#he wishes he knew who his soulmate was. find out why they were lying about that and cheer them up by playing knights. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

babystrcandy · 1 year ago

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interlude | jjk

summary: Growing up you only had one goal: beat Jeon Jungkook. Sometimes you'd win, other times you'd lose. Sometimes he'd lose, other times he'd win. But you'd both walk away from the match thinking the other was the lucky one.

pairing: tlo!jungkook x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | sports au, fwb, fluff word count: 2.9K chapter summary: When Jungkook was little, he used to wish on shooting stars that he'd hear a bell when he met his soulmate. warnings/notes: this is part of my the lucky one jk series; it does not need to be read in order to understand the fic, it's just an extra pov from jk, no smut but i'm leaving this as 18+ because of the topics discussed, typos probably, explicit language, abuse of alcohol mentioned, your name references/inspo, descriptions of anxiety, depression, mental illness, trichotillomania (pulling out of hair: in this case eyelashes), just a lil look into jk's brain, i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know, i hope you enjoy, my loves <3

chapter four 1/2: interlude ( ← previous | next → )

BECOMING SOMEONE HAD NEVER truly been on Jeon Jungkook’s radar. He was born to two loving parents who adored each other as much as they loved him. They weren’t exactly poor or rich, they were just owners of another small restaurant on the streets of Busan, selling mostly chicken that young Jungkook would normally take to school for lunch when it wouldn’t sell.

That was supposed to be his legacy, and he was fine with that. He quite liked helping his mother in the kitchen and packaging the orders.

It wasn’t like they’d sat him down and told him he’d be forced to sell chicken all his life once he got older. No, actually, his mother had always told him to shoot for the stars. He could be anything he wanted as long as he was a good person at the end of the day.

And Jungkook had lived by that.

So becoming someone to him never meant becoming someone great . . . it just meant becoming someone kind.

Until he discovered badminton. You, his mother’s best friend’s daughter, and consequently his best friend since birth, also discovered badminton at the same time. And the both of you . . . the both of you discovered that badminton could be your chance at becoming someone . . . great.

You had taken quite a liking to this fact. You’d been the first to buy all the equipment and when Jungkook said he wasn’t that interested . . . you used all your saved-up birthday money to buy him equipment of his own. (You knew he was just lying anyway. You knew the Jeons didn’t have enough to buy Jungkook his very own racket . . . so you took matters into your own hands. He knew now that was the day he’d developed a crush on you. (A small, childhood crush of course, but still a crush he always remembered.)

He’d never wanted it as much as you, though, and he knew that. He used to think that he did. He used to think that making it to the Olympics would be a dream come true, but even now, after everything, he wasn’t sure if that had ever been true.

Jungkook had loved badminton . . . but he’d been gradually falling out of love with it for years now. But one small fact made it hard for him to admit this: he was good; no . . . he might have been one of the best.

He supposed that was why the little feud with you had started in the first place. He had never really cared about the sport, whereas you had always cared too much, and so his careless actions, yet ever so gracious, results managed to always get under your skin.

And of course, he’d find it funny, mostly because you scrunched your nose in this cute way when you were angry.

(He didn’t like to admit it, but he’d always used to challenge you just to show off to you. Now . . . not in a cruel way . . . but rather, he did it to try to impress you. Yeah . . . it had never really worked out in his favor.)

But he never really minded your attitude toward him. He knew the two of you were some weird kind of friends, and he liked that. He liked having you near him, just like he had liked having Taehyung and Jimin close.

He’d never really liked anyone else . . . (He didn’t realize why until later in life.)

So, yeah, there you had it . . . Jeon Jungkook had the chance to become someone great, but he’d never wanted to be that. He’d just wanted to be kind like his mother had wished him to be. But things didn’t work out that way; Life . . . didn’t work out that way, and in becoming someone great . . . he’d become something he wasn’t proud of.

And that was true . . .

. . . becoming someone had never been on Jeon Jungkook’s radar until he’d turned into someone he barely recognized; until he’d become a ghost of his old self. He hadn’t realized he’d been becoming this . . . person all his life; that it hadn’t started after the incident; that it’d started even when he was a kid.

Because you see, Jungkook had been pulling and plucking at his eyelashes since the sixth grade when he started developing his . . . issues. Like when he’d wake in the morning with his heart racing and his stomach churning, creating a nervous sickness deep inside of him all because he had to attend school. (He’d go all day with that feeling taking over his body. Eventually, he just kind of got used to always having this tight feeling constricting his lungs unless he pretended to fall ill and call his mother to come to pick him up from school.) Or when he’d be left with no choice other than to talk to his peers because that's what you're supposed to do when you're growing up: make friends.

And he’d hide this by putting on a personality. He’d make himself big, loud, and unmissable so no one could ever make him feel small. He’d make fun of himself, make himself seem more approachable, more well-rounded, and less easy to offend. Because if he made himself seem stupid; if he made himself seem laid back . . . no one would think to judge him.

Of course, that didn’t always work. Sometimes people became too comfortable with him. Sometimes so comfortable they’d say things about him to his face, thinking he wouldn’t mind. And while he did make it seem like he didn’t care . . . he did, and hearing those things from people he called friends made him wonder if anyone actually liked him.

That only made him feel more alone.

So he had friends, yes, but none of them ever really knew him because . . . well . . . that had always made him . . . freak out.

And the thing they don't tell you about anxiety: there is no give and take; it just takes and takes and takes.

. . .

He used to think once he got older, these nerves would die down, but he just became scared of new things. He knew how to hide his nerves more now, but storming off toward a bar or disappearing for days on end only worked so much. No matter what he’d always find himself right back at square one . . . He’d sit down by himself, pulling at the ends of his eyelashes because it'd be the only thing he knew that would calm him down.

The funny thing about that was the fact that he used to get compliments about how long his eyelashes were when he was younger (mostly from his mother, followed by her pinching his cheeks but you know . . . ). He didn't even notice just how quickly these compliments stopped once his strange little addiction kicked in. Now in their place were broken lashes and small gaps at the tails of his eyes.

Until the small anxiety tic grew into something so much more . . .

Even as he grew, he never truly learned how to deal with the tight feeling in his chest that would consume him when he got even slightly overwhelmed, and that seemingly small habit never left his side. Like some sick vice, the urge to pluck and pull and pick at his body, at his chapped lips, at his eyelashes, and even the tails of his eyebrows, never went away. They only got worse.

It wasn't until the incident that his strange habit developed into something more gruesome. And this new habit he had developed couldn't be hidden with a silly little white lie. No, this he couldn't hide, because of the simple fact that there was no way he could make things right with his friends, with his teammates, with Tae or even himself. There was no way he could hide just how badly he wished he could take Tae’s place. There was no way anyone could look at him the same again, especially as his tiny habits turned into day-long benders filled with booze and drunk walks back to the dorm. He couldn’t hide the smell of alcohol on his breath no matter how many times he scrubbed at his teeth.

The feeling of numbing everything; of just being able to forget . . . would still stick, and the urge to do it again and again and again would remain because that was the thing about anxiety: it only knew how to take and take and take.

He’d tried to stop a few times before it got worse. He’d tried to quiet the urge and just let it be . . . but he never could, not when he was reminded of what he had done every day.

And the thing was: Jungkook knew he never truly believed he would stop. He had wanted to. Trust him, he wanted to believe that he had actually been getting better, that he wouldn't need the booze and the euphoria which came from numbing the pain inside him. But he always knew he’d give in. He knew his memories would seep back in. They always had.

The past had a way of sneaking up on Jeon Jungkook, and his anxiety only fed on it.

He’d thought he’d left everything behind him. He thought he could live in this sick limbo, forever dotting the line between madness and numbness. Truly, he really thought he could, and he almost did.

Until he saw you again.

He remembered he had walked into that bar all those months again, expecting nothing but another drink in his hand, but there you were, a scowl on your face and a furrowed brow. And suddenly, it was as if he had been transported three years back.

The past was looking him right in the face, and he couldn’t cross it out. He couldn’t put an X on your face and pretend not to know you. He couldn’t pretend to not remember. He couldn’t erase those years. He couldn't erase you.

So he sat down right in front of you, and then he saw it. He’d seen how nervous you had been, trying to make yourself blend in with the group. He’d seen just how different you had become in just three years. And then he saw you bite your fingernails, taking note of the dried blood.

You had an anxious tic, too.

And he wondered if you understood how all this felt.

He wished he could say what his plan was after that, but truth be told: he had no idea. He just remembered touching your hand once and he couldn’t stay away. He supposed a part of him . . . perhaps the part of him stuck in the past couldn’t let a part of you go. And, sure, he wasn’t sure what that all meant but it did mean something . . . and he trusted it.

He still trusted that gut feeling as he brought a hand up to his eyes, rubbing them to clear the sleep from the corners. Dropping his hand, he finally took the time to focus his eyesight, squinting in the dark as he turned his head to the side, finding none other than you sound asleep with your mouth slightly agape as you snored softly.

Then . . . you let one loud snore out, and he couldn’t help it: his grin grew so wide, his eyes crinkling as he silently laughed.

You were a snorer. A loud one at that.

This was something he’d keep to himself.

You’d never admit it if he told you. So he’d keep this to himself. It was something he knew about you that would stay a secret, and that in itself had him attempting to reach for you, but he found that your hand was already clutched tightly around his thumb, stopping him from moving entirely.

With a small smile on his face, he gently pulled the hand wrapped around his thumb, slowly moving you into his arms. Luckily, you were a heavy sleeper, so when he’d finally tucked you into his chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head, you were still snoring into his skin without even stirring in the slightest.

And finally, he could breathe a sigh of relief.

But for what? he still pondered.

And then it hit him.

He’d recognized that look on your face, the nail-biting, your demeanor . . . He recognized it because he knew it well. That look, those feelings, the habits . . . he’d borne those, too. He still did.

Perhaps he had issues with letting the past go. Or perhaps he felt a sense of familiarity with you.

Or maybe he believed in you more than he believed in himself.

And then it clicked.

Jungkook wasn’t exactly a fan of parties. In college, he’d attend them for the sake of his team, perhaps even help throw them, but he’d always find himself standing near Taehyung or Jimin, trying to pass the time before he could crawl into his bed. So . . . when his social battery would drain out . . . Jungkook liked to watch movies.

All kinds of movies . . . sometimes shows. He liked anime and dramas. Hated Pulp Fiction and most sitcoms (mostly because he thought they were trying too hard to be funny half the time). But he didn’t mind romance movies. In fact, he preferred to watch them. He didn’t really find the point in watching something if there wasn’t at least one well-written romance.

He loved love, although it had never really worked out for him, but he still believed in it. His parents had shown him that.

Call him a hopeless romantic, he didn’t care. That was what he was.

He liked thinking that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. It made his anxiety subside enough to let him breathe, although most days he lost sight of that. Most days he lost sight of everything.

But . . . he never truly lost sight of you . . .

Anyway . . .

One of his favorite go-to movies when things would get . . . too much . . . as a kid was Your Name. He loved the art, he loved the plot, the characters . . . everything. He loved the fact that despite it all, a soul connection would always be a soul connection.

When he was little he’d even wished upon shooting stars that he’d hear bells when he found his soulmate. But no bells ever rang, and Jungkook grew up. He realized no bells would ever ring, and that was OK. (He still had just an ounce of hope . . . not that he’d admit that.)

Now . . . OK . . . maybe he was going a little overboard. He’d realized now that perhaps soulmates didn’t exactly exist. Maybe two people just happen to find each other and fit into each other, but where was the fun in that? (Fine, he was getting off track. Fine.))

Soulmates didn’t have to exist. Jungkook could admit that.

But every once in a while, two people find each other and maybe no bells ring and there’s no red string tying them together . . . but . . . they meet and everything else doesn’t seem that scary as long as that person is standing beside them. Maybe that was Jungkook’s fucked up version of love, but he believed in that. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what you’d call fate . . . but it was . . . something . . .

And for a second, as he toyed with your hair, he wondered if you believed in soulmates. That only made him grin, because of course not! You didn’t believe in soulmates, he knew that.

You believed in people.

You believed in . . . him . . .

Jungkook slowly blinked. He knew that now.

He wasn’t exactly sure what that all meant . . . but . . . but you’d sat there and you’d listened to everything that had happened to him . . . and you’d understood. You’d understood him and you’d looked him right in the eyes and told him he wasn’t alone. And fuck . . . he’d believed you.

Maybe it would take a lot longer for him to accept everything you had said, but he did know one thing: you would be there.

And he . . . he wanted to be there for you.

He felt . . . that.

He felt it all.

At the time, he had wondered what he should call this feeling. He’d almost forced himself to stay up half the night with you snoring in his arms while he tried to find the right word, desperately mauling over countless explanations after explanations . . . until . . . well . . .

As Jungkook closed his eyes, squeezing you a little tighter, and breathing in your scent, he realized what he had been trying to ignore ever since he saw you again at the bar all those months ago. He realized why it had always been your opinion that mattered to him the most; why he didn't mind putting on matching froggy headbands with you and doing face masks while just letting the world . . . be; why he could never forget you; why he’d always searched for you in everything . . . even in how he’d dress. He realized why it had always been you; why he would always choose you no matter what over and over again.

And then he realized why that all occurred.

Jungkook loved you.

Wait—

Fuck!

He loved you. He loved you. Holy fuck, he fucking loved you! And fucking hell, he was sure he always had.

He realized this wasn’t just a feeling. There were no bells, and no bells were needed. He couldn’t find a red string tying the two of you together, and he didn’t care to search. He knew this wasn’t just a feeling. No, it was . . . love.

And for a second time that night, he wondered what you believed in . . . and if it included him at all . . .

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withacapitalp · 2 years ago

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I Wish For You Every Time

First Half

Read it on ao3 instead

The drive was so much longer than he was used to.

Normally, Steve didn’t even really bother to look around, and he kind of faded out while he was driving. He had taken these roads every day of his life, he knew them like the back of his hand. On the rare occasion he did look out the window as he drove, he was usually caught up in the simple beauty of Hawkins.

The sloping hills, the big dark trees, the endless expanses of farm land. The town, with people who always waved when they caught your eye, store fronts with big bright signs, and kids on bikes.

Steve was Hawkins blood. Born there, raised there, lived his whole life knowing he was probably going to die there too. His family had their own section in the cemetery for Christ’s sake.

It had never really bothered him before. Steve had always taken comfort in how easy that all sounded. Life had gotten pretty strange in the last few years, but that inevitability of a small town existence was the soothing balm that smoothed over those rough patches.

Well, normally it was soothing. Right now it felt like a death sentence.

Steve looked out the window, and all he saw was a tomb. He looked out the window and all he saw was the same thing he was always going to see. There was nothing surprising, nothing new. Nothing like when he was with Eddie, who would drag him all around trying to find the most interesting things that he had never seen.

But Eddie was gone now, and Steve’s entire life was going to be these same sights forever and ever.

He clenched his hands tighter around the wheel, banishing the sudden inexplicable need to drive his car off the road. He couldn’t do that. Robin was in the car with him.

It was mildly terrifying that Robin’s presence was the only reason Steve wasn’t wrapping his Beemer around one of those trees he used to love so much.

“I can hear you thinking,” Robin said softly, reaching over and turning the radio off. It was too much to ask her to drop it, or let this go. His soulmate was a meddler, and Steve knew it was best to just go along with her.

But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it this time.

“Would’ve figured you’d see the smoke coming out of my ears before you heard my brain trying to work,” Steve joked, mentally begging for her to just go along with him. Make a joke, crack a smile, let him forget that his heart was still breaking.

Not a chance.

“Do you want to stay?”

If she had asked him yesterday, his answer would have been immediate. If she had even asked him an hour ago, Steve would know what to say.

He didn't want to leave Hawkins, he wanted Eddie to stay. He wanted them all to stay exactly where they were.

But he had just watched Eddie drive off into the sunset like it was nothing, and the rest were going to be following soon enough, and his whole world view had flipped on its head. A part of Steve had been so sure it wasn’t happening, so positive that Eddie would realize that he didn’t want to go at the last second.

Now Steve was being confronted with the full experience of not seeing Eddie ever again, and suddenly he couldn’t remember why he wanted to stay in Hawkins so badly.

“I don’t know,” He admitted, because lying to Robin was a stupid plan. She could read him better than anyone in the world, “I don’t- I can’t go anywhere else Robin,”

And wasn’t that the truth? Steve wouldn’t survive anywhere but Hawkins. Here he had a reputation, a name that still carried something when people said it. It wasn’t much, but without that, there wasn’t anything all that special about him. Without that notoriety that still hung around, Steve was just another small town loser.

Wasn’t that pathetic?

“Why can't you go?” Robin pressed, and Steve knew in an instant he could never tell her. Not only would she not believe him, she would be determined to prove him wrong, and Steve didn’t need to deal with that particular can of worms.

“Because I’m not like the rest of you. I’m not destined for greatness,”

He had meant to say it as a joke, but there was too much bitterness carried in the words, too much reality. He was destined for a small town life, nothing special, nothing important. Sure he might end up as the biggest fish again, but there was no escaping his small pond.

“Maybe that’s because you already got there,” Robin observed, cutting through Steve’s thoughts in the easy way she always did, “Seems to me like you’re already pretty great.”

“Thanks Robs,” Steve said with a tiny smile. He reached out and she took his free hand in both of hers, smacking his knuckles with a silly kiss.

Well, he hadn’t lost her yet at least. That would probably hurt even more than losing Eddie.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” Robin said to herself, and Steve’s brow furrowed. He turned to look at his best friend, and she turned her head towards the window, tapping out rhythms against the back of his hand in the way she did when she was hiding something.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked as they pulled into Loch Nora. She shrugged, still not looking at him. He glanced away from Robin and over to his house.

When he saw the front lawn, Steve stopped short, slamming on the brake and jerking them both forward.

“Jesus Christ!” Robin exclaimed, dropping Steve’s hand to rub at her chest where the seat belt had cut into her skin, “What the hell?”

Steve didn’t respond to her, couldn't have even if he wanted to. His mouth was dry, and his mind was blank, and his heart was jackrabbiting so fast Steve was sure it was about to jump out of his chest.

Because there were seven bikes on his lawn. And the kids were there, running around playing some game.

And Eddie was the one chasing them around.

“Steve? Honey?” Robin probed, putting her hand on his arm.

“Why is he here?” Steve whispered, unable to speak any louder.

It had been hard enough to watch Eddie leave the first time. Now he was going to make Steve do it again?!

“Dunno,” Robin lied, acting as if she wasn’t lying. She shrugged and settled back in her seat, doing nothing to hide the smile on her face, “Why don’t we go see what he wants? Maybe he forgot something,”

Oh.

This was a set up.

But for what?

Steve gave Robin a narrow eyed glare, pressing the gas again and smoothly sliding into his driveway like he had never stopped. The kids noticed him pulling in and began to wave, still tripping over each other and cackling loud enough Steve could hear them through the windows.

Normally the sound would make him smile, but Steve’s mouth felt like it was going to permanently be stuck in a thin straight line.

He was going to have to let go of Eddie. Again. He was going to have to break his own damn heart. Again.

Steve wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to deserve it, but there was no doubt in his mind that God was punishing him for something.

Whatever. He’d survive. Maybe.

With that particularly dark thought, Steve yanked his seatbelt off, kicking his car door open and letting it slam shut with a satisfying noise. Robin got out much quieter, quickly moving to his side as the others began to race over.

“Steve!” Eddie shouted, not even bothering to pause as he picked Steve up in a bone crushing hug and spun them both around.

Steve startled and initially began to try and pull away, but when it was clear Eddie wasn’t letting go anytime soon, Steve gave into the temptation. He buried his face in Eddie’s shoulder with a soft laugh, hugging back and taking in a deep breath.

There it was. Motor oil and 2-in-1 shampoo. The same brand that Steve had just bought a bottle of, even though he would never even dream of using that crap in his hair. The bottle wasn’t in his bathroom, it was buried deep in his closet, sitting in a box alongside a bloodstained denim vest, and a few of Eddie’s shirts that he had shamelessly stolen right after Eddie told them all he was leaving.

It was the smell. Steve would still have Eddie’s voice through the phone, but he hadn’t wanted to lose that smell just yet.

It was Eddie Smell, a scent that made the tension in his shoulders fade away, and made him feel safe no matter what. Steve fisted his hands into Eddie’s shirt, holding him even closer and forcing back the stupid tears that were starting to prick in his eyes again as he took a deep breath and lost himself in it.

“Eddie,” Steve practically sighed, unable to let go. He pulled back just enough to look at Eddie’s face.

His eyes were sparkling, and his cheeks were flushed. Steve wanted to kiss him. He was so close. One foot of space, just a little nudge forward.

“What are you doing here?” He asked instead.

“I forgot something,” Eddie stated with an absolutely gorgeous grin, keeping his arms around Steve too.

“I think I’ll just go grab that right now,” Robin said with an innocent little whistle, skipping away.

“Thanks, Buckley,” Eddie called after her, and she turned, walking backwards as she gave a silly two fingered salute.

“Both of you thanking me before you should,” Robin said, shaking her head. She faced forward again, disappearing into Steve’s house without any explanation.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, not liking the silence that followed his question. When it came to his kids, silence was exceptionally bad. He looked around Eddie, and, very conveniently, all of them seemed to be preoccupied looking at the trees or the clouds in the sky.

Unacceptable.

“Dustin,” Steve barked, startling the boy into making eye contact, “Tell me what’s going on,”

“Why me?” Dustin groaned, and Steve smirked.

