#look I love past lives and soulmatisms okay

[winwintea]

that's okay

PAIRING ↬ academic rival!na jaemin x ace!female reader

TAGS ↬ fluff, romance, slight angst, academic rivals to lovers au, college au, fake dating au, jaemin = campus playboy, drunk decisions, art museum date, plushies because i want a plushie, jaemin is kinda whipped fr

SUMMARY ↬ you're determined to outshine your academic rival na jaemin, the campus heartthrob infamous for his frivolous reputation. but when a few too many drinks suddenly ropes you into a fake dating scheme with jaemin, you realize that there's much more to him than his playboy persona. can two opposites navigate a connection that’s anything but fake?

WORD COUNT ↬ 3.7k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lotties-readings !! grinding this fic in a day was so fun. the 3 am brain creativity actually carried this time too. hope i did him justice 😭😭 SHOUTOUT TO THE ASEXUAL COMMUNITY I LOVE YALL <33 THIS ONE'S FOR YOU !!!!

PLAYLIST ↬ cooler than me - mike posner, anti-romantic - txt, are you satisfied? - marina, that's okay - d.o.

WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?

Na Jaemin. The Playboy. He’s probably slept with half of the school and the rumors are on and off with him. The college’s infamous frivolous playboy, a firm believer of the ‘hook up as much as you can before you find your soulmate!’ ideology. For some, it was oddly endearing. For you? Maddening. Because Na Jaemin wasn’t just a playboy. He was your rival. Jaemin just had this certain charm to him that attracted the masses. Everyone, including your friends, had had a crush on him at one point in their lives. Everyone except you. Despite his supposedly carefree attitude, he always ranked #1. And you? Stuck perpetually at #2, clawing at his heels, only for him to breeze past like it was nothing. If it were anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t care so much. But no—it had to be him.

You swore to steer clear of him. No parties, no flirtations, and certainly no personal involvement. That resolve lasted until one ill-advised college party, where Jaemin, drunk and absurdly charismatic, roped you into the lead role of his most ridiculous performance yet: his fake significant other. And you were equally as drunk to play along with it, nodding in the face of his ex-girlfriend as she looked at the both of you in disbelief. For a playboy like Jaemin, you thought he was managing to control his dating life better than this. But you guess he just got bored of being surrounded by love.  “Just go with it,” he’d said. You hadn’t thought it would last beyond that night.

You were wrong.

You suppose it’s partly your own fault finding yourself in your current situation, considering the recent events. In a world where everyone is busy chasing after time, enjoying the dating scene, you’re an outcast. An outcast with false modesty to trick people’s curiosity. You should be used to them by now, their comments about you not being interested in relationships. And even though you do feel fed up with it, the thought of lying about dating someone just so they can shut up never crossed your mind.

“Remind me again why I have to spend the whole day being your pretend partner.” you say, glaring as Jaemin hands you a pastry. “The party doesn’t start until 10PM tonight!” 

“Here you go, love. Be careful, it’s hot!” he says, completely ignoring your question. He resumes walking, hands in his pockets, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, resuming your slow stroll in the garden of a nearby art museum. You hurriedly take it from his hands if that would make him finally pay attention to your question.

“I know it’s hot,” you mutter, taking the pastry anyway. He’s insufferable. Even now, you can tell he’s doing this for show, making a big deal out of playing the doting boyfriend for the strangers milling about the museum garden. “Do you ever actually answer questions, or is that too much to ask?”

“Oh, I answer,” he breezily responds, unfolding a crumpled checklist from his coat pocket. “I’m just selective about when. Do you want to taste mine? I can taste yours too.”

“No thank you.”

Straightening the lapels of his gray coat, Jaemin fetches the brochure handed earlier to him out of his inner pocket and takes a quick look at it to make sure you checked out everything of interest in the area before entering the museum itself. “Now, do you want to check out the sculptures before we head to the main exhibit?”

The guy has a whole checklist of activities for the day. You’ve seen it. He purposely taped another page underneath just to scare you with its sheer length, but you’re seeing right through his tricks, the page is full of gibberish written just to take space. You’ve got your best frown on to keep the illusion of ignorance, hoping that you’d get bonus points for agreeing to go through the full contents of the list, both the real and the fake ones. 

