forth, head in the clouds and eyes trailing the ceiling. She isn’t aware of the weight of her presence in the studio, nor the turmoil she has brought to you, who is standing just outside the door. 

The oxygen in the hallway thins and the breath you’ve been waiting to release since knocking catches in your throat. Coming here, you prepared yourself for a long and inevitably heart-wrenching talk with your soulmate. But you hadn’t prepared for the possibility that he had replaced you overnight. 

The only thought that blares through your mind is that this is your fault. For letting yourself think you were worth more to Jeon Jungkook than any other stranger. You can no longer find it in yourself to be angry at him. Just yourself. 

“You…”, you gulp down a whimper, “you replaced me.” 

Jungkook follows your vacant stare past him and sighs, realizing you had most likely deducted what this scene looked like. You would be right. Between the weeks of trying to understand what you were to him and the impending due date of the portfolio, Jungkook was sure the best way to move past this confusion was to just speed full steam ahead. That meant finding another muse. You were no longer an option.

You only stare down at the floor, but Jungkook begins speaking anyway. 

“Y/N, I…I’m sorry.” You scoff at his words, feigning anger when inside, you truly didn’t know if you could piece yourself back together this time. 

“Look, Y/N. It’s not you. It’s just that…”, he breathes deep, not knowing why it was so hard to say. “I’ve stopped believing soulmates were truly a thing a long time ago. I’m sorry.” 

It’s not the first time you’ve heard these words but it doesn’t mean they hurt any less.

“I didn’t want to initiate anything, Y/N, but you did and I let you and that was my fault to let anything start. I shouldn’t have when I knew nothing would come of it.”

It was a fault to him. It never should have happened. 

“So you just thought you would kiss me and decide that I meant nothing to you afterwards?”

“It was a mistake.” It was painful to think it but when you hear Jungkook say it, you experience a new kind of ache. A humorless chuckle bubbles past your throat.

 “I really thought you would grow to love me. Now I know it’s not your fault that I’m a complete fool. To fall head over heels for my soulmate who wishes he had never even met me. Much less share a mark.” 

You can see Jungkook’s eyes widen at your confession, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It was the truth. He deserved to hear it. 

“You shouldn’t. You can’t.” He reaches up to pull at his hair frustratedly.

“Can’t what, Jungkook? Love you? You think I want to be in love with someone who wishes I didn’t exist?” You hate your voice for breaking, but its impossibly painful when he does nothing to deny your statement. 

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? What can I say to make this better?”

Try: I love you too.

“I don’t need you to say anything you don’t mean, Jungkook.” 

“Then shouldn’t you leave?”

Jeon Jungkook is cruel even when he doesn’t mean to be. There is oblivion in his gaze, and his question is one of genuine curiosity. But it still stabs you exactly where your heart is most tender. Yes, I should have left. 

“I guess I thought you were worth the pain, Jungkook. When you pushed me away and wanted nothing to do with me, I thought you were worth hurting for just to try a little more. Worth the uncertainty of being around you but never getting to actually be with you”, you numbly mutter, uncaring about the rivulets of tears down your face. Not like it wasn’t something he’s never seen before. There is more to come on the tip of your tongue, and Jungkook stays quiet to let you speak. There is conflict in his vision, but you don’t want to give yourself the false hope that he cares for you. 

Look where that has gotten you before. 

“You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

Saying the words are revelation for you as much as it is for him. All this time, you’ve been running away from the truth in the pursuit of your soulmate. You hadn’t realized that the chase led you astray. 

“And I know that loving me is not easy. I’m…”, you force the words out so he can at least hear your turmoil by his hands. “I’m never really good enough for anyone. Why did I expect that I would be good enough for you?” 

Jungkook’s expression crumples into a frown. “Y/N, no, that’s not what I mean-”

“You don’t have to tell me what you mean, Jungkook. I meet you and the first thing you say is that you don’t believe in such a thing. I try to get close to you and all you know to do is push me away. And I try so hard to be enough but how can I when Yoojung still has your heart? So you don’t have to say it. I know what you mean.” You’ve stopped crying but the ache relents, and you can only look desperately at the boy who’s slipping from your grasp with every passing second. 

“I’m sorry.” The message is redundant.

“I can’t…” Rip off the bandaid. 

“I just can’t love you.”

The words make their way past his lips before he can stop them, and they shoot through your core ruthlessly. A sharpened dagger to soft flesh. It manifests itself in a physical pain that reverberates across your chest, and when the last strength left in you is used to stare at Jungkook through a pained and teary gaze, you are deaf to everything but those four words.

I can’t love you.

I can’t love you. 

I can’t love you. 

You’re not sure what he is sorry for at this point. If Jungkook is apologizing for not loving you, you don’t blame him. If he is sorry for entertaining the possibility, you don’t blame him. If he is sorry that you are the one with a crescent moon on your wrist, well...you don’t blame him either. All your life you cherished it like some kind of gift from the universe. Now, nursing your crumbling soul in front of Jungkook, you wish it had never appeared in the first place. 

You shake your head, tucking your lip in between your teeth to stop the sob in your chest from escaping. Through the crack of the door Jungkook hadn’t shut fully, the girl was still there, patiently sitting where you were supposed to and making herself scarce after inevitably hearing you bare your heart to a boy who had no interest in it. 

Humiliation goes hand in hand with heartbreak, and the embarrassment that comes with confessing your love and insecurity urges your feet to run home. But even you cannot deprive yourself of looking at him one more time. 

His wavy head of hair. The scar on his cheekbone that makes him look even more beautiful, if that were possible. The gloss in his dark brown eyes, and the way he looks at you through stone cold walls. You commit it to memory, however painful, before you walk out of his life. 

“Be happy, Jungkook.” 

You truly mean it. 

◐

 The sound of your footsteps getting farther away from him is a sound Jungkook thinks he’ll remember for a long time. It almost prompts him to run after you, cradle you to his chest, and profess how sorry he is again and again until you can truly feel the sincerity. But he doesn’t. Only remains behind the self-procured walls and watches when your figure disappears down the hallway. 

Cold. Unbothered. Indifferent. That’s what he had always told himself when it came to you. But the hallway feels so lonely and the ghost of your presence feels even lonelier, and Jungkook wonders if he had been wrong. 

He walks back into the studio, permanent frown on his face and shoulders hunched over in stress. The paintbrush feels like a stranger rather than an extension of his arm, as it always does, but Jungkook begins painting anyway. Looking at the girl in front of him, he is reminded of the look on your face when you realized he had replaced you completely in the span of three weeks, without even giving you a notice. Her presence in his art studio suddenly feels entirely suffocating. 

“Mina, Get out.” 

“What?”

“Get out of my studio. I don’t need you as a model, anymore. Thanks.” His voice cut through the tension of the room, like a hot knife to butter. He recognizes it as the voice he always forces himself to use around you, and grows even more aggravated. 

The girl scoffs annoyedly, snatching her handbag from the floor and rushing out of the room. Obviously she had thought something more was to come from Jungkook’s art arrangement. He made sure to let her know that was not the case. 

There is a gnawing in his chest. Deep and subtle, but it becomes more prominent as the window view from his studio turns from blue to black. He ponders about spending the night in here, instead of going home to his bedroom where he is forced to consult with the agony of solitude. On top of everything today, Jungkook doesn’t think he can handle that. 

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees the pain in your face when he tells you that he can’t love you and he hears the shaking in your voice when you tell him the things that weighed on your soul. He thought the word “wither” was only reserved for flowers. Jungkook didn’t realize a person could wither until he saw it right in front of him. 

In truth, he didn’t know. He didn’t know if he could love you or not. And to Jungkook, that was already a feat in itself. He’s spent so many months convincing himself that his emotional fortress was impregnable. So many nights over whiskey bottles telling himself that love was only for fools and pretenders. To be uncertain about love, now, well...that’s something he is not yet ready to admit to himself. Much less admit to you. But letting you any closer was a fatal game. 

Being uncertain about love means being uncertain about getting hurt. Jungkook has a feeling he wouldn’t make it out in one piece if his heart fell into wrong hands. 

He does end up returning to his apartment that night. But the walk feels far too long and the air feels far too frigid, or perhaps is it because he can’t hear the tread of your footsteps beside him? 

Whatever the reason, tonight feels more lonely.

The stars tell him it’s because he does not like the person he’s alone with. 

Back in room 62B, there is an abandoned painting on a rickety easel. He hadn’t even had the will to wash out his paintbrush, and he’s sure he’ll pay for it the next day. Looking at the piece now, his professor would tell him that there’s too many colors. Too much contrast and nearly not enough depth in his strokes. But what was he to do when he had kicked out his new model and couldn’t get the image of your visible heartbreak out of his brain? 

A familiar wrist with a quaint crescent moon sits on the canvas, and he sure as hell didn’t use Mina as the inspiration. Jungkook reminds himself to throw out the painting tomorrow morning. 

◓

The grease on Jimin’s skillet pan is always so hard to clean. The dish soap never truly cuts through the oil, and no matter how much you rinse it over with scalding water, it still feels soiled. On a normal day, it wouldn’t frustrate you so much. Today, a month-and-a-half after your soulmate made it clear to you that you had no place in his life, you want to throw the pan out the window and cry on the kitchen floor until it collapses with the weight of your tears. 

You settle for throwing down the sponge and making Jimin wash his own dishes.

The phone-that you usually now tend to ignore-buzzes on the counter, and you groan at your complete lack of desire to answer it. But the screen lights up with your roommate’s name and you hit the green button. 

“Y/N! How are you feeling, lovebug?” Jimin’s cheerful tone on speakerphone makes you want to cry. You can only imagine how terrible it is for him to be your roommate when all you know how to do now is mope and cry about a boy who probably hasn’t thought about you since. But he’s been holding you through all your breakdowns, and even sets up the air mattress on the floor of your bedroom when some nights are a little bit harder than most. 

“I’ve had better days”, you glare at the pan in the sink. “What’s up?’

“So I have a friend…”

“Jimin, no.” 

He sighs over the phone understandingly, but still not satisfied. “I know it’s only been a month Y/N, but it doesn’t have to be anything. He’s not looking for anything serious either. But maybe it would be good for you to take your mind off things.” 

It’s been a month. Four weeks. Roughly 31 days, and you still remember every word he said to you in the hallway of the art building. Every pause and quiver of his breath, and the way he looked so completely indifferent to your pain. Was one month enough for you to let go even after finding out Jungkook never planned to hold on in the first place?

“Look, you don’t have to decide now. I’m sorry for pushing you if you’re not ready.” His mumbling is apologetic and it makes you realize that Jimin genuinely means well. Maybe you weren’t ready to move on from Jungkook yet. Maybe you never will be. He was your damn soulmate, after all. But maybe a distraction couldn’t hurt.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll do it.” 

You can practically feel him smiling like an idiot over the phone. “Really?!” You sigh into the speaker and Jimin knows better to continue talking before you change your mind.

“His name is Namjoon, he works with me at the office. Super cute. Super hot. Super smart. Checks all your boxes!”, he rambles on about the nitty gritty details and though a part you is proud that you’re making the decision to move on with life, you can’t help but to realize that no one will ever be able to “check all your boxes”.

Not if they’re not Jungkook. 

“He sounds great, Jimin.” Anyone can tell your happiness is disingenuous, even through the phone. Jimin tells you that he had already planned a date (without your knowledge), and sends you on your way with a quick goodbye when his taxi arrives. The silence of the apartment after the conversation leaves you feeling even more weighted, but hopeful for the possibility of a distraction. You had a feeling you won’t be able to forget the likes of Jeon Jungkook if you tried. But, if only for a night, you were to forget the pain of loving him, you’ll take that chance. 

◑

“What do you mean they all ‘feel the same’?” Jungkook is exasperated. He had drafted a complete version of his portfolio, working through the nights by the sweat of his brow. Now his professor was telling him that all his pieces felt the same and Jungkook thinks he might commit arson to the art studio.

Professor Sejin sighs contemplatively, taking off his glasses and throwing them on the table, all too familiar with Jungkook’s periodic art tantrums. 

“I mean that your pieces lack any variegation. The portfolio is well done and coherent, but the completed package is one-noted. It’s consistent. But too much so.”

Professor Sejin’s words make him fall back into the chair dejectedly, shoulders slumped and disappointment in his eyes at the critique of his art. Though it is hard to hear, Jungkook always welcomes productive criticism. The older man sympathizes with his downcast eyes and the visible stress on his back. 

“Look, Jungkook”, he affirms sincerely, “you just need to find some dynamic. Something to make people know that you can do more than one tone of art.” It’s obvious that the professor has a soft spot for the boy in front of him, who looks like his entire world is collapsing. The portfolio folder is handed back to him and Jungkook has the urge to burn it and not hear the word “gallery” again in the next decade. 

“I have faith in you. You’ll figure out what it is that you’re missing.” The smile on the man’s face is congenial. Genuine. And even though he has an ambitious amount of work to do, Jungkook finds the will to nod, haul himself off the office chair, and begin the trek back to his studio. 

The pinnacle of spring is approaching and the sun shines brighter with each morning. Not that he would know or care. He’s spent the last month locking himself inside, dedicating every fluid ounce of energy towards completing his project. It’s been surprisingly easier, and Jungkook finds himself finishing paintings, sketches, and sculptures with ease. Like untapped inspiration had revealed itself to him suddenly. Yet it still wasn’t enough...at least not according to Professor Sejin. 

Headphones drown out the cacophony of hustlers and bustlers with the laughter of children as accompaniment. He doesn’t allow himself to enjoy the music of the city. Not anymore. It gives him too much space to think, and Jungkook has a feeling that’s not good for anyone and definitely not good for him. 

The sight of a familiar bakery with particularly delicious apple strudels is enough to stop him in his rush, feet winding down until he is standing outside, staring at the door and wondering if he could go in without being reminded of you. Well, it might be too late for that anyhow, but further signs of protest are halted when he hears his growling stomach. 

Jungkook had morbidly underestimated your presence in the memory of his favorite cafe. You are everywhere. He sees your smiling face when he looks up at the chalkboard menu, soul vying for you to be next to him and excitedly choosing a new fru-fru drink that would undoubtedly have excessive sugar. He hears your giggles ruminating through the cafe while the other patrons only hear the music over loudspeaker. He practically feels you near, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s better this way. No one gets hurt this way. 

Jungkook plops himself at a corner table and buries his face in his hands, fingertips soothing over his pulsing eyebags and wrinkles he’s gotten from sleep deprivation. He desperately needs an espresso shot. Or five. 