“Because you can’t keep secrets,” He replied. It was true, he had never met a kid who had more trouble keeping his mouth shut. He had told Will about his surprise party not even two hours after Mike had suggested the idea to all of them.

“Mayfield,” Eddie said almost immediately after Steve’s explanation. Max burst into action, smacking Dustin’s shin with her closest cane. He howled in pain and hopped on one foot, giving her a dirty look.

“Say nothing. Put your hands over your ears if you have to,” She instructed him, glancing away from Dustin for just a second only to give her babysitter a completely unremorseful shrug, “Sorry Steve,”

“What are you doing? What did you forget at my house?” Steve demanded, releasing Eddie just so he could put his hands on his hips. It wasn’t quite as effective when it was Eddie or the other adults, but Steve’s Mom Pose did still carry some weight.

“Hopefully something you’re gonna like?” Eddie offered, finally stepping back to give Steve space. He was playing with his hair the way he did when he was nervous, glancing up at Steve from behind his locks with those beautiful browns.

Steve didn’t want to make Eddie feel bad, but he was also beyond confused, and the whiplash of emotions hitting him all afternoon was more than intense. Just as he was about to interrogate further, Argyle’s van roared into Loch Nora, horn beeping and radio turned up to maximum volume.

“Sorry we’re late, Argyle got lost,” Jonathan said as he climbed out. Steve wasn’t sure how they could be late coming to his damn house when he hadn’t even invited him, but he just needed to accept the fact that he was the only one not in the know right now.

“Your corn roads are confusing,” Argyle complained as they walked over together, “Did you tell him yet?”

“Well I would if everyone would just stop interrupting,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes, as if he had any right to be annoyed right now.

“What is going on?” Steve groaned, over the theatrics. He had been expecting to come home and drown his sorrows in cheap wine and terrible movies. Now the object of those sorrows was standing right in front of him, acting like he had any right to be there.

“I told you, I forgot something,” Eddie repeated and Steve laughed incredulously.

“What?! What could you have possibly forgotten that was this important?” Steve asked, throwing up his hands. At this rate, he was just going to open the door and let Eddie take whatever he damn wanted from the stupid house.

“You.”

What?

“What?” Steve asked, his voice almost too faint to be heard, all traces of anger vanishing.

“I forgot you,” Eddie stated, like that sentence made a lick of sense.

A commotion at the door grabbed their attention. Robin was standing on the front step, a giant cardboard box in her hands, and two of his duffle bags at his feet.

“Hey! Jackasses! Stop ogling and help me put this stuff in Eddie’s van,” She called.

The kids jumped into action, running over to take things from her and start loading the back of Eddie’s van with Steve’s things. Jonathan and Argyle walked past Steve and Eddie to help them, but Nancy stopped at their sides, holding out a folder that looked just like the one she had given Eddie.

“I put in a bunch of applications for you. You got into Hunter, Pace, and Hofstra. Sorry I forged your signature,” Nancy apologized, not sounding sorry in the slightest as she continued to leaf through the thick stack of papers and point things out, “I also included a whole section on community colleges, and some financial aid stuff that you can apply for. There’s also the same information I gave Eddie about jobs in towns around the city, but I think you should go to one of the three 4-years. They each have a really good education program that I think you would like,”

With that, Nancy stood on her tiptoes and kissed Steve’s cheek, handing over the folder and giving Eddie a raised eyebrow look.

“Remember what we talked about, Munson,” She teased in a warning tone, “This one is special, you treat him right,”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie said with full seriousness.

And then Nancy was gone, inserting herself into the messy game of Car Jenga that the rest were playing and barking out orders left and right.

“I don’t understand,” Steve said helplessly. At first he had been up in the air, watching as thoughts lazily drifted past him. Now he was hurtling towards Earth as his mind raced for all the possibilities, all the different things that might be happening, all the different reasons Eddie might have thought he was forgetting Steve.

He had one idea that he really wanted to be right, but it was insane. Completely, wholly, utterly insane. And if he let himself think that he was right and he turned out to be wrong, Steve just knew he would never recover. He would hit the ground with a crash, breaking all of his bones and losing any ability to ever breathe again.

Luckily, Eddie would never let him fall for that long.

“I can’t stay in Hawkins. I just can’t. I tried, but it just- there’s too much,” Eddie started, waving a hand around his head as if that explained what ‘too much’ was, “But I kept trying. I kept trying because I knew I couldn't stay, but I also knew I couldn’t lose you.”

“Eddie-”

“I mean, that’s crazy isn’t it?” Eddie said cutting Steve off with a nervous little giggle and diving right into full ramble, “It’s totally bonkers. But it’s true. I wake up, and you’re the first thing I think about. I go to sleep, and there you are, the last thought of my day. I always want to know what you think about things, and I always want to be the one that makes you laugh, because you have the most wonderful laugh I’ve ever heard, and I want to be the one you bitch to about everything, and the thought of not getting to see you every single day made my heart hurt so bad I was sure I was dying.”

It was all starting to sound like a confession, but Steve couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He was still kind of convinced he was about to wake up in bed, and all of this would just be a dream.

“So I figured it out. I can’t stay, but I also can’t leave without you,” Eddie declared, confirming all of Steve’s greatest and worst fears.

Eddie was still leaving.

He was leaving, but he wanted Steve to go with him.

Here it was. A perfect ticket out of Hawkins with the guy that Steve wanted more than he had ever wanted anyone before. It was everything he could ever want being handed to him on a silver plate…

And Steve was shaking his head no.

“I-” Steve paused, mentally screaming at himself for saying no. He wanted to say yes more than anything, but the idea of leaving today was completely incomprehensible, “I can’t just leave. I- you- what about my job?”

“Oh you quit when I did,” Robin called out, revealing that the rest had definitely been eavesdropping the entire time. They were just standing around the van now, openly staring and watching to see what Steve said.

“No I didn’t,” Steve argued back. As far as he knew he was on shift tomorrow at noon.

“Ahhhhh, yeah you did. Or I did for you,” She snorted, laughing at her own memories, “And ‘we’ told Keith that he was a creepy pervert who could go fuck himself, so you’re really not getting that job back,”

No job tying him here anymore. So why was Steve still shaking his head no?

“The kids?” Steve wondered aloud.

Yes. That’s why he was saying no. He had seven nuggets here who depended on him for rides, and advice, and support.

Never mind that they were getting old enough to drive on their own, and Steve could give them pretty much everything they needed over the phone. Steve still just couldn’t up and abandon them without a second thought.

He looked at his little group of brats that really weren’t so little anymore, searching their faces for even a hint of hesitation. If he saw even one of them wasn’t okay with this, he was saying no and sticking to it.

But they were all just smiling like they already knew what he was going to do.

“You know I think we might just survive without you,” Mike deadpanned. Max elbowed him, and Will rolled his eyes at his best friend’s lack of emotional intelligence.

“And, Eddie promised to make sure you call us each personally at least once a week, with one big group call on Sundays,” Lucas tacked on, bounding over and adding one more sheet to the top of Steve’s folder, “We put together this chart for you,”

Steve looked down at the light green construction paper. It was a drawing of a tree adorned with star stickers and little stick figures of him and the party on different branches with the days of the week written on them. The words ‘MOMS PHONE TREE’ were printed bright and bold at the top, and Will and Erica’s signatures were both at the bottom. Each of the kids had taken a different day, except for Lucas and Erica, who were sharing Saturday.

“They’re the age we were when we started dealing with all of this, so if something does go wrong, they’ll be able to handle it until we get home,” Jonathan said with a shrug, pulling Steve’s attention away from the paper, “Plus, everything is over, right El?”

She paused, letting her eyes dart around for a second before turning to Steve with one of her quiet little smiles.

“Nothing bad,” She reassured him, “We are safe now,”

They were safe.

The statement meant more than just safe from Upside Down Shenanigans, more than safe from having to fight monsters that lurked in the dark. They didn’t need Steve to protect them now, and they wouldn’t be the reason he held himself back.

“I told you, they’re not babies anymore,” Nancy said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. She was giving Steve one of those pin-him-down-and-examine-him looks, the kind she always gave him when she knew he was trying to hide, “They’ll be okay,”

“Besides you guys are coming to visit, obviously,” Dustin said, his stupid irritating tone grating on Steve’s nerves even as it made him smile, “All holidays, my birthday, and at least two weeks over the summer. And we’re coming to you too.”

Not losing them forever then. Not forgetting to keep in touch. When Steve had been on the other side of this, he had been sure that they would stop wanting to call.

Now that he was the one who might be going, he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to lose touch with any of them.

But Steve was still shaking his head, and he had no idea why.

“I can’t. I mean, I can’t just go. That’s crazy, that’s-”

“Steve,”

Eddie’s voice dragged Steve’s attention to him, making him go silent and still. Any nerves Eddie had been having before had magically evaporated into thin air. He cupped Steve’s face, mouth turning up ever so slightly into a cocky smirk when Steve gasped as his fingers touched his cheek.

“You can stay if you really want to. I’m not gonna tie you up and throw you in my trunk,” Eddie teased, pausing before his voice got even softer, words meant just for the two of them, “But I have a feeling you don’t want to stay, and you’re just too scared to admit it.”

It was the truth, but it was too raw, too real. It exposed the deepest darkest parts of him. That underneath the bravado and the stupid levels of courage- Steve was afraid. He was afraid of being alone, but he was also afraid of not being alone.

He had been alone pretty much all his life, and the idea of having people, only to eventually lose them, was just petrifying.

“Also, I stole your dandelion wish. Sorry,” Eddie added, completely throwing Steve for a loop.

“My dandelion?” He questioned, not following Eddie’s train of thought.

“Yep! I stole your wish, and I’m really hoping mine comes true, so you’re gonna have to take yours back,” Eddie replied.

“...What’d you wish for?” Steve asked, his heart racing with the possibilities.

“I wished for you not to punch me in the face after I do this,” Eddie answered, bringing his other hand up before capturing Steve in a kiss.

It was a chaste little thing, barely more than a press of their lips. As far as first kisses go, it was the most innocent one he had ever had. When Eddie pulled away, there was a pretty blush starting on his cheeks, and the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen.

Steve was a total addict, and one taste of this drug was enough to have him hooked for life.

He laughed softly, throwing caution to the wind as he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and dragged him into a proper kiss. It was way messier than their first one, and he could hear the kids moaning and whining about how ‘gross’ it was, but Steve couldn't remember ever being happier than he was at this moment.

Eddie was leaving.

Eddie was never going to stay. He had always known that. But that didn’t mean Steve had to be left behind.

Eventually they had to come up for air, and they broke apart with a sigh, pressing their foreheads together as Steve let his eyes slip shut, contentment washing over his entire body like a cool breeze.

“So what do you say?” Eddie joked, already knowing the answer.

“I say that I’m glad you stole my wish,” Steve whispered against his lips, already leaning back in.

Tag List: @alyelf @ceaselessly-watching @dbquills @knightofthieves @b-icetea @henderdads

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seokmn · 4 months ago

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chapter VIII : beers and late night talks

wc: 1.1k words

“so,” you said after taking a sip of your beer, looking at the night sky above you and seokmin, “one of my friends found his soulmate today”

seokmin only nodded, taking a sip of his beer before speaking up, “did it bother you? the fact that another person in your life found their soulmate and you still have no string with someone?”

“yes and no. im happy for him, i truly am.. but i got a bit jealous, not gonna lie. i felt the need to have the same experience, you know?” you looked down and scoffed, “ive always been so nonchalant about the fact that i dont have a soulmate, i always thought ‘oh, thats fine. i can still live my life’, but the past couple days ive been finding myself thinking about it, watching couples from far away… it kinda sucks”

“what if you were never okay with it? what if you were lying to yourself this whole time? or maybe you were fine with it because of your friends’ support, but sometimes only support is not enough?”

you looked at him and he looked back at you, his facial features glowing in the moonlight, you looked back to your lap and then to the city view, “maybe its a bit of all that you said.. i dont know. its not like im dying to have a soulmate, i just wish i knew how it feels to be loved, but i avoid getting into relationships”, you sighed, “i think that we can fall in love and people can fall in love with us, i truly believe we can have happy relationships with other people, even if theyre not our soulmate, but the relationship wont last long because those people are not made for us. we are destined to die without a lover, so all we can do is enjoy the short moments those people can give to us and we can give to them”

“so why do you avoid getting into relationships?”, seokmin leaned closer to you, his eyes full of curiosity as he took another sip of his beer.

“because if i fall in love with them i wont be able to move on. you see, every person has their own identity, their own opinions, their own habits that can be so dear to me. you can never replace anyone.. it hurts too much having to let someone go and leave someone," you fixed yourself in your chair, "there's a quote of one of my favorite movies that i really relate to, 'i tend to see in people little details, specific to each of them that move me and that i miss, and ill probably always miss'. i had a lot of platonic relationships that didnt work out, fake friends, etc.. and it hurt too much when they came to an end. if it hurts me so bad losing a friend, can you imagine how losing a loved one will destroy me? i’d rather stay lonely than go from relationship to relationship just because the cant stay. i know none of them is the one for me, because i dont have ‘the one’ and im nobody's 'the one'”

“woah…” seokmin leaned back in the chair and looked at you with wide eyes and you chuckled, “i think i went too far, didnt i?”

“a bit, but i liked your thought about it”

“what about you? why are you in a relationship if she already has a soulmate?”

“because.” seokmin sighed, “okay, not only because. its complicated, she used to be the only one who knew that i dont have a soulmate before you come to my life, but there’s a reason for why we date.” he paused, clearly wanting to change the subject, “...why do you work at a bookstore? is it your dream or…?”

you shook your head, “my dream is to write a book about my life as someone who doesn’t have a soulmate, but i think im still too young and too naive to write a book about it yet. i want my book to be life changing to the readers, just like the one i gave you was to me”

“i think your thoughts about it are quite interesting, so why not write now?”, he asked opening another can of beer and handing it to you, you mumbled a thank you and took a deep breath, “i have a journal just to write about this ever since i turned 18, but writing a book is something else, is something way more serious. i want people to praise my writing, to praise my thoughts and my work in general, i still need to practice my writing and all of that. but what about your dream?”

“im already living my dream,” seokmin smiled, “im an actor, i act in musicals”

“really?! are you famous? i never heard about you, at least i think so, maybe i just forgot..”

“how do i say that im famous without sounding like im bragging?” you both chuckled, “i’m also known as dokyeom”

you gasped, recognizing the name dokyeom, “my best friend went to your musical! she loved it!”, seokmin smiled shyly, “im glad to know she loved it”

“im sorry i didn’t recognize you, but i know nothing about the musical theatre industry and i never really payed attention to it…”

“its okay, it felt good to be treated as a 'normal' person, please don’t change just because im famous”

“relax, im not like that”, as you said that, you saw seokmin sighing in relief and you chuckled at the sight of him being relieved.

you two kept talking until late at night, if it wasn’t by your constant yawns, the conversation would keep going until the sunrise.

“you seem quite tired, we should call this a day”

“i agree.. im almost sleeping here”, you chuckled, “im sorry for ruining the night again. i really wanted to keep going with the conversation”

“come on, dont say that. im getting sleepy as well and the night has been nothing but amazing. its quite late now, do you want me to walk you home?”

you shook your head, “i dont want to bother you”

“please, i want to make sure you get home safe”

“okay, if you insist.. lets go, its not far away from here”

he nodded and you two left the rooftop of the bookstore, going outside the place and starting to walk towards your house right after you locked the bookstore. the comforting silence filled the air, but you noticed that from time to time seokmin would look at you, as if he wanted to say something, but he would always end up looking away and remaining silent.

after a few minutes of walking you suddenly stopped and looked at him with a smile on your face, “its here”, seokmin looked at the house and smiled a bit, “so i guess i should get going. it was great seeing you, yn”

“it was great seeing you as well, seokmin. bye!” you waved at him as he started to walk away.

seokmin called a cab and during the whole drive he couldnt stop thinking about you and your words, he admired how you were such an interesting person, he also thought a lot about how cute you looked while you explained to him why you didnt want to write your book just yet and while he was walking you home. fuck, what if he is becoming attracted to you?

prev - next

INVISIBLE STRING

in a world where when you turn 18 you share an invisible string with your soulmate that only you and your respective soulmate can see it, seokmin, also known as dokyeom, is an actor in the musical theatre world that doesnt have a soulmate and keep it as a secret. meanwhile, yn works in a bookstore and doesnt seem bothered at all by the fact of not sharing a string with someone. is it possible to change the destiny and find your soulmate even tho you dont share the invisible string with anyone?

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lo1k-diamonds · 9 months ago

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Call You Mine💜 Chapter 1

PAIRING: idol!Yoongi x OC

SUMMARY: Freya despises everything soulmate-related, but one day her soulmate shows out of nowhere and turns everything upside down.

"Why didn’t you reach out to me?" Her eyes watered in response to his words and he was certain. "You knew who I was, how I was suffering." It pained him to say so, but he knew it was true. It had to be a conscious decision. And he had to know why.

A slowburn rejection soulmate story to make you fall in love with Min Yoongi (again).

WORD COUNT: 7.4k (Total: 297k)

GENRE: Rejection, Soulmate AU, s2l

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: angst, huge ass story that is an emotional rollercoaster, rejection (tho it has a happy ending), OC has a strong personality and flaws (all my characters do really), desperation, explicit sexual content, semipublic I guess?, riding, consensual but there's conflict, soulmate bond is inescapable and shit happens

(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted in December 2022)

A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Yoongi's story is the third of the Soul Palette Series (but the one that started it all). Again, it is a realistic rejection soulmate story because I wanted a story where the female character doesn't lose her backbone as soon as [insert soulmate] shows in the picture/has sex. Lots of angst and fighting until the stars align ;)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

"Poetry, music, a painting, they don’t save the world. But they save the minute. And that is enough.” Matilde Campilho

What were the odds?

“Freya, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I am,” she answered nonchalantly, looking out through the car window.

Her mood soured with the conversation and the woman steering the wheel sighed. “Whenever the subject of soulmates gets brought up you just become…” Freya gave her an ice-cold look from the shotgun seat. That made the woman mad, “Insufferable.”

Freya smirked through her pain and looked away again.

The woman sighed again, “We’ve been friends for almost nine years. Don’t you think I know you by now?”

Freya placed her elbow on the car door, supporting her chin on her hand. Her fingers covered her mouth strategically. She knew the lecture that was about to happen, Lidia never missed a chance to try and change her mind about this topic. She didn’t have the heart or energy to fight it anymore.

“Soulmates are each other's halves,” she started and Freya just clenched her jaw. “You were born with one, two parts of a whole.” Freya couldn’t have heard it or learned it better if she was in primary school. Sarcastic thoughts like that would flood her every time Lidia pulled that sermon on her. “Just because barely half the population finds theirs, does not mean yours isn’t out there.”

“Sure, he might be out there, but I wish to be like the other half of the population. You know, the one that was able to live happily by being with the people they chose to be with,” Freya said with a hint of victory.

“Fair, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that their soulmates are still out there. They might have never met, but that doesn’t mean one should just ignore it or—”

“I’m not ignoring it,” Freya cut, annoyed. “I told you, I never met that person. Why would I lie!”

“I don’t know, maybe because you hate the idea of soulmates so much!” Lidia yelled back, fortunately without taking her eyes out of the traffic. Motorcycles were insane, trying to get in between the moving cars to get ahead. Freya was happy it was Lidia driving them to the venue. Lidia took a deep breath, “If something happened to him, you know you can tell me…”

Freya sighed, feeling stuck in the same loop, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met him.”

She hoped that would be the end of it, for now at least. Lidia seemed fixated on the idea that she was lying about her soulmate, that something tragic had happened, or that she was avoiding the person. Which didn’t make any sense according to her own rules, for fuck’s sake! Wouldn’t she be sick and whatnot if that was the case?

“Fine,” Lidia relented, as she always did when confronted with Freya's bitterness. “I would just like you to be open-minded when you do.”

Freya bit her tongue to hold back her remark and let the car fall into silence. She hated that topic and now it was stuck in her mind. She had never met that person and she never wanted to. She had no open-mindedness to offer because she would never be okay with it. And she wished she could just yell it out until it got through Lidia’s thick sand castles and baby cupids and stupid pink heartshaped butterflies: meeting your soulmate was terrible.

Sure they were supposed to be your other half, but they could literally be on the other side of the world. With different cultures and upbringings, you could be paired with a terrorist, misogynist, psychopath, the list went on. Who was it to say that person would actually fit your personality and values? Absolutely nothing, as history showed. Quite frankly, the fifty percent of the populace that never met them were the lucky ones. Never meeting them meant never experiencing withdrawals of absence. Never bending or nullifying your beliefs and values for the sake of someone else that, though unique, was probably not even the best match for you.

Because let’s face it: though science had proven its existence, who was to say the bond meant the same to everyone, or that it should be the same? For scientists, it was perceived more as an absolute physical attraction that would lead to the best procreation. That had nothing to do with love, with fated partners, or whatever else was mediatized. It all looked more like a romanticized publicity trope used to sell way more chocolates, flowers, and cards than Valentine’s Day. Or to make people feel misfitted and incomplete until they did find that person, instigating them to consume goods, programs, matchmaking events, anything that could speed that along. Why should anyone live with the unrelenting weight of not having met someone they never needed? That could ruin them, their lives? It was all terrible!