But is it really an act? The occasional tidbits of satisfaction coming from beating Jaemin’s brilliant mind (not that you’d ever give him the credit for it) are hardly enough to keep you entertained throughout the day. When the activities you take on today are meant to be just that, entertaining. And romantic too. 

Now, were you a normal couple, a true couple, then maybe you’d be having fun now.

“Jaemin, I think partners are supposed to listen to each other. At the very least.”

He grins, entirely unbothered by your irritation. “Relax, Y/N. We’re supposed to look like we’re having fun. Couples don’t bicker this much in public, you know.”

“Maybe because real couples actually like each other.”

“And yet,” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “Here we are. The picture of romance.” Ah. He’s right, damn it.

“I only lowered my guard because these people don’t know us, stupid… Let’s get inside already!”

Hearing his low, annoying chuckle triggers the sensory neurons in your brain until a neat little image of his smirk is produced with near-perfect accuracy. Have you simply seen it too many times? There’s no escape even when you turn your back to him, great.

You grit your teeth but let him guide you down a quieter path, away from the crowds. It’s all part of the act, you remind yourself. Just one day of playing along, and people will stop speculating about your personal life. Totally worth it.

Right?

Inside the museum, the tension eases slightly. The museum is magnificent to explore with the many pieces of art it houses. There’s so much to see that you’d frankly not mind getting lost in here just to have an excuse to spend more time surrounded by art.

You have to admit, Jaemin chose the perfect dating spot. You’re not sure if it was based on your own preferences. Surely not. But you find yourself not minding it suddenly.

“Picture!” he announces, pulling you close before you can protest.

Hearing the signal, you instantly turn in the direction of the raised-up phone, smiling for the camera as Jaemin presses his face closer to yours.

“Oh, this is a good one, I’m definitely posting it. You look so in love.”

“I’m in love with this work, that’s it.” you say flatly, staring at the painting behind him.

“Uh-uh. That works for me too.” Jaemin replies while his fingers dance across the screen, likely typing some cheesy caption for the picture. A second later your own phone vibrates in your pocket, signaling that he posted the picture and tagged you in it, and you don’t even bother looking.

“At least you’re a natural, Jaemin.”

“What, in faking an expression? How are you so sure?”

You blink, meeting his gaze as some child holding a balloon separates the two of you for a mere second. Instinctively, you shorten the distance so you don’t lose Jaemin, looking for his hand to take hold of. You’ve already been through that today, linking hands in the crowds. And while there was no real need to do that right now, you just did that…

To the question in your eyes evoked from his last words, he smirks and adds, “There are pieces of art here that I look at with fondness just like you do.”

Your heart sinks for a moment, only to create palpitations that mess with your head. You have no idea where they came from or what evoked this feeling in your chest, but while looking anywhere but at Jaemin, your gaze falls on other couples passing by. You were instructed to watch them if you’re having trouble recreating the subtle romantic gestures that indicate dating. Advice from him no doubt, one that you wish you could forget because it’s too late telling your brain to forget what it’s been taught. But the question is, why the sudden turning of stomachs at the sight of them?

While failing to watch your step, you lose your balance and stumble on your own feet, meeting the hard ground hands-first. You feel eyes on you for a short moment; just a mere second any stranger might spare to witness the unfortunate event before moving on with their tour.

That’s it, except for Jaemin, who is there to pull you up in a manner of utmost care, dusting off your clothes, taking you to a more secluded area with benches to rest on and asking you at least three times if you’re alright before you can snap out of your surprised state and let out a murmur of affirmation.

In the whirlwind of emotions rushing through your slightly clouded mind, you put the embarrassment of your fall aside. As Jaemin turns your hand around to inspect it, you realize that no amount of hand-holding numbs your reaction to the touch of his warm hands. 

And no amount of his exaggerated lovey-dovey gestures of affection could prepare you for the look of genuine worry over something so insignificant on his face.