“Hey…”, a voice makes him snap his head up. Jungkook recognizes the stranger as the owner’s son, who always stands guard at the cash register. The tag on his lapel reads Kim Seokjin, and Jungkook has a distant memory of you gushing over how nice Seokjin’s hair was. He had acted unbothered back then, but Jungkook would die before telling a soul that he was annoyed and jealous when you thought the cashier was cute. 

“Jungkook, right?”. He has a kind smile and a natural air of invitation. Jungkook nods. 

“I’ve seen you around a lot. Where’s that girl you always come here with?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business”, he nearly hisses, antsy at the mere mention of you. He instantly regrets it though. Seokjin looks like he’s been cornered with a blunt weapon, and it makes Jungkook sigh at his own asshole-ishness. 

“I’m sorry”, he mumbles, “just not a good day. At all.” 

There is a pause and hesitation before the boy speaks. “Do you...wanna talk about it?” Seokjin’s question is met with silence. 

There is a predictability about Jeon Jungkook. He doesn’t open himself up to anyone. He pretends that he doesn’t have problems so well, people start to become convinced. He avoids new connections like it’s the plague. But there is something so idiosyncratic about Kim Seokjin that makes him want to talk. Makes him want to trust a complete stranger. 

So Jungkook nods, depositing his black backpack besides him and lets himself breathe deep. 

“Her name is Y/N….”

In the lukewarm air of the café, Jungkook tells Seokjin about you. About the tiny crescent moon on your wrist that identically matches his - even unwraps his cloth to show it - and how he pushed you away hard enough to put an ocean’s worth of distance between the two of you. He tells Seokjin about Yoojung and the stars on her skin that have been plaguing him since the day she left. He tells him about that damn portfolio that refuses to be finished; one that he apparently has to start over because Professor goddamn Sejin says it's too boring. He allows himself to unload, and wow is it easier to breathe when you talk about your feelings. Jungkook reminds himself to do that more often. 

The “conversation” seems to stretch for hours (if a conversation can be considered one person unleashing all their hidden baggage on the other while they sit in silence). Jin listens intently through the entire ordeal, offering occasional nods and encouragement for him to continue. When Jungkook finally finishes with a deep breath, falling back on the chair looking completely worn out, Jin fixes him with a hot tea before speaking.

“The portfolio is important to you, Jungkook. If it’s important to you, you’ll find a way. Something tells me that you’re not one to give up so easily”, he quips with a playful lilt in his voice. Jin’s genuine faith in him makes Jungkook believe in himself.

“And as for Yoojung, well, I can’t speak on your pain. You are the only one that narrates your experiences but as much as she seems like a villain in your story, perhaps she has opened a door.” Jungkook thinks his voice sounds far too wise to be coming from a guy in his 20’s.

“Would you have known how to nurse a broken heart had it not been for her? I’m sorry she did that to you, Jungkook, but..Yoojung is your past. And I see so much in your future.” 

Jungkook only stares into the abyss of his tea cup. The reflection that stares back is someone he desperately wants to learn to love. When he looks up again, there is a sad glimmer in Seokjin’s gaze. Something so despondent that he feels second-hand pain. 

Jin pulls up the sleeve of his knit sweater. On his wrist sits a faded marigold, so blanched it almost blends in with his skin and makes him wonder if it will just disappear one day. Jungkook feels his blood run cold.

“It’s been two years since she died”, he stares solemnly at his skin, “I don’t think a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about her.” 

Jungkook’s thought about his soulmate mark disappearing before. Even hoped and prayed for it the days after Yoojung left. But now, when he sees it up close on Seokjin’s wrist, Jungkook doesn’t want to wish that loneliness upon anyone. 

“She was so damn...persistent”, Jin laughs, fondness dripping in every word. “Like your Y/N in that way, I suppose. She had a goal and was hell-bent on achieving it. She was so kind and strong and much more of a badass than I could ever be. I loved that about her.” There is sorrow in his voice when he uses the past tense, and Jungkook feels even worse for pouring his heart out about his very alive soulmate. 

“She was studying to be a doctor, you know? Ironic that even the best doctors couldn’t have saved her in the end.” His sentence trails off and he loses focus gazing out the window, fidgeting with the ring on his left hand with a faraway look in his eyes. 

“I don’t mean to ramble about my dead soulmate for no reason, Jungkook. And I’m in no position to tell you what you should or should not do regarding Y/N. But if I could restart this life with my soulmate, there wouldn’t be one second I would waste not at her side.” Jin’s tone is not accusatory or convicting. Just honest.

“It’s normal to be scared and apprehensive. Hell, I would be more concerned if you weren’t going into it with a shit ton of skepticism. I was terrified. Yet out of the billions of people that could’ve had my mark on their wrist, just knowing that she was that one was enough for me to love her.”

The cup of tea has long gone cold. Jungkook only manages to stare at the mahogany table, thoughts too heavy to voice aloud, so Jin continues. 

“I think I would give anything to know that such a person still exists for me. Someone out there that was chosen by an unknown, cosmic force for an unexplainable reason just for me. To see a mark that matches my own. Well…”, Jin breathes deeply, tears welling in his eyes but not falling, “I think that must be the most wonderful thing in the entire world.”

◒

Seokjin’s words stick with him long after he has departed from the café. Long after the tea has settled in his stomach along with the weight of what a soulmate means to this stranger whose life story he has learned in the course of an evening. 

Even so, Jungkook’s not sure what he should feel. The fear of vulnerability still feels like a designated thundercloud above his head, and the thought of letting you past his walls makes Jungkook want to run the other way.

At the same time, the trepidation doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. It’s still there, and he can’t pinpoint exactly what happened but when he sees your smiling face behind his eyelids, Jungkook doesn’t feel scared. When he focuses on what you look like under sunlight, or your eyes staring at him through a camera lens, there is no fear of the broken heart you could leave him with. Just something warm. Something that feels an awful lot like...love?

 But what does Jungkook know about such things? 

He shrugs it off his shoulders, and readies himself for a night of inevitably restless sleep. He blames it on the impending due date of his beloved portfolio, but really, it is you. You and your insistence on trying every single coffee shop in the city. You and your convoluted idea of a date; letting your partner choose the location with their eyes closed. You and…

Just everything about you. 

He falls asleep well into 4am. The thin strap of cloth sits on his bedside table. Even if it is only for the night sky to see, Jungkook lets his soulmate mark breathe. 

◐

It’s been so long since you’ve dressed up or cleaned up to go out anywhere, the reflection that stares back feels like a stranger. You’ve opted for a bold red lip, meticulously applying your makeup so that even the wing of your eyeliner was sharp enough to kill. Jimin forced you to curl your hair too, of course. The girl in the mirror looks beautiful. You know that she is beautiful.

So why is it that you can only see the face that is not enough for Jeon Jungkook? A person that he is unable to love. No, not even foundation can cover the face of longing.

“Y/N”, Jimin sing-songs, “hurry! You don’t wanna be late do you?” No, you don’t want to be late. You want to not go. Maybe retreat to your bedroom and cry the night away again. But you won’t tell him that when he is so clearly ecstatic that you’re spending a night out for the first time in months. 

The restaurant looks like it is entirely out of your budget. Well, you reckon any restaurant is out of your budget with all the debt that looms overhead and your painfully apparent unemployment. Waiting for Namjoon is less than exhilarating, and you spend the time fiddling with your bracelet that conveniently covers the crescent moon. These days, you can’t bear to look at it anymore. Your eyes are glued to the little mark, before a voice sounds from across the table.

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was insane. You must be Y/N, nice to meet you.” You weren’t sure what you expected Kim Namjoon to look like but were pleasantly surprised. Namjoon looks like he takes care of himself, neat and clean and sporting a very shiny watch that looks like 4 months’ worth of rent. 

“And you must be Namjoon. Likewise.” 

When he pulls out the chair to sit down, you can’t help but to notice the cloud on his wrist. It was smaller than yours but you had no doubt it felt just as heavy. If Namjoon felt your gaze on his skin, he did nothing to show it. 

“Hey, I know I just got here but…”, he sighs and takes a look around the room, “do you wanna get out of here? Find the cheapest and greasiest food we can?” His request makes you smile, and you grab the purse that rested on the table. 

“Namjoon, I think that’s the best idea you’ve had yet.” 

You and Namjoon manage to find a diner that wasn’t far from the fancy restaurant, and you thank the skies that you didn’t have to pay $50 for a salad tonight. Just some pocket change for quite possibly the best and oiliest hamburger you’ve ever had. 

By conversation that happens through mouthfuls of food and faces smeared with milkshake residue, you come to learn that Namjoon is an unsurprisingly nice guy. He studies poetry, but is working as a secretary at an office, hence his connection to Jimin. He loves to garden and talks about his bonsai plants to you like they’re his kids, even pulling up pictures on his phone and gazing down at them fondly. It makes you smile. He plays the piano, and likes to take long bike rides when the weather permits. 

It’s nice to have someone reciprocate your effort. It’s something you haven’t experienced in a long time, all credit to one Jeon Jungkook. Namjoon is warm in all the corners where Jungkook is cold. 

In a word, he is pretty damn perfect. And if he had a crescent moon on his wrist, you probably wouldn’t bat an eye or have a lick of doubt in the universe. He encompasses everything you want, so alike you in so many aspects it makes you wary. If Namjoon had your matching soulmate mark, you would already be in love with him. 

But he doesn’t. And that thought alone keeps you from feeling anything but platonicity. He is not Jungkook. You don’t think anyone can make you feel the way Jungkook does. You want to curse the stars for making this so. 

It’s well into the night, and you both remain planted in the diner booth, chatting and chuckling over a plate of french fries. It’s when you drift off while he’s talking about his latest attempt at focaccia that Namjoon sighs and sits back in the seat. 

“What?”, you confusedly ask after he suddenly stops speaking.

He smiles. Stays silent for a couple seconds. Then speaks. 

“So what did your soulmate do to you?”

His question catches you off guard and you can only stare at him, frown on your face and words lost on your tongue. 

“You’ve been staring into space every 5 minutes this whole night, and fidgeting with your bracelet so much I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off”, he explains, tenderness and sympathy in his tone. 

“Every time I speak, you have this sad look in your eyes and I have a feeling you’re imagining someone else’s face, Y/N. I’ve enjoyed talking to you...a lot. But I can tell you want to be somewhere else so”, Namjoon places his elbows on the table and gazes at you endearingly, “tell me about your soulmate.” 

You stare at Namjoon through shocked eyes, glistening with the onset of tears that you manage to keep from escaping. Gosh, you were pathetic. Already wanting to cry at the mere mention of him. Or maybe the fact that someone could see through your facade. You take a deep breath. 

“His name is Jeon Jungkook.” Your voice quivers, and Namjoon continues listening intently. You are reluctant to continue because you know that once this conversation begins, there is a chance you might have to confront yourself again with the pain of loving someone who doesn’t want love. You internally apologize to Namjoon in advance, for you might cry on this first date. 

“I…I’m completely head over heels in love with him  but after everything, I’m not sure I have the slightest clue what love is. Because what sane person can fall in love with a person who has made it clear that that love wouldn’t be reciprocated from the get go?”

You fiddle with the plastic straw in your milkshake, searching for the courage to go on and tell him about every thought that you have denied yourself the satisfaction of verbalizing. 

“He loves apple strudels, you know. Eats them every time like they’re the last apple strudels he’ll ever have and he doesn’t give a damn who’s watching”, you chuckle, gaze drifting off to space. There is a fondness in your eyes as you speak, and Namjoon does not miss it. 

“He’s as punctual as the day is long. One time I was late to a photoshoot and he almost made me cry lecturing me about the importance of being on time. But now I’m never late.” 

The memory makes you, as well as Namjoon, smile. 

“He paints like his life depends on it, and he’ll get oil paint on his face without noticing and sometimes I just want to reach out and wipe it off. But I think he’d murder me on the spot.”

“How come?”, Namjoon offers his first words in the midst of your monologue. You’re not sure what to say next. 

“Well...I think Jeon Jungkook might be the coldest person I’ve ever met”, you dejectedly sigh. Reality tastes bitter even with remnants of whipped cream on your lips. 

“Every time I was around him, it felt like I was willingly breaking my own heart just for the chance to know that he was next to me. That in this entire world of billions of people, the one with the same moon on their wrist was next to me. And...I guess I didn’t really need him to love me yet”, your gaze locks onto Namjoon and you find he is already staring at you with utmost curiosity and subtle pity. 

“Jungkook alone was enough. I just wish he could have felt the same about me.” 

Perhaps the reason why the truth is so painful to speak is because people have a tendency to run from it. Then when it catches up to you, it’s a harsh trip and fall to the rocky ground. There is no cushion when you land. 

Namjoon doesn’t offer advice. Doesn’t dish his own experiences to relate to your own or even make any comments from his perspective. He just sits and listens in silence, but it doesn’t feel like he is disregarding you. No, his eyes tell you that he soaks in every word. You hope you’ll get the chance to do the same for him...if he ever decides to share his story with you. 

The two of you leave the diner with a prospective to be friends, and no plans of a future second date. You had a strong feeling that spending the entire evening talking about your unrequited soulmate love had something to do with that. Nevertheless, though Namjoon didn’t work out as a distraction, you were glad to have met him. It made you realize something.

Even if Jimin thought you were ready to move on. Even if you thought you were ready to forget. It might be a lifetime before you finally let go of that boy.

◓

The morning reeks of rain and dew, humidity nearly clawing its way through his window and turning his apartment into a swamp. When he wakes up, it is not to his blaring alarm clock, but the uncomfortable sensation of a sweaty shirt sticking to his back. Jungkook groans, already tired of this day. It seems hopeless from the beginning. 

As much as he wanted to stay home and crank up the air conditioner so much that his landlord would come running, Professor Sejin’s voice reverberates through his eardrums.

You art is too one-noted, Jungkook.

Be better, Jungkook.

You’re talentless and will never succeed, Jungkook. 

Of course, these are not Professor Sejin’s verbatim, more so Jungkook’s own mind that twists his teacher’s constructive criticism into something else. He is a master at feeding his insecurity.

Jungkook chugs down a lukewarm cup of black coffee, and his stomach growls for something with a little more sugar and maybe a dash of rainbow colored sprinkles. He guesses he has you to thank for that. The art studio is always a daily destination, and this day is no different. Jungkook has a plan to dedicate himself to fixing his portfolio and maybe finish that clay piece he never got around to. 

The studio is too cold for his liking; Jungkook can’t remember how many times he has begged the superintendent to lower the AC. The cold he can deal with. The loneliness, however, is a different story. Jungkook is always alone. Alone when he’s in his apartment. Alone when he’s in class. Alone when he’s in the art room. These days, aloneness feels more haunting when he knows he had the option to escape it, but chose to stay. A part of him is ready to admit that it’s because of you. 