She would have known if she had met that person. Though she in general avoided physical contact, the mere presence of the other person was supposed to be enough for the both of them to know. She of course had no idea what it would feel like, soulbonds were also reported with different intensities for different people, but she was sure she’d know if that fateful moment ever occurred. Moreover, she would feel the withdrawal. Though tolerable to some, especially with medication, it would be impossible not to feel anything. She knew that’s how it would always play out: even if she avoided them and ran through the nearest exit as soon as she felt the bond, the need would hunt her, both of them, for as long as they lived. That was something she was willing to endure, though she honestly hoped she never had to. If she never met him, she’d never have to. So, she wished she never would. Simple.

Freya glanced at Lidia, who was now pulling over the security of the event and showing them her badge. Lidia couldn’t possibly understand her standpoint, and as much as they would fight about it, Freya wasn’t interested in shattering her dreams. If Lidia could one day live happily ever after with her fated mate and actually be happy, Freya would gladly support her. She just couldn’t be deluded by the idea like Lidia.

Their nine years of friendship were very precious to Freya. Though the focus on her career had led her astray from many of her friendships, Lidia always stuck by her. She was one of her dearest friends. She would always call and catch up on her, whether Freya was at a fashion runway, strike, or in a warzone. Maybe that was why Lidia was the only person she ever gave two cents to in regard to soulbonding. Everyone else was free to be their own idiot, but Lidia was her idiot. Freya didn’t want to see her get hurt. Lidia felt the exact same way, she knew that. It was the only reason they fought about it in the first place.

Lidia parked the car in the underground parking lot and Freya was forced to move. They were still by the entrance of the arena, the lights from the streets made their way to where they were. Lidia opened the trunk and Freya got her material ready. There was noise in the air and she kept trying to figure out what it was.

Lidia closed the trunk when Freya gave the nod and Freya’s blue eyes widened in shock. Beyond the entrance, behind the security barrier, there was a sea of people. People chanting, jumping, and screaming.

Lidia was smirking at the sight, “Not your typical warzone, is it?”

Freya pulled her camera that was hanging on her chest to her face, regulating the lens to focus on them. They were mostly girls shouting, around their twenties, some if that. They had colorful banners with letters stamped on them and sticks with a ball that seemed to shine.

Click.

She looked briefly at the photo on the view screen, then up again at them. She was surprised.

“No, but similar. What could it be that makes them act like that?”

Lidia was passing her her media badge to access the event.

“Boys.”

He woke up from his nap, dazed. He kept having the same dream. He had had it for a while and in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it properly. Now, he could. No faces or characteristics, but he knew it was always the same person he dreamt of. When he told it to the others, they thought it had to be his soulmate and he had found the idea hilarious at first, that was impossible. But then, with the years, he started wondering. Was it that far-fetched that there was a connection between them if they were two pieces of the same soul? Maybe their pieces had an incredible bond and that was why he could dream of her.

Her. He couldn’t remember much, but he did remember that, which brought more weight to the possibility of her being his soulmate since soulmates were always of the opposite sex. For him, love or a partner was always about the connection, the person, not about their appearance or gender. He never felt like he had a gender preference because he would always look at personality first, but his soulmate would be female and he was okay with it. Though honestly, despite dreaming of her occasionally, he couldn’t conceive a relationship — he hadn’t had a serious one in almost ten years.

Life made it that way, and he accepted it. His career had taken off in a way he had dreamed and actually achieved. He was surrounded by amazing people, professionals, friends, and family alike. He had his fans, who supported him and allowed him to live every single one of his dreams, from making music, to not worrying about money, to being able to support his family comfortably. Did he ever wonder if loneliness was a price to pay for it all? Yes. Did he think it was? No. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, or his soulmate. They would show in due time. He was living, bit by bit, in tranquility.

He of course thought about what would happen if he met her. Seokjin and Hoseok had found theirs and they were exceedingly happy. They gave all others the hope of a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment, though none were particularly searching for it. ARMYs didn't know about their discovery, they had decided it that way. Not even necessarily because of the fans, but because of the sasaengs and paparazzi. The lack of privacy would be overwhelming and the men didn't wish to ruin their soulmates' lives.

If anyone had to choose who appeared the least interested in the whole soulmate trope it would probably be him. Yoongi was known for many things, he was aware, and the top included being snarky, lazy, and perfectionist. Some probably saw him as the most cold, obsessed with his music, a workaholic. It was somewhat true, he shrugged. Ideas were constantly in his mind and he was the happiest if he was putting them to life. That meant spending a lot of time by himself in the comfort and safety of his studio, space, and mind. It also meant he slept a lot. None of those characteristics meant he actually was cold or uninterested in finding his soulmate. Quite on the contrary, sometimes it felt it was the exact piece that was missing. He lived with it, but he wouldn't deny it or reject it if it happened. He would welcome her wholeheartedly, he had been waiting for some time now.

There was pressure to perform in front of thousands of people that night, as it was BTS’s last tour date in Europe, in Berlin. He was very tired, exhausted really, as were the others, but they were persevering. They had to, the quiet that would come after would be both a soothing balm and a curse. They had to make the best of it while they could, no matter what.

He was reflecting on that, at the backstage lounge after having slept a nap. The others were getting ready for the concert in other ways, though they were all quiet as the stress was building up. He walked out to reach the stylist's room and get his makeup done, knowing he would be the last one to do so when he felt it. He stumbled against the door awkwardly, completely taken by surprise. He looked around in shock, meeting the makeup artists’, hairdressers’, and stylists' surprised looks.

She was there. She was there somewhere.

He was there somewhere. Freya was certain of it. She knew she would know when it happened and she knew. She was terrified, petrified in place, but she knew.

“Freya, what’s wrong?”

Lidia sounded worried and Freya blinked blankly for a second. She had fallen against the wall and was now leaning against it. People were passing in between them in that corridor in both directions, oblivious to them, most speaking a language she didn’t understand.

Freya immediately forced a smile, dismissing her question. “I’m fine, I just tripped.”

Lidia accepted it because, in the turmoil of people running around backstage, that wasn’t surprising. Little did she know what happened. Freya was nearly sweating from nervousness, her body too hot to handle the May warmth.

How could that be, she thought, while following Lidia. She had lived in Berlin her whole life, why would it have to happen at a boy band concert? It made no sense, at all. On one hand, she had been super lucky to never stumble on him her whole life. On the other, really, a boy band concert? What if it was one of the fanboys outside?

That was her worst nightmare coming to reality. She wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, but for fuck’s sake she almost had it. She almost lived a life in ignorance, free of fated bullcrap and withdrawal symptoms. Now she was facing her options: to run away immediately, to finish the job and hopefully never stumble on him, or to search for him. The latter wasn’t an option, and to leave without finishing the job was unprofessional. Lidia had asked her to be there to photograph that piece, the last concert date of the boy band in Europe, and she felt obligated to carry it through. They had an exclusive interview for their culture magazine and those photographs would make the fans go insane. Her professional code was above all else, she had fought tooth and nail to achieve everything she had. She vowed to never let her soulmate change her and it would certainly not start now.

Avoiding the person would probably be impossible, she considered, still following Lidia. The stadium was packed with fans and crew, there was no avoiding whoever it was. Since people kept passing through her constantly, she thought their bond must be pretty strong. Otherwise, how could it be that the sensation wasn’t fading as the person walked past her? They probably weren’t even walking past her. They were just somewhere in the vicinity.

There was no photoshoot scheduled, just the interview. When they walked into the artists' backstage lounge it was relatively quiet. There were seven, distinctively sitting in the corner of the room that had been lit and specially prepared for the occasion. Freya was surprised the artist’s crew had prepared that small arrangement for the interview, as it would usually be up to the magazine to arrange it.

She stayed by the door and grabbed her camera, pulling it to her face.

Lidia walked ahead with a gorgeous smile, “Hello everyone! Are we late? I hope you didn't wait long.”

The question was rhetorical, they were well ahead of time. Freya was immediately immersed in seeing life through her lens. She would do what she did best, soulmate pull bothering her or not.

She did not pay attention to the conversation between Lidia and the publicists, managers, and whoever else. She was certain Lidia pointed at her because she saw it through her camera.

"Just ignore her," Lidia said with a smile, glancing back at the camera. Lidia knew she liked to work in peace.

She wasn't a photographer who would take a thousand pictures to be able to choose one. She would take ten to choose five. That meant being very conscious of every angle, light, positioning, and framing. Everything had to be perfect. She had won awards for pictures she barely had to edit precisely because of her attention to detail. In warzones, she was severely limited in time and supplies, she had to make due. It wasn't the same circumstance, but her work ethic applied.

She liked seeing the crew work around them tirelessly and she wasn't shy about snapping photos of them. She was certain then that the concert was only about 20% the actual musicians. Not to diminish their work, but the show itself was not of their making. They were just starring in it.

The interview was well underway when she turned to the artists themselves. That wasn't problematic, their smile wouldn't change between the first and last question. She actually believed they'd relax more as the questions progressed, making their photos portray their true nature better.

Those thirty minutes flew truly by. She quickly scanned the photos she took through the view screen to make sure she had all seven in perfect soul-capturing moments, but she frowned. There was one that was different. He was speaking in the photo she took, he had an honest expression, and a beautiful complexion, but she didn't feel like the photo was as good as the others. He wasn't captured as well.

She raised her eyes to look at him and her heart jumped a beat. He was looking down, hands over his crossed legs. His hair was beautifully styled over his forehead, he looked almost like a doll. He sure was frozen, but she knew he was listening. His bandmate was answering a question in English and Lidia laughed, not too loud but not fakely either. That man smiled, not out of politeness, but out of understanding. Out of deeper thoughts. Something more meaningful.

Click.

She hadn't even thought of it, she had to capture it. Her stomach was twisting, she wasn't feeling too well. Damned soulbond shenanigans. She usually did very well in crowds, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She slipped through the entrance door and left. She was fighting hard for what was happening so as not to ruin her day.

He was barely containing himself. He had an urge, an energy pulse that wanted to pull at him and take him somewhere. He was sitting as still as he could, respectfully listening to the interview and answering when appropriate. He felt his smile might give it away, so he kept looking down. Some of the others noticed and touched him soothingly in worry, patting his back or shoulder softly. He stayed quiet, he couldn’t tell them yet.

When the journalist left and the room emptied a bit in the last ten minutes before the final preparations, he was finally free.

"What's wrong, Yoongi?" Hoseok was worried.

"Yeah, why didn't you answer the next album question?" Namjoon’s tone wasn't of irritation, just curiosity. "It's your question."

"You were really stiff too," Jimim commented with a concerned pout. They were next to each other and Jimin had at one point patted his lower back.

"Guys, let him talk," Seokjin interfered, waving his hand in front of his face. Was he getting hot? Cause Yoongi was burning up, and sweating without the show even starting.

"Look at him, he's flustered," Taehyung commented, looking at him from real close. Yoongi scoffed and brushed him away.

"Here's water, hyung," Jungkook offered him a water bottle which he gladly took.

"Guys," his voice sounded weird even to him. Since when was it this emotional? "I feel it."

"What?"

"Are you sick?"

"Don't push yourself too hard."

"Guys!" He grabbed Taehyung by the shoulders, who was still close and personal. He would have been annoyed if the occasion was different, he really didn’t care now. "I feel it. Her. She's here somewhere tonight. I feel it right now."

Chaos ensued, with some congratulations and some worries echoing throughout the room. They barely had a minute to discuss it with their manager Sejin, the first to be informed.

They were rushed to the level underneath the stage and the manager just smacked Yoongi’s shoulder, "Focus on the show. We'll find her after."

He was nervous now, and not about the show. His mind was processing the facts now. The person wasn't in the crew, he would have felt it before. It had to be someone who entered the venue when he felt it. That could be anyone, from fans to workers, and little could be done to slim the number down from tens of thousands to one. That thought made him despair. How would he ever find her in so many people?

"Hey," Namjoon had his hand over his shoulder. His eyes had a glint of concern, but his expression exuded confidence. "She feels you too." Yoongi nodded, taking a deep breath. "She'll probably come forward after the concert."

"She's probably an ARMY," Hoseok winked. Yoongi just shrugged, he didn't care if she was. That was the least of his concerns right now.

"Just think this is for her, for all of them," Jimin added with a light smile.

Yoongi nodded and rushed to the stage, the same as them. He gave it his all. He was exhausted, but he wasn't giving up. He knew he shocked his brothers because he had probably never shown such a performance before. He couldn't explain it. He had newfound energy, and hope. Things would be different from now on, for the best. The thought that she was listening, and seeing him perform gave him an extra incentive. He teased the public way more than usual. He rarely displayed his English skills as openly, but the circumstances told him she couldn't be Korean. Whoever she was in that crowd, he wanted to make sure she knew they could communicate. Could she even tell it was him? She was probably as lost as he was.

The pull was hard. Freya was facing the whole crowd from that spot, near the stage. She could easily take pictures of the stage, as well as the fans. She was trying to focus on her job, but something kept interrupting her. Sometimes she would feel goosebumps all over her body, though she did not know why. Maybe if that guy stopped talking on the microphone all the time, she could actually hear herself think.

She rubbed her eyes with a sigh; the show was almost ending, it would be over soon. She was particularly snappy because of the bond-induced tension, she knew that. She would be able to leave as soon as it ended, just a little while longer.

Or so she thought. The venue started emptying and Lidia insisted for them to stay. She didn't complain at first, taking pictures of the heartbroken fans when the show ended. Most of them were emotional, tears staining their faces, but they were smiling. For them, it must have been a life experience to see BTS on stage. If only Freya could have appreciated it as much. She also wanted to cry. She wanted to run away so badly.

The venue was nearly empty when a publicist showed up to call for Lidia. Apparently, there were some matters left to discuss. Lidia nudged Freya, saying how nice it was of them to let them experience the concert for free before getting back to business. Freya knew it was nice, but she just shrugged. She wanted to leave.

But she couldn't, Lidia was her ride. She could always run away either way, but it wasn't professional.

"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked, willing.

"No, it's just a meeting. Footage of the fans leaving, the empty poststage and backstage, or even the tired artists are more important. Make it count," Lidia winked before leaving. She probably didn't notice Freya’s expression, as excited as if she was sucking on a sour lemon.

She needed to calm down, she thought. She had to be professional above all else. She could not, and would not, have that stupid occurrence ruin her photojournalist reputation. Over her dead body.

She exited the designated area, aimlessly taking shots whenever she felt it was worth it. She had her bag with other lenses that she would switch occasionally. She got lost.

Yoongi was despairing. He couldn't help it. He wasn't even listening to the argument anymore. He was focused on the feeling, on the internal drum. He was panicked that it was going to disappear in a heartbeat.

"There's nothing we can do! We can't prevent the fans from leaving the venue, we can't force them to leave one by one. Not to mention that just touching the subject would immediately destroy any option of privacy for Yoongi or his soulmate." Sejin was being reasonable, everyone knew that. But one glance at Yoongi's face said it all. It was not enough.

Namjoon kept arguing, but Yoongi turned around to face the mirror, closing his eyes. He felt someone behind him.

"Do you still feel it?" Jungkook’s kind voice asked.

He nodded with his heart tight in his chest. He did feel it, he felt it better now, if that made sense. It was called a pull for a reason. He felt pulled, compelled to move, to go somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know if it worked and it was probably not safe for him to leave that room. But he felt it as though he was a compass with an arrow juggling around. No one was going to find her but him. And he absolutely couldn't lose her.

He opened his eyes and confidently walked out, not paying attention to anyone. He didn't notice his brothers calling or manager Sejin telling them to let him go. The venue was nearly empty, maybe one-fourth of the fans were still around. He still felt her, so maybe they had a chance.

He walked to the higher levels completely on a gut feeling. He hadn't even changed outfits or showered yet, he was straight out of the stage with a gray hoodie and black tight pants. He had a black headband over his hairline that kept his short dark brown hair from falling down his eyes and the sweat from dripping. None of it mattered though, he didn’t have time to look presentable, he needed to find her.

When he reached the higher level, he wasn't even afraid to meet fans, the thought didn’t occur to him. He just stumbled, numb. He could barely feel it anymore, it was like a pulled elastic at the end. It was still there, and so was she. Yet, for a second his chest filled with anguish and it physically hurt. He had no sense of direction anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. He was failing and it was useless, he had no idea of what to do.

People were starting to mumble around him and he was brought back to reality. He needed an escape, to hide the repressed feelings that were starting to make his chest hurt. There was a door in front of him. He entered the room, slamming the door behind him.

Freya was walking aimlessly, completely lost. There weren't that many people around and she wasn't really interested in taking pictures anymore. The moment had passed. She hoped to catch the band leaving, knowing that was the kind of shot her magazine could appreciate for the online version of the article.

The more she kept going, the more sure she became that she was going the wrong way. She was effectively ignoring her surroundings and just going. The crew was going in the opposite direction, the fangirls and security too. She tried convincing herself that was totally normal. It was totally her own will taking her somewhere in order to snap more pictures. It was not that gut-wrenching pull telling her she had to be somewhere.

She was walking down a corridor when she suddenly froze. Her body was burning up, her heart racing out of control, but her gut clearly knew that was it. No need to go further. She was deaf at that point, the bond so strong it was a deafening physical energy current around her pushing her in only one direction: the door in front of her.

Everything else was muffled and unimportant. Yet from the outside of the door, she could already feel she shouldn’t open it. The force was so strong it was numbing. Her hand hovered over the door knob and she wondered how it wasn't vibrating with the resonance of such a powerful pull. She wanted to fight it with all of her strength, and her hand trembled. It would change her life forever if she opened that door. She didn't want that to happen.

But she wasn't strong enough, it was just so much stronger than her. She succumbed to it, fatefully so. She grabbed the doorknob and tried to rationalize it. It couldn’t hurt to see him at least once, or at least to tell him she wasn't and wasn't ever going to be interested. Yeah, that's it. That was why she had to get in there. It wasn't that person's fault and she should at least tell him that.

She entered the room quickly, a small meeting room, and closed the door without turning. Inside, the pull became like a magnetic field, all around them like walls, instead of a single string. She turned slowly around and saw a man standing behind the center table, having risen from his chair, staring at her in shock. He was different than she expected, though she expected nothing. He looked tired, that was her first thought. Why was he so tired? His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and falling over his headband. His eyes were smaller than she would expect, and darker. His skin was so pale she wondered if it was porcelain; was that makeup? He was her height it would seem, though bulkier than her. That hoodie did not give much away, but he looked comfortable. She was somewhat happy he was comfortable, despite his tiredness.

Her eyes were glued to him like nothing else existed because nothing else did. She was walking slowly in his direction, completely unaware. She had heard of the trance but she never thought it would be that strong. Her body moved on its own, her mind clouded as if she was high on drugs. She was such a strong-willed person, and yet it seemed all her convictions evaporated. Her legs were jello and would only move in his direction. She argued that it was only physical, her mind was still alert. Yet they were a step away from each other when she recognized her own lie. Her mind was as interested as her body, especially because she recognized him. But from where?

They shouldn't have touched, she thought. As soon as their hands did there was no denying it. There was no reasoning that could explain what was happening, except soulmating. Her chest filled with cheer bliss while her whole body warmed up like crazy as if she was a firework ready to pop in a million colors. And it was strange to recognize the same sort of emotion in such foreign eyes, in a stranger's face. She felt endeared by that face, propelled to care for that person with the clear consciousness that she did not know him. And her heart, or should she say soul, was at peace with it.

She struggled with that thought. First, because she thought they would instantly love each other blindly or something, and she didn’t want that to happen. Second, because it confirmed her own theories that soulbonding would erase her sense of self, her autonomy, and her individuality. She would be damned if she’d ever let any of that happen.

She knew nothing would ever feel the same or compare to him. However, knowing it in theory or feeling it in practice were very different things. Every particle of her body and soul agreed that was it, her other half, and no other person, relationship or bond would ever replace it. She looked at her hands in his and she had to close her eyes for a second to control her emotions. The urge to hug him was making her toes curl.

“What’s your name?”

Her eyes jumped to him and widened. She knew him, she heard his voice a lot tonight. She pictured him without the headband in a pretty black suit and she gasped. He was one of the guys from the band! She was completely shaken to her core; how was that possible?! Weren’t they from the other side of the world?

Then she shook her head, but of course he was. He didn’t live in Berlin, or else they’d have met before. He only happened to come to Berlin, and she only happened to be invited to work that piece last minute. Lidia would call it fate.

“What’s your name?”

His voice gave her goosebumps. He was saying it in English, not German, but she was totally fine with it. Despite the slight demand from his voice, he was using a loving tone. A soft caress to her ears meant to not trouble her. But she was troubled, deeply. She fought to keep her mouth shut, clenching her teeth and looking away. She saw his chest heave to take in a breath before insisting on knowing her name and she panicked. She couldn’t deny him if he kept asking, her soul wouldn’t allow it. So she kissed him.

She censored herself for a millisecond before their lips touched. Kissing him went against everything she stood for. First and foremost, because she was invading his privacy, his personal space. She was attacking him, sexually assaulting him for fuck’s sake. Soulmate or not, that couldn’t be taken lightly. Second, because it was disrespectful as a whole to kiss someone without knowing if they consented. What if he had a girlfriend or was married? Third, because she wanted to keep her distance from her soulmate. They were never supposed to have met, let alone touch or kiss. She wanted to leave, run away, and never look back. No matter the pain it would cause them both. That was too selfish of her and the more they dove in, the more she would hurt him, wound him. His soul, the other part of her. He was an unlucky bastard to be fated to be her other half.