“You fell on your hands, they must be scrapped… let’s get them under cold water, it would wash away the dirt too.” 

“It’s okay I can do it myself.” You back away from Jaemin, running to take care of it.

And that’s when you realize it.

Pretending to be Jaemin’s partner might be the biggest mistake of your life.

Because it’s starting to feel a little too real.

When you exit the bathroom, Jaemin is waiting for you outside, arms crossed with an unreadable expression on his face. The two of you continue your museum date as normal, nothing out of the ordinary happening other than Jaemin just being Jaemin. 

When lunchtime rolls around, Jaemin takes you into the museum café, refusing to let you pay for anything even though he bought the museum tickets as well. Struggle as much as you want, Jaemin was pretty stubborn.

You and Jaemin sit across from each other, nursing cups of hot chocolate. The quiet buzz of conversation around you blends with the faint classical music playing overhead, the calmness contrasting your otherwise chaotic day.

You’re still nursing your wounded pride (and scraped hands) from earlier. Jaemin’s fussing had been embarrassing, sure, but also... oddly touching. It’s been messing with your head ever since.

“You’re being quiet,” Jaemin says, breaking the silence. He stirs his drink and watches you with another unreadable expression. “Not complaining. Unusual for you.”

“Just tired,” you mutter, avoiding his gaze. “This whole thing is exhausting.”

“Yeah?” He leans back, “What part? The fake dating, or me?”

“Both.”

His laugh is soft, almost self-deprecating. “Fair.”

A moment passes, and you realize he’s studying you. Not with his usual playful smirk, but something more serious. It’s unsettling and scary, like he’s peeling back layers you didn’t even know you had.

“You know,” he starts, voice quieter now, “you’ve always hated me.”

Your head snaps up. “What? I don’t—”

“Don’t lie. I noticed.” he cuts in, but there’s no malice in his tone. “It’s fine. I get it. I mean, I’m Na Jaemin, right? The playboy. The guy who’s ‘probably slept with half the school.’” He uses his fingers to air quote the phrase, lips forming a bitter smile. “That’s what people say, isn’t it?”

You feel a pang of guilt. It’s exactly what you’ve always thought, always assumed about him.

He continues, eyes fixed on his drink. “Funny thing is, that wasn’t true at first. I wasn’t like this in high school. Sure, I was flirty, but it was harmless, y’know? Then one day, someone started a rumor about me. Said I hooked up with some senior at a party.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t true, but people believed it. And once the rumors started, they didn’t stop. Girls came up to me and I just... didn’t say no.”

You blink, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. “Why didn’t you?”

“Why not?” His smile not breaking, “They already thought I was that guy. And honestly? It was easier to play the part than fight it. People liked the idea of me being the ‘fun, no-strings-attached’ guy. I became what they wanted.”

You’re quiet, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. All this time, you’d judged him without really knowing him. And now, sitting across from him, you realize how wrong you’d been.

“I’m sorry,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“For what?”

“For... hating you, I guess. I just—” You hesitate, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, searching for the right words. “I’ve never liked the whole ‘playboy’ thing. It feels... shallow. And I don’t understand how people can be so casual about it.”

Jaemin’s gaze softens. “That’s because it’s not your thing. And that’s okay.”

Your eyes lit up with shock. You definitely weren’t expecting Jaemin to be this receptive towards your criticisms of him. “I guess I’ve always judged people like you because I don’t... get it. Sex and dating just seem so complicated and messy. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

Jaemin tilts his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You’re ace, right?”

You nod, surprised he remembered. He must’ve heard it somewhere, you barely told anyone except for your close friends. Others just assumed, which was fine by you.

“That’s... honestly kind of cool,” he says, leaning forward. “I mean it. You don’t have to deal with all this shit. Expectations, drama, people using you for what they want. You just... are. I envy that.”

“You do?” The idea feels absurd. Jaemin, envying you?

“Yeah.” He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in it. “I’ve spent so much time being what other people expect. Sometimes I don’t even know who I really am. But you? You’re just you. That’s... rare.”