Jungkook hums a random melody that had been stuck in his head since the morning, fingers gliding over the slick sculpting clay. The days are easier now. He doesn’t think about you so much when the sun is out and there is the bustling of the busy city to distract him. The nights, however, are just as difficult as they have been. Jungkook’s last drifting thought is of you, and your face torturously carries over to each dream. Like his entire being misses you but he refuses to accept it. 

He takes a deep sigh in relief once the sculpture feels finished. Professor Sejin wanted something more dynamic, so there: his very own realist clay piece drawing inspiration from Praxiteles’ sculpture of Aphrodite. He sits back in pride, admiring his own handiwork and giving himself a mental pat on the back. It looks great. Perfect even. It looks….

It looks like you. 

Jungkook pales at the realization as the clay face stares back at him. No, this was supposed to be Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and love, inspired by the ancient Greek artist that sculpted her. Then why does she have your nose? Those eyes are definitely your’s and even those cheeks are identical. Jungkook hadn’t even realized that in the rhythm of his art, he got lost and accidentally sculpted your face instead. 

He walks away from the clay table and hurriedly yanks off the soiled apron around his waist, confusion swimming in every cell of his body. How had he just...made a sculpture of you? With no knowledge that he was doing it?

Jungkook leans with his back against the sink, staring down at the floor with furrowed brows and a thundering heart. With a sudden epiphany, Jungkook leaps from his position and pulls out all the canvases, printed photographs, graphite drawings, and clay pieces he’s made for the past few months. Everything he can grab in the small studio space. 

It is then that he comes to the daunting realization:

Holy shit.

Professor Sejin was right.

 Everything feels the same. His whole portfolio has one note and no dynamic or diversity because...well, because all of his pieces are of you. Not you, necessarily, but your breath has come alive on his art in some way, shape, or form. 

The multimedia painting he made two weeks ago using polystyrene sheets was supposed to mimic sunlight through a stained glass window, but Jungkook hadn’t even noticed he'd drawn the window of the café you dragged him to on its opening day. And the colors of the glass is just the twinkle of your eyes when they stare back into his. 

The photoset he spent hours taking around the city, after taking a 15 minute train ride, were just repeats of all the places you two went to that one day. The book store. The park. The streetlight where Yoojung stopped him. He hadn’t even realized he only saved the photos associated with a subconscious memory of you. 

Jungkook can’t explain it, but he feels you in every single picture. Every piece of art that his hands have manifested since you walked into his life, stupid smile on your face and that little moon on your wrist. He feels it...and call it artist’s intuition or something but perhaps that’s why Professor Sejin could feel it too. 

Even though he stopped making you his muse months ago, you are still the root of inspiration for whatever he’s produced since. And if that’s not enough to finally tell him what he needs to hear. Finally make him realize that he’s fallen in love with you without even knowing it, the universe doesn’t know what will. 

The minutes it has been since he realized your place in his life melts like slow dripping honey, feeling like an eternity when it is mere moments. Jungkook regains his focus in the haze. He knows what you mean to him now, but there was something he had to fo first. 

He swipes all his paintbrushes and palette knives to the side, sweat on his brow as he furiously rearranges his portfolio. He takes out the pictures of Mina - no one would miss them anyway - and trashes all the photos he took before he met you. He only uses the art he’s created post-Y/N and tucks them in the manila folder so rapidly, there’s paper cuts on his fingers. But he doesn’t feel them. Jungkook has only one objective. 

He snaps a picture of the new clay sculpture he’s just finished. The photo goes into the portfolio with the name ‘Aphrodite’, but Jungkook knows better about whose face that truly belongs to. Not that anyone would bat an eye. He thinks you are as beautiful as the goddess herself. 

The trip to Professor Sejin’s office is short, unsurprising though, since Jungkook sprints the whole way there. When he arrives, and the professor can only stare as he’s bent over and huffing violently trying to catch his breath, Jungkook reminds himself to spend less time at the studio and more time on the cardio. 

He throws the portfolio onto the man’s desk unceremoniously, nearly collapsing on the chair across from him and not ready to speak yet. Professor Sejin confusedly rifles through the folder quickly, too quickly, and sighs, ready to offer Jungkook yet the same critique again. 

He opens his mouth, but Jungkook cuts him off. 

“Before you say anything…”, he gulps, finally ready to admit the truth to himself. 

“I want you to know that I’ve met my soulmate, a-and there’s a reason why you feel that my portfolio is all the same. There’s a reason why you feel it’s all one-noted or that there’s no progression.” Jungkook takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, and you are there behind his lids. 

“It’s because she sowed the seeds for all of them. Everything. Those paintings and photos and sculptures are just symptoms of what I’ve been feeling this whole time after meeting her. She’s practically the artist, not me.” Professor Sejin stays silent at his monologue, gaze unreadable but eyes sharp and trained solely on Jungkook. 

“Maybe...Maybe art doesn’t need to be super variegated all the time. Maybe it’s supposed to be a cohesive unit and the pieces should string to each other. Maybe paintings should have a relationship to photos and them, to sculptures. Maybe you’re just...wrong.” 

He is exasperated and passion flows out of him through every pore. Jungkook looks expectantly at his professor, who has the open folder in his hand and still in the process of taking in his words. When the adrenaline starts to fade, he realizes that he just dissed his venerable teacher. 

“With all due respect…”, he coughs, “sir.” 

Professor Sejin lets Jungkook spend the next couple minutes in complete torturous silence so that he can finish reviewing his portfolio. The tension is cut with the sound of the man’s hands slapping together as he closes the folder. Jungkook prepares himself for a stern lecture.

However, when he looks up, there is a smile on the man’s face. There’s no malice there, or even disdain. He pulls off his glasses, sets them on the table, and sits back in the office chair, arms folded over his chest. Jungkook can feel his heart threatening to pound past his rib cage. 

“Jungkook…”, Professor Sejin declares, “I think you’ve got a contender for the gallery spot.” 

◑

If someone had asked you what Jeon Jungkook meant to you, you would look them in the eye and tell them that he meant nothing. Because it’s easier to pretend that someone does not mean anything to you after they pretend that you do not exist. That the universe had not given you both matching marks and deemed that your souls were meant for each other. Jeon Jungkook is a stranger to you. One that you wanted so badly to love. But you’ve come to learn that no matter how hard you try; you can’t love someone who doesn’t want to love at all.

So the days trickle by as they usually do. Painstakingly slow and viscous with memories of a boy named Jeon Jungkook and the way he has hurt you enough to last a little bit over forever. 

“I understand why you don’t want to go, Y/N. But aren’t you the least bit curious? Especially after that fancy invitation in the mail?” Jimin’s query is innocent. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make your blood boil. 

“I don’t know...the thought of going to my soulmate’s grand art gallery when the last time we spoke, he told me he can’t love me, just doesn’t seem appealing Jimin”, you snark, burying your face into the bowl of cereal you are now spooning far too aggressively. 

“But...it’s been months. And he wouldn’t have sent you an invitation if he didn’t want you to come.” 

This conversation has happened too frequently since that red envelope arrived at your apartment. You cried your eyes out when you opened it, both out of pride for Jungkook and the fact that no matter what you did, the universe found a way to keep you from moving on. 

A sigh heaves through your chest, and the cereal is abandoned by your loss of appetite. “I’m not going to show up there and have him tell me again all of the reasons he can’t be with me. I barely survived it last time.” 

“But what if, Y/N?”

There is a glimmer in Jimin’s eye and he radiates so much hopefulness for you, you can’t help but to feel it too. 

“Isn’t the what if already enough? You used to tell me that Jungkook was worth anything. Isn’t he worth the risk this time too?”

You don’t have anything else to say after that because as much as you hate to admit, perhaps Jimin is right. Jungkook is worth going through anything for, even if he wants to stay as far away as possible. Call it a fluke in the postal system that the invitation to his gallery landed on your doorstep, but can you allow yourself to read between the lines and dare say that he sent it himself? Can you put yourself through such a perilous thing like optimism?

Jungkook has left you battered and broken for the past months. But you would give your heart to him to break all over again if he asked. 

◒

To say that you did not fit in with those dawdling around the art gallery was a gross understatement. You didn’t just not fit in. Your entire presence and aura defied every expectation, and suddenly, watching the upper echelon of the city mingle with champagne and gaze critically at Jungkook’s art, makes every breath feel like an insecurity. 

The boy in question was nowhere in sight, and you now regret not dragging Jimin with you. The invitation had specifically prohibited plus one’s, and though Jimin whined to no end about his hurt feelings and emptily promised never to talk to Jungkook again, you managed to keep him home. Now, you wish you were back at the apartment with him.

The pieces were, in short, completely breathtaking (to no surprise, of course, this was Jungkook you were talking about). Though you knew he always held doubt in himself, in the short time he allowed you to be in his life, you had never once thought he was anything less than spectacular. Yet you could not allow yourself to completely enjoy them. Each brushstroke and paint color you remember from his palettes, or the filters on the photos that you helped him with, was agonizing to look at. 

You are standing in front of a canvas titled “Windowlight” when a man comes up beside you. He nurses a flute of bubbly champagne and makes no move to gain eye contact. Unknown to you, Professor Sejin knows exactly who you are. He’s seen your face in his student’s portfolio one too many times. 

“Artful use of mixed media, isn’t it?”, he mutters.

“I suppose so.” 

“He’s quite the prodigy. Have you met him yet? I’m sure he’s lurking around somewhere.” The man takes a sip from his glass, smirk on his lips hidden from your eyes that still blankly stare ahead.

“Yes. He’s a...friend.” We share a soulmate mark. He hates my guts. 

He hums a sound of affirmation and you ignore the weird feeling it leaves in your stomach; one that tells you this stranger sees right through you. 

“Ah, how rude of me. Professor Sejin. Arts director and senior advisor.” He spares you a brief glance, but you make no move to shake his hand or pretend to be courteous. You don’t have the energy for it tonight. Just being in this building, surrounded by everything Jungkook has touched, makes you want to collapse into yourself. 

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” He speaks nonchalantly, and you almost miss the fact that you never told him your name. Your brows crease in confusion and you are ready to turn and interrogate the stranger, but he is already walking away, gliding smoothly across the gallery. Before he gets too far, though, Sejin cranes his neck and makes eye contact. 

“Oh, and be sure to visit the one called ‘Moon’. It’s upstairs, next to the Aphrodite sculpture on the second level exhibit”, he entreats, a suspicious lilt in his voice.

“Something tells me you’ll appreciate its…sincerity.”

Honestly, you’re not sure what you expected when you came to Jungkook’s art gallery tonight. But to be approached by a stranger who already knows your name, who dubiously instructs you to seek out a mystery art piece, was not on the list of expectations. Still...Professor Sejin’s words made you curious. 

Through the night, your eyes subconsciously seek out that familiar head of fluffy brown hair and a tall gait that always seems to stick out, even in a large crowd. It was as if Jungkook versed himself in complete camouflage, so much so that you began to doubt that he was even in the building.  

The traipse through the gallery is done in silence and solitude, and you tune out the sounds of popping champagne and raucous laughter coming from the second floor, as the patrons undoubtedly banter over which piece to auction off. You hope he keeps them. You’ve never seen someone appreciate art the way that Jungkook does. 

You catch sight of a few pieces that you recognize, ones that you remember him showing you when he had finished. You always excitedly told him every single one was a masterpiece, and Jungkook only rolled his eyes and made minimal effort at hiding the blush on his cheeks. Your steps falter when you come across a set of photographs in black and white, set in consecutive frames next to each other and it feels so warm despite the lack of color. Jungkook just had that special talent when it came to photography. 

It’s the bookstore. In the city during the impromptu train ride you had coerced him to take. Your heart catches in your throat as you recognize all the other ones immediately because well...you’ve been to all those spots. A familiar pressure builds in the back of your eyes, and you swallow down a whimper of pain. 

The urge to leave becomes too strong. But not strong enough to quell the slow burn of curiosity from Professor Sejin. There is a chance that you might not run into Jungkook at all tonight with the vast space and people bumbling through the corridors. It hurts to think that you might never see him again at all, but you’ll allow yourself another indulgence. Something is calling you. 

Moon. He titled it Moon? You grip onto your wrist reflexively and run your thumb over the mark, like you did when you were younger and still had hope for soulmates. The pulsepoint there beats under your finger and lets you know how alive you are. Compels you to give into your curiosity, even if it might decimate your already crumbling heart. The stairs that lead up to the second floor are short, but the trek feels like it knocks the wind out of you, or perhaps that was just the anticipation of what was waiting for you on the other side.

You were right to be scared. Because right in the smack dab center of the circular room is where you see it, and your gasp is one that can be heard from each wall and corner. 

A painting of you. A portrait from the waist up, with oil paint and so much detail, Jungkook has even managed to line the shallow wrinkles by your eyes when you smile. You have never considered yourself beautiful in any sense but the way he has captured you on canvas starts to make you believe that you truly are. You feel Jungkook in each streak of the brushstroke where he hadn’t spread the color evenly. It is as if the painting is alive, and though you are staring at yourself, it doesn’t feel like the way it does in the mirror. Doesn’t feel like a reflection. 

No, this feels like looking through Jungkook’s eyes. It is what he sees in you, rather than what you see in yourself. And what he sees is beautiful. Through the haze of shock and confusion as to why he chose this as the centerpiece, you don’t notice the warm presence that lurks behind you. The one that has watched your every move since you walked into this building. 

“Yeah, that’s my favorite one too.” 

You whip your head around so quick it nearly gives you whiplash, but the sight of him is the nail in the coffin. Jungkook is cleaned up in a black suit, and an unfamiliar smile on his lips he rarely lets you see. A genuine one that he’s tried to hide so many times but now that it’s clear and up close, you resent him for keeping it from you. 

Jungkook is just as gorgeous as the day you lost him. 

But looking at him hurts. You don’t know why you’re even here, and why he sent the invitation, or why he was standing in front of you now and there is not a sliver of antipathy in his eyes. You don’t know why your face is plastered in the center of the gallery. Most of all, you don’t know why you are still weak in the knees for Jeon Jungkook. 

“Although, I have to say, it was a close race between this one and the pictures I made you take at the lake, when you nearly dunked me in the river because it was so cold”, he breathily laughs but you aren’t able to get through the shock just yet. If Jungkook notices your starstruck state, he doesn’t let it affect him. 

“And I definitely have to give some credit to the one I painted after you told me about your dream”, Jungkook prattles on, “where you were a mermaid who planted peaches under the sea, remember? That’s an honorable mention.” 