Despite the flawless logic in all of those thoughts, she couldn’t stop her lips and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised for a second, before supporting her waist with his hands carefully while she grabbed his head in place. For someone who wanted to run away as soon as possible, she sure was keeping him firmly in her grip.

She forced him to walk back until he was against the wall. She did so because now he had nowhere to go, she could press her body against him. She felt absolute ecstasy running through her blood. She could not stop kissing him. She could not be stopped. She vaguely thought the only way would be for him to ask it, and she doubted he ever would.

His hands stayed respectfully at her waist, frustratingly so. It was infuriating in a way how he seemed to be more in control than she was when she was the one who didn’t want this to happen. She should be outraged that they were kissing without her consent. She didn’t have the mind space to think about that though, she would reflect on being a hypocrite later.

For now, his lips tasted like heaven. She was going into all the corny tropes because they fit exactly how she felt. She was riding the wave of a rush and it was divine. She had never been high on LSD or cocaine, but she imagined it came close to that. Her tongue had no problems invading his mouth, provoking hot waves of pleasure to reverberate through her whole body. The way he just accepted it, as if giving her the full reins of it, stupidly turned her on, egged her on. He was the only one who could stop her, why didn’t he?

She fought hard to stop their makeout session and pulled away, panting uncontrollably. She was eating him alive. So much for saying ‘goodbye, let’s never see each other again’.

“You… What's your name?”

Their faces were still glued together, his arms around her. She pushed herself away and turned to the side, covering her mouth with her right hand. Somehow, pulling away from him exhausted her. She felt like even gravity was against her. She stayed like that, panting at a short but safe distance, looking at him.

After a moment of silence, he walked to a chair and sat down. The corners of his lips were raised in a small smile, he looked calm. He had all the time in the world, it seemed. Well, she didn't, she had other things to do. Like running away and never look back. Stupid soulbond was too heavy, her legs were stomped.

He pointed at the chair across from him, on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

She wanted to scream. He was being so gentle, so condescending. Was she an idiot that couldn't keep herself away? Y- No. She wasn't a fangirl. She was a hard-working adult. An award-winning photojournalist. She was in control. Mostly. She couldn't even look away from him, that empty chair had nothing on him.

She tried calming herself down. She took her camera strip out of her neck, letting the camera sit on the table, and then she also dropped her lens bag on the floor next to it. Her breathing was stabilizing and she swallowed dryly. He was patiently waiting for her. He looked like a mythological God observing her, a mere mortal, to cope with his presence. And she had all the intentions of kneeling and begging for whatever mercy he could give.

She scoffed and pulled her copper hair back, out of her face. It was good. That soulmate thing… It was strong. She never thought it would get to that point. She knew when to admit defeat. And that was certainly, still, not the time to.

She took a step forward, convinced that she was in control. She was going to put her hand on his shoulder and say, ‘I’m sorry it had to be me. I’m not interested. Let’s forget this ever happened.'

Her hand actually hovered over his shoulder for a moment, when her blue eyes deviated to the exposed skin of his neck. Her hand trembled while she struggled between her wills, visceral thoughts opposing one another. He must have seen her inner battle because he extended his hand and guided hers to his shoulder calmingly. It tipped the scales.

Her hormones, body, whatever it was took control. What she wanted beyond him didn’t matter, no one beyond him mattered. She felt like everything in life was secondary, a faded background, dim against his brightness. There was only one thing she wanted.

Her leg heaved to the other side of him and she sat on top of his legs. He seemed to be expecting her lips when she leaned forward to greet him. His hands went to rest carefully by her waist while hers kept by his neck. He was taking her kisses fully, meeting her passion without ever imposing. But she was hungry. She started grinding herself against him and as soon as she could feel his hard-on clearly through his pants and her shorts, she just couldn’t stop anymore.

Her mind became foggy and nothing else but their pleasure meant anything. There was something at the end of the rainbow and she wanted it. Not want, want. Like the need to breathe. He grunted and parted their lips, trying to look around, at them, at her.

She got up with a weird sense of ease. She unbuttoned her shorts without ever dropping her eyes from him. His, however, accompanied the fabric’s descent down her naked legs. She pulled her panties down in the same motion and he seemed to understand. His expression was now serious, as she imagined hers. She wanted it, like oxygen. Like daylight. He could stop it though. One word and her world would crumble.

He extended his right hand for her to take. She took it and got closer. He meant to get up, but she stopped him. She unbuttoned his pants herself while her heart drummed in her chest. It wasn’t even about what he was going to look like or anything of the sort. She just had to feel him.

She got on his lap and immediately pulled his erection out. It was hard and shiny, extending proudly upwards. Their eyes met and no words were spoken. His hands were on her hips and she just did what she was supposed to. She sat down.

It had never felt that way before. She was never the most sexual person, but it was not supposed to feel like that. If she had a will, it vanished then. Her completeness could not be described. It was like an explosion of color, like a gust of wind, like the stars on the black pane of the universe. She was a boat looking to anchor, he was the nest she came to sleep in.

Once the cosmic waves were done resonating in her nerves, she opened her eyes, aware. It was like seeing everything blurry and then putting on glasses. She understood. She could barely think, but she knew she understood. And looking at his eyes, she knew he did too. His arms raised around her in a tight embrace to keep her close while her hips started rolling. She felt embraced, and accepted, like a promise was being made. Their bodies were giving something to each other because that was the only way their souls could be one again. That pleasure making her skin stretch was the extent their souls would ever touch each other. That was sad in a way, making her feel anguish. Yet he kissed her chest, right over her heart, making her come to an almost full stop. He was promising. She started moving again. That promise would only be real if they committed. If their souls actually touched and joined.

She had never felt pleasure like that. She thought she would reach her orgasm very soon, but somehow there was more. Like an endless staircase to heaven. He grew impatient with kissing her shirt and forced it out. She gladly helped. His lips on her skin were everything, and she moaned through clenched teeth at the shock. His tongue darted out to feel her breasts, contouring her bra edges and sneaking in as much as he could. She was still going, jumping as low as possible so he could do it. She grew impatient and her hands reached her back to release the bra when he stopped her.

He grabbed her hands, “No, don’t stop.”

It was a catalyst, if there could be one. His hands groped her firmly everywhere while she got lost in the feeling of riding him. She was now moaning with every motion, so ready to reach him whenever he was.

He grunted from the back of his throat, “Fuck.”

She nodded approvingly and felt the instant he was ready. She forced his hands on her breasts to squeeze hard while she sat down strongly a few times, making him go so deep it nearly hurt.

Only it was pure bliss. She closed her eyes and all she could see was golden. Golden waves with particles of light. Her body trembled in spasms, her voice muted without breath. Her body felt like it was hovering in a breeze, floating. She could feel his hands, his body, inside and out. She felt warm and safe. Home.

It lasted maybe fifteen seconds. Then, the golden waves receded, the lights disappeared like stars in the morning sky, her body floated softly to the ground, and it was done. Her head fell over his shoulder and his hand came to rest on her hair. They were both panting. They promised, it was done. She was hugging him as tightly as she could. She was scared to open her eyes.

You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜

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jjungkookislife · 3 years ago

Text

Crybaby [Ch.4]

pairing: namjoon x f. reader

genre: f2l, fluff, angst [18+]

wc: 8.5k

warnings: cursing, oc gets babied a lot!, oc cries a lot!, alcohol use/mentions, anxiety, oc is self-conscious, self-deprecating thoughts

date: April 16, 2022

A few days later, you find yourself on Jungkook’s couch, curled up to his side while Yoongi wraps his arms around both of you despite lying behind Jungkook. Sometimes you felt bad intruding on their couple's time, but both men had assured you that you were more than welcome to join them whenever you wanted to.

You were thankful for them. You’re not sure what you’d do without either of them and you didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m sorry about before,” you apologize, your fingers lacing with Jungkook’s. He squeezes your hand.

“Hush, there’s no need for that. We can talk about it if you’d like, but we won’t force you to. We were just worried about you…” Yoongi says as his hand laces with yours on the other side of Jungkook.

“Is Namjoon home?” you ask, moving your head off Jungkook’s shoulder to look at both of your friends.

“Nah,” Jungkook shakes his head, his black hair covering his eyes. He blows it away but all it does is ruffle it before Yoongi’s moving it out of his face.

“Thank you,” Jungkook chirps, cheeks tinted pink. “Namjoon went with Hoseok and Jin to some bar downtown. He won’t be home till late. You can talk freely.”

“I told him…” you say, trailing off as you rest your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. Yoongi looks down at him, the two exchanging a look, conversing silently.

“Told him?” Yoongi licks his lips as he quirks his head, hoping you’re both on the same page.

“Yeah, about me and how I am,” you explain briefly. “That’s why I was out of sorts that day.”

Jungkook suddenly has everything click in his mind, but why couldn’t you have just told him that on Sunday? Why did you have to run away from him and everyone else?

“That’s why you ran,” he sighs. “Did you want to tell him?”

“I mean, sort of?” you’re unsure. “It kind of just happened. I woke up from a nightmare and I ran into him. I don’t really know how it even came up. It’s all a blur,” you admit as you turn to look at your friends.

“What did he say?” Yoongi prods.

“He said wishing I was different was an injustice to myself and everyone who loves me,” you clear your throat, suddenly feeling awkward under their penetrating gaze.

“That’s true,” Jungkook nods in agreement. He knew his brother had a way with words and he knew he’d take care of you just like he did. After all, Namjoon was well aware that the both of you were (platonic) soulmates and he’d never do anything to destroy that bond the two of you shared. Namjoon knew how important you were to Jungkook, which is why it made it so hard to hide his feelings despite Jungkook’s meddling.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had to open myself up to someone new,” you continue, pushing Jungkook’s hoodie sleeve up to expose his tattoos. You traced the small heart on his hand absentmindedly, a habit of yours you developed to calm you down. Other days, when you were in a panic of sorts, Jungkook would take out some washable markers and allow you to color in the outlines of his tattoos.

“It’s challenging, no doubt. But Namjoon cares about you as the rest of us do,” Yoongi assures you. “We wouldn’t let just anyone in.”

Jungkook nods in agreement with his boyfriend. “I’d never let anyone hurt you, Baby. Not ever.”

“Thanks, Kookie. You too, Yoongs. I love you both so much. I’m sorry for worrying you and running off.”

“Ah, stop apologizing or I’m pushing you both off the couch!” Yoongi exclaims jokingly, sticking his tongue out at you. You turn to look at him, sticking your own tongue out in return.

“What did I do?” Jungkook huffs at his boyfriend, a fake scowl on his face.

“You’re her co-conspirator!” Yoongi exclaims, giving Jungkook a peck on the cheek. “Besides, you two are making my legs go numb.”

“Suck it up, buttercup,” You giggle, lying back on Jungkook’s chest.

“Yeah, suck it up, buttercup,” Jungkook repeats, chuckling when Yoongi rolls his eyes at the both of you.

“I don’t see why I always end up being the big spoon,” he grumbles. Jungkook pokes his side. "Do you wanna switch?”

“No, it’s easier to toss both of you off the couch from here,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Anyway,” Jungkook says, ignoring his boyfriend. “Have you talked to Namjoon? He didn’t mention that you’d told him.”

“He found me after I left. He took me out for ice cream and we talked some more. We’re friends now,” you smile brightly.

“Where did he take you?” Jungkook raises a brow, his tone suspicious.

“Nowhere special,” you lie, but Jungkook knows better. The human lie detector that he is, can spot it a mile away.

“Liar!” He calls you out immediately and you blanch.

“What? No!” you protest too quickly, voice a higher pitch.

“He took you to The Creamery, didn’t he?!” Jungkook asks, sure of himself as he sits up, tugging you onto his lap.

“Okay, okay! He did and it was delicious!” you smirk, ruffling his hair.

“What’s The Creamery?” Yoongi asked, puzzled.

“It was mine and Joon’s secret ice cream shop,” Jungkook grumbles, tickling your sides. You laugh, falling into him and Yoongi. “But I guess our Crybaby is in on it now.”

“Why am I not in on it?” Yoongi pouts.

“You will be. I don’t think Namjoon will mind,” Jungkook smiles, kissing Yoongi hastily before he’s pulling you off his lap. “We can even get Tae and Jimin to come.”

You grin, walking to the door to grab your purse off the coat rack. Yoongi stretches as he rises from the couch, popping his joints before he pats down his pockets to make sure he has his phone and wallet.

“I’ll drive,” Jungkook volunteers. Yoongi shrugs, not caring either way as he takes Jungkook’s car keys from the bowl on the entrance table.

“We’ll be in the car waiting,” Yoongi calls to him as Jungkook makes sure the stove is off and rummages around the living room for his wallet. Not that he needs it since Yoongi would offer to pay like always but he should at least have his license on hand.

Not too long after, Yoongi is sitting across from you and Jungkook, his ice cream cone in hand.

“I can’t believe you kept this a secret from me,” he moans as he licks his ice cream. His eyes flutter shut as the sweet treat sits on his tongue.

“I had to,” Jungkook laughs, his own ice cream sitting in a waffle bowl on the picnic table. He grins when he looks at you, “You know, Cherry Brown Cow is Joon’s favorite.”

“Oh? I didn’t know,” you fib. Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. Sure.

“Scoot over, Min,” Jimin huffs as he plants his butt down on the bench beside Yoongi.

“Where’s Tae?” You ask, looking over your shoulder but your friend is nowhere in sight.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “He’s still picking out a flavor. I didn’t want my ice cream to melt so I left him. He’s sampling all the flavors but I know he’s gonna end up getting vanilla, like always.”

You giggle, typical Tae.

“So I guess this isn’t our secret anymore, Kook?” Namjoon chuckles as he approaches the table.

Jungkook blushes, “Oops?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes playfully at his brother before taking a seat beside you.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you breathe, ignoring the rapid palpitations of your heart.

“Okay, what did I miss?” Taehyung asks as he scurries to the table with a cone. None of you are surprised to see it’s plain vanilla with a pinch of sprinkles. You gag, sprinkles were disgusting.

“What brings you here?” Yoongi inquires, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Jimin texted me asking for directions,” Namjoon shrugs. He’d made sure to get Hoseok and Jin home before coming out to join you. He wasn’t upset that his secret spot wasn’t a secret anymore, now he could share it with you and all his new friends.

Your friends easily fall into conversation with each other, and you manage to ignore the heat of Yoongi’s gaze as Namjoon leans in closer to talk to you.

“Do you want some? It’s your favorite,” you offer him your ice cream cone, and Namjoon hesitates for a second before leaning in and taking a small bite. He grins, thanking you. It makes butterflies swirl around in your stomach. Your heart thuds harshly in your chest. Heat rises to your cheeks as you murmur a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

The dimpled smile Namjoon gives you, sends your heart soaring to your throat, your mind going haywire as you blatantly stare at his grin. Has he always been this beautiful? His eyes so bright and filled with warmth? Has his aura always brought peace to those around him? Was it normal for you to feel uncharacteristically safe in his presence?

Namjoon quirks his head, bemused. Was something on his face? Or could you hear the rapid pounding of his heart? Could you tell he was nervous and his hands were growing sweaty despite resting on his jeans?

You look away, unable to hold his gaze much longer. He chuckles, resting his chin in his palm as he places his elbow on the table. He tunes in and out of everyone’s conversation, his eyes glued to your profile as you continue to eat your ice cream. He notices the way you purposely avoid his gaze, and he knows it’s out of being frazzled. Do you know you affect him the same way?

“So pretty,” he utters softly, barely audible but your hearing must be impeccable because you turn to face him, a softness to your gaze that overpowers the self-consciousness you typically feel around him.

“What?” you ask sheepishly, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly.

Namjoon is at a loss for words; barely able to breathe as your lashes flutter once, twice. Your gaze is curious and demure, there’s a hint of uncertainty that delves in the corners, but that just gives him more courage to restate his words with more confidence.

“You’re so pretty, Crybaby.” His words have your mind whirling with thoughts, but you’re incapable of wording any of them aloud. Is it normal to feel this way? Or does he have some sort of hold on your brain to render you incoherent with just his words?

Namjoon laughs gently. How is it possible for someone to be so cute? So adorable?

Without even registering, Namjoon’s fingers stroke your cheek delicately. He’s in awe of you, of your beauty, of your being. You always seem to have him under a spell when you’re near and he honestly doesn’t believe he wants to be set free. He’d gladly stare into your eyes forever, hold you in his arms until he took his last breath, treasure you in his heart until the very end.

Crybaby.

His Crybaby.

Jimin shares a look with Jungkook, the two seemingly communicating in silence about the two friends sitting on Jungkook’s left. Yoongi has no qualms about staring blatantly at the both of you; he wants his Baby to be safe and although he’s come to cherish Joon as a friend, you’re the baby of the group. He sees you as a little sister, and his (future) brother-in-law better be careful with your heart just like Yoongi is with Jungkook’s. He’s never really taken on the role of an older brother before, but you pulled that out of him naturally. He just wanted what was best for you but he knew better than to meddle… unlike his loving boyfriend who was scooting into your side to push you further into his brother. Subtle.

Understanding what had gone on between the two of you that night and how you're both acting now, filled in a lot of blanks for Yoongi. He never wanted to push you into speaking about anything you didn’t want to or weren’t ready to share; he knew from experience that pushing you to speak just backed you into a figurative wall and made you feel worse. Yoongi had made it his mission to build a safe, warm, trusting environment where you could share with him (and Jungkook) if—not when— the need arises.

“Quit staring,” Jimin grumbles as he raises his ice cream cone to his lips to hide them, but honestly, it’s not like you and Namjoon would even notice if he hadn’t. The both of you were in your own little world, so far from earth, it didn’t even matter.

“Not staring,” Yoongi shrugs, turning his gaze to his boyfriend, who’s smiling brightly. Yoongi knows it must be hard for him not to meddle more than he already has but to be fair, Jungkook’s never seen you like this with anyone. Not in a long, long time. And he was aware that he was getting ahead of himself, hearing wedding bells in his head as he imagined you as his sister-in-law.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi is cautious with the volume of his voice, his foot gently kicking at his boyfriend’s, hoping not to draw your attention. At this point, he doesn’t think a meteor would catch your attention or Namjoon’s for that matter, but there’s nothing wrong in trying to be discreet… unlike his loving partner who gawks at the two of you with hearts in his eyes. “You’re being too obvious, love.”

Jungkook finally rips his eyes off you, “I am not!”

“Shh,” Yoongi hisses, an eyebrow raised in your direction. “You’re gonna make them look over here.”

“Please, a T-Rex could stomp on our table and Namjoon would still manage to keep his eyes locked on her,” Jimin scoffs. Taehyung is oblivious to his surroundings, rising from his seat to go inside the shop for another cone.

Jimin’s words are true to an extent, though. Namjoon is still caressing your skin, his thumb swiping the corner of your lips where you had a bit of ice cream. He pops his thumb into his mouth, licking it clean as your eyes widen in surprise.

Namjoon chuckles, cheeks flushed pink as he scoots closer to you. You don’t even care about your ice cream anymore, some of it melting over the cone to meet your fingers.

“Finish your ice cream, Crybaby,” Namjoon instructs with a smirk as he grabs a napkin from the small pile in the center of the table. He cleans your hand as best as he can before he’s rising from the table to throw the used napkin into the trash can.

Jungkook nudges you with his elbow, wiggling his eyebrows at you before he’s kicked under the table by his boyfriend.

“What are we doing this weekend?” Taehyung asks as he rejoins the group with his cone in hand. This time he surprises you all when he has chocolate instead of vanilla. It was rare for your friend to deviate from his favorite flavor.

“We can head to that bar you went to if it’s good?” Jungkook leans forward to look at his brother as he takes the seat beside you once again. Namjoon blinked owlishly, taking a second to process what his brother’s said.

“Oh, sure. It was decent, even for a weeknight,” Namjoon shrugs.

“Would you wanna go, Baby?” Jimin asks you.

“Sounds fun. Especially if we all go,” you agree easily. It makes Taehyung eye you suspiciously but says nothing as he continues to eat his treat.

Jungkook asks his brother more about the bar they had gone to, wanting to know as many details as possible before he’s looking it up on his phone, exclaiming excitedly when he sees it’s near one of his favorite clubs.

You finish your ice cream whilst listening to your friends talk. Namjoon scooted in closer to you to better hear his brother and the plans for Saturday night. You flush with heat when you feel his thigh press against yours, your heart fluttering in your chest. You try to keep cool, not wanting to short circuit from the mere touch. Jimin notices though, a small smile tugging at his lips. As long as you were happy, he’d support whatever decision you made concerning Namjoon.

Namjoon is unaware of his effect on you as he leans closer, his body so close to yours you can smell the light scent of his cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be wrapped up in his arms and cuddling into him to smell him as long as possible. You find his scent soothing.

You involuntarily shiver from his proximity and he immediately notices. “Cold?”

You nod, unsure of what else to do. Namjoon smiles down at you warmly, easily taking his jean jacket off and draping it over your shoulders. You pull it closer to you by the sleeves, overwhelmed by his scent but comforted all the same. You quite like the feeling.

“I gotta get going,” Taehyung pouts. “I have work early tomorrow.”

“We’ll see you all this weekend though,” Jimin assures as he waits for Taehyung to slide out of the bench so he can get up without kicking the younger man.

“See ya!” Jungkook waves at them.

“Bye! Text me when you get home!” you call after them.

“We will!” They shout in unison.

“I hate when they do that,” you grumble, making your remaining friends laugh.

“Babe, don’t forget, we need to go to the store to get stuff for your lunch tomorrow,” Yoongi reminds Jungkook, who groans.