His words catch you off guard, leaving a strange ache in your chest. You wonder if he’s just been hiding behind a mask this whole time. Who really was the Na Jaemin sitting right in front of you right now? “Well,” you say softly, “I think you’re more than what people say about you.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Careful, Y/N. That almost sounded like a compliment. You’re supposed to hate me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you shoot back, but there’s no hostility in your tone.

For the first time, you see him for who he really is. Not Na Jaemin, the playboy, your rival… but just... Jaemin. And maybe, just maybe, you don’t hate him as much as you thought.

When the two of you finished your museum exploration, you found yourselves in the gift shop. The aisles were packed with trinkets, books, and stuffed animals, the kind of things that were charming but utterly unnecessary and overly expensive. You didn’t plan on buying anything, but Jaemin insisted he wanted to pick up something for a friend.

Shivering slightly, you rubbed your arms, trying to warm up in the chill from the air conditioning blowing down from the vent above.

“Cold?” Jaemin asked, his sharp eyes catching your sudden movement.

“Oh, just the A/C,” you replied quickly, waving him off, but you couldn’t stop the flush creeping over your cheeks.

“Do you want my coat?” He was already starting to remove his gray jacket, but you held up a hand.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you said hastily. “It’ll be warmer outside.”

Jaemin paused, then smirked. “Aren’t you glad your friends dragged you to that party?” He asked, standing right beside you now, picking up a penguin from the stuffed animal bin. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Absolutely not,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “Though I’ll admit, this has been... fun. Even if the ‘fake dating’ part threw me for a loop. And yes, he’s super cute. But penguins aren’t my favorite.” 

He raised an eyebrow, eyes burning into you, as he turned the penguin over in his hands. “Who said it was fake?”

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d heard right. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, just hummed and walked away, leaving you standing there with your arms crossed, frowning after him. What’s he playing at?

Trying to shake off the odd tension, you wandered to another shelf and found yourself staring at a tower of cell phone plushies. Your eyes landed on a bunny plush, adorable, with floppy ears, sparkling blue eyes, and a pink nose. You reached for it, but so did another hand.

“Oops—sorry,” you stammered, looking up to see Jaemin standing beside you again.

“Oh,” he said, his voice light, but his eyes were unreadable.

“I was just—”

“Which one did you want?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

“The bunny,” you admitted, pointing. “But it’s the last one, and if you wanted it—”

Before you could finish, he grabbed it.

“Actually, I did,” he said, pulling out his wallet and heading to the cashier.

You stood there, stunned and a little annoyed. Seriously? He’s that kind of guy?

As you stared forlornly at the remaining plushies: a raccoon, a squirrel, and a cat that weren’t nearly as cute. You sighed. It’s fine. It’s just a toy. But somehow, it still stung.

“Here.”

You turned to see Jaemin dangling the bunny plush in front of you, a playful grin on his face. “You—I thought you wanted it?” you said as you reached out to take it. The plush felt even softer than it looked.

“I did,” he said with a wink. “But I wanted to buy it for you.”

“I—thank you.” You stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling silly but also oddly happy. A big, goofy grin spread across your face as you hugged the bunny to your chest.

Jaemin chuckled softly. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“Shut up,” you fired back, but your cheeks still burned.

You started to turn away, but Jaemin stopped you with a gentle tug on your sleeve. His expression was different now, serious, almost nervous, as he looked at you.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach flipped. “What is it?”

“This... whole fake dating thing?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy. That was strange in comparison to his usual confidence. “It wasn’t just about my ex, or shutting people up. I—I’ve been watching you for a while. I mean, not in a creepy way,” he added quickly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I just... I’ve always been interested in you. You’re smart, funny, and you don’t care about impressing anyone. You’re... different. In a good way.”

Oh you weren’t expecting that. You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jaemin, I—”

“I know you have concerns,” he said, cutting you off gently. “About... your sexuality, and what people might think. But I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what the world expects or what people say. I care about you. And I’m not asking you to change or be anything other than yourself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. You didn’t know what to say. You’d spent so long assuming Jaemin was just a shallow playboy, someone who could never understand you. But now, looking into his eyes, you realized how wrong you’d been. Jaemin understood you way too well. Enough to the point where he was hitting all the right points of reassurance in your heart.