These memories make you want to smile but in this moment, the best you can do is try to hold yourself together when your eyes begin to warm with tears. Jungkook stays silent when you do. He notices you haven’t said a word and your gaze refuses to meet his. 

“Why are you doing this, Jungkook?”, you curse yourself when your voice cracks. “Why are you telling me these things? Haven’t you hurt me enough?” Jungkook’s smile drops off his face, and for once, you can see your own pain reflected in his eyes. 

He takes a deep breath, hands hanging limply at his side that itch to wrap themselves around yours. To feel your skin. Feel your mark. 

“I…”, he hesitates in his words, “I remember that day every night when I go to sleep, Y/N. Every time I shut my eyes, I just see your face when I told you I can’t love you, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt such aching before. Not even when she left me.” Jungkook’s voice is tinted with desperation but it just makes your walls rise higher. 

He’s lying to you. Your tongue wants to protest, but he continues. 

“I see you in everything”, Jungkook breathes out, like he is also admitting it to himself. 

“The paintbrushes I can never put down to the black coffee I force myself to drink nowadays because the ones I actually like, the ones with too much whipped cream and vanilla syrup, just reminds me of you.” His brows are knitted, and his feet vie to step closer to your quivering form. But you look like a caged animal about to bolt at any moment. 

“And when I’m reminded of you, I am reminded of…”, he gulps down the fear, “I’m reminded of how I am utterly in love with someone who deserves so much more than what I have put them through.”

The blood that runs through your veins drops to subzero temperatures, and you swear in the split millisecond that you have absorbed what he’s just said, your heart ceases its beating. The world stops turning, and the waves still for a brief moment. You can’t find any words just yet, but Jungkook can see straight through you and your stupefied expression. 

“Y-you’re lying to me, Jungkook. Stop lying.” 

“I’m not lying, please…” Jungkook knows he’s losing you by the second, but he’s promised you he would persist. He just wants you to listen. Wants you to feel how sorry he is, and how his soul screams to be next to your’s. 

“I can’t explain how it happened. Like it was an epiphany. Like someone has been screaming at me and I had been ignoring them, and that someone was my own heart.” Jungkook doesn’t stumble over his words once. He does not stutter because it is the plain white truth. 

“Stop, Jungkook.”

“It’s been knocking on the door of my chest and when I finally let it in, it just yells and shouts ‘oh my god, you’re in love’ and then I realized oh my god, i’m in love. In between painting you and convincing myself that soulmates meant nothing to me, I’ve completely and unquestionably fallen in love with you, Y/N.” 

Jungkook can’t decipher the look on your face. Something between the lines of disbelief and heartbreak, and it makes him want to split at the seams at the pain he’s put you through. How he’s convinced you you’re impossible to love. He vows to make it right again.

“Jungkook-”

“And you’re wrong, you know. You’re not hard to love. Hell, I was dead set on never loving again and you managed to make me so smitten, I can’t paint or draw a damn thing without including some aspect of you in it.” Jungkook steps back and gestures to all the canvases and photos that hang on the wall. 

“Take a look around, Y/N. It’s all you. Every piece.” Once he says it, you finally notice Every piece of art in this room can be traced to you, or a memory you two share. It’s so clear, you don’t know how you missed it before. You feel yourself in the art Jungkook has poured his soul into. Instead of making you feel elated, these words that you’ve been waiting your entire life to hear just ignites the sting. 

“Just stop. Please.” It is only a weak whisper through your lips, and he ignores it. 

“If you can’t forgive me, I get it Y/N. I can’t forgive myself either. But can you just know that you are enough. You are more than what I deserve. And I know you told me to be happy, but there is no way I can possibly do that without you.” 

When your gaze falls to the floor, you notice that his wrist is clean of any bracelets or watches. Come to think of it, this is one of the first times you are seeing it clear and in the flesh. Jungkook doesn’t tell you, but nowadays, he doesn’t allow anything to impede on the sight of the crescent moon.

When your guard is down and you are distracted, he finds the perfect time to finally reach forward and take your hand in his. His touch is gentle when it wraps around your wrist, tugging off the ribbon that circled it, and revealing the matching mark. Your pulse jumps under his fingers, and skips a beat when he runs a thumb over the moon. You are already melting with such simple contact, and you almost allow yourself to succumb. Almost.

It’s as if suddenly his skin was scalding, and you snatch your wrist from his grasp at lightning speed. The tears that have strayed down your face are wiped away as quickly as they came. The surprise on his face is missed by your eyes because before he can comprehend what is happening, you are bolting down the staircase and out the glass doors of the gallery. No, you cannot forgive him yet. What would you do if he hurt you again? You don’t think you would survive. 

You ignore the pain of seeing his art pieces as you run, now that you know you are the muse behind them all. The only noise is the sound of blood rushing in your ears, and you are oblivious to the racket of Jungkook’s shoes clapping against marble flooring as he chases after you, expertly dodging the other patrons and butlers holding trays of champagne. 

And Jungkook? Well, he is oblivious to the complete turmoil that runs through your every nerve. He only sees your back, and not the way you bite your lip painfully to keep the sobs from escaping. Not the way your pain is exhibited clear as day in the crease of your eyebrow and the wrinkle of your nose. 

The air outside is so cold it bites at your nostrils, but makes it easier to breathe. The wind calms the thundering heart in your chest.

He must be lying. There was no way he had a change of heart now, not when he was so rooted in his belief before. There is no virtual possibility, on any plane of existence, on any dimension where Jeon Jungkook has fallen in love with you. 

Right?

The hand that circles around your wrist tightly to keep you from getting any farther tells you that you are wrong. He did come after you. Jungkook’s strength forces you to stop running, but you can’t find the courage to turn around and face him just yet. But you don’t make an effort to pull away, and he takes it as progress.

“You can run if you want, Y/N. You can walk away from me and from us, but don’t doubt that I’ll always be chasing after you. For as long as it takes.” He is panting and speaking through heavy breaths, but you hear him. Loud and clear. 

“I won’t let you leave again. Not like last time.”

There is no malice. No coldness, and for the first time since you’ve met him, his words feel like warm honey instead of monotone ice. He is utterly distraught when you turn around slowly, hesitant like you’re afraid he will break your heart right then and there. 

His heart shatters at the wetness at your waterline, and the way you look up at him; completely vulnerable and scared. 

“Do you promise?” 

There is a lot of weight in your three-word question. It’s not as innocent as meets the eye, and Jungkook knows it. He feels it. When you ask him if he promises, it is an invitation back to you. You are offering him your heart, which he has already broken and bruised, and trusting him to be careful with it this time around. Jungkook already knows he loves you. And if you let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure this promise remains unbroken. 

“I promise.” 

It’s a commitment. One he used to be terrified of making, but it seems so easy when it’s for you. 

And when you fly forward to wrap your arms around him, Jungkook feels like home. Like the stars twinkle a little brighter and the earth stops spinning for a mere second, just for the two of you. You feel him squeeze you closer, just as tightly, and Jungkook wants to kick himself for depriving you both of a simple thing called love. 

You are here, souls and now bodies intertwined, and Jungkook lets the pain of past hurt fall away. Pain is so miniscule when you are by his side. When you pull back, Jungkook frowns at your red-rimmed eyes, and the tears that still persist. He wipes it away oh so softly, as if you were delicate clay and he, a sculptor. 

“Please don’t cry anymore, princess, it breaks my heart. I’m so sorry.” It is the softest, most sugary tone you’ve ever heard out of him. But hearing affection from his lips makes you feel that perhaps all of this sorrow, this longing, has been worth it. He has been worth it. He always has. 

“I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook’s words are almost as beautiful as he is. 

His lips are familiar when you lean forward and kiss him. Yet they are different. This time, the hands on your waist hold you a bit more carefully, even closer if that were possible. You can feel his thudding heart as it beats against your own, learning to match rhythms with each other, and Jungkook cradles your face in his hand like you are the only artwork he has truly been proud of. 

And it’s true. All the canvases and paints and camera film seem wasted now. Nothing he ever makes will be quite as alluring as the art he holds in his arms in this moment. 

“I love you too, you goddamn idiot.”

You meant it all those months ago, and you mean it now. If Jeon Jungkook was the sun, you would gladly change your name to Icarus. If Jeon Jungkook was the moon, then you are the tides that he pushes and pulls. If Jeon Jungkook belonged to you, well...you don’t have to imagine that anymore. He is your’s, as you are his. 

Old habits die hard, but they are not immortal. They wax and wane, and remind you that in the cosmic vastness of things, you are only human. Humans whose hearts beat in tandem and souls made to complete the other. Humans with identical crescent moons, lost but now found.

Old habits die hard. But you have learned to fix those of a broken heart. 

☾

[yandere-dandelion]

Cherry Wine: Yandere!Izuku/Bully!Reader

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy my writing!

There were a bunch of different ways this request could have been interpreted— maybe Izuku wants revenge against his bully, maybe he’s deluded himself into thinking bullying is a love language, maybe he’s worried his bully is being abused so he kidnaps them, maybe he just likes being bullied. I leaned more towards the last three in this, I hope it’s what you wanted.

Gender neutral reader, no smut

Izuku doesn’t know why he’s so obsessed with you. You treat him like he’s dirt— less than dirt, actually. You treat him like he’s scum.

And you’re right to! He’s worthless compared to you! But you take the time to beat him up every day, and you touch him more than anyone else, even if it’s just to hurt him! You two must have something special. Deep down, you must love him, and this is how you show it!

Izuku treasures the scrapes and bruises that blossom on his skin like bouquets of roses and violets because they show that you touched him. To him, they’re gifts, tokens of your affection. He’s sad when they fade, but inevitably you’ll give him more.

He looks forward to every beating. When you shove him to the ground and he looks up at you, the sun behind you looks like a halo. You’re an avenging angel.

When you look down at Izuku, your eyes glint with malice—what beautiful eyes! Your beauty is breathtaking— or maybe he’s just winded from a particularly harsh kick to his stomach. When you stomped on his notebook and ripped the pages out, he kissed the boot print you left behind and placed the torn and dirtied paper in his shrine to you.

A few other items in Izuku’s shrine:

- A cup you drank out of

- Your chewed up bubblegum. He might have put it in his mouth after you spat it out on him, but he also might have been too scared to tarnish it with his own saliva.

- Endless pictures of you, all candid. Some were taken from afar, some from behind, some from outside your window, and some from in your room as you slept.

- Pencils and pens you’ve used, especially if you’ve chewed on them.

- Your dirty clothes. He steals them from your room when he sneaks in and uses them as a pillowcase or holds them as he sleeps, imagining it’s you. He feels bad about stealing from you, but he can’t help it! Like clockwork, he returns them to you when they lose their scent, and steals them again when he needs his fix of you.

A few things in Izuku’s notebook:

- A long, detailed entry about your quirk— he’s seen it in action many times when you used it against him. It’s magnificent, just like you.

- A long, detailed entry about you as a person— the foods you eat, the clothes you wear, the places you go, your smell, your sleeping position, your schedule, every mundane detail he can find. Some of these things you don’t even know about yourself.

- Countless drawings of you. Some of his drawings are familiar scenes of your face twisted into a hateful snarl or a sadistic smile, or more mundane images of you eating lunch, talking with your friends, or bored in your room. Others are more imaginative sketches of you smiling, laughing, or moaning.

- Long, detailed fantasies about you. As much as Izuku loves it when you’re mean to him, he would love it even more if you were kind. He fantasizes about your hands touching him gently instead of roughly, your beautiful voice saying sweet words instead of cruel ones, your gorgeous eyes looking at him with love instead of disgust. He fantasizes about you protecting him from his other bullies— you’re probably strong enough to fight them all off on your own. The scrapes and bruises on his skin can attest to that. He fantasizes about the life he’ll have with you— it’s all planned out, to the very last detail.

And as much as Izuku loves it when you’re mean to him, he’s worried about you. Is everything okay at home? Is that why you’re so violent, because someone’s hurting you? The very thought enrages him. He learned a few things from you, and he’s ready to do anything to protect you.

Endnotes:

Tumblr deleted the entire thing and I had to rewrite all of it.

Cherry Wine by Hozier fits this fic very well I think

Yeah. Also there’s a lyric from a song called I/me/myself that my friend sent while I was writing this and

Also I got distracted while writing this and ended up looking at bullying stock images and there’s so much sexual tension. This is you and Izuku

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 30 - Epilogue [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Omg here it is my loves, the final chapter! ❤ Thank you so much for your wonderful support throughout the series, you made me so happy and I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did! ❤❤ I love you! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of sex and drinking.

Word Count: 4100

                                              3 Years Later

The deep comfort of sleep surrounding you as you snuggled deeper into the covers slowly disappeared as you felt yourself being pulled back, a smile curling your lips. You heaved a sigh as you felt soft kisses on your neck, making you giggle.

Both of you had gone to sleep quite late thanks to your…late night activities, and you were nowhere near ready to face the day, but this was a nice way to wake up.

“Hi,” you said without opening your eyes and felt his breathy laugh warming your neck.

“Hi.”

You whined into your pillow as his arms tightened around you and he buried his face to the crook of your neck while you ran your fingertips over his arm.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, professor.”

“Who says I can’t finish?” Spencer murmured into your skin and you opened your eyes to turn your head.

You were one hundred percent sure that you would never get tired of this view. Spencer’s hair was a mess, quite literally the meaning of bedhead while he watched you with a smile on his lips, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I can think of two people who might disagree with you,” you said and as if on cue, you heard the pitter-patter of little feet along with some gleeful squeals echoing through the hall. Spencer let out a chuckle, dropping his head to your shoulder and you grinned.

“In three, two…”

“Mowning!”

“Open? Open?” you heard the sweet babbling overlapping with each other and you grabbed your dressing gown off the floor, then put it on and went to open the door but as soon as you did, a little figure wheezed past you to climb to the bed while the other one clutched to your leg, looking up at you with bright, shining eyes.

“Hi Daisy!” you cooed and bent down to pick her up while she held her plushie tightly and you turned to see Spencer lifting Laura in the air, making her let out a screech which turned into a giggle.

“Whoa, did you get bigger in a night?!” Spencer asked Laura who nodded fervently, babbling something with only a couple of words clear. You approached the bed to drop Daisy on the soft fluffy covers, making her laugh happily before she scrambled to give Spencer a big kiss on his cheek.

“Where did my kiss go?” you wondered out loud and in a second, you were attacked by two overly enthusiastic toddlers. You burst into laughter and pressed a kiss on top of their heads, then stood up again.

“Okay, who wants to come downstairs with me?”

“Me!” Laura jumped in bed while Daisy bit on the ear of her plushie before she shifted closer to Spencer, obviously still sleepy.

“Daisy?”