“Do you wanna come along, Crybaby?” Jungkook asks you as he gathers the trash from the table before rising from his seat.

“I should get home,” you say, muffling a yawn poorly.

“I can take you home,” Namjoon volunteers, his ears burning red when his brother and Yoongi give him a look. “I-if you want.”

Jungkook walks to throw the trash as Yoongi rounds the table, his hand lacing with Kook’s, “Whichever is fine with us, Crybaby. We don’t mind.”

You freeze, looking at the three men. You hated being put on the spot like this! Making decisions made you shut down, and the last thing you wanted to do was hurt anyone’s feelings by not going with them.

Jungkook notices the panic in your eyes, quickly letting go of Yoongi to kneel beside you, his hands on your thighs.

“Look at me, Baby.” You do so, tears welling up in your eyes already. Jungkook’s heart aches at the sight. “Why don’t you let Namjoon take you home, and after work tomorrow, I’ll make you dinner? Does that sound good?”

A single tear rolls down your cheek as you swallow the knot that’s formed in your throat. The panic slowly unravels from your body as you find it easier to breathe once again. You nod, agreeing with Jungkook as he wipes away your tear. He smiles softly at you, his fingers tilting your chin up so you’ll look up at him.

“There’s our girl,” he says sweetly when you give him a ghost of a smile. “I love you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans in to press a kiss on your forehead, his arms wrapping around you to squeeze you tightly.

“I love you too,” you whisper, overwhelmed with love for your best friend. He squeezes you tighter until you wheeze before he laughs and releases you.

“My precious Crybaby. What I wouldn’t do to see you smile,” he says, kissing your cheek before giving his brother a stern look. “Get her home safe.”

Namjoon nods, swallowing thickly as Jungkook rises to his feet to walk to his boyfriend. He laces their hands together before they wave at the two of you, reminding you to text them when you get home safe.

After they’re gone, Namjoon rubs the nape of his neck sheepishly… had he overstepped? You were friends now, sure, but you hadn’t been alone since Sunday and he didn’t know if you were comfortable with him taking you home.

“Ready?” you find yourself asking, rising from the bench and slipping your arms into his jacket, pulling it close to your chest as you drape your cross body bag over your chest.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, clearing his throat as he curses himself out in his head for being a bumbling fool in front of you. “I’m over here.”

You walk beside him in silence, spotting his car not too far off. You enjoy the night chill as the wind ruffles your hair as you walk. Namjoon’s scent fills your nose as you pull the jacket tighter, inhaling profoundly.

“Do you remember how to get to my house?” you ask once you’re in his car, seatbelt strapped snuggly over your chest as Namjoon pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road. His phone is in your hands as you look through his playlist, surprised he’s updated it since you were last in his car. You can see some of your favorite songs have been added, and it makes your heart flip in your chest.

“Yes, I do. My sense of direction isn’t the best but I promise to get you home safe,” he assures you, smiling at you as you play a song.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you giggle before singing along. Namjoon likes your voice, albeit you’re a tad off-key, he doesn’t care. He’s glad you can feel relaxed around him, comfortable enough to sing in front of him and just be yourself, even if he can feel a tidbit of resistance. He won’t rush you, won’t pressure you to break down your walls for him until you’re ready to let him fully in.

“See, I told you I’d get you home safe!” Namjoon cheers as he pulls into your driveway, parking the car.

“Okay, but I only doubted you a little,” you tease, a smile tugging at your lips. It makes Namjoon’s heart skip a beat.

“That’s… fair,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Thanks for getting me home,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt. Namjoon waves you off, “It’s no problem, Baby. I wanna make sure you’re always safe.”

“I appreciate it, Joonie.” You bite your lip, you really didn’t want your time with him to end, but you had to be up early tomorrow for work. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Of course!” Namjoon nods.

You open the door, turning to look at him and leaning in to kiss his cheek before you have time to psych yourself out. “Thanks again, Joonie!”

Namjoon is star-struck, dumbly nodding as you giggle, shutting the car door and skipping up to your front door. He places his hand on his cheek, and he swears he can still feel your lips on his skin. You wave once you unlock and open your front door, shouting “bye!”

Namjoon manages to wave, unable to breathe for a second as he sees your door shut. You’d kissed him. His cheeks flush with heat, a dimpled smile appearing on his lips. Sweet Crybaby.

“Crybaby!” Jimin throws himself on you, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smile, hugging him back as he squeezes you tightly before letting you go.

“You look amazing!” he whistles as he eyes you up and down. You smile bashfully. “You think so?”

Jimin nods, motioning for you to spin. You do so, feeling his gaze and a few others as Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin appear in the living room.

“Well fuck,” Hoseok blurts, a bright grin illuminating his face. “You look wonderful, Crybaby.”

“It’s not too much?” Your wavering voice doesn’t go unnoticed and it’s Jin who shakes his head. “No, you look beautiful. And wow! Your dress has pockets!”

You nod excitedly, putting your hands in your pockets and spinning around once again, a giant smile on your face. Crisis averted.

“How many phones can you fit in the pockets?” Taehyung asks curiously as he stuffs his phone in one pocket before Hoseok, Seokjin, and Jimin are stuffing their phones in the other pocket. Yoongi appears, shaking his head as he sees you stuffed to the brim with phones before Hoseok eggs him on to add his. Reluctantly he does so, surprised to see it fits. However, he thinks you’re at your limit, so he removes his phone before it has a chance to clatter on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook questions as he pops in from the kitchen, a drink in hand.

“They’re stuffing her with phones,” Yoongi replies coolly.

“Please, don’t act like you weren’t a part of it,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. Yoongi smiles sheepishly, “So what if I was?”

“At least you won’t lose your phone tonight,” Seokjin chuckles, taking his phone from your pocket and then Hoseok’s.

“Let’s go drink,” Jimin says, taking his phone from your pocket. He kisses your cheek before he goes to the kitchen followed by Jungkook, Yoongi, and Seokjin. Hoseok excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Taehyung wraps his arms around you. “I’ve missed you, Baby. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“You saw me the other night for ice cream,” you remind him. He chuckles, his chest shaking against yours. “You’re right. We need to hang out soon. You’re the only one who will listen to jazz with me and there’s a new club opening up soon. Will you go with me? Pretty please?”

You can’t resist his adorable smile or the way he bats his lashes, and when you smile softly, he knows he’s got you.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! You’re the best, Crybaby! We’ll get dinner beforehand and we’ll make a night out of it!” Taehyung is nearly bouncing with excitement, twirling his arms around in a circle before Jimin is hollering for him to come to the kitchen.

Jungkook calls for you right after, asking what’s taking the both of you so long. You start to follow Taehyung, but Namjoon comes out of his room, adjusting his shirt. You can’t help but stare at the way his biceps nearly bulge out of the seams, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile you hope is only for you. It makes your insides warm, and you hope you don’t stutter.

“Hi!” you chirp, overly excited, immediately reprimanding yourself internally for it. “Hi.”

“Are you excited for tonight? You look beautiful,” he compliments genuinely and your heart is skyrocketing to the moon, bursting and dispersing among the stars.

“I-yeah. Thank you, Joonie!” you break eye contact, feeling hot all of a sudden.

“Crybaby! What’s holding you up?” Hoseok calls, peeking into the hall. He whistles, wiggling his brows as he goes back into the kitchen. You laugh, rolling your eyes as you head toward the kitchen.

“Finally, Baby.” Jungkook hands you a drink, your favorite. You thank him as you lean against the counter. Namjoon enters soon after, greeting his friends before Jimin is handing him a drink. He murmurs thanks, leaning against the island, his eyes on you.

You try to listen to the conversation around you, but all you can zero on is Namjoon. Even if he turns slightly to join in on a conversation, it’s not long until his eyes are meeting yours again, your heart thundering in your chest. It causes you to chug your drink, setting the cup down before Jimin’s got another ready for you. How he drinks alcohol like water, you’re not sure but you’re glad he’s got another drink ready for you. If nothing else it gives you a distraction from Namjoon and how heavenly he looks tonight with his forehead on display, a rare occurrence. A delightful occurrence.

“Are you going to save a dance for me, Crybaby?” Hoseok smirks, wiggling his hips. You laugh, shaking your head. “You know I don’t dance much.”

“I don’t know why, Baby. You’re good at it,” he assures you. Jimin nods in agreement, but you shake your head. “Not really.”

Hoseok doesn’t push, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “If you change your mind, you come and find us, okay?”

“Sure,” you fib, sipping your drink.

After the third round of drinks, Yoongi deems everyone tipsy enough to head out. Rides are ordered and you’re paired off into groups. Jimin, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Seokjin in one car. You, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Namjoon in another. Namjoon grabs his jean jacket that you’ve hooked on the coat rack upon your arrival, shrugging it on. He can smell your scent on it, and he realizes he quite likes how it meshes well with his. He’s not entirely sure why his heart somersaults in his chest…

Unfortunately for him, he’s made to sit up front. You’re tucked in the backseat between Yoongi and Jungkook, both men’s thighs pressed against yours. You idly play with the black material of your fishnets as Jungkook rambles excitedly about the new drink he’s wanting to try.

Namjoon looks over his shoulder at a light, he catches you already looking at him. You squeak with the embarrassment of having been caught. Namjoon chuckles, turning to face forward once again. He hopes someday you can feel a hundred percent comfortable with him.

“Finally,” Jungkook groans as he gets out of the car. He extends his hand for you as Namjoon appears behind him. His eyes roam over to your legs as they get out of the car, the fishnets you’re wearing making him gulp. He’d refrained from staring too long in his home, but now that his alcohol-addled brain was in control, he found it insanely hard.

“She’s got eyes,” Yoongi grunts as he rounds the car.

Namjoon wonders if an asteroid can take him out if he wills it hard enough.

Luckily, you don’t hear Yoongi, too busy watching your step as Jungkook laces his hand with yours as Seokjin strolls up toward your group, followed by the others.

You easily get into the building, heading straight for the bar. Taehyung gets you a barstool immediately, helping you onto it before Yoongi opens up a tab for you, Jungkook, himself, and Namjoon.

“We’ll have some drinks here and see if it’s worth the hype. If not, we can go next door,” Jungkook assures you as he orders a drink for you.

The music is loud, you can barely hear yourself think. It’s decently crowded, but it’s still considered a little early to be out. You’re not surprised when half your friend group disappears into the crowd, all eager to mingle and have a good time.

Usually, they’d take turns staying with you at the bar, but Jungkook had promised to be at your side for the night. However, you urge him to go dance with Yoongi as Namjoon stands beside you.

Jungkook sends a look to his brother, silently communicating before Jungkook gives in. He takes his drink and Yoongi’s hand to head to the dance floor.

“Thank you for staying with me,” you shout into Namjoon’s ear.

“Don’t mention it, Crybaby.” He grins, his fingers brushing your cheek. You smile, leaning into his touch in the slightest.

Namjoon falls into conversation easily as you finish your drink. He has you drink some water in between, which you do to clear your mind a little bit. Some of your friends have stopped by for a quick chat, but have ultimately disappeared in the sea of bodies moving on the dance floor.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s a text from Jungkook in the group chat, wanting to round up the herd so you can pop in next door.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you shout over the music. Namjoon nods, helping you out of the barstool. “I’ll walk you. There are too many people here.”

You nod as he takes your hand in his. You can’t keep yourself from squeezing it. It fits so perfectly in yours. You admire the way his arm muscles look under the strobe lights as he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s so strong, you think as you clear through the crowd with ease.

“I’ll wait here,” he tells you as you reluctantly let go of his hand.

You’re quick to use the bathroom after standing in line for a few minutes. You’re happy to see Joon is right where he said he’d be.

“I’m back,” you chirp.

He takes your hand once again, your heart melting into a puddle. Why does holding his hand feel so right?

“This is so much better,” Seokjin says as he fans himself. Hoseok agrees, pinching his shirt to fan his chest.

Jungkook had called ahead, reserving a booth for you on the second floor. You were thankful to be able to sit down once again. You’d been to this club before, and you knew eventually you’d end up on the dance floor with Jimin or Jungkook, whichever gave you the best puppy-dog eyes.

Another drink appears in front of you, and you take it gratefully. Namjoon is still at your side, and you’re all taking a few moments to regroup. Hoseok brought along someone he met at the bar next door, easily falling into conversation with her while Seokjin conversed with her friend. The four rise from their seats, heading to the dance floor.

Jimin and Taehyung have sat beside you, talking animatedly as they sip their drinks, both eager to get back out on the dance floor.

Jimin turns to face you, his hand resting on your thigh to get your attention. “Do you wanna dance, Crybaby?”

“Sure,” you answer, surprising him. He doesn’t give you a chance to change your mind before he pulls you up with him, grabbing Taehyung with his free hand. You have a split second to grab Namjoon, startling him as he’s pulled out of the seat to join you.

Jimin holds your hand tightly as Taehyung clears a path for the four of you on the dance floor, his broad shoulders making it easy to get through the sea of sweaty bodies.

Anxiety immediately bubbles in your stomach when you come to a stop. Jimin squeezes your hand, offering a gentle smile, “It’s just us. Nobody else is looking.”

You swallow thickly, nodding as Jimin begins moving to the beat easily with Taehyung. Your hand is still in his as he spins you around to face Namjoon.

You gasp, stomach tied in knots as you meet his gaze. He offers you a soft smile, his dimples becoming prominent and your heart flutters shamelessly in your chest.

Your hands reach out for him, giggling when he comes to you easily. He’s just as flustered as you, but seeing you smiling and eager to have fun is all he needs for him to relax and fall into step beside you.

Jimin smirks, releasing your hand as he steps away from you to give you and Namjoon room to dance. Taehyung watches the two of you curiously, curls bouncing as he dances with Jimin.

“What do you think?” Jungkook asks his boyfriend as the two look over the dance floor, spotting you and Namjoon rather easily.

“I think you need to let them figure it out on their own,” Yoongi chuckles, wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s waist.

“You’d think so, huh?” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I just want them to be happy. It’s easy to see they care for each other.”

“It’s not our place. We’re not matchmakers, Kook.”

“You’re right,” Jungkook sighs, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before turning to his boyfriend. “No more meddling. I promise.”

Yoongi smiles, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple, “I’ll hold you to it.”

Dancing with Namjoon was a different experience than with any of your other friends. For one, he kept his distance, which you appreciated. He knew better than to push your boundaries, but that also meant his gaze was on your face instead of the back of your head. You were used to being sandwiched between your friends, hands on your waist, and their chest pressed to yours or your back. You didn’t have to worry about looking them in the eye when you danced, which allowed you to dance freely, without judgment and anxiety over your moves.

The rapid beating of your heart rivaled the loud rush of blood in your ears. Why was it so loud?

Namjoon knows he shouldn't stare at you. He can’t help it though, you look so cute swaying to the music, avoiding his gaze at all costs. He tries his best to look away, but any time he does, he unwillingly catches the gaze of someone else… which makes him panic at the thought of someone cutting in between you and him. He wants to stay at your side, that was the sole reason he’d agreed to come out. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you… or the kiss. It had been such a long week for him. He had ended up counting down the seconds until he saw you again, and you did not disappoint.

“Are you okay?!” Namjoon shouts over the music. You nod in response, moving closer as the crowd pushes. Jimin is still nearby with Tae, but now they’re chatting with a few people, easily distracted by the chance to socialize. However, Jimin keeps an eye on you from his spot, not wanting you to think he’s left you on your own.

“Yeah,” you answer but Namjoon knows you’re lying. He moves closer to you, his hands cupping your face and you meet his eyes. They’re beautiful. They’re so dark, they’re almost black but you know better. You know they look like pools of sweet melted milk chocolate on a summer’s day when the sun hits them just right. You know they hold love, friendliness, compassion, and trust in those gorgeous eyes. Maybe that’s why your racing heart slows into its normal rhythm after a moment. His touch is delicate, handling you as if you were fragile, one of a kind. And he supposes that you are. Cliche as it sounds, nobody has aroused these feelings in him in such a long time. He’s at a loss just like you.

Namjoon’s tongue peeks between his lips, swiping along the bottom one to moisten it before doing the same to the top. You’re in awe of him. How can his touch have this effect on you? You wish you were anywhere else but here. You wanted to be alone with him, to have him hold you until you felt safe once again. Can he read the panic in your eyes? Has he bypassed all the obstacles to your heart?

“Focus on me, baby,” he instructs, his gaze darker but the softness somehow remains. You gasp when you realize the only time he’s had that look in his eyes is when he looks at you.

Namjoon smiles warmly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin. You’re under his spell. You’re in too deep… and you don’t care. You wanna fall deeper. Headfirst into the ocean of mystery and wonder that is Kim Namjoon.

“Crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You melt against him, whining when he pulls away. “Spin.”

It takes a second for you to comprehend what he’s said before he’s taking your hand and spinning you once, twice. A giggle escapes you, a wide grin appearing on your lips.

Crisis averted… for now.

“Joonie!” You squeal with laughter, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You take two steps forward, wrapping your arms around Namjoon’s neck to pull him into a hug. It’s short, but it leaves you breathless.

The pounding of the music becomes background noise as you dance with Namjoon. Your worries are pushed aside as he keeps your body moving along to the beat until you find yourself in between him and Jimin with Tae behind Jimin.

Your back is pressed against Namjoon’s. His hands rest at your waist, while Jimin’s are on your hips, pulling you into him. You’re familiar with his moves, easily keeping up as you let the music take over, forgetting all your worries when you’re in Jimin’s hands.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach, your head no longer addled from its alcoholic haze.

Everything is too much! You’re hot, you’re feeling claustrophobic, and you can’t take the stickiness of dried sweat on your skin.

“Joon,” you say his name in a tone that drives panic to his very core. You lick your lips, fanning your face and he’s taking your hand, ceasing his movements and yours.

Namjoon is grateful for his large body, easily pushing people out of his way with small apologetic smiles. Nobody bats an eye as you follow after him until you’re safely wrapped up in him.

“Let’s get you a water and head outside, okay?” He asks, getting the bartender’s attention. He gets you a glass of water and you chug it before setting it on the counter. Namjoon takes your hand and your heart flutters in your chest before becoming overwhelmed by the crowds.

“Just focus on me, Crybaby,” Namjoon says softly, his hand cupping your face gently.

“Okay,” you nod, inhaling profoundly as you squeeze his hand. Namjoon pushes the crowd of dancing bodies with more force as he tugs you along the path he’s creating, ignoring the glares and curses he receives. It takes a few minutes to get to the exit but once the two of you step outside, you instantly relax.

The bouncer gives the two of you a look but Namjoon assures him you’re fine. You nod in agreement before following Joon a little ways from the entrance.

There’s a thick silence between you, more so on your part than his. Your heart is still racing from the adrenaline, and your lungs don’t quite expand like they’re supposed to. Namjoon steps in front of you, offering you his hands to hold, to cement yourself to reality in fear that you’ll lose yourself to the dark thoughts that linger on the edge of your mind. You’re grateful and even in the chill of the night, your breaths come stuttered but Namjoon says nothing, only offers comfort.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing you chose to say once your initial panic wears off. Namjoon immediately goes to wave off the apology but you shake your head. It’s easier for you to apologize than to be waved off and even if sometimes you apologize for things that don’t require it, Namjoon will learn your ways.

“I didn’t mean to pull you away from the fun,” you lick your dry lips, avoiding his gaze. “You can go back inside. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t wanna go back inside,” Namjoon shrugs but he’s being honest. He has no intention of leaving you, much less to be crowded in like a sardine.

You click your tongue but don’t respond. After all, you’re only in charge of yourself and he’s only in charge of himself. You look down the street, groups of friends and lovers walking hand in hand, talking animatedly as they go from bar to bar and you almost wish it were that easy for you to just let go. But it’s not, and you need to be rescued from your surroundings time and time again; a burden to your friends.

“Stop that,” Namjoon says firmly as he takes your face in your hands and sees the cloudiness in your eyes. You exhale but it makes you shiver as you keep your tears at bay. Your throat aches with the strain of unshed tears and you curse yourself again for putting him in this predicament.

You go to apologize but Namjoon just hugs you. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, his large hand cradling your head as he assures you that you’re safe and that he (nor any of your friends) wish you were any different. They love you for you, even if you cry a little more than most.

You chuckle wetly, sighing heavily as Joon eases up on your hold and the fluttering of your heart just makes this moment all that more important.

“You know, you’re almost as spooky as Jungkook,” you sniffle, wiping at your eyes.

“How so?” Namjoon asks as his hands settle on your shoulder, holding you to his side.

“You’re almost spot on at reading me, though I’m sure my crying gives it away.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having emotions,” Namjoon offers but you shake your head.

“There is when they’re as amplified as mine.”

Namjoon clicks his tongue. “I said what I said.”

Your thoughts wander for a moment. The night breeze ruffles your hair and rattles your bones. Namjoon watches you intently, and he realizes it’s something he’s been doing a lot lately; studying you. It’s no wonder he’s gotten such a good read on you but he doubts he’d be like his brother any time soon. The two of you were like two peas in a pod; almost like twins. Jungkook had mastered the art of you and Namjoon could only hope one day to catch up.

“I feel the safest with you seven.” You break the silence, a faraway look in your eye as you try to dissociate, but Joon’s presence is too hard to ignore. “When I’m in that canopy of safety, I feel unstoppable. Being around so many people rattles me to my core and it makes me freeze. I tend to run, but you knew that already.”

Namjoon nods, stepping beside you, “do you wanna go home?”