“I don’t know if I can be what you’re looking for,” you whispered.

He smiled softly. “You already are.”

For a moment, the world around you faded. The noise of the gift shop, the bustle of other shoppers. It was just you and Jaemin, and the quiet, fragile connection that had grown between you.

Maybe this wasn’t fake after all.

You realized just how much he’d been hiding. Jaemin, the playboy everyone admired, the guy who never seemed to take anything seriously, was opening up to you in a way that was raw, even vulnerable.

“Honestly?” you whispered, clutching the bunny plush to your chest. “I never thought someone like you would understand... someone like me.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. “I get that. I probably don’t fit the part, huh? But, Y/N, you’re incredible just as you are. I think it’s amazing that you know what you want and what you don’t want. I wish I’d figured that out sooner.”

You looked down, feeling way too emotional, “So, you really don’t... mind?”

Jaemin shook his head, his smile was gentle. “Not even a little. I’m here because I like you for who you are. You don’t need to be anyone else or change anything about yourself. I’m fully willing to love you. Just like this.”

His words settled over you, as warm and comforting as his coat might have been. The insecurities you’d held about relationships, about your identity, all the ways you feared you might not be enough for someone. Maybe never even find someone at all? They began to melt, replaced by a quiet sense of peace.

“So... if this isn’t fake, does that mean this is... this date is… real?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaemin smiled, reaching down to take your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours in a way that felt so natural it sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s as real as you want it to be. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, figuring this out together.”

Looking up at him, you felt something you hadn’t quite felt before. This wasn’t about conforming to anyone’s idea of love or romance. It was about connection. And standing there, surrounded by stuffed animals and museum souvenirs, you felt like you’d found something rare.

You squeezed his hand, a small smile breaking across your face. “Alright, Jaemin. Let’s give this a try. Just... don’t go stealing all the last plushies every time we’re out together, okay?”

He laughed, his grin brightening at your words. “Only if you agree to keep that bunny plush with you as a reminder.”

“Of what?”

“Of this moment. And of the fact that someone finds you absolutely perfect, exactly as you are.”

The two of you walked out of the gift shop hand in hand, leaving behind any doubts and stepping into something perfectly real.

PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000 @polarisjisung

[fandomfairyuniverse]

No because because in their first lives Tharn promised that in every life moving forward he’d take care of Phaya in in his current life he is always saving Phaya and doing everything to keep him safe even if that means not being with him and Phaya promised that he would always find Tharn in every life and in his current life he’s always going after Tharn and chasing him and looking for him and finding him and they keep their promises even lifetimes later and-

I need to lie down

[suiana]

have you ever imagined someone loving you so much that instead of lust they feel love? well look no more! because your yandere soulmate will actually love you so much that you'll start feeling worried for him!

he loves you in any shape and form. i mean, you two were fated for one another, there's no reason for him not to love and adore you, right?

he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like you're the one who breathed life onto this earth. his eyes hold nothing but excessive love and affection for you. sometimes, he feels like it's too much love! so much so that it overflows and ends up hurting you instead... but you forgive him right? you love him too, don't you?

he remembers all your past lives together, your past reincarnations... all so different, yet all so familiar. you were always beautiful and lovely, all the same traits that made him thank the gods he was your soulmate. but you were always so damn stubborn, no matter the lifetime.

you'd kick and fight against him, violently protest and reject the overwhelming love that he had for you. you'd always scream and cry, calling him horrible names that make his poor heart ache with pain.

he can't help it okay! he loves you so much that he just has to take extreme steps to keep you by his side! so what if he had to murder your old soulmate? it doesn't bother you right? or the fact that he has had to kidnap you and keep you chained to the bed so you wouldn't escape again? it's really not his fault!

if anything, it's your fault for being so perfect.

yeah, it's all your fault. if you weren't so fucking perfect he wouldn't feel the need to constantly hover around you to make sure you won't do anything stupid. if you weren't so perfect he wouldn't have to take your freedom away from you in each and every single lifetime he meets you and-

ah.

sorry.

he scared you again, didn't he?

no, no, no, he's not mad at you, don't worry.

he's just a little frustrated that you won't reciprocate his love willingly.

all lovers do, don't they? when their beloved is being difficult?