She shook her head and rubbed at her eye with her small fist, and Spencer reached out to push back a curl falling over her eyes as she yawned.

Your mother had a point, even if they looked almost identical, their personalities were way too different. Daisy was quite possibly the calmest toddler you had ever seen, she barely cried when she was focused on something, and especially when you put one of her picture books in front of her for her to color them. Spencer had said she most probably took after him.

But Laura? Laura definitely took after you, and your mother and Mina swore by it.

She was a tiny hurricane, completely unstoppable once she had decided to cause chaos. She had even started walking two months before Daisy, and you could barely take her eyes off of her without her sneaking off to somewhere to hide and “scare” you.

But even if they couldn’t be more different, there was one thing for sure. You loved both of them so much that it surprised you how full your heart felt whenever you looked at them.

“Alright then,” you hoisted Laura up, “Let’s go, little monkey!”

“Go!” she repeated, her voice full of excitement and you made your way downstairs, walking past Spencer’s study, then your study before you reached the huge living room with the open kitchen. You put Laura down, then opened the fridge.

“Okay Lulu, which one do we want today, milk or juice?” you asked but met with silence. You frowned, then closed the fridge door to look around, but she was nowhere to be found.

“I looked away for one second,” you muttered to yourself, then peeked your head around the doorframe to see the flash of a familiar mop of curly hair disappear into your study in full speed.

“No no, that’s mommy’s work, that’s mommy’s work!” you rushed to the study and lifted her up before she could touch the board, standing on her tiptoes. She let out a whine, still trying to reach the board and you shook your head.

“Nope, we are not messing up this seating chart, it took me days to complete it,” you said and turned around with her in your arms, then pointed at the two pieces of sample napkins on your table, “Want to help me?”

Laura nodded fervently, “Yes!”

“Which one is pretty?”

Laura looked at you, then looked at the napkins before she pointed at the one on the right.

“This.”

“Oh the pink one?”

“Pink one.” she repeated and looked up at you, “Good job!”

You let out a laugh,

“Yes baby, good job!” you said and walked out of your study with her, closing the door behind you just in case, then entered the kitchen again to find Spencer putting Daisy in her seat. Daisy gave you a big smile, letting you see her baby teeth and you blew her a kiss, then sat Laura down next to her.

“Was she in your study?” Spencer asked as he pulled you closer and you nodded.

“I’m telling you, she can teleport.”

“I doubt that’s the case,” he laughed, handing you a cup of coffee before sipping his own and you inhaled the scent of the coffee as you checked your e-mails.

“Oh babe, dinner tonight at my mom’s place,” you looked up from your phone, “You didn’t forget, right?”

Spencer shook his head, nuzzling into your neck. “Nope. At 8.”

You giggled, running your fingers through his curls, “You’re going to be late for work, professor.”

He heaved a sigh and nodded before he pulled back almost hesitantly and pointed at the twins with his thumb, “Do you want me to drop them off?”

“I got it, no worries.” You stood on your tiptoes to peck him on the lips, “Go. Don’t be late tonight!”

“Cross my heart,” he smiled at you before he kissed both Daisy and Laura, “Hey, you two behave for mommy, deal?”

“Hm?” Laura asked, blinking up at him as she grabbed Daisy’s toy from her and he let out a laugh before he grabbed his satchel.

“See you later!”

“Bye time!” Daisy waved her hand and Laura’s head shot up,

“Bye bye!”

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together as Spencer closed the door behind him, “We will have breakfast, then we will go and see grandma, how does that sound?”

                                                  ***

The best part of having your own company was that you could pick and choose your own clients while letting the rest of the clients to the others. Especially after the twins, that had made things so much easier.

Your business was flourishing and you got to choose your working hours and the couples you wanted to work with.

“I know you guys said you wanted something small,” you said as you walked through the doors to the wedding venue, “But I wanted to make sure you know you have other options.”

There was no answer for a moment and you looked over your shoulder to look at the couple.

“Garcia?” you said and Luke let out a whistle.

“I mean it looks… it looks good.”

“It looks like something out of a fairytale.” Garcia whispered and turned to you, “But Y/N-“

“I know, you have a budget.” You snapped your fingers, “The thing is, the owner of the venue is a good friend of mine, so I’ll talk him into lowering the price a lot. Besides, he owes me one after I got him so many weddings.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Garcia stared at you, “We could have this venue?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have four other venues to show you, but if you want this one after seeing those, yes. Oh and, before I forget—“ you grabbed your phone and tossed it to Luke, “How would you feel about this car for the wedding?”

He looked at the screen and blinked a couple of times. “You’re joking.”

“Not really.”

“Let me see,” she said and took a look at the screen, then turned to you, “Whose car is this?”

You shifted your weight, “Uh- mine.”

“No it’s not, your car is outside. I know that because Luke stood there and watched it for a whole minute.”

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “Nolan bought twins ponies the other day and I guess while he was at it, he decided to throw in a car for me. But I’m not much of a bright red car person, I prefer mine in black. So?”

“Penny?” Luke turned to Garcia, “Please?”

She held up her hands, “I don’t care about the car, I care about the venue.”

“Yes!” Luke pumped a fist in the air and turned to you, “You sure about this?”

“It’s just there in the garage man, I’m more than happy to let you drive it whenever you want.”

Luke pulled you into a tight hug, making you let out a laugh and he pulled back when his phone started ringing.

“Sorry, it’s Emily.”

“Oh tell her I said hi!” Garcia said and he pecked her on the lips, then answered the phone and walked out of the hall.

“I’ll never get tired of being right,” you motioned at her, “Told you.”

“I know, I know…” she let out a squeal, “This is so pretty though, Y/N! I mean I knew you were good at your job, I just didn’t know you were this good.”

You fixed your hair in an exaggerated smug manner and winked at her.

“Seating chart is ready too,” you said, “Laura almost crashed it today, but…”

Her smile widened, “Aw, how are my Lulu and Daze?” she asked, “You should’ve brought them with you!”

“Trust me, we wouldn’t get anything done,” you said with a laugh, “I can’t really focus on anything else while they’re around. And you know how they get when they see you.”

She pressed a hand on her chest, “I swear, you and Reid made the cutest babies I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

You grinned at her as Luke walked into the hall again, flipping the phone in his hand.

“There’s a case,” he said almost apologetically and Garcia nodded.

“Go, I’ll handle this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” she said and kissed him, “I won’t decide on anything without you, I promise.”

“I fixed a pre cake tasting for you guys at this new pastry shop but she can try them first,” you told Luke and he let out a whine.

“You know, in times like these I get why Reid quit.”

“Right, because he quit over pastries,” you deadpanned and he heaved a sigh.

“I’ll see you two later.”

“Be careful!” Garcia called out and he nodded, then walked out of the hall. You threw an arm over Garcia’s shoulder, then turned to her,

“So, cake tasting?”

“God yes.”

                                                     ***

You unbuckled your seatbelt as Spencer pulled over in front of your mother’s house, then turned to you to peck you on the lips.

“See, told you we could make it.”

“We’re half an hour late,” you giggled as you ran your fingertips over his stubble and he tilted his head.

“That’s not completely my fault.”

“Oh it isn’t?”

“You were the one who joined me in the shower,” he reminded you, and you shrugged your shoulders, playing coy.

“Still doesn’t make it my fault,” you stated, “And if my mother asks, you were—“

“Grading papers,” he finished your sentence for you and stole a kiss from you again, “Got it.”

You opened the car door, then got out of the car and climbed up the marble stairs with him until you reached the front door. You rang the doorbell and soon enough the maid opened it, the cheerful laughter and squealing reaching you. You and Spencer stepped in, and Daisy and Laura rushed to you as Spencer crouched down to hug them both.

“Finally!” your mother walked into the hallway as you pressed a kiss on top of Daisy and Laura’s heads, then straightened up to hug her, “You’re late honey!”

“Spencer was gradi—” you were cut off as Daisy came to hug your leg again, tugging at your sleeve, “Daze, baby-“

“Lulu!” she corrected you, pointing at herself and you let out a laugh, then hoisted her up.

“Aw, I’m sorry!” you said as you set her on your hip, and made your way to the dining room.

“Spencer was grading papers,” you told your mother as you entered the room and put Laura down, then she and Daisy ran to Lily who was sitting in their playground but as soon as she saw you, a smile warmed her face.

“Hi!”

“Hi there bug!”

“I’m teaching them animals, see!” she said as Daisy and Laura sat down and she opened the big book, pointing at a page.

“What is this?”

“Coo!”

“Cow, yes! What does the cow say?”

“Moo!” Daisy said before Laura could, looking up at Lily and she nodded.

“Exactly!”

“Good job!” Laura said quickly and Daisy nodded, clapping her hands together as if clapping herself. You could swear your heart melted and you smiled softly, keeping your eyes on them.

Soon enough, the dinner was ready and the nanny took the twins and Lily to the play room because they had already eaten and insisted they wanted to play there. Your mother had renovated the house around the time they were born so now they had a huge room filled with toys and games which the twins loved.

“So is everyone okay for Venice?” your mother asked as you sipped your wine, “It will be beautiful, we already made the arrangements.”

“Next month works for me,” you held up a hand, “Spencer?”

“Sure thing, it works for me too.”

“Kenz?” you asked and she bit on her lip, stealing a look at Mina and you tilted your head.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m good with next month,” Kenzie said quickly, “But um…”

“I might not be.” Mina said and your mother groaned.

“Mina, come on. Even you need a vacation.”

“It might not be the best idea at this time,” Mina said and you turned to Kenzie,

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not saying anything, it’s her news.”

“Mina?” Nolan said, “Is everything okay at work? Do you want me to make a call?”

“No no,” Mina shook her head, “It’s good- great, actually. I just didn’t want to tell you guys on the phone the other day, I was waiting for this dinner.”

You raised your brows and she entwined her fingers with Kenzie, shooting her an excited look.

“Two days ago, I was called into a meeting,” she said, “With Bradley and Paul. They…. They want me to be a partner.”

“Oh my God!” you covered your mouth, then pushed your chair back to rush to hug her. She hugged you back tight, a giddy laugh escaping from her lips.

“Honey!” your mother said, joining you “Finally!”

“You deserve it, Mina.” Nolan said, “Ditch the wine glasses everyone, we’re opening the champagne!”

“Congratulations!”

“You traitor, why didn’t you tell me?” you pointed at Kenzie who held up her hands,

“She bribed me.”

“She’s your wife!”

“Exactly, she knows what to bribe me with!” Kenzie exclaimed and you went to sit beside Spencer, still smiling as your mother took her seat as well.

“Did you know?” you turned to Spencer and he shrugged, grinning.

“I knew they were hiding something.”

Kenzie gasped, “Spencer!”

“I’m sorry Kenz but you have a terrible poker face.”

“He does have a point, babe.” Mina said as Kenzie pouted.

“Whatever.”

“So,” Spencer cleared his throat and turned to your mother and Nolan, “Speaking of people with terrible poker faces and something to say…”

You sat up straighter, “Wait, what is happening?”

“What is he talking about?”

“Spencer?”

“I’m not saying anything,” Spencer said, a look of mischief crossing his face, “They might, though.”

Your mother tilted her head, “When did you notice?”

“When I walked in.”

“Told you,” Nolan said, and your mother smiled slightly, pointing at Spencer.

“You, young man, are dangerous around announcements.”

“What is it with everyone betraying me tonight?” you asked, looking between them, “What’s going on?”

“So, Mina isn’t the only one who didn’t want to give big news over the phone,” your mother said as Nolan held her hand and squeezed it, and it dawned on you.

“Wait a minute…”

Your mother let out a laugh and held up her hand so that you could see the huge diamond ring on her finger, “We’re getting married!”

Instantly, there was an uproar. Spencer cheered while Kenzie let out a small scream, Mina lunged out of her seat to rush to them and you gawked at them, your jaw hanging.

“Jesus Christ,” you said as you made your way to your mother while one of the maids brought the champagne and your mother squealed like an excited girl and pulled you into a hug, making you laugh.

“Congratulations, you crazy kids,” you said as you pulled back “You deserve to be happy. And you-“ you pointed at Nolan, then smiled and hugged him, “The original deal still stands.”

“Wouldn’t dream of anything different,” he pressed a kiss into your hair and grabbed the champagne before he opened it with a loud pop, making everyone cheer. He quickly filled your glasses and you made your way to Spencer who wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer.

“I wanted to ask sooner,” Nolan announced, “But you know, you two got married, and then the twins…”

“We figured we would need to find a time you weren’t as busy,” your mother pointed at you, “To plan the wedding and all.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh, “Well unfortunately, my client list is-“

“Not full!”

“Lies!” Kenzie and Spencer said at the same time and you let out a laugh, then raised your glass slightly.

“I was going to say available,” you winked at them, “I’ll send you the plans tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” your mother asked and you grinned.

“I’ve been planning your wedding for the last three years,” you said, making her gasp and Nolan laugh, “You guys seriously didn’t think I’d let someone else do it, did you?”

                                                     ***

By the time you got back home, the twins were way too sleepy. You and Spencer put them to bed as silently as possible, then you went to check the plans in your study while Spencer changed his clothes. You ran a hand through your hair and left your study to make your way to the living room before you put some music on and walked to the window to take a look outside.

The city was really beautiful at night.

“Thinking about the plans?” Spencer’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over your shoulder, then a smile warmed your face.

“Something like that,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, “You know it’s gonna be chaos, right? That wedding?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he said and caressed your hair, “You got this, though.”

“Do me a favor,” you said, “Remind me that a lot in the future, at least until we send them off to their honeymoon.”

He let out a small chuckle, but before he could say anything, you felt small footsteps coming closer and you looked around his arm to see Laura peeking around the doorframe with a look of excitement.

“We have a fugitive!” Spencer said, making her squeal and run back to the hallway.

“I’ll be right back,” Spencer pecked you on the lips, making you laugh and you watched him leave the living room, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw a mop of curly brown hair behind the couch, along with a giggle.

“Oh well, I’m sure Daisy is sleeping!” you said loudly, walking around the living room, “She wouldn’t be here, would she?”

The giggles got louder and you found yourself smiling,

“Or is she….here?” you checked behind the curtain, and put your hands on your hips, “Not behind the curtain. Hmm, I wonder where she is?”

“Hewe!” Daisy jumped from behind the kitchen, and let out a gleeful scream when you lifted her up.

“Here she is!” you said, “What are you doing up baby? It’s sleepy time.”

“Lulu hewe too!”

“And she’s going to sleep too,” you tickled her stomach to make her giggle.

“Mommy, love you!” she said and you could feel your heart skipping a beat before you smiled at her brightly.