“I can’t leave them all in there. They’ll wonder where I’ve gone and I’ll make them feel like that day…” you trail off, turning to look at the entrance. You can already feel your phone buzzing in your pocket from calls and texts of your concerned friends who have noticed your disappearance. You probably have two minutes before they storm out in a pile on the sidewalk.

Namjoon looks down at his phone, and sure enough, his brother’s name lights up the screen.

“Your comfort and safety matter to me, to us, above everything else. They’ll understand. We can go home right now and nobody would be upset with you. That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?” What talent he has to hit the nail on the head, maybe his studying has paid off.

You nod, swallowing thickly as the familiar burn in your throat makes itself known. Namjoon takes a moment to text his brother back, assuring him that you’re safe but overwhelmed. He’ll be taking you home and despite Jungkook offering to leave with your friends in order to offer comfort, Namjoon insists it’s best not to overwhelm you. Jungkook gives in, promising to leave soon after.

“Come, Baby. Let’s get you home.” Namjoon reaches out his hand for you to take and you do so easily as he leads you to a taxi. He opens the door for you, waiting until you’re buckled in before he slides in after you.

Namjoon rattles off his address to the driver, and it’s not too long before he’s getting out, linking his hand with yours to lead you to the front door.

When he unlocks the door, he helps you out of your shoes, helping you to the kitchen, where he has you sip on a bottle of water. Under the bright fluorescent lights, he can see how red and puffy your eyes have gotten. His heart aches as he sees you, but he knows it’s what you're used to. He offers some painkillers for the aches and then sends you off to the bathroom.

When you join him, he’s set out a change of clothes for you. A pair of sweatpants from Jungkook and one of his sweaters. You thank him as you get back in the bathroom, running the shower to get the smell of smoke out of your hair, something you cannot stand.

“You can sleep on my bed,” Namjoon states when you walk back into his bedroom. You sit on his bed when he goes to shower.

He’s not surprised you haven’t moved an inch since he’s been gone. Namjoon decides to sit beside you anyway.

It takes you longer than you care to admit to finally speak. What is it about Namjoon that renders you speechless? Sure, you were still getting to know him and you had spent time alone with him but never to this degree. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means and you appreciate him sticking by your side when he could have easily dumped you off with Jimin and Taehyung or even Jungkook and Yoongi. The fact that he hadn’t, made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you offer him a small smile. He smiles in return, his dimples nearly make you swoon.

“No need to thank me, Baby. That’s what friends are for,” he says gently as he presses a kiss to your forehead. You flush over the feel of his soft lips on your skin.

You know there’s no convincing him of staying the night at your side, not wanting to cross any boundaries no matter how much you assure him you’re fine. He’s heard from Jungkook and his friends just how long it takes for you to get comfortable around newcomers and though he’s had small victories here and there, he knows better than to push his luck out of fear of making you uncomfortable.

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” You ask him meekly as you slowly pull the blanket over your body. Namjoon is grateful he’d done laundry that afternoon.

“Of course, Crybaby. I’d do anything for you,” Namjoon responds sincerely and he realizes how deep he’s in already… and yet, it doesn’t terrify him.

Under Namjoon’s watchful eye, you settle into his bed. He tucks you in, staying over the blanket so he can leave without rustling you. There are a few inches between you but Namjoon doesn’t mind, his fingers gently stroking your hair as you ask him for a childhood story about him and your best friend, looking for a distraction to clear your thoughts so you can get some sleep.

Namjoon is one to please, so he does as asked, listening to your breathy chuckles and sleepy giggles as he tells the story of how Jungkook lost his swim trunks going down a water slide ages ago.

You listen to Namjoon’s deep voice, following along with his story until you’re lulled to sleep, comforted by his voice and the scent of him that lingers on his sheets and the sweatshirt.

Namjoon stays until your breathing evens out, your eyes shut as you slip into dreamland. He strokes your cheek lightly, his knuckle barely grazing your skin.

Oh, what he wouldn’t do to ease your mind always, to give you the comfort you so greatly deserve. To kiss all your worries away and hold you when he can’t.

Oh, Crybaby, you don’t know what feelings you arouse in him.

<< previous // next >>

#bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #kim namjoon fanfic #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader insert #crybaby!reader #crybaby au

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abbatoirablaze · 2 years ago

Text

Girl At The Diner, Lee Bodecker

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: dark themes, attempted rape, mutilation, dark soulmate au, jealousy, Dark! Lee Bodecker

Lee watched you like a hawk. Every day since he’d first found out. He’d known you for years and had watched you grow from a teen to a brilliant young woman ready to take on the world. And sure, your parents had told him to stay away until you were old enough to understand it, but he didn’t mind waiting. Lee was a patient man if nothing else. He knew that you would be the only woman that he’d ever want and had no issue with respecting your parents wishes.

Lee first noticed the pull when he was seventeen and you were twelve. He immediately ran to your parents and asked for your hand in marriage, saying that when you did come of age, he would be there waiting…and until that point, he wanted everyone to know that you were already claimed by him; your soulmate.

Your parents thought it was cute. They’d only really known little Lee Bodecker as the neighborhood boy who looked after his whore of a mother, and the brother to their daughter’s best friend. They knew that he’d had good intentions and had dreams of working his way up through the police force after he graduated high school, and to one day become mayor.

But they’d asked him to be patient. To let you find out on your own…when you were seventeen and could make those decisions just like any other girl who was able to feel their soulmate’s pull. And when you felt the pull of your soulmate, they wouldn’t stand in his way.

And he’d agreed.

All too eagerly.

He graduated high school only to stay close by and go to the police academy. He would come in nearly every afternoon and as your parents made you the counter girl and learn some responsibility by helping out at their diner, he’d order a slice of pie and a coffee, or a milkshake and a burger.

By the time he’d graduated the academy, you were fifteen and thinking you were your own woman. You were fiery and independent and had enough wit that no man could keep up with you if you were feeling especially fiesty.

No man other than Lee.

He’d have long conversations with you at the counter and he found himself jealous when you mentioned how yet another guy in your class asked you out. The urge to tell you that he already knew that you were his was almost too much for him at some points.

Lee wanted you to know so bad.

So, he was full of glee when every high school relationship fell through, and you were left sitting at the counter with him, asking why men ‘couldn’t be more like him.’

‘Why can’t they be as sweet as you?’ she asked, ‘I feel like you really get me, Lee? Why can’t I find a man that wants me that’s like that?’

Every time you said those words, Lee felt like he was going to burst. But your parents kept an eye on you the whole time to make sure that Lee didn’t say anything. No. They wanted you to find out on your own.

And Lee kept true to his word. He wasn’t going to be the one that spoiled the surprise.

But everything changed the day after you turned seventeen. You had gone out the previous night and missed your shift at the diner. You hadn’t come home last night from a date. Your parents were frantic when they rushed the young officer who had sat nervously at the counter, a small bouquet of roses in his hand.

He’d had the date marked on his calendar and was going to be waiting for you. He had the ring in his pocket and everything. Lee was ready to proclaim his love, then let you know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He’d even had your parent’s blessing months in advance.

But yet, there they were, telling him about how they should have come to him the second you were late coming in.

You were never late.

He had your parents file a missing person’s report, lying and saying that you’d been gone fourty-eight hours, just to get the ball rolling.

No one had heard from your date either. And that’s when Lee got the call. A car was found in the lake. The same care you were last seen in.

A boy had been admitted to the hospital a few hours ago. He’d been found damn near death’s doorstep.

He tried to force himself on you at the lookout. And you mutilated him, locked him in the trunk of his car, and put it in neutral, letting it go into the lake. The only thing that saved the teen was the fact that the trunk was broken, and he kicked his way out when he came to, after having nearly bled out.

But you were long gone.

Lee’s heart was broken as he looked over the evidence. They were gonna charge you for something that wasn’t right. It was an ass backwards town, and your date was the mayor’s son. No one would believe a little thing like you over him.

Lee knew it.

After a long day of searching, he finally called it quits. Your parents were a mess, claiming that you weren’t that type of girl. But the mayor was calling for your head. His son was now a eunuch, and it was all your fault.

So, when Lee pulled into his house and set his belt and hat on the foyer’s hooks, he was ready to let his bed swallow him up. He didn’t ever want to think of love or soulmates ever again.

And then his hand fell away from his bedroom door. You were sitting there.

Anxiously.

At the foot of his bed.

“I knew it was you,” you whispered softly, looking at the officer. Lee couldn’t believe his eyes as you started again, your eyes catching his calendar that had your birthday circled in bold red ink, “it was you all along…wasn’t it?”

Lee felt his heart thundering in his chest as he stared at his soulmate. You were clean, your hair still wet. And you were wearing his clothes. An unlimited number of fantasies played in his head. Ones that he knew were never going to happen.

Like how he’d planned on proposing to you at the diner. Or how you would be so surprised as he promised an amazing life full of babies and a home to make your own. Or how he would support you even through your dreams of having a career outside of the diner.

“I-if you have to take me in…I understand,” you said sadly, “but Jeffrey…he tried to force himself on me…I told him that I saw you when we passed your car…and that I wanted to go home…but he-“

“You saw me?”

“In town,” you nodded, answering Lee, “he picked me up after my shift…you had just missed me as we drove by…I told him to stop and take me back, but he said that I was confused…I-I tried to tell him that you were my soulmate and that I could feel the pull…but-he-he wouldn’t let me go, Lee. He kept saying I was wrong.”

“He knew too?”

You nodded sadly, your heart racing as you watched him stand, “a-are you going to take me in?”

Lee reached forward and stroked your cheek, “no, sweetheart…I’m going to go to the hospital and kill that little bastard for trying to touch what is mine…and then we’re running away from this place…”

“Lee…h-he’s not worth it.”

“I waited for years to be with you, sweetheart…” he said calmly, “I held my tongue because your parents asked me to. Because they wanted you to live a normal life. That asshole took your choice…so I’m going to take his.”

#dark lee bodecker #soft lee bodecker #lee bodecker #devil all the time #the devil all the time #sheriff lee bodecker

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versadies · 3 years ago

Note

ophichius/body switch soulmate au +xiao or childe pretty please? for xiao it can be like, when the body switch happens the reader feels the burden of the karmic debt so xiao starts taking care of himself/leaving instructions on what to do just so his soulmate doesn't have to suffer as much. reader is the traveler, in inazuma and xiao just quietly appreciated being free from karmic debt even for a day, and appreciating inazuma's beautiful sights whilst reader is just. in wangshuu inn. suffering

delicate (hc scenario)

penpal: bless you for such an incredible idea ! hope you like this along with your other request on childe <<3

prompt: ophiuchus the snake, body-switch soulmate au

pairing/s: xiao x gn!traveler!reader

sypnosis: hc on how you and xiao went through the whole day in each other's body.

includes: reader is not aether/lumine and is a random traveler (sorry to anon if you meant by reader being aether/lumine), reader suffering cuz of karmic debt, mentions of physical pain, mentions of violence, pure fluff

the moment xiao opens his eyes from his quick nap, the first thing he sees is the view of narukami island.

the yaksha was alerted at first, wondering how he came from hunting around dihua marsh for demons to sitting down beneath a tree with a new environment he hasn’t been in before.

it wasn’t until he realized he’s in a different outfit and different body that he found out that today’s the special day.

he hopes you aren’t in too much pain.

he observes his surroundings for a moment, then his eyes moved down to his appearance, only to see an outfit that is deemed fit for a traveler. his soulmate is a traveler in inazuma?

now that the yaksha thinks about it, he has heard the unfortunate fate the people of inazuma has to go through with the new rules that the current archon has set up, with her soldiers taking away people's visions, discrimination against outlanders, and the borders being closed around the nation.

xiao immediately checks around his– or rather his soulmate's– body to see if they have a vision, feeling relieved when he felt the familiar form of a vision hidden underneath his clothing.

all he needs to do is hide the vision and not go to the city, where he's sure a lot of vision hunters will be found.

this shouldn't be too hard, right?

meanwhile, you're currently writhing in pain in your soulmate's body, confused with what's happening to you– or rather, your soulmate's body.

you honestly had never such intense pain until now, how the hell does your soulmate deal with this? did he get a rare illness?

you couldn't think straight, your mind throbbing in pain as your body continued to ache and ache with voices running in your he–

"xiao? are you okay?" you shakily look up at the woman, who was staring at you with a concerned look on her face.

before you could try to let out a word, you immediately dropped on the floor, gasping out from the continuous pain. when does it ever stop? you rather go back to inazuma and suffer their new regulations instead of going through this pain–

"you're not xiao, are you?" she asks, causing you to nod profusely in response as you clench your fists together, closing your eyes shut whilst ignoring the woman, who was busy looking for something in her clothing.

"here." you open your eyes to see her handing you what looked like a pill. as if the woman read your mind, she quickly clarified what the pill is. "it's a painkiller. your uh, soulmate gave it to me and told me to give it to you in case you two swit–"

without letting the woman continue, you immediately snatched the pill from her and swallow it whole.

it took what felt like more than 20 minutes for the pain to finally subside, causing you to finally sigh in relief. although the pain was still there, it surely wasn't as painful and unbearable as before.

by the time you calmed yourself down, you slowly stood up from the cold floor and look at the woman gratefully. "you have my thanks, miss...?"

"verr goldet," she responds with a gentle smile. "i'm the owner of this inn. if there's anyone you should thank for, it's definitely your soulmate. you would've suffered the whole period of your body swap if it weren't for his thoughtfulness."

you nodded in understanding. "i see.. but i still am grateful for you stepping in."

"it's no problem, though i'm sure you're starving right now, would you like to eat?"

"yes please."

unlike what you recently went through in xiao's body, xiao was having perhaps one of the most peaceful time he has ever experienced. after all, when will he find an opportunity to not suffer from his karmic debt in this lifetime?

although killing the opponents who came in his way was a hassle, he still found his time enjoyable– with the exception of his mind thinking a lot about your wellbeing in his body. surely verr goldet must've given you the painmeds, right?

besides that, you must've seen the instructions he left for you– but what if you didn't see it and had to go through so much pain later on?

"please be okay." he mumbled under his breath, letting out a worried sigh and continued walking around the land.

unnoticed by the yaksha, you were indeed okay.

"i can see why my soulmate would love these," you commented to verr as you take more bites of the sweet dessert. "what does he do daily?"

verr lets out a nervous laugh. "to be honest, i don't really know what else he does other than hunting demons around the nation. though, you don't have to worry about doing it since xiao insisted that you can spend the whole day here instead."

"oh..." you look down at your plate with a deep frown. what if there's a demon that's hurting people and you couldn't do anything about it?

before you could ask verr, she immediately looks up at where the reception area is. "i have to go now. if you want to know anything, i recall xiao telling me to tell you to look at the instructions in your pocket. i'll be back!" she said before rushing upstairs to tend to one of the visitors, leaving you alone with your food.

you searched for the pocket around your pants, pulling out the piece of paper and read the list.

"should the pain meds run out, please visit a man named zhongli in liyue harbor."

"don't try to hunt for demons unless you want to experience more pain to endure."

"please come to verr goldet if you need something or require food. almond tofu is the only thing i can stomache, unfortunately."

"do not come to public areas if you have no reason to go there. karmic debt– the pain you're going through right now– can be affective to others."

the rest was all more rules for you to read and you're honestly thankful for xiao to write all of this for your sake, now regretting that you didn't do the same for him. what if he isn't aware of what's happening to inazuma?

you take another bite of almond tofu, silently hoping that xiao is doing okay back in your homeland.

to tell you the truth, xiao's definitely doing alright.

the yaksha had never went out of liyue for a very long time until now. sure, he could admit that nothing can beat the beautiful views that liyue can offer but inazuma is a sight to see.

everywhere he went, he found himself being fascinated by everything in this land, looking through ruins and staring at flowers that he himself hasn't seen in all of his life.

not to mention the fact that the mobs that lurks around the areas are different than the ones in liyue.

he would be lying if he said he hadn't thought of getting you out of the nation and come to liyue harbor, but he knew it wasn't up to him to decide on that. if it weren't for his duty in protecting liyue, xiao would've wanted to try and go to inazuma just to keep you safe, but what if you dislike him after everything you went through in his body? what if you didn't like him because he's immortal–

"they won't think such thing." he mumbled to himself, still slightly taken back by the sound of your voice coming out from his mouth as he sat down in an abandoned adventurer camp he spotted, looking forward to try out foods that he can make with the ingredients he found in your inventory.

as the day went by, you spent there in wangshu inn, writing a letter for xiao to read by the time the body switch is over along with visiting the man who can provide you more pain meds. xiao on the other hand spent time adventuring around inazuma trying to not get caught by vision hunters, enjoying his time without karmic debt.

by the end of the day, as the moon rises, the both of you finally found yourselves back in your bodies– with you sighing in relief that you've already finished writing the letter and not having to be in pain again whilst xiao was happy to be back in his homeland.

you then noticed you're in watatsumi island, your home being not too far away from where you're standing, causing you to smile. who knew xiao unknowingly took you back to where you've been heading to?

xiao on the other hand, was sitting on the rooftop of wangshu inn, reading the letter you left with his heart pounding at the words you wrote just for his eyes.

his shoulders instantly relaxes when he reads that you were okay throughout the day–

his mouth twitches upward when he reads the last words you wrote.

"once i come to liyue harbor and escape from inazuma, i wish to meet you and enjoy almond tofus with you."

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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Call Me Kid (G.W.)

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: When her soulmate’s name appears on her wrist on her twentieth birthday, (Y/n)’s heart stings with betrayal when she finds out who it is.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst

As the clock slowly ticked towards midnight on the eve of your twentieth birthday, you couldn’t help but feel edgy. Your nerves were tingling and your stomach churned at the thought of what would be revealed on your wrist the moment you turned twenty. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to find out who your soulmate was; you just had no idea who it could be.

There was no one in your life who you felt a strong connection to. No one that gave your stomach the little tug that your parents so fondly described when they told you the story of how they met. And no one had revealed to you that you were their soulmate. You had always hoped that your soulmate was older than you. And that they would find you before you had to anxiously await for a name to be seared into your flesh. But no one had come forward yet. So you went with the assumption that you didn’t know your soulmate.

Of course, there was one person who you had always hoped it would be. It was your best friend’s older brother, George. It was a schoolgirl kind of crush, one that had you writing his last name on your school work and blushing every time he merely looked your way. As a child, you had followed him around like a lost puppy, fantasizing about your name adorning his wrist. But it wasn’t the case. His twentieth birthday had been years ago. You remembered the day very clearly.

You were spending the Easter holiday with the Weasleys, rooming with your best friend, Ginny. She was in your year and you had become fast friends the moment you sat next to each other on the train first year. You and most of the Weasley clan were eating breakfast, anxiously awaiting the twin’s arrival at the table. Fred had been up early, a wide smile informing you all that Angelina Johnson was his soulmate. Molly had clapped and pulled her son into a bone-crushing hug.

Eventually, George had stumbled down the stairs. The bags under his eyes were evident, displaying his lack of sleep, and his hair was disheveled from repeatedly running his fingers through it.

As he stepped into the kitchen everyone froze. Ron’s oatmeal dribbled down his chin as he stared at his brother, impatiently waiting for him to reveal his one true love. Molly’s hand was over her heart and her breathing was shallow as she anxiously awaited for her son to tell her the name of her future in-law.

George looked up to see everyone staring at him and just shook his head, tugging his sleeve farther over his wrist. Molly gasped before pulling her son into a comforting hug and you felt your heart break for him. George’s behavior let everyone know that he didn’t have a soulmate.

It was rare for people to have a blank wrist, though not impossible. Some people were meant to be alone. But you had never imagined that George could possibly be destined for loneliness.

You pushed the thoughts of your old infatuation and focused on the present. It was impossible for him to be your soulmate, the universe had already decided that, so there was no reason to even think of him.

Soon, your wrist began to burn. It wasn’t a terrible feeling; from the descriptions you had heard you assumed it would burn like placing your hand on a flame, instead it burnt like firewhiskey running down your throat. Your eyes watered as the name was carved into your skin, the gravity of the situation finally settling in. You were about to find out who your other half was, the person you were meant to spend your life with. The moment couldn’t be more daunting.

You screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to catch a glimpse of the forming letters until the burning subsided.

When your wrist cooled your eyes fluttered open. You took a deep breath before lifting your wrist up to your face. You read the name. Your world stopped. You couldn’t breathe.

George Weasley

Your mind ran over all of the possible explanations, confused as to how his wrist was blank but yours adorned his name. You came up with only one answer.

Your name was on George’s wrist. But he wished that it wasn’t.

Why else would he go through the trouble of hiding it? Why would he accept the years of pitying looks when he told people that he didn’t have a soulmate? Because he’d rather belong to no one than belong to you.

Hot tears rolled down your face as came to the realization. A moment that should have left you euphoric with happiness, only made you feel emptiness.

It was unfair really, that you had spent years pining after him and years feeling sorry for him, only for him to have been lying to you all along. You had been there when his mother cried for her son and cried for his life of loneliness. You had rubbed his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him when he sulked on the couch for a week. You felt like a fool.

As your mind began to remember all the moments where he had the opportunity to tell you the truth, you only became angry.

Because how dare he keep this from you. You were supposed to be his other half. You quickly wiped away your tears and apparated to the front of his shop.

It was a few minutes after midnight and the shop had been closed for hours. But you knew that he was up there in his flat above the store. You just hoped that he’d be able to hear you bang on the door from all the way up there.

After a few moments of relentless pounding, the door flung open.