...

so just give into him already, won't you?

[jeonsweetpea]

The Moon Knows Our Secrets (1)

Exes to Lovers!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!OC | Soulmate!AU

genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers, vampire/werewolf hybrid (emphasis on werewolf), soulmates, forced proximity

rating: explicit

description: He doesn’t remember loving you. How could he, when you’re the one who erased his memories? You run into him a year later at a wedding. The year after that he’s reported missing and you go off to find him. Then you wonder: did he ever forget you?

word count: 9.1k

warnings: blood, blood-drinking, one injury, flirting, TXT is mentioned and they’re horny brats but protective!JK swoops in, ANGST, mentions of compulsion, past deaths, JK smokes for like, one second, fire, resentment, but trust me, they will fall for each other all over again, two-shot 💖

smut warnings: OC goes into HEAT at the worst time, kissing, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, (more intense smut to come in part 2)

a/n: This is an epilogue for my series Moonstruck (inspired by TVD), but it can be read as a STAND-ALONE! You do not have to read Moonstruck (but it will be more satisfying if you have 😉). I love this couple and they deserve their (steamy) happy ending. They both embody the “right person, wrong place.”

Part 1 | Part 2 |

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me. I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely. If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me. When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me. You’ll remember then. I love you, Jungkook.”

You first saw him again at a wedding.

When you arrive at the venue, your eyes scan the sea of strangers for him like an automated response. You clutch onto the chain of your purse, the tight squeeze in your chest never seeming to disappear. Once you’re sure of his absence, the tension in your shoulders fades.

Round tables are arranged around a central dance floor, so you sit at the closest one, joining in the crowd’s applause despite not knowing what’s happening. The happy couple is swaying to romantic jazz music played by the live band, their adoring smiles perfectly matched.

“What did I miss?”

Your old classmate chuckles when she notices your presence, using her fingers to count as she lists off her answers. “The ring bearer, flower girl, the da-da-da-da piano introduction, the vows, the kiss, the first dance—so pretty much everything. Surprised to see you here.”

So are you. It took you hours of hyping yourself up before deciding to attend. You never RSVP-ed properly, allocating all your time to getting ready instead. Not that you had anyone to impress, but it’s a wedding. Sweatpants weren’t going to cut it.

“Can everyone please have a seat? We’re going to hear the best man give his speech!” That authoritative voice belonged to Kim Namjoon, the headmaster of BTSU (Be The Supernatural University). His dimple smile emerges when he notices you and he waves excitedly, dropping the microphone in the process. 

You giggle. “See? I didn’t miss everything, Lia.”

She hands you a glass of champagne, then clinks the glass against your own. “Okay, Ms. Fashionably Late. At least you look hot.”

The guests take their seats while the couple sits at the head table near the dance floor. There’s a small stage next to them and on it is a microphone stand under a beautifully decorated archway. A blanket of silence washes over the crowd as anticipation rises, but the best man is nowhere to be found. Murmurs spread quickly as heads turn in confusion.

“I’m here, I’m here!”

You don’t have to look to know who that voice belonged to. The glass in your hand trembles, on the brink of shattering under your tightening grip. Your mouth parts open in shock, your heart rate beating so loudly that it rings in your ears, drowning out the noise of the crowd’s applause as the so-called best man gets on stage. 

Jeon Jungkook — your ex-boyfriend.

Could you even call him your ex? Your history was, in a word, complicated. Boyfriend and girlfriend weren’t labels you two were fortunate enough to share. Bound by trauma, forced into despair, crippled with pain — the “relationship” in question was toxic. 

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me…”

A hybrid had many advantages — compulsion included. With one look, you ordered him to forget having loved you and then left. Traveling the world healed you and the thought of returning to your college campus never once crossed your mind until a year later.