“I love you too baby,” you kissed her cheek, “Now let’s go to bed, hm?”

“Mkay!” she said and rested her head on your shoulder as you made your way to their bedroom.

“Hey, I was wondering where she was,” Spencer whispered as you put Daisy to bed while Laura hugged her teddy bear tighter. You pressed a kiss on Daisy’s head, then went to Laura’s bed and kissed her head too.

“I love you,” you said, “Now sleepy time, okay?”

“Love you mommy!” they both said and Spencer turned their nightlights on before he switched the light off, and both of you left their room to go to the living room, where the music was still playing. Spencer went to kitchen to get two glasses of wine and you pulled the curtain a little to look outside.

“I swear they get more energetic every day.”

“It’s normal,” Spencer said, handing you your glass and you took a sip as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling to your neck. “You know your mom will make them flower girls, right?”

“You say that as if I don’t already have their dresses in mind.” You mused, making him chuckle.

“Of course you do.”

“I’m telling you, that trip to Venice will be a nice break from the future chaos,” you said, “That is if you are ready to listen to my ranting about the wedding venues on a holiday too. Are you sure you want to go there with me?”

A small smile pulled at his lips and after all this time, it still managed to make your stomach flip pleasantly,

“I’d go anywhere with you,” he said, “With or without you talking about what color the napkins will be.”

“I’m torn between ivory and pearl,” you told him “Knowing my mom, she will want to put seashell into those options and spend a month trying to decide.”

“Should be a fun month,” he said, “Do you want me to tell her the percentages of those shades used in weddings? It could help.”

You scoffed a laugh and turned around in his arms so that you could look up at him.

“What does it say about me if I said I find that incredibly romantic?”

He clicked his tongue, pretending to be deep in thought, “That you have a strange understanding of romance?”

“Maybe. But you still love me,” you tilted your head, “In fact, one could say…”

“That I have a lot of oxytocin for you,” he finished your sentence, making you giggle.

“Very romantic, professor,” you said, and heaved a sigh as his fingertips caressed over your neck.

“You know I’m so in love with you, right?” you asked him, making him smile and nod before you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck, the warmth spreading through you.

This, right here.

This was happiness.

                                         The End.

[weelittleweasley]

technicolor (f.w.)

prompt request by anon: it is said that when you meet your soulmate, you will know because the world that you knew in black and white would turn technicolor. during a harmless game of spin the bottle, you didn’t expect your soulmate to be revealed to you.

warnings: drinking, mentions of eating, mild language

pairing: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor reader

word count: 5.3k

The power of true love was life altering in your world. Literally. The world was painted in shades of blacks, whites, and grays. It always was for those who hadn’t met their true love, their soulmate, their one and only. It was said on the occasion that you had kissed your soulmate, the world before you would erupt into vibrant color. People spent their whole lives, searching for the person who brought color to them. 

Living in a dull, colorless world was mundane to say the least, but it was all you knew. The idea of living in a world of color was an exciting thought to say the least, but in a way it scared you. Suddenly the world as you knew it changing abruptly before your eyes because you had met someone that destiny created for you? It was a scary thought. But in your head, you had nothing to worry about. You didn’t plan on meeting your soulmate any time soon. 

Or so you thought.

Laying upside down on the common room couch, you flipped through the pages of a Quibbler, not really paying attention to the words on the page. You looked on either side of you, Katie painting her nails on your left and Alicia on the right making light chatter with Angelina. Needless to say, the four of you were bored out of your skull. It was a quiet Friday night, nothing happening in the common room. No parties, no quidditch match, no nothing. 

With a groan, you pull yourself up from your inverted position and speak, “So are we all just going to sit around here like a bunch of bums and wait for something exciting to happen?”

Katie sighs, “That’s even if something exciting happens.” She blows on her nails, shaking her hands back and forth to expedite the drying process. “Does anyone have any ideas?”

The two of you look to Alicia and Angelina who just shrug as you throw your head back in annoyance. “Well, someone think of something because I refuse to let a perfectly good Friday night go to waste,” you flop the Quibbler on the table in front of you and hold your arms across your chest. “What can we do to entertain ourselves?”

Alicia stands up and starts pacing, trying to think of something. “We could...sneak some food out from the kitchens? Convince a house elf to sneak us some sweets from dinner two nights ago. Those biscuits were so good,” she thinks out loud.

Katie groans, “The thought of food makes me sick. I ate so much at dinner tonight after Ron challenged me to see how many dinner rolls I could fit into my mouth.”

The thought of Katie with bread rolls in her mouth makes the group chuckle. “Okay, so food is out of the picture,” Alicia speaks with a soft smile. “What about a movie? I can see if Hermione would let me borrow her projector and we could watch one of those movies I have tucked away in my trunk,” she suggests, surveying the group’s reaction.

Angelina makes a sour face. “We had a movie marathon last week, I’d like to do something different,” she tells Alicia who rolls her eyes.

Alicia huffs, plopping herself back onto the couch. “Well, then I’m out of ideas, so you come up with something, Johnson.”

The group sits in a bored silence for a few moments before Angie breaks the silence. “Should I go bother Fred and George? Surely they’ll find something to do. They always make things interesting,” she speaks, raising her brows, gaging her audience’s reaction.

Katie rolls her eyes, “Merlin, Angie, if you want an excuse to see your darling Georgie, you can just say so.” You laugh at her comment and give Katie a teasing high five as Alicia giggles along. Angelina rolls her eyes and leans back on the couch. Angelina and George had been dating ever since sixth year when they kissed after their first date and they had seen the world in color, confirming their soulmate status. Katie mockingly starts teasing Angie now, “Meh, meh, I’m Angie, I love George, I see the world in color. Meh, meh, my sweater is green and not black like you guys see it, blah, blah,” making you cackle, throwing your head back in laughter, clutching your stomach.

You lean into Katie as you laugh, making her laugh harder as Angelina stands up, “Oh, piss off you two! I can’t help it that he’s my soulmate and I found him so early!”

“We’re just teasing you, Angie,” you wipe the tears of laughter from your eyes. “Go on, go fetch the twins. I’m sure they’ll think of something to do. Tell ‘em to bring Jordan with them if he’s around. Lee is always a good time.” Alicia nods in agreement.

With a small smile, Angelina darts off up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. Alicia shakes her head, “That girl is whipped for the Weasley. I can’t believe she found her soulmate already. We’re not even eighteen yet.”

It was true. It wasn’t unheard of people finding their soulmates at a young age, but it surely wasn’t common. Most people were friends or knew their soulmates for a while before they were aware that they were in fact soulmates. For example, your parents both went to Hogwarts and we friends for years. It wasn’t until after four years after graduation that they realized they were soulmates. You smiled to yourself at the thought of your parents. You wished that you could have a soulmate story like theirs.

Katie folds her arms across her chest, “Quite frankly I hope I don’t meet my soulmate anytime soon. I feel like after you meet your soulmate, you’re expected to drop everything and be with them. But you have your whole lives ahead of you to spend time with each other. I’d rather be single and have fun and live my life in black and white for a while before seeing color with a soulmate.”

In a way you did agree with Katie. Most people who met their soulmate at a young age tended to drop everything in order to be there for their soulmate. Coordinating their lives and schedules to their soulmates, moving cities for them, planning their days around the other. It just seemed so intense. You were seventeen, you couldn’t drop everything right now for another person. 

Moments later, Angelina happily came down the stairs with a large smile on her face as George, Fred, and Lee all trailed behind her. “The entertainment has arrived, ladies,” George speaks with a big beaming smile on his face as you teasingly rolled your eyes.

You sit up and speak, “What entertainment did you bring, Georgie?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended at your comment. “Are we not enough for you, (Y/N)? Is our presence not enough?” George mockingly stumbles back. “Freddie, I feel faint! Catch me!”

Dramatically, Fred scoops up his twin brother as George pretends to faint. “Merlin’s beard, (Y/N), look at what you’ve done!” he mockingly screeches as you roll your eyes and giggle. Katie huffs a here we go as she leans back into the couch. The twins always put on a show when they were around you guys. You never minded it; they were quite funny when they wanted to be. “Quick, Lee, we need to revive him!”

Lee, now in on the joke, runs over to the coffee table and clear it quickly. “Bring him here!” he exclaims as Fred lays a fake limp George on the table as you laugh and Alicia scoffs.

“Good Godric, you three are a bunch of idiots,” she huffs with a smile on her face. No matter how much she hated to admit it, this was much better than sitting around and doing nothing.

Fred speaks, “Alright, Lee, give me the reviving potion,” sticking out his hand.

Even more dramatic than before, Lee pulls out a large bottle of fire whiskey from his satchel as he improvises an operatic song as he places it in Fred’s hands. Lee opens George mouth as Fred uncorks the bottle and pours a glug into George’s mouth. George swallows it and dramatically inhales. “I’ve been revived!” he exclaims as the boys cheer.

Katie perks up at the sight of fire whiskey. “Where in the hell did you get a bottle of that?” she sits up and grabs the bottle from Fred’s hands. Lee pulls out a few cups from his satchel and places them on the table, Katie immediately pouring everyone a glass of fire whiskey. 

Fred smiles, “It’s our emergency bottle. In case situations like this happen.”

Folding her arms across her chest, Alicia speaks up, “And exactly how many emergency bottles do you boys have?”

The trio looks at each other before sighing and speaking as a chorus, “Four.”

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought,” she laughs before taking a cup of fire whiskey from Katie, Katie then handing you one. “Well, it’s better than nothing I guess.”

You look at the whiskey in your cup before sighing and taking a sip, the liquid burning your throat, but warming your chest up in all the right ways. A familiar sensation. You hum in contentment. “Better than nothing is damn right,” you smile as the twins chuckle. “What were you lot doing upstairs?”

Lee takes a seat in the chair across from the couch, “Same thing as you gals. Bored out of our skulls. However, these two numbskulls were trying to conjure up a plan to go pull a prank on Filch.” George snickers as Lee flicks the back of his head, earning a small ow. “Good thing you all were bored too otherwise I would have been dragged into that mess.”

Fred scoffs, “Oh please, you wish you could pull off a prank at the caliber that Georgie and I do. Isn’t that right, brother?” He turns to George who is already cuddled up next to Angelina on the love seat, arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close next to him. Fred rolls his eyes and makes a gagging sound. “You two make me sick.”

George just pulls Angie closer to his side as Angie blushes a deep crimson. “You’re just jealous, Freddie. I’ve got a hot girlfriend and I can see the world in color, making it quite obvious that you, dear brother, are green with envy.” Angie rolls her eyes, but still places a soft kiss to George’s cheek.

Fred shakes his head, “He’s gone soft, Lee. We’ve lost one of our bravest soldiers.” 

“Piss off,” Angie speaks up, defending her boyfriend as Freddie chuckles, lips turning into a gorgeous smile. “Now that we’ve all got our drinks, let’s really get the party started...” she wiggles her eyebrows. “Katie Bell, truth or dare.”

Katie groans and sips her fire whiskey before deciding what she wants to do. As she ponders, you see Fred scoot over to you as you giggle, him dragging his bum on the floor, making his way to you. Fred smiles up at you, “This seat taken?” he refers to the spot on the floor right in front of your legs.

You shake your head with a smile, “It’s got your name written all over it, Weasley.”

Fred gives you a cheeky grin, “Brilliant.”

He turns around and leans his back up against your legs and rests one of his arms on your knees. You and Fred were close friends. In fifth year when Angelina confessed to you that she had a crush on George, you started spending more time with the twins and developed a close relationship with them and Lee. You, in particular, got along with Fred like a house on fire. The two of you loved to crack jokes on the sidelines, teasing George and Angie, giggling and stealing little glances here and there.

Angelina always told you that you and Fred would make a cute couple. She insisted she saw the way that Fred looked at you, but you always brushed it off as if it were nothing. You and Fred were friends, nothing more, nothing less. A partnership would just totally ruin the vibe between the two of you. There was no point to it. Even though you may have always admired Fred’s looks from a far and his charming personality, you had finally convinced yourself that you and Fred Weasley were platonic.

As Fred leaned up against your legs, sipping on his whiskey, your eyes found Angie’s as she lifted her brows, looking at you knowingly, sending you a look that said Oh? You rolled your eyes and shook your head, responding with your eyes, No way. She just shrugged and sipped her fire whiskey nonchalantly as if to say Whatever you say...You just brushed it off and leaned back as Katie challenged Lee to a dare.

----------

The night progressed and the drinking continued and the bottle got less and less full. Soon enough, the common room was full of your tipsy giggles as the lot of you cracked jokes with each other. You hugged your sides as you cackled as Fred did a spot on impression of Draco Malfoy as he mimicked him walking through the halls, yelling “Potter!” every now and then. Of course, the humor was amplified by the liquor in your hands, but it still was hilarious. The whole group was in a fit of giggles as Lee quite literally fell to the floor from laughter too hard.

Alicia laid her head in your lap as she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes as you all recovered from laughter. “Fred, that was brilliant. You’ll have to show Harry tomorrow morning,” she tells him as Fred plops down next to you on the couch, stealing Katie’s spot as she was now sat on the floor next to Lee. 

Fred chuckles and rests his arm around the back of the couch, gently hovering behind you as you suddenly become very aware of his presence. You spot Angelina out of your periphery vision as she smirks to herself before leaning over and whispering something in George’s ear, making George look at you with a devilish smirk on his lips. Your gaze towards them hardens as you mouth, Knock it off. George just smiles and sips his drink quietly, pretending to mind his own business. 

You turn to Fred and give him a soft smile as he drops his left eye in a wink, making your heart skip a beat. “Easy, Weasley,” you say in a cautious tone as he lifts his arms in defense. You shake your head and lean back into the couch, bumping into his arm that is draped across the back of the couch. Neither of you bother moving. 

Alicia rises from your lap and reaches for the fire whiskey bottle, but groans in defeat when she realizes it’s empty. “Bloody hell,” she groans. She looks to Lee and begs, “Is it appropriate to call this an emergency and you can grab another one of your emergency fire whiskeys?”

Lee laughs, “I regret to inform you we have a one emergency bottle a night policy.” Alicia groans and flops back onto the couch. Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in Lee’s mind, making his eyes grow wide and a little smile dance on his lips. “However,” he wiggles his brows and surveys the group. “Now that we’ve got an empty bottle, I think we all know where we can take this party...”

Looking up from her cup, Katie says, “Where are we taking the party? Are we going to bed?” she asks with sadness in her voice. “But the night is so young!”

Shaking his head, Lee looks at Katie. “Are you daft, Bell?” he asks as she rolls her eyes, sipping her whiskey. “I meant we could play a cheeky game of spin the bottle,” Lee suggests.