“Bloody hell do you know what time it is?” Fred asked as he swung the door open. He caught sight of you and his mouth dropped.

“(Y/N)!” he said, a stunned expression on his face. You crossed your arms.

“Go get George,” you said, letting a small amount of anger to seep into your tone. Fred cast his eyes to the floor. The look he gave you let you know that he knew exactly why you were here. He had been in the same room as George when their soulmates had been revealed. He was probably the only other person in the world that knew about you.

“(Y/n) don’t be mad at him,” Fred said quietly. You scoffed and shook your head.

“How do you expect me to not be angry,” you asked incredulously. Fred just sighed and opened the door wider to let you in.

You hadn’t been inside the shop in years and under better conditions, you might have been able to appreciate the beauty in the chaos of it all. Even in the after hours inventions whizzed past your head.

“I’ll go get him,” Fred said before squeezing your shoulder and climbing up the stairs.

You nervously waited for him, suddenly regretting your decision to show up so abruptly. You hated that you could be so rash at times.

“Happy birthday,” a soft voice called out, interrupting your thoughts. You turned to see George staring at you from the top of the stairs, an unreadable expression on his face. You stiffened at the sight of him, instinctively wrapping your arms around your body as if to shield yourself from him. But that didn’t stop yourself from feeling drawn to him, as if the universe was tugging you towards him.

He slowly descended down the stairs, stopping a few feet in front of you. You stared at the floor, unsure of how to begin.

“(Y/n)...” he whispered softly, coaxing you to meet his eyes. You spoke instead.

“How could you?” you asked, your voice shaking. George let out a sigh.

“You have to understand. I couldn’t tell you,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“What is that even supposed to mean George?” you asked, “I was right there in your kitchen that day. You could have said something.” George shook his head.

“I had my reasons and you just have to trust that,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“Am I really that horrible?” you questioned, “so horrible that’d you rather lie and say that you didn’t have a soulmate than admit that it was me.” Your voice cracked. George shook his head and stepped closer to you. He lifted his hand as if he wanted to reach out to you, but he retracted it at the last second.

“That’s not why,” he said softly.

“Then why?” you pushed, angry that he wasn’t telling you what you wanted to know.

“You were just a kid, (Y/n)!” he said, desperation filling his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What does that have to do with anything?” you asked softly.

“(Y/n) you have to understand… You were sixteen! You were my little sister’s best friend and you were still in school! And I was older and I had the shop!” he explained. You shook your head.

“You still could have told me,” you whispered. George groaned.

“No, I couldn’t! I was out fighting with the order and you weren’t even old enough to use magic outside of school. You were a child,” he explained exasperatedly. You felt your face harden.

“What about now?” you asked bitterly.

“Huh?”

“What about now,” you repeated, “I’m not a child anymore and after everything that happened, I haven’t been for a while. You could have told me at any point over the last few years and you didn’t. Why?” George froze, clearly unsure of how to answer. You felt tears rise to your eyes at his silence, taking it as confirmation of his rejection. You took one last look at him and stormed out.

Two weeks later you’re standing outside the Burrow. Ginny and Harry’s engagement party was in full swing but you had no desire to be there. Sure, you wanted to be there for your best friend, but you knew George would be there and you weren’t ready to face him. He hadn’t attempted to contact you in the time since you’d seen him and the rejection stung. So you stuck to the same lie that he had; you told everyone that you were soulmateless. You took a deep breath and fiddled with the leather band that covered George’s name and stepped inside.

The Burrow was loud and bustling with people. Family members and school friends filled the space, leaving barely any room to breathe. People shot you sad smiles as you pushed through the crowd, all of them having heard of your predicament. You ignored them as you searched for Ginny.

Eventually, you found her near the kitchen, leaning against Harry, his hand on her waist. Your smile dropped for a moment, jealousy rippling through your body. It was the kind of quiet intimacy that you wanted with your soulmate. With George.

Ginny looked up and caught your eye, making her way over to wrap you in a hug.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, “it’s not like you to be late I was getting worried.”

“Sorry about that!” you apologized. Ginny just shook her head and dragged you over to where she had been standing. She snaked an arm around Harry’s waist, jumping right back into the conversation.

Harry was talking to Fred and Angelina about quidditch when you arrived. You sent them a quick wave and Angelina sent you a warm smile. Fred sent you an apologetic look which you ignored. You tried to immerse yourself in the conversation but you kept catching yourself scanning the room for George. You felt Ginny nudge your shoulder.

“You alright?” she whispered just loud enough for you to hear. You sent her a quick smile and a nod, hoping to convince her that you were fine. You subconsciously pulled your sleeve down farther.

As the party wore on you couldn’t seem to spot George. You didn’t know why you kept looking for him, it was obvious that he didn’t want to see you anyway.

You made your way into the kitchen, hoping you could pour yourself a drink. As soon as you stepped in you froze. There he was, leaning against the countertop, a glass in his hand. His eyes met yours and his body tensed. He seemed to be in just as bad of shape as you; he had evident eye bags under his eyes and his clothes were rumpled and unkempt.

You sent him a polite smile before grabbing a glass from the cabinet. You walked across the kitchen to where the bottle of firewhiskey was sitting, which was, unfortunately, very close to George. You reached for the bottle but you were interrupted by him grabbing your wrist. You looked up, shocked, only to see him staring down at the leather band that covered his name, running his fingers over it.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, his breath fanning across your face. You pulled your wrist back.

“Whatever George,” you replied, “it’s in the past now.” George screwed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face.

“But what if I don’t want it to be in the past,” he whispered. You stared at him, your mouth agape.

“What?” you whimpered. He reached for your hand again and you let him hold it.

“I don’t want to pretend that it never happened,” he said breathily, “I don’t want to pretend that we aren’t made for each other.” You scoffed slightly.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” you asked, bitterness seeping into your voice. George lifted your hand up so it was resting on his heart. You could feel it hammering in his chest.

“When I first found out that we were soulmates I didn’t tell you for all the reasons that I said. We were at different stages of our lives and I didn’t want to spring that on you. But then… But then as you got older I just- I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell you something like that after hiding it so long? I spent so long trying to figure out how to tell you but then time just caught up with me and it was too late,” he said, a new intensity in his eyes.

“George…” you whispered. He shook his head and spoke.

“Let me finish. Please,” he pleaded. You nodded your head. “Every time I saw you, you became more and more beautiful and more and more as I had always imagined my soulmate to be. You laugh at my stupid jokes and you always know what to say and you’re so much smarter than me… I couldn’t hope for a better other half than you,” he finished. You stared into his warm eyes, trying to decipher if he meant what he said. You could still feel his heart racing under your hand and his eyes were slowly filling with tears.

“Please forgive me,” he breathed. Without thinking you leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth. You stepped back, removing your hand from his heart and wrapping your arms around yourself. He stared at you, shock written all across his face.

“You’re my soulmate, George,” you whispered, “I can’t stay mad at you forever.” George smiled widely before stepping forward and scooping you up into a hug.

“Thank you,” he muttered into your hair. The two of you stayed like that for a moment. Your body flushed against his, his hands wrapped around your waist and yours slinked around his neck. When you pulled back you spoke.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me at first,” you admit, “I was just a kid.” He brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“But you’re not anymore and I should have told you sooner. I’ll never forgive myself for the years I wasted without you,” he said softly. You smiled shyly at him, seemingly returning to the schoolgirl crush that you had harbored for years.

“I’m glad it’s you,” You said. George smiled at the ground.

“I’m glad too.”

#George weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley/reader #george weasley/you #george weasley x oc #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine

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randomshyperson · 3 years ago

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 20 - Agatha's Memories (Part Two)

My official gif maker @abimess, thank you.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 20 - Part XX - Agatha's Memories (Part Two)

You don’t sleep for long, there is a sound of something breaking that makes you blink confusedly as you move on your bed.

Then you realize that it is the wood up your head that is moving, along with a red magic that you know very well.

You look forward, only to find Wanda with an impassive look on her face as she merges the bed into one.

“I’m sleeping with you from now on.” She says simply as she finishes, and you lay back on the mattress, not sure of what to say about that.

You hold your breath as you hear her taking off her shoes, changing to her pajamas next, staring on the roof of the tent as she does it.

She pulls the blanket to lie down, and then is mimicking your position.

"Would...would it be okay if I hugged you?" she asks after a moment, and you feel your heart race.

"I'd like that." You mumble clumsily, turning to the opposite side.

And it takes half a second for Wanda to wrap her arms around your waist, burying her face in your shoulders, inhaling your perfume and making you blush heavily.

Your legs entwine from underneath the comforter, and you feel more secure than you ever have before.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs against your skin. You think she is talking about what happened with the horcrux, and you just nod softly, but she repeats the apology against your ear, intertwining her hands in front of your belly, and you realize she is talking about everything.

"I love you." She confesses next, and you feel your eyes fill with tears.

The hug gets tighter, and you sink your face into the pillow, allowing yourself to cry.

And Wanda doesn't let go, even when you sob, and it takes a while, but you finally fall asleep. And when you do, she stays.

//-//-//-//

You woke up first. And you don’t wanna get up. Not when you have Wanda wrapped around you like this, your face buried her neck, as you both turned around during the night, and now your legs are completely entwined, and you are practically lying on top of her.

And all you do is sink even deeper against her body, sighing against her skin. She smells so good.

"-morning." She whispers hoarsely, still with her eyes closed, her hands around your body moving slowly against your back down and up, and you just murmur into her skin wishing you could stay in that moment forever.

"We should get up." Wanda says after a moment in silence, not seeming to really wish to do so.

"No, thank you." You retort and your voice comes out muffled against her neck, the vibration making her laugh.

"We need to darling, I think we have some lessons. "She says and you mumble softly, the curiosity to pursue the story Agatha was telling is enough to make you pull away.

But when you are about to let go of Wanda, she pulls on your forearm, and you look at her with confusion, but she moves forward and kisses you firmly.

It's slow, and soft. It makes you sigh, so you kiss her back, sinking right back onto the bed as her hands wrap around your hair to deepen the kiss.

When her tongue asks for passage, you see stars, melting under her touch. Wanda smiles against your lips, pulling you by the shoulders to lie on top of her.

But before you can do so, the sound of footsteps catches your attention, along with a soft hiss, and you grumble before pulling away.

Throwing your face back into the pillow, you try to calm your breathing and rapid heartbeat as Agatha strolls through the tent, until she comes to your room.

"Are the sleeping beauties going to get up, or should I bring coffee in bed?" She teases with her arms crossed as Wanda hides her smile as she notices your state. "You two know this isn't a honeymoon trip, right?"

"Stop being so bitter, Agatha." Wanda complains as she sits up. "We'll be right there."

"And a good day to us, ladies." The older witch retorts before leaving.

Wanda laughs softly, turning her attention back to you as you scramble up on the bed to sit down as well.

"How are you?" she asks, intertwining your hands on top of the mattress, and you let your gaze roam over her face, biting your lips against the urge to kiss her again.

"Fine." You murmur half hoarsely, from sleep or lust, Wanda will never know. "And you?"

"Better." She says with a nod, and you feel your heart race. Better with you here.

Wanda squeezes your hand before letting go, and she stands up, looking at you one last time before walking off toward the bathroom.

You sigh as you throw yourself back against the mattress, trying to push away the feeling of her tongue against yours and focus on the fact that you were even closer to completing your mission with one less horcrux to destroy.

//-//-//-//

“Where are we now?” You asked as you observed the surroundings. It’s the entrance of an old garage, in the corner of a city. But the real Agatha ignores your question as she guides you two inside, further into the memory.

Your dad, just a teen boy, maybe eighteen, is inside, working on a large machine, it seems that he was really a muggle mechanic, since there were cars all around, dismantled or not.

"Stark." It is Agatha from the memories who says, and startles your father slightly, who almost drops the screwdriver. But when he looks up, he smiles.

"Professor Harkness!" He says getting up, and wiping the grease on his apron quickly before greeting her. "You really did it!"

"I told you I would come." She says, and you are surprised at the affectionate way she looks at your father, "Look at you, Howard, you're so grown up."

Your father laughs, bowing his head softly. "Thank you, professor."

"I only say that because I've known you since you were a child." She humorously clarifies. "And now you are even growing a mustache. Tell me, do muggle girls like that sort of thing?"

Your father laughs with flushed cheeks, and Agatha follows him. Before they can say anything, there are voices and the sound of footsteps approaching, and soon, two people enter.

Wanda chokes softly next to you. "Mama."

You also recognized Magda, because you have seen pictures before. She had the same appearance as in the photos, and you were saddened by this, because she must have died not so long after this memory.

Erik stood beside her, wearing muggles like the woman next to him.

"Professor Harkness, you made it!" He greets politely, hurrying to shake the witch's hand as she smiles. "It's so good to see you again! This is Magda, my wife."

"It's a pleasure, dear."

The memory speeds up, you want to fight Agatha for cutting off Wanda's moment of seeing her mother properly, but the way Wanda strokes her thumb against your hand makes you give up saying anything.

The scene settles down in what you think is the apartment at the top of the garage where they were, all around a table, drinking beers.

"You guys know why I came all this way, don't you?" Agatha says, and seems to have just had a short pause in the conversation, as if everyone had been laughing before and suddenly got quiet. And the tension only increases with her comment.

Her father sighs, nodding. "There is no daily prophet here, but I have met some travelers. They are talking about a war, Agatha." He says worriedly. "But I want to hear it from you. Do you really think that could happen?"

Agatha gives a humorless laugh. "It's already happening." She says, placing her beer on the table, and straightening her posture. "The minister of magic waited too long. And now, this group, these so-called death walkers, or whatever ridiculous name they are thinking of trying, are everywhere. In the ministry, in the diagonal alley, in the Order."

Your father looks really upset, but you notice how uncomfortable Erik looks.

"And do you really think that's what they're after, Agatha?" He asks. "War. Do you think that's what the walkers are after?"

The teacher raises her eyebrow slightly. "What else could it be, besides chaos and complete destruction of our society, Erik?"

His former teacher is unaffected by the snickering, he just gives a half-hearted laugh. " Well, freedom of course." He says, clearing his throat softly. "See, that time we've been here. New York is fascinating. Things are bad for muggles it's true, but for the rest of us, damn. The wizards are doing just fine. They have so much magic here, so much freedom to study what they want. The ministry encourages the discovery of new areas, gives financial support to researchers!"

Agatha crosses her legs, listening to Erik's speech carefully.

When he realizes that he may be defending Mephisto's group too much, he pauses, straightening up. "I'm just trying to say that maybe a change in the British government is exactly what our society needs to evolve, Agatha."

"You know, when Fury told me he wanted to recruit you boys to the order, I told him that children don't fight wars." She declares and you see the boys widen their eyes. "You two know that Katherine is dead, right? That Nick took over leadership of the order in his mother's place, and the first names he wanted were yours."

Your father nods, as does Erik.

"Well, I didn't agree." She says. "I said I knew other wizards, more experienced, more trustworthy. Wizards who didn't flee their homeland to live the American dream."

"That's not-" Your father begins but the look in Agatha's eyes makes him shut up.

"Nick insisted that I come here." She continues. "He said that you have kept in touch by correspondence, and that you continue to have the same, what was the word, moral inclination. But now I wonder if he was really right about that."

"I didn't mean to say that the walkers are right!" Erik exclaims defensively, looking embarrassed, but Agatha just smiles.

"Don't worry, honey." She says as she leans in. "I think that kind of moral difference is exactly what makes this whole conflict interesting."

"That's sadistic of you, Agatha." Howard comments seriously. "We're talking about a war."

"Don't be hypocritical now, Howey." She retorts with a wicked smile. "You think I don't know who the travelers you've been talking to are? Say, the magical trafficking laws are simpler in America, aren't they?"

Your father locks his jaw, but keeps his face up.

"I did what I needed to do to survive here." He says simply, and Agatha laughs.

"Of course you did." She says. "So did we all. And now we have a potential battle ahead of us, something that could change the course of wizarding life for future generations. Tell me, do you intend to stand here fixing machines and pretending that your friends are not dying for your freedom? And I thought you were tired of this kind of attitude, golden boy."

Your father stands up, enraged. But he says nothing, and swallows his pride. He gives Erik one last look before leaving the room.

Agatha sighs softly, turning her attention back to Erik, who has his fists clenched in his lap.

"You know very well that the situation is not so simple." He says and Agatha smiles.

"And you know it's him don't you?" She retorts and Erik clenches his jaw.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you know very well, Erik." Agatha insists. "When I fired him, he didn't stay in England. He came to America with his favorite student."

"Keep your voice down." Erik quickly retorts, looking back a moment before leaning forward. "It's not what you think."

"But I don't think anything." She says. "I'm exactly giving you the chance to explain yourself, before I draw my own conclusions."

Erik takes a deep breath, and turns to Magda, squeezing her hands.

"Honey, can you give us a minute?" He asks, and Wanda's mother looks like she's going to say no, before nodding.

She walks off in the same direction as her father, and then Erik and Agatha are alone.

"Professor Faustus has asked me for support, Agatha." He says. "He was out of a job, and with his name tainted with rumors that no one has proven. And he never treated us badly, so I helped him."

"You kept this from Howard? I thought you were best friends." Agatha teases but Erik laughs humorlessly.

"Of course not." He says. "Who do you think paid for the tickets?"

"Interesting." She says. "Why tickets?"

"Because he was being investigated for the dark magic rumors." Erik says. "The ministry put a blocker on him. Any magic he tried to do would go straight to the minister's notes. And well, he needed Howey's help to remove the device from behind his neck."

"While he was hiding, I imagine he told you about his wonderful ideas."

"No, Agatha." He says. "Faustus just looked tired. And he felt betrayed, mostly by you. But in general, he complained, and studied. Howey and I would work all day, and he would stay in his room, among the magic books, unable to conjure anything, not even a light spell. I've never seen him so frustrated."

"I'd feel sorry for him, if that wasn't his fault." Agatha murmurs and Erik sighs in agreement.

"A few months after we arrived, Howey got it." Erik recounts. "Tivan gave him the materials he needed, and he freed Faustus from the blocking device in his skin. He thanked us, said he'd write, and then disappeared. We never heard from him again, but the letters from Fury started coming in the next months."

"Did Howard suspect?"

"No." Erik says squirming uncomfortably in his chair. "Howard trusted him, mostly because of the way he stood up for him in school. About supporting him to study mechanics, even if no one else would. But I knew I had to be smart after what happened with Raven."

"He tried to recruit you?"

Erik sighs. "No, Agatha. But he will."

"I know." She says. "That's why I came."

" I should have guessed that you don't make friendly visits, even to your best students."

Agatha laughs softly, leaning her arm on the carpet. "You think just because you can conjure a patronus you're my best student, Erik? I helped establish the order of merlin. You are not even remotely the most talented wizard I have taught."

"You are hurting my feelings." The man jokes, making the other woman smile.

"How will this work then, Erik?" She asks. "Are you going to accept Fury's offer? Or will you follow your heart?"

The man smiles, standing up. "That just concerns me, and my wife, don't you think?"

"Actually, no." Agatha retorts without sounding angry as Erik moves to collect the beer bottles and put them in the trash. "In fact, I think you even need to leave her."

Erik laughs in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"A muggle, Erik." She says as if it's obvious. "You're going to drag her into a war? That's cruel."

"Magda is stronger than you imagine."

"I'm sure she is." The witch says getting up as well. "But that is until she is hit by the first spell."

“Agatha, please.”

“Muggles can't handle magic like we can, Erik." She insists seriously. "You know that. A simple stupefy could kill her."

"I love her." He says turning away. "And I'm not going to England without her. If she decides to stay, then I will too."

"That's disappointing." Agatha comments, but Erik doesn't flinch, crossing his arms. The witch sighs. "Then do me a favor. Howard, at least he, needs to go. We can't afford to lose allies."

"I'll talk to him." Erik assures. "But you know that with all that his father has done, he doesn't want to go back to London anytime soon."

"This is so much bigger than a family feud." Agatha retorts. "Tell him that, and he'll feel guilty enough to accept it."

"Your mind games are wicked, professor." Erik says before nodding in agreement, leaving.

Agatha sighs, getting pensive.

Just then Magda walks back into the room.

"Miss Harkness?"

"Hello, dear."

"I just came to ask if you're going already? Erik looked upset, but I can walk you to the door. It's good manners."

The memory shakes until they are outside, and Magda leads her to the same place she should have appeared before.

"Please, before you go, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, sweetie."

Magda hesitates, but takes a deep breath and says. "If Erik stays, what are the chances of this war reaching us?"

Agatha looks at the woman for a moment. "I don't think there is a way to escape what is happening in England, Magda. And if we lose, it's not just the witches who will suffer the consequences."

Magda nods in understanding, then steps forward. "Tell me how I can help you."

"He wouldn't approve, but I can't watch everything fall apart around us. Tell me how I can help."

Agatha smiles, touching Magda's shoulder. You hold your breath, as does Wanda, who also notices the magic in the witch's fingertips, and the purple color in her eyes.

"Leave him, dear." She says. "But it needs to be natural, okay? As best as I can, he must not suspect it was my idea. Erik would never put you in danger, but he wouldn't leave you alone either. So you need to end it all."

Magda has tears in her eyes, but she just nods mechanically. And the memory becomes blurred.

Wanda is tense beside her, and you are silent.

"That doesn't make sense." You mutter. "Carol told me that Magda was in Sokovia, and that-"

"She's not my mother, is she?" Wanda cuts you off, looking at the floor. The real Agatha sighs, as you look at the two in confusion.