Your old professor sent you a text — a wedding invitation to be specific. Though the gesture was sweet, you preferred staying blissfully ignorant. You almost deleted it. However, F.O.M.O was a crippling feeling, so you ultimately gave in. 

You were aware the chances of running into Jungkook were high, but that’s why you arrived late on purpose. You had let your guard down too easily, assuming he might’ve left early or not bother showing up at all. What a fool. 

The fairy lights strung across the venue illuminate him with a gorgeous golden glow as he steps onto the stage. You hold your breath as the world seems to slow down, taking in his features. 

His hair used to be longer and shaggier; you teased him for having a mop-head back then (lovingly). Now it’s half long, with shaved sides and a slight mullet. He wore a simple white shirt, layered with a classic black blazer and matching dress pants. Several square box chains surrounded his neck, complimenting his silver hoop earrings and lip ring (when did he get that?). His accessories sparkle under the lights, almost blinding, as if he were a living filter. 

Damn. He’s only gotten more gorgeous. 

Jungkook quickly adjusts the microphone stand to his height, then presents a bunny-tooth grin. “Hello everyone! Sorry, I’m late. I had forgotten my script.” He shakes the index cards in his hands gently, causing a ripple of laughter through the crowd. “It’s an honor being both Hoseok and Yoongi’s best man.”

Jung Hoseok was your old classmate, who used to be the alpha of the werewolf pack senior year. But then along came Jungkook, who stole the title from beneath him after challenging him to a duel. Funny how he is now his best man. 

Min Yoongi was the one who invited you, a research assistant at your university. If you had to describe him in a phrase, it’d be: “Actions speak louder than words.” You knew his intentions when he sent the invitation, so you had to come and support him the same way he’s done for you. 

Jungkook peers down at his script before placing a hand on the microphone. 

“I’ve known Yoongi and Hoseok for years now and their love is truly special. They’re often private with their affection, but we know how they would go out of their way for each other. My favorite part is whenever Hoseok compliments Yoongi, he’d—”

“AaarrghhH!!!” The obnoxious scream is from Yoongi himself, who had stood up and faced away from the crowd. People crack up at his hilarity, including Hoseok who is clapping his hands like a seal. 

“Yes. That. Exactly that,” Jungkook says, followed by a soft chuckle. “The two play off each other well. Hoseok brings joy to everyone and it’s infectious. I’ve never seen Yoongi happier than when he’s with Hoseok.”

Yoongi rubs the nape of his neck, a shy smile gracing his features as he sits back down. Hoseok places his head on his partner’s shoulders, sighing in content. Jungkook flips to the next index card and clears his throat.

“Yoongi and Hoseok are people I like from the bottom of my heart. They’re like family, and I’m so glad to be a part of their story. We were able to come to where we are right now because everybody was all together.” His lips tremble slightly as he holds the corners of the card with both hands, tears slowly welling up in his eyes. His head hangs low for a moment but then he looks up, forcing a smile on his face. “Sorry, I’m getting emotional.”

You almost shout it’s okay! but nothing comes out. Fortunately, a couple of folks blurt out comforting words that make him laugh as he quickly wipes his tears away. He rolls his shoulders back and blows a small raspberry with his lips to reset. 

“These two have both helped me through so much. When I almost lost my life. When I lost my friends. When I wanted to give up on myself,” His eyes scanned across the venue as if simulating eye contact with each guest. “And especially when I experienced the biggest absence of my life with…”

His words are cut short at the same time your breath hitches. It’s a split second, but you’re sure. You’re sure his gaze fell on you, his expression stiffening slightly while you let out a silent gasp. The world seems to be at a standstill until he crumples the cards in his hand and tosses them aside. He lets out a half-hearted laugh, gesturing to the large projector screen he prepared earlier. 

“Enough about me!” he exclaims. “I made a compilation of the couple’s best moments. Enjoy!”

You don’t pay attention to the video playing despite the roaring laughter from the crowd. Someone shouts something about the couple wearing colorful animal sheet masks, but your eyes are glued to Jungkook. He exits the stage, heading back to his group of friends at the table furthest from yours. They give him a pat on the back and he’s back to smiling as if nothing happened. 