Alicia huffs, “Really, Jordan? What are we? Fourth years?”

“Oh, come on, Spinnet, it’s just to add a little spice to the mix,” Lee shimmies his shoulders making you laugh. “Besides, it gives you an excuse to have the privilege of planting a sloppy one on me.”

Alicia fake gags. “I’d rather spend a whole day with Professor Snape,” she spits as Lee laughs.

George speaks up now, “Angie and I will sit this one out, but we will watch the show.” He pulls Angie impossibly closer to him as she cuddles into his chest. “For obvious reasons,” he smirks. Fred boos his brother and throws his now empty cup of fire whiskey at him. “What? I am not kissing someone other than my literal soulmate,” he rationalizes. “Besides, you’ve got five players. That’s enough. That is, if everyone is comfortable playing.”

The group all looks at each other, gaging everyone’s feelings of playing a cheeky game. You had to admit you’d rather not play a game as childish as spin the bottle, but for a weird reason, you were keen on playing at least one round. As you looked around, it seemed like everyone was on board to play. 

Your eyes meet Fred’s for a moment as he looks at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips for a split second, hoping you wouldn’t catch him. You quickly turn away, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks. “I don’t see the harm in one game,” you shrug as you see Fred smile from the corner of your eye. Lee claps his hands cheering as Alicia and Katie agree.

Fred speaks up, “Well, I can’t let Lee be the only bloke having all the fun, now can I?” 

Everyone is on board with the game as Lee cheers, “Alright! Five for five!” He places the empty bottle of fire whiskey on its side in order to spin it. “Everyone knows the rules. You spin and kiss whomever it lands on, no matter who it is. I’m looking at you, Weasley. If you land on me, I expect the best snog of my life,” he teases as you all laugh wildly. “Whomever the bottle lands on gets the next spin. All good?” Everyone nods. Lee smiles, “Groovy. Welp, youngest goes first. Bell, you’re up.”

Katie giggles, “Put on your chapstick, you lucky sons of bitches.” Alicia laughs as Katie reaches and spins the bottle. The bottle does a series of spins, turning clockwise as she anticipates who she’ll be planting a kiss on. She nervously dances back and forth as you watch her with a small smile on your face.

Slowly the bottle stops spinning to land gently on Fred. Your heart stops for a second and your mouth runs dry. You blink a few times and swallow hard. The group all claps their hands and laughs as Katie rolls her eyes. You on the other couldn’t help but have a tight feeling in your chest. You force a smile on your face before you look at Angelina quickly. She raises her brows, monitoring your reaction as you just shake your head, letting her know you were fine.

Katie scoots over to Fred as Fred leans down. “Get ready for your mind to be blown,” Fred jokes as Katie slaps his arm.

You watch very intently as Fred ducks his head down to connect his lips with Katie. You stop breathing for a moment as you watch Fred kiss one of your closest friends. Your palms start sweating and you pull yourself away from looking at them kiss. Lee and Alicia oooh and giggle as you look at Angie, eyes screaming at her, Okay maybe I’m not fine. 

She gives you a nervous smile and mouths, “It’s just a silly game.”

You nod your head and shake it off. It was a silly game. That’s all. A stupid, silly, childish game. It meant nothing. You knew Katie didn’t like Fred like that. She had fancied Adrian Pucey for a few months now. This kiss meant literally nothing.

It felt like the kiss had lasted for hours when it was a brief five seconds. Katie pulls away from the kiss and returns to her position on the floor. Fred just smirks and leans back in his seat, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. You watch as he does so, the small gesture being surprisingly attractive to you as you gulp. But you quickly turn around so Fred doesn’t catch you watching.

Katie laughs, “Eh, you’re nothing to ride home about, Freddie. Hate to break it to you.”

Fred shrugs, “It’s alright, Bell. The first stage of grieving is denial. You’ll eventually accept that that kiss was the best one of your life.”

Lee cackles as Fred joins him in his laugher before leaning over and spinning the bottle for himself. The bottle spins round and round and round as you watch it, the bottle hypnotizing you. You secretly wished that the bottle would land on you, wanting to be able to kiss Fred Weasley and getting the confirmation that you didn’t like Fred in that way. But honestly, you just hoped it was anyone but Katie or Alicia. 

The bottle slowly stopped spinning as it gently landed on Lee, making the group erupt in laughter. Lee’s lips drew up in a devilish smile as he rubbed his hands together, “Here I come, big boy!” he exclaims, making you laugh even harder.

Fred laughs and sits up in his seat. “Give it to me, Jordan,” he challenges.

Lee springs to his feet and grabs Fred’s face with both hands, squeezing his cheeks together before smashing his lips on Fred’s. Fred is laughing as Lee kisses him roughly, rocking him back and forth. George is absolutely dying of laughter, falling into his chair as the rest of the group squeals. 

Alicia grabs onto your arms, squeezing you as she laughs, you doing the same. The kiss happens for a while as you cackle, “Good Godric, come up for some air why don’t you?”

With a smack, Lee pulls off of Fred as Fred falls back in his seat. Fred’s eyes are wide as Lee wipes his lips. “And that,” Lee points to Fred, “is how you kiss someone. Not that pathetic thing you gave Katie.”

The group comes down from laughing at Lee spins the bottle for himself. The cycle repeats for a while. Lee kisses Alicia, Alicia kisses you, you kiss Katie, Katie kisses Lee, and then the bottle spins again. Lee spins and the bottle gently lands on you as you giggle. “I’m expecting excellence, Lee Jordan,” you eye him as he laughs. “Not going to lie, Alicia might give you a run for your money.”

Lee rolls his eyes, “In her dreams.”

You giggle before the two of you close the gap between you two, kissing each other. The kiss is honestly not bad. Lee’s lips tasted of the fire whiskey along with vanilla and sugar. The kiss was gentle, but not bad at all. Your friends around you all cheer and oooh at you two in typical fashion as you both smile into the kiss. You pull away and Lee sends you a wink. “The reviews are in,” you speak. “Not bad, Jordan. Not bad at all. Actually, pretty damned good!”

Lee pumps his arm. “Hah! Take that, Spinnet!”

“Alright, my turn to spin,” you giggle and excitedly spin the bottle.

The bottle spins and spins and spins as everyone waits in anxious anticipation. Who could it be? Slowly, the bottle stops spinning and lands on the person right next to you, Mr. Fred Weasley.

Your heart stops as your mouth goes dry. Everyone immediately erupts into cheers, specifically George who springs onto his feet. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this one!” he cheers as you gulp.

Kissing Fred Weasley? Maybe this game was a mistake. 

You stare at the bottle, and then to Angie who wears the biggest grin on her face, and then back at the bottle and finally to Fred. His eyes stare back at you as you gulp. A smirk dances on Fred’s lips as you suck in a breath. The whole group stares at the pair of you, silent, waiting for something to happen. 

The tension between you and Fred was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Cat got your tongue, (Y/L/N)?” Fred teases you as he scoots a little closer to you. You suck in a shaky breath as he chuckles lowly.

You snap yourself out of this anxious gaze and speak, confidence now coursing through your veins. You were going to kiss your best friend and it was happening now. “Make your move, Weasley,” you challenge with flirtation laced in your voice.

Fred smiles, “No need to tell me twice,” he lowly whispers.

Immediately, Fred cups your cheek and brings your lips to his. Your lips connect and the whole group loudly cheers and screams. You hear Lee scream, “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” 

But you couldn’t care what was happening. You were kissing Fred. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Fred’s lips were soft, but demanding as they pressed firmly onto yours. His lips tasted of sweet cinnamon and spice; his lips were like a personal drug that you couldn’t get enough of. You pressed your lips harder against his as you both sucked in a breath, your hand resting on his forearm. His lips moved gently against yours as you both enjoyed this kiss too much for a friendly game of spin the bottle. 

You opened up your mouth enough for Fred to slide his tongue in, massaging his with yours as you moan just loudly enough for Fred to hear, making him smile into your kiss. As the group watched you two softly snog, they only cheer louder. You were too involved in relishing in the way Fred’s lips felt pressed against yours to care about how your friends were reacting.

The kiss was everything you wanted a first kiss with someone to be. It was gentle, but didn’t lack in passionate or desire. His lips moved in sync with yours as you followed his lead, his tongue dancing with yours. It was exactly how you imagined kissing Fred Weasley.

You are pulled from your thoughts when George cries out, “For Merlin’s sake Freddie, don’t eat the poor girl!”

Gently, you break the kiss as Fred’s lips follow yours for a moment, not wanting the kiss to end just yet. The two of you keep your eyes closed, relishing in the moment that you two shared.

Lee laughs, “Is it just me or is it hot in here?”

You giggle and gently pry your eyes open. But that’s when you gasp.

You look at Fred who sits in front of you in full color. His bright red hair contrasting against the light blue thermal shirt he wears. His brown eyes stare at you just as much in shock. 

It happened.

“Merlin’s beard...” you whisper.

The room fall silent as your friends stare at the two of you in confusion, wondering what could have possibly happened that made the two of you stare at each other in shock.

“Is it...” you start.

“Yeah,” Fred answers. He lets out a light laugh. “Yeah, it is.”

You let out a light laugh with him and slowly, look around the room taking in your surroundings, the whole common room in beautiful colors of maroon and gold. Color dances everywhere as you let out an amazed chuckle. 

Looking at Angie with amazement, she suddenly realizes exactly what’s going on. A smile erupts on her face as she lets out a sigh. “Good Godric,” she breathes. She looks at George. “It happened.”

The entire group registers what is happening as they stare at the two of you in awe as you two take in your surroundings gentle. “Oh shit,” Lee breathes out with a smile. “That’s bloody brilliant...”

You look back at Fred who just wears a gentle smile on his face as you look deeply into his chocolate brown eyes that swim with amazement and adoration. You could look into those eyes forever. And lucky for you, that’s what you were going to do. 

Breaking the silence, Angelina says, “We’ll leave you two to it then. Guys...”

Your friends all start to leave the common room, running up the stairs to the dormitories, definitely to chat about what just happened.

You are now left with Fred in the common room, sitting on the couch together, staring at each other in technicolor. “Hi, Freddie,” you breathe out with a smile.

Fred smiles, “Hi, (Y/N),” he reciprocates. The two of you just take the other one in for a few moments as you gulp. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do? Merlin’s sake, this was supposed to be a cheeky game of spin the bottle and all of a sudden. “We’re soulmates,” Fred speaks plainly.

“I guess so,” you laugh. You gently bite your lip. “I never thought it would be you, Fred.”

He inhales a long breath. “I had a feeling,” Fred admits as you teasingly smack his arm. “I’m glad I was right,” he confesses as you blush. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. With and without color,” he tells you. “I didn’t think that you could get more gorgeous, but color has proved me wrong.”

You shake your head, “Freddie...” you trail off, blushing wildly, crimson appearing on your cheeks for the first time. Fred takes your hand in his and gently rubs his thumb over your knuckles. You give into his touch, nothing feeling more right. “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Fred lifts your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “We’re soulmates,” he repeats himself as you nod. “Wow...so, we get to spend forever with each other, huh? You’re going to get really tired of me, aren’t you?” he jokes as you laugh.

“I could never grow tired of you,” you confess, squeezing his hand. You run your hand through his red hair. The signature of the Weasleys that you could finally see now. “I do have to say though,” you start. “I was not expecting your hair to be this red.”

Fred laughs, “Get used to it, darling. You’ll be staring at it for the rest of your life. Not to mention, the Weasley genetics are strong. Sorry to say that if we decide to have kids, they’ll end up like this.”

You roll your eyes, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Freddie.” He smiles and sends you a wink. “So,” you breathe out. “What do we do now?”

He inhales deeply and sighs. “Well,” he starts. “I think we ought to tell people, specifically our parents,” he says as you nod. “But other than that, we do what we want.” You gaze into Fred’s eyes and smile. “(Y/N), we have the rest of our lives together. There’s no rush. We can go at our own pace. We don’t have to pay attention to what people say we should be doing. I’m just happy that we’ve found each other that way we can start forever now.”

Your heart fills with joy and adoration at his words. You had always worried that you wouldn’t love soulmate, nevertheless like them, but loving Fred Weasley was going to be the easiest task of your life. Living your forever in color together.

“Sounds good to me, Weasley,” you smile.

Fred leans in and closes the gap between you two, kissing you again sweetly like he had done minutes ago for the first time. His lips are even gentler than before on yours as you smile into the kiss. Fred pull away and smiles, “Reckon we go upstairs and get the teasing out of the way from the lot?”

You take a moment. “Let’s wait a little while. We have forever for them to tease us. We’ll only have this moment for a short time.”

He shakes his head. “Merlin, you’re perfect.”

And there the two of you laid in each other’s arms, taking in the new colorful world before you, souls now connected forever. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist

Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series

Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him. 

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.

It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.

After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.

Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.

You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.

You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.

Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.

“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.

Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.

“Well, you never asked.”

George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.

“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.

Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”

Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.

You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”

And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.

During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.

Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.

“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”

“Lose a leg.”

“Or an arm.”

“Pack it in altogether.”

“Never!”

Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.

You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?

Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.

Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.

The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.

“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”

Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”

“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.

“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.

The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”

Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.

“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”

The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.

This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.

“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”

Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.

The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.

“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.

“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”

“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”

“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”

You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”

Fred laughed.

“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”

You ignored her and played along anyway.

“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”

George hesitated for a moment “Truth”

“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”

After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

I swear if you ask me anything stupid -

“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.

George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”

Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!

“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.

More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.

Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.

“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”

but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.

“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.

His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”

“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”

“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”

“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.

“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”

“But you always do, Freddie!”

He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.

“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”

Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.

Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”

The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.

Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.

Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.

This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.

But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.

Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.

Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.

Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.

Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.

You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.

“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”

Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?

The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.

“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”

Baby.

“Y/N!”

Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.

Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

[altsvu]

a little jealous, i suppose?

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!female!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: after being called in for a case in the middle of a romantic date, you and hotch have to talk to the lieutenant on the case, but they end up flirting with you at the same time. hotch gets a little jealous and proves it when you and him get back to the hotel room.

tw: sex talk, A SHIT TON OF SMUT, some fluff, swearing.

a/n: this is a long one lovelies! i had so much fun writing this! jealous hotch can be a bit naughty... but this is my first (completed) smut fic with hotch and i hope it doesn’t sound super weird or whatever bc i lowkey suck at smut

criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist! ✯ text messages!

✯✯✯✯

You and Hotch had been dating for almost a year and a half now. Upon dating, the two of you had decided that it was best to not say anything to the rest of the team. Although you wanted everything to be kept under wraps, everyone wanted the two of you to be together though, and they picked up on the many interactions that you exchanged with each other. It had been easy to keep the relationship a secret, or at least the idea of either you or Hotch being in a romantic relationship, until now when you came into the BAU floor wearing a revealing dress and a full face of makeup.