"How could you tell?" She asks.

"I don't have her eyes."

It was a funny detail about the few pictures of Magda that Erik had in the Maximoff house. All the pictures were old, because they were from muggles. And they were never sharp enough in detail, just good enough for you to be able to recognize the woman in the recollection.

Agatha laughs softly. "Is that all Erik told you about your mother? That you had her eyes?"

Wanda squeezes your hand, and with the other she wipes her cheek.

"Just show me the truth at once, Agatha."

"As you wish."

//-//-//

You stumble gently as you get used to the dirt floor that has stabilized at your feet.

"Are you okay?" You whisper to Wanda, but she just nods, smiling weakly before looking back at the memory forming in your eyes.

You were startled by the bright lights in the sky, recognizing them immediately as wandering spells.

Someone just fought here, and it was no small fight.

"Agatha!" Erik shouted, approaching quickly, coming from the corner as if he had been hiding until now, and the teacher had emerged.

Wanda also held her breath as she noticed the large cut on his forehead, the blood dripping down his face.

"T-They've surrounded us..." He says breathlessly, his wand in fists as he stumbles to get closer. "We narrowly won and-"

"Calm down boy." Agatha says as she holds his shoulders, working quickly to heal his wounds. "Where are the others?"

"Further away." Erik replied visuvelmettely exhausted. You could tell he was a little older than the last memory, but he was still young. "Back to the mansion.

"Good, they' ll be safe there." She says as she helps Erik stand properly. "Where's Natalya?"

And Erik chokes, sobbing. You frown in confusion, and Agatha makes a pitying face.

"Oh, Erik."

He cried, shrugging. "She was.... She tried to gain ground. She hit four of them at once. But... But she-"

And he sobbed, and Agatha didn't insist, hugging him.

"I'm sorry, Erik." She whispered.

And the memory trembled until they were back on the mansion's dirt path, almost at the iron driveway, the man visibly calmer, though quite shaken.

"Erik, what about the children?" Agatha asks as she stops walking in front at the gate.

The man looks on the verge of tears again, but only sighs.

"I have no idea, Agatha." He says. "No place is safe in the UK anymore. I can't leave the order to look after them, I don't know what to do."

And Agatha looks at him a moment, before nodding. "I will help you."

You see many flashbacks of memories, Agatha greeting injured order members, then going back to write letters, and checking the news. You think you see flashes of fights too, big duels, before everything stabilizes again.

It's Magda in front of you, and she looks more mature too.

"Years ago, you asked me how I could help you." Agatha spoke behind you, and you startled yourself by jumping to the side, and watching intently as the witch touched Magda's hands. "You saved yourself by leaving him. But you will save his life and the rest of the wizarding world if you accept what I am about to ask of you."

Magda's eyes widened, but she nodded after a moment. Agatha waved her hands, and a cart approached you.

"Run away, Magda." She says. "Their mother had a house, enchanted to protect from invaders on a hill in a small country in Europe." Agatha explains as Magda lets out a surprised exclamation at the babies in the stroller.

"They... are beautiful." She whispers excitedly, touching the children with her fingers, who fall asleep innocently. "What happened, Agatha? Where is Erik?"

"The fight just got bigger, hon." She explains. "Much bigger than we ever expected. Your people are suffering too, but they're saying it's natural disasters."

Magda is shocked, but she speaks again. "Agatha, I am not a witch. I can't protect them."

"That's exactly why you can." Agatha retorts, taking the other woman's hands again. "Go to Sokovia. There are no witch communities there. Hide yourself, hide them. You have no idea how important it is to keep them safe."

"Tell me, then."

Agatha swallows dryly, and looks away from the babies. "It's only a legend, but it could change the fate of this war. The girl, Magda, is a powerful witch. A special kind, like her mother was."

"My god, she's just a child, Agatha."

"That's exactly why she needs to be protected." The witch retorts. " She' s fragile, like a crystal to be stolen. She must not be found, promise me you will protect her."

"I promise." She says nodding, but Agatha sighs, and her eyes turn purple, her grip increases.

"No matter what happens, Magda." She says. "You will protect them, do you understand?"

"Yes."

The memory shakes again, and this time, your father is in front of you, and you hold your breath, shocked to see him so close so suddenly.

“You’re a snake!” He accused angrly, but without any movement, his eyes were serious with his arms crossed.

You turn to realize he was talking to Agatha, in a room that had no windows.

“I was keeping them safe, Howard.” The woman said. “I don’t expect you to understand the feeling of desperation, because you have an armored mansion at your will.”

“You used Erik’s grief to manipulate him into believing in you!” He shouted. “I’m not asking you again, where are his children?”

Agatha laughs softly, looking at your father indignantly.

"Are you listening to yourself, Howey?" she teases. "Erik switched sides, accept that."

"Nat died on our side." He retorts. "She was my friend, my ally. And she trusted us to protect the twins, you had no right to hide them!"

"They are safe!" Agatha retorts, and looks at the man with a warning expression. "And I suggest you stop making such a scandal about it, Howard! You don't want Mephisto to find out about the girl's true nature. We're close enough to defeat already."

"This isn't about that stupid legend-"

"Isn't it?" Agatha interrupts with irony. "Then why only now? It's been weeks since I took them. I know exactly what you want with the twins, Howard. You want to see if it's true, if they really can change the war." She says approaching. "I will clear that up for you then, since you clearly have no knowledge at all on the subject. A scarlet witch is worthless until she reaches maturity. If you try to take the magic from the baby, you'll just get a victim. And I won't allow that to happen."

"I wasn't going to steal the child's magic, Agatha. Who do you think I am?"

"I don't give a damn who you say you are now, Stark." She retorts."Not to you, nor to Erik, who can't make up his mind whose side he's on."

Agatha moves to leave, clearly ending the conversation. But before she leaves, your father calls out to her.

"Why are you so committed to protecting them, Agatha?" He asks.

"Natalya was my family before she was an Auror, Howard."

As Agatha leaves, the memory fades, but you and Wanda are wide-eyed, confused by the latest revision.

And the ground is shaking at your feet, and you are being pulled back into consciousness.

//-/-//-//-//

You awaken last, stretching confusedly away from the tree you had leaned against as you sat on the ground to begin viewing the memories watched with the other women.

Wanda is already getting up, to find Agatha standing peacefully looking at the mountainous landscape ahead.

"So, what are you?" she asks the older witch.

Agatha sighs softly, without looking at Wanda.

"Natalya Maximoff was born in Romania, during the witch revolution in the country." She begins nostalgically, a short smile at the corner of her lips. "I found her shaking like a leaf, less than twelve weeks old inside a box of potatoes."

You are shocked, as is Wanda, but you just listen.

"I think her mother tried to hide her. But she got caught in the middle of it. Romania was in chaos at the time, it was a real bloodbath. "She says. "I was there to fight. The English ministry provided special witches to take on a wizard, known as Kang the Conqueror."

Agatha gives a humorless laugh, sounding upset.

"If you think Faustus is bad, it's because you've never met him." She counters. "He was a master nocramanter. He created an army of the living dead, the inferi. It was the worst fight I've ever been in. But we won, and he was killed. For real this time."

Agatha looked away from the landscape to look at Wanda.

"I bonded with the child, Miss Maximoff." She says. "I could have left her in that box, and gone on my way. But I took her in my arms, and only let her go when she was mature enough for that."

"And then?" Wanda asked with emotion in her voice, looking at Agatha with tears in her eyes.

"I found out that she was a scarlet sorceress, but unlike you, she never completed her forging." The witch says sadly. "She died at the age of 20, a year before she was going to do the spell."

Wanda looks down at her feet, crossing her arms as she absorbs the whole story. Agatha thinks this is a good opportunity to keep talking.

"The war was already over when I found Natalya." She says. "The village where I believe she was born had been destroyed in a shambles. And they put her in the box, while the British aurors were doing the stakeouts. I took her with me, I didn't tell anyone." She recounts. "When she turned eleven, I found out what she was. I taught her everything I could, but I didn't let her go to Hogwarts. I kept her at home, where she wouldn't put the students or herself in danger."

You bite the inside of your cheek, surprised that Agatha was able to hide a daughter. But honestly, it wasn't that shocking.

"When she turned 16, she started rebelling, you know how teenagers are." She says. "She left because she didn't agree with the way I saw the world. And I said I would be waiting for her to come back when she realized that only I could help her."

"But she didn't come back." Wanda completed and Agatha sighed, nodding.

"No, of course not," she says. "She moved to a muggle province, and built a house. And ran away from her fate until her power got too overwhelming."

"Did you look for her?" You ask, and Agatha nods in agreement, turning her gaze to the landscape.

"With the war, I wanted allies." She says. "And I really thought I could get to the house of the daughter I hadn't spoken to in years to ask her to fight for me."

"But she accepted, didn't she?" Wanda says and Agatha sighs.

"On her terms, yes." Answered the woman. "Your mother was a smart girl, Wanda. She made me swear under the best intentions."

And it takes a moment for Wanda to understand what was really being said.

"How?"

Agatha sighs, turning to you again. "I took a perpetual vow to do what was right. What would save lives, what she considered right." She explains. "But contract magic is so encompassing. Especially when you say ambiguous phrases like do the right thing, or stuff like that. That's why I was able to get around the spell so many times. That's why it shaped itself with her death."

"That's why you can't hurt Wanda." You conclude in a sigh.

Agatha nods. "The power of the Scarlet Sorceress has always been tempting. But I would never steal it from Natalya, she was my daughter." She says. "But you were just a student. And I wouldn't mind taking that responsibility out of your hands."

"Not even if I was her daughter?" Wanda asks in a mixture of disgust and indignation, but Agatha only gives a humorless laugh.

"Don't judge me so much." She retorts. "If I didn't care, you wouldn't even be alive. Least of all your girlfriend."

But Wanda steps away, putting herself in front of you.

"You didn't do this because you care." She accuses. "You did it because of the vow. Because you will die if you don't keep your words to her."

"Maybe." She says,shrugging. "But what matters is my actions, not motivations. Actions are all that matter in the end."

"I'm sick of this, Agatha." Wanda retorts indignantly. "You think you can say some philosophical shit and get rid of the things you've done? You manipulated my entire family, and you played with my destiny. I'd rather be alone than around you."

Wanda walks off at a brisk pace, and you follow her, not knowing exactly what to do.

Agatha clenches her jaw, refusing to turn around and apologize.

Wanda begins to pack up very quickly, and you stare wide-eyed as she puts Godric's sword into her purse.

And soon you are outside.

"I told you I wouldn't forgive you if you crossed another line with me." She says. "But I realized that there's nothing more you can do besides all the bad things you've already done."

"If you expect me to apologize for keeping you alive so far, you are deluding yourself." Agatha retorts stubbornly, her arms crossed.

Wanda gives a humorless laugh, her hand interlacing hers. "I don't expect anything from you, Agatha. Even if you think it's the right thing to do, stay away from me. And especially from her."

"As you wish, Miss Maximoff."

You notice the tears in the older witch's eyes before she looks the other way. Wanda turns her face to you next.

“Think of a safe place.” She asks in a whisper, and you nod. It takes a second before everything spins around.

//-//-//-//-//

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x yn #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #the scarlet witch x reader #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

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xreaderxo · 4 years ago

Text

My Moon

Zuko x reader

Soulmate AU

genre: angst but with a good ending

warning: death, sickness

summary: Every Fire Nation citizen gets a tattoo on their wrist when they turn sixteen. This tattoo shows the first words your soulmate will say to you. Some people find this person immediately, and spend the rest of their lives together. Some people never get the chance.

"Why do you keep that ribbon on your wrist?"

Zuko clenched his fists by his sides, exhaling a breath of fire in frustration. Sozin's Comet was in three days, and this was the fourth time Aang has stopped training to ask a question that had nothing to do with firebending.

"Aang," Zuko said impatiently, "Stop avoiding training."

"But I want to know!" Aang clasped his hands together. "That's where your soulmate's first words are, right? Why are they covered?"

Zuko groaned. "Because I don't have time for a soulmate. I was too focused on finding you, and now I need to focus on defeating my father."

"So you've never looked at it!?" Aang's eyes widened before he lunged forward. "Let me see! Let me see!"

"Wha- Aang!" Zuko yelled, trying to pry the airbender off of him as he stretched his right arm out of his reach. "Get off!"

"I want to know what your words are!"

"Why are you interested in my love life!?"

"Because I would kill to have what you have and you don't appreciate it!"

"Don't appreciate what?" Sokka asked, popping a grape into his mouth as he walked up to the hill where the two were sparring.

"Sokka!" Aang shouted. "Take Zuko's ribbon off!"

"Ooh, I love annoying Zuko!" Sokka said gleefully, grabbing Zuko's wrist and ripping the black fabric off. "Uh, why am I annoying Zuko?"

"Because Zuko's never looked at his soulmate tattoo!" Aang snatched a frozen Zuko's wrist and read it. "I want the last thing I see to be the moon," he read.

"Poetic." Sokka nodded approvingly. "I like them already, they like staring at my first girlfriend!"

Zuko blinked. "Wait, hold on- your first girlfriend actually turned into the moon? Like literally?"

That was a year ago. Zuko was Fire Lord now. Currently, he was headed to a secluded cliff he had found the day before to meditate. There was a sickness going around, and although it wasn't contagious, Iroh hadn't wanted him to be in a populated area. So, he was going to be alone away from other people.

Or so he thought.

He halted as he entered the clearing to the cliff. There was a person- you -lying down in the grass, staring at the moon. Remembering his tattoo, a spark of hope lit in his chest. He was Fire Lord. The war was over. It would be safe to fall in love. Maybe this was his soul mate.

His hope quickly turned to dread as he got closer. They had the sickness. Judging from their skin and frailty, they probably didn't even have an hour left.

Still, even if they aren't his soulmate, Zuko wasn't about to let anybody die alone.

"Uh, it's pretty cold out," he said as he got closer, and visibly winced. It wasn't cold. It was the middle of summer in the Fire Nation.

You shrugged, not having the strength to sit up to see who your soulmate was.. "I want the last thing I see to be the moon."

Zuko's breath hitched. "No," he whispered.

You chuckled bitterly. "We finally meet, and I'll be dead by morning. Sounds about right." you paused. "You can go, if you want. I don't want you to have to see this."

"I'm not letting my soulmate die alone," Zuko said determinedly, his legs shaking, and laid down beside you. You looked at him, and raised your eyebrows in shock as you recognized him.

"Well, look at that! If I hadn't gotten this cough, I would've been the queen!" you joked. "Nice to meet you, Fire Lord. I'm Y/N."

Y/N. It was the most beautiful word Zuko had ever heard.

"Just call me Zuko," he replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You two laid there for a few minutes, drinking in each other's appearances. You knew he was handsome, as you'd seen his face plastered all over the Fire Nation for years. First listed as a traitor and most recently, Fire Lord. He was even more handsome up close. His amber eyes had flecks of fire orange in them. And his scar? You thought that it was the most handsome part of all. It showed he'd been through something terrible, and overcame it.

Zuko couldn't believe someone so beautiful could exist. You were gorgeous. Stunning. Even in your frail state, your complexion blemished from the sickness, your cheekbones jutting out sharply, Zuko had never seen anything so divine.

"Y/N?" he whispered, his eyes locked with yours.

"Yes, Zuko?"

He gulped, bringing his other hand to cup your cheek and resting his forehead on yours. "Tell me everything about you."

And so you did.

You told him your childhood. You told him about the first time you broke a bone. You told him how you felt when your father died. You told him that your favorite food is Roast Duck. You told him that you always planned on naming your daughter Izumi. You told him how you donated everything you owned to the Ursa Medical Center that Zuko had recently set up. You told him how excited you were whenever you heard that the Avatar had returned, because finally there would be peace.

"I was so happy that it was you who became Fire Lord and not somebody else." You had your head on his chest at this point, his legs tangled with yours.

"Why?" Zuko's fingers were running through your sweat-soaked hair, the wetness not registering.

"Because," you hummed, "You betrayed the Fire Nation to help the Avatar. You were willing to leave everything you'd ever known to bring peace." you paused, tilting your chin so you could look at him. "Plus, you're pretty cute, too."

Zuko blushed as the corners of his mouth turned upwards. "You think I'm cute? Have you seen yourself?"

You chuckled weakly. "Yeah, I'm a real dime piece right now." Zuko's hand stilled. He leaned up on one elbow so he could look down on you.

"Y/N," he said seriously, "You are incandescently beautiful. You are oh so pulchritudinous. You are the most stunning of all of God's creations."

You smiled at him. If your body could produce enough water for it, tears would be running down your face. "Thank you," you whispered. As Zuko laid back down, you spoke again. "Now, tell me everything about you."

So he did. He told you about his mother. He told you about being banished. He told you how it was trying to capture the Avatar. He told you about his time in Ba Sing Se. He told you about his uncle. He told you about being friends with the Avatar, and joining their group. He told you what it was like to face Azula. He told you about how Aang and Sokka had ripped off the ribbon, which you both shared a laugh at.

He sighed. "I wish we had more time," he choked out. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I just met you, but I can't imagine living without you."

"Well, that's the thing about soulmates," you replied, running your hand through his hair and bringing his head down to yours until your lips were centimetres apart. "We'll never truly be apart."

And then Zuko was kissing you. He was kissing your lips and your nose and your cheeks and your forehead and your eyebrows and back to your lips. He was kissing you as though he thought that if he kissed you enough, he could save you. He was kissing you as if it would be the last kiss you would ever share, which was likely.

You were the one to break the kiss, as you were losing breath. You could feel it coming, and Zuko could, too. "I- I don't know what to do," he whimpered, holding you closer. "We've only known each other for an hour. We should be able to have a life together, to grow old together. It isn't fair!"

"Shh, Zuko," you hummed into the hollow of his neck. "We'll see each other again, my love. And whenever you miss me, just look at the moon. This," you pulled back and gestured to the moon above, "Is our moon. Forever." You laid your head back on his chest, and your voice was barely above a whisper when you next spoke. "Can you sing me to sleep?"

Zuko's heart was breaking, but he couldn't say no. "Of course," he hiccuped, choking back a sob, before he began singing a song his mother used to sing him.

“Deep in the meadow, under the willow A bed of grass, a soft green pillow Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm Here the daisies guard you from every harm Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away A cloak of leaves, A moonbeam ray, Forget your woes and let your troubles lay And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, here it's warm Here the daisies guard you from every harm Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true Here is the place where I love you.”

As he finished the song, his heart stopped. You weren't breathing. Agony, the worst pain he’d ever felt, ripped through his chest. An inhuman scream erupted from his throat as he pulled your body into him, his tears falling. He'd just met you, and yet you had become his world. And you were gone.

He stayed there the entire night until Iroh found him the next morning, still clutching your ice-cold corpse. Iroh's heart snapped, immediately knowing what must have happened. It took hours to pry Zuko away from you. He spent the next week crying into Iroh's shoulder. "I don't think she heard me tell her I love her, Uncle," he sputtered before another sob wracked his shoulders.

"She knew," Iroh assured him. "I promise. She knew."

He arranged a funeral for you that was fit for a Fire Queen, and had you buried on the cliff where you had met.

Fire Lord Zuko's reign lasted sixty-seven years. After much pressure from his advisors about an heir, he did end up taking a wife. Her name was Mikoto, from a noble Fire Nation family. Her soulmate had died as well, so it was a perfect fit. They both knew they could never love another, but they were best friends.

They had a daughter, who Zuko named Izumi. He was still alive whenever she took over as Fire Lord, and he'd never been more proud of anything or anyone.

And yet, he still missed you. He thought about you every day, and every night he would sit and stare at the moon. Sometimes he would cry, thinking about what could have been. Other times he would be happy, telling you about Izumi's accomplishments. He would always sleep with the window open, so that the last thing he saw before he went to sleep was your moon.

He died at the age of one hundred in his sleep, his face still turned towards the moon.

Zuko's eyes opened to find himself in the Spirit World face to face with Iroh himself.

"Uncle!" he cried, wrapping him into a hug.

"Hello, Zuko!" Iroh said with a smile. "It's nice to see you again!"

"Hey Sifu Hotman, you better give me a hug, too!" Zuko whirled around to see Aang, and his smile widened as he jumped into the Avatar's arms. Stepping back, Zuko noticed that Aang was a lot older than he was.

"Why am I seventeen again?" he asked.

"For the same reason that I am twenty-five," Iroh explained, "The age I was when my son was born. Here, you remain the age you were when you were at your happiest."

"I was happiest when I was twenty-one, when Katara and I got married," Aang explained. "You're seventeen because that's how old you were when you met them."

Zuko froze as he heard footsteps behind him, before whirling around.

"Hello, My Love," you said. You were healthy and in a beautiful red gown. Zuko's breath hitched, his eyes filling with tears. He ran forward to envelop you in a hug.

"I've missed you, too," you chuckled as he peppered your face with kisses. The two of you stared at one another, soaking in each other's appearances yet again. He rested his forehead against yours.

"We can finally spend forever together," he said in what was meant to be a whisper, but he was so elated that it came out as a yell.

"I can't wait," you replied in the same tone.

"I love you." The words Zuko had been wanting to tell you finally left his lips.

"I know," you answered, cupping his cheeks with your hands. "I love you, too."

As the two of you shared another kiss, the full moon above seemed to shine a little brighter.

#zuko x reader #zuko #prince zuko #zuko imagine #soulmate au #fire lord zuko #atla #a:tla #atla imagine #sokka #iroh #aang #soulmate zuko

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