“Well, well, well,” Morgan whistled. “Looks like someone’s going on a date.”

“Shut up Morgan, you’re just jealous it’s not with you.” you laughed. “I am not jealous at all. You do look really good though.” he responded, in which you blew him a kiss.

“You look so beautiful! Your date is definitely gonna fall head over heels for you.” JJ squealed, coming up to give you a hug. You knew exactly who she was talking about. Hotch. She was the only person you were able to confide in about your relationship with him even though you had practically become best friends with everyone on the team. “Thank you JJ.” you smiled.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Reid asked.

“Or girl?” Penelope said.

You looked for some of your items from your desk, trying to avoid the team’s burning questions. “All I can say is that he’s... definitely older.”

“Well, you know what they say, the older the wiser.” Emily suggested.

“Yes, this man is very wise.” you replied, putting your badge and gun in your purse. Little did everyone know that they were talking highly of Hotch.

Rossi came out of his office. “Well, you’re not going on a date with me.”

“Unfortunately-“ you frowned, then paused mid sentence when your phone rang. You pulled it out and broke away from the group to make sure they couldn’t see the name.

“Sweetheart, you know I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look.” Hotch mused. You could tell he had a smile on his face. “Well babe, lucky for you, I’m about to leave. See you in 5 okay?” You replied.

“Of course.”

You hung up and dropped your phone in your bag, grabbing your coat. “Alright everyone, I’m off. Don’t miss me too much, I’m a big girl, I’ll be okay.”

“Walk you to the elevator?” JJ asked. You nodded sincerely. You then said your goodbyes to everyone and walked out with JJ.

“He’s lucky to be with a woman like you.”

“Yeah, I like to think that. I’m just glad he doesn’t treat me like a child, ya know. I may be the youngest here, but when we’re alone, everything’s just different.”

JJ lifted an eyebrow. “Ohhhh, I see.”

You playfully smacked her on the shoulder as the elevator door opened. “Girl stop. It’s more than that.” You walked into the elevator, blowing a kiss at JJ.

“Have fun!”

✯✯✯✯

“You look absolutely amazing, did I tell you that already?” Hotch complimented as you got out of the car.

“Yes you have, about 5 times already, but I appreciate the compliments. You look quite handsome yourself, Aaron.”

“Thank you, my love.” he said, kissing you on the lips.

The two of you went inside the restaurant and followed the waiter to the reserved table, which had seating next to each other instead of across and the environment was pretty chill since there weren’t a lot of people inside, so it felt even more romantic. It gave you more freedom to perform many forms of PDA, which was something that Hotch wanted to experiment more with.

“So... everyone on the BAU floor is questioning who I’m dating,” you started. Hotch looked up at you mid bite. “Really? What’d you say?”

“I’m dating an older man who’s very wise.”

Hotch sneaked an arm around your waist. “I’m glad that you think I’m wise.”

“I can think of a lot more.” you whispered. You then crept your hand up to the nape of Hotch’s neck and pulled him closer to you, planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

“Mmm, I know what I’m gonna do to you when we get home.” Hotch murmured into your ear after kissing you back. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re gonna be shaking when you walk into the BAU tomorrow.” His fingers tickled your bare skin, and you hoped you weren’t getting an orgasm from his touch.

“Oh what a naughty, wise man you are.” you mused, taking the opportunity to kiss and nibble on the soft skin that was Hotch’s neck. You sucked on it hard, leaving a dark red mark.

You went back to enjoying your meal and chatting when you were interrupted by a phone call.

“It’s Garcia.” Hotch whispered. He then proceeded to answer the phone. When he got off the phone with her, he looked disappointed. “What is it?” you asked.

“We’re being called in.”

“Fuck.” you muttered under your breath, hearing your phone ring too.

Hotch took your face in his hands. “It’s okay. We can finish date night another night.”

✯✯✯✯

You had texted JJ that you would be meeting them on the plane to avoid suspicions from the rest of the team and you would be briefed when you arrived. JJ had grabbed your go bag for you as well.

“Y/N, how was your date?” Emily asked.

It was tempting to smile and look at Hotch but you were able not to. “Despite it being cut short, it was amazing. We had... plans after dinner.”

“Oooo, risqué.” Morgan cocked his head to the side. You pinched his cheek and collapsed in one of the chairs, wanting to sleep. In a way, you were a bit upset that you and Hotch had to be called away from your date, you seriously wanted him to be all over you, kissing you, sucking on your skin, massaging your forbidden spots.

“Very. Where are we headed?”

The rest of the team then briefed you on the case and when you landed, you’d have to go with Hotch to talk with the lieutenant that was the lead on the case and set up at the field office.

While you were looking through your copy of the case file, you got a text from Hotch.

SSA Hotchner BAU ❤️: That hickey on my neck won’t be going away for a while, Rossi’s already asking about it

SSA Hotchner BAU ❤️: he thinks i had “a little rendezvous” before being called in.

You stifled a laugh.

You: well... you did. With me of course

You: Keep him wondering, I’ll give you more in our hotel room 😘 and i’m also holding you to that promise

SSA Hotchner BAU ❤️: the things i want to do to you... i wouldn’t even be able to count

You bit your finger and looked out the window, wanting the day to go by fast. Hotch was sitting across from you, so he looked up at you for a slight second with a grin on his face, which caught your attention quickly. He gave you a wink and looked back down. Moments later, the jet was arriving at the team’s destination and you were eager to just change out of your date night clothes.

“Do we have time for me to stop by the hotel we’re staying in?” you whispered to JJ while getting off the plane.

“My beloved friend, we’re on a time crunch.” JJ started. “But, I’ll let you come with me to get the keys for our rooms.”

You sighed in relief and smiled a thank you.

✯✯✯✯

“I kinda wished you didn’t have to change out of that dress.” Hotch admitted. You side eyed him, knowing that he was joking. That was until you turned to look at him and he was staring at you, examining you almost. “Me too,” you smiled, turning to look at him. “But obviously that would be super inappropriate.”

“Well of course it would be.” Hotch growled, pulling you closer to him.

“There’s cameras,” you hissed.

“Good.” One of his hands grabbed your ass and you let out a gasp. Clearly Hotch did not care whatsoever about the cameras, all he cared about was you, and how amazing you looked in front of him. That, and closing this current case as soon as possible. He took your face in his hands and kissed your lips ever so passionately, stopping just in time for the elevator door to open. As you were approaching the lieutenant, you straightened your shirt in hopes that he wouldn’t think that anything suspicious was going on.

“Lieutenant Baker, I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner and this is SSA Y/N .” Hotch said, shaking hands with Baker. When he got to you, a smile creeped up on his face and he lingered a bit after shaking your hand. A bit odd, you thought. “Thank you for coming,” he finally replied. “These suspicious murders have been going on for too long and I’d like to put an end to them as much as you do.”

“And that’s why we’re here.” Hotch agreed. “Is there a place for us to settle?” He led you and Hotch to a conference room with an evidence board, and as you were walking, you felt a familiar hand on your back, creeping to your waist. Goddammit Hotch. You glared at him to stop before he got caught and he only looked back at you with a smile on his face.

The rest of the time in the field office wasn’t bad, but you had a very huge feeling that the lieutenant was trying to make some moves on you.

It’s not like you weren’t used to this, men just found you super attractive. But you only found one man that was attractive.

Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey.” you turned around to find the lieutenant standing next to you. “Is there anything that I can help you with?”

“Nah, just putting these pictures and visuals up. Hotch and I are gonna review the case files until the family comes in to talk to us.”

“Ok, that sounds good.”

You noticed that Baker was still standing in your vicinity. “Is there something that you need from me, Lieutenant?”

“No, not at all. Let me know if you need anything from me, I’ll be trying to round up some potential witnesses.” Baker said, squeezing and rubbing your forearm for a moment and walking away to his office. He had a side grin on his face.

You, on the other hand, stood in your spot truly dumbfounded. Your mouth slightly gaped, you turned and watched Baker walk away. Suddenly your eyes made their way to Hotch, who was looking at you across the room, a grin also on his face.

“What was that about? He ask you if you were dating anyone?”

You rolled your eyes and finished putting up the map for Reid to use later. “Please, no.” Hotch was then standing by your side, leaning against the wall beside the evidence board.

“That wasn’t just any touch there.”

“Yeah well, it didn’t mean anything to me. Did you forget that I love you or something?”

Hotch pulled you into a kiss. “Of course not.”

“Good,” you whispered. “Then what’s the issue? A little jealous, I suppose?” You put emphasis on jealous.

“Agents? The victim’s mother is here.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Hotch replied. He turned back to you. “We’ll talk later.”

✯✯✯✯

It was nearing the end of the day, and everyone was tired. It was only the team’s first day in a small Nevada town, but a lot was accomplished.

Riding in the car with Derek, Emily, and JJ back to the hotel room, you let the breeze flow through your body. Nervousness washed over you as you thought about the morning upon arriving at the field office.

Hotch always had underlying meanings to even the simplest things he would say, which is why you couldn’t stop wondering if he was the slightest bit upset at the lieutenant for advancing on you, the person he loved with all his heart.

“Hey.” JJ poked at your arm. “What’s going on? Trouble in paradise?”

You smiled a bit. “No, uh, I guess there was a bit of tension since the lieutenant was flirting with me.”

“He was actually good looking, I think he’d be a great match for you.” Emily suggested, turning around.

“Y/N does attract almost every male species.” Derek commented.

“Guys, stop, I’m just... not interested in him.” You said simply, turning back to the window. The only thing running to your head was what Hotch had planned for tonight.

When you got to the hotel room, you found things the way they were, only Hotch’s go bag next to yours. You pulled out your robe and shower essentials from your go bag - you hated using hotel soap - and started to strip. When Hotch came out of the bathroom, you were only in your underwear, slipping on your robe, and he was only in a towel.

“You didn’t say when you came in.” Hotch whispered, planting a small kiss on your head.

“I know, I didn’t wanna bother you. I’m gonna shower quickly okay?” He nodded and you then went in the bathroom. When you were done, Hotch was in bed wearing a white shirt and grey boxer shorts. God, he looked so hot.

“What conversation did you want to have earlier?” You asked, wrapping your robe around a bit tighter.

Hotch gestured to you to lay next to him. “You know how I get when it comes to people flirting with you.”

“Yeah, you go feral. Internally, of course.” You paused. “Wait. Is Aaron Hotchner... mad?”

His hand snuck inside your robe, trailing up to your chest, cupping your right breast, sending chilling shockwaves to the rest of your body.

“Let’s just say I wanna show you that you belong to me.”

Oh, Hotch was jealous alright.

You turned to face him and that’s when he worked his magic. One side of your robe slipped off, and next thing you knew, he was teasing your clit, making you wet. Your shallow breaths and whimpers filled the emptiness of the room. He continued teasing you for a bit, then you watched as he pulled out his cock, stroking it a bit while staring at you dead in your eyes. You knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to make sure you knew he was the one in control, and that he would do anything to get off on your pleasure.

He made extra sure of it when he started cockwarming you.

Oh fuck you Aaron, you said in your head as small whimpers escaped your mouth.

“Yeah, you like when I do that to you?” Hotch- well Aaron, asked roughly. “You like feeling my cock inside you, don’t you?”

He was enjoying the sight of you, close to him, almost orgasming on the spot. But he wasn’t gonna let you get off that easily.

“What’s wrong, my sweet girl? Hmm?”

“I- I need you, Aaron,” was all you could croak out.

Aaron shifted on top of you and you curled your legs around him.

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to speak up for me to give you what you want.” Aaron teased, taking of his shirt.

“I need you Aaron,” you repeated a bit louder.

Aaron smiled and thrusted hard and fast into you, in which he took no time. “Good girl.” He let out a fierce groan when he did so.

“Who makes you feel good?”

“You do,” you moaned. “You make me feel good Aaron.”

He kissed you fiercely in response with one of his hands gripping your neck and the other holding on to your leg. “God, you look so sexy under me, my sweet, sweet girl. You take me so well.”

He knew you wanted to come, your flushed face gave it away. But when you asked, ever so politely, he responded with a firm no.

“You don’t get to come until I do.”

“But Aaron, plea-“

“No.”

As he was going faster, you felt yourself nearing an orgasm, and all you wanted to do was melt under him.

He pulled out just after he reached his high and smashed his lips against your clit, stimulating you even more. When he finally let you come, it came on strong and heavy, and a loud, broken “Aaron” escaped your lips. You did not care whatsoever if two of the other team members in the next room heard you. Aaron on the other hand was enjoying every moment of it. “Oh, my sweet girl, you taste amazing.” he mused.

When he was done he collapsed next to you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just... that was super hot.” you breathed, moving closer to him.

“It was. I think now you know who you belong to.” Aaron whispered, caressing your cheek.

“Much more than I did before.”

Aaron offered to clean you up, and after, the two of you slept soundly for the rest of the night.

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @averyhotchner @storiesofsvu @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @dr-omalley @morcias @mstrinnyb

[alpacaparkaseok]

Shut Eye

pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS

requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!

_________________________________

You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.

You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.

The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes. 

Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.

He was trying to send you a message. 

He was trying to find you out in this big world. 

You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.

Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.

we talked about family

did we talk about our family??

Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening. 

Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone. 

There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.

The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream. 

Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-

Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.

part of a group (friends?)

Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.

But who was it?

You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.

I recognized the friends - famous?

It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day. 

You’d just have to wait until the next dream.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling,  sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”

Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”

“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”

You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too. 

“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”

“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”

In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”

You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”

“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”

A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”

IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”

“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”

“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope. 

“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”

With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”

“So you’ll do it?”

In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing. 

••••••••••••••••••

Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.

Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.

A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around. 

Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.

He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.

Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world. 

“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.

“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”

He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”

“I am.”

Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”

“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”

He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”

“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”

“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting. 

He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.

You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality. 

You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows. 

Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit. 

Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.

“We’ll find a way. I promise.”

•••••••••••••••••••

It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.

You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.

Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.

“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.

We love each other

•••••••••••••••••••

Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you. 

Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.

Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”

“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad. 

“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”

Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.

You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up. 

There’s only one group that can command that much attention.

You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before. 

Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.

It’s the suit. 

The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right. 

It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled. 

And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.

Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.

In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes. 

For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took. 

Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that. 

Not as Yoongi saw you and knew. 

You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red. 

“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”

The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.

You remembered everything.

The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other. 

You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys. 

You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.

And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.

And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.

“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”

The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.

“I told you we’d find a way.”

Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.

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