Was it your imagination? Maybe he wasn’t looking at you. You finish your champagne in one gulp, slamming the glass down without meaning to. The sharp sting in your palm makes you realize your actions as you groan, the deep cut across your hand oozing blood. 

“[Y/N], are you okay? Oh my gosh, here.” Lia is quick to grab the cloth napkin, wrapping it around your hand and tying a knot. 

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’ll heal anyway.”

“Still, how did this even happen? What’s got you so tense?”

You say nothing, but she follows your line of sight and purses her lips. “Are you looking at the wolves? Is it Jungkook?”

“No,” you say quickly. “I’m gonna go to the restroom and wash the blood off.”

Before she can interrogate you further, you make a break for it. It was difficult walking in your nude heels, each step feeling like you were sinking deeper into the grass. The fairy lights help you see in the dark as you pass by the greenery of the garden, the flowers being your favorite part. You’d stop to smell them but didn’t want the blood to stain their lovely petals. Your feet finally reach a cobblestone path and you see the restroom building up ahead. 

There’s a handwashing sink outside. Once you turn on the faucet, you unwrap the cloth around your hand and wash the excess blood away. The cut had partially healed already — another perk of hybrid blood — but it still felt nice.

You find yourself lost in thought as the cool water flows onto your hands. You tell yourself there’s no way Jungkook was looking at you. He doesn’t even know you. At least, not in the way he used to. 

“I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely.”

Ah. Right. You’ve been reduced to a mere stranger now. The depressing reality makes you sigh as you turn off the water. 

That’s when you hear it. Footsteps. Heavy ones that grow louder from behind you. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn around.

Jungkook is approaching you, his stride long and confident. Your brain must have been rewired to put him in slow motion because he’s like a model walking down a runway. You can’t believe your eyes and are torn between running away or staying put. He’s closer now. Your heart skips a beat, the anticipation crushing you. Stay put it is.

“If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me.”

Yet here he is. Approaching you. Had the compulsion not worked on him? Did he remember you all this time? Well, your answer comes when he walks right by you without sparing a glance as he enters the men’s restroom. You blink a few times, stunned by what took place.

Well, that proves it; the compulsion was still effective. You look at the bloody napkin in your hand, clutching it tightly. 

“What, is he blind? He didn’t even ask if I was okay. This is a huge red flag, literally!” You wave the fabric around like a crazed woman, having half a mind to chuck it across the building. After sulking for a minute, you compose yourself and prepare to head back.

That’s when an unpleasant smell creeps its way into your nose. It’s harsh, like the smell of acetone and burnt wood, and you cough uncontrollably. The acrid fumes are suffocating as you wander around the restrooms for the smell. 

“It’s coming from the men’s side…” you mumble to yourself. 

“When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me.”

Ignore it. It’s not your business. Yet your feet are already stomping inside, where your ex jolts in alarm at your sudden presence. 

“Hey, just because you’re a hybrid doesn’t mean smoking is okay!” The cigarette dangles from his mouth when his lips part in a small “o” shape, seconds from falling. You swipe it from him, drop it on the ground, and crush it under your heel. His doe eyes are larger than before, but your actions render him speechless. “It’s a gross habit and causes bad breath. So… yeah. Don’t smoke. Even if you’re practically immortal it’s not good for you.”

You spin around and close your eyes, cringing at your meddlesome behavior. You should leave before things escalate. 

“Are you okay?” Your eyes flutter open. He must think you’re deranged! “Your hand… is that blood?”

You look down, noticing the cloth in your hand was no longer white, but a deep crimson that seemed to permeate nonstop. 

“Oh, this is nothing. It’ll heal soon.”

He circles and gets in front of you, holding out his hand. “May I take a look?”

Whatever compels you to give your hand to him is a mystery, but you do it. He removes the cloth first, then inspects your palm, concern etched in his features. Blood continues to ooze out of the gash, but all you can focus on is the warmth of his hand enveloping your cold one. It reminds you of holding a hot cup of coffee in the morning except in this case, your cortisol levels are spiking. 

“It’s not good for you, you know,” he says with a soft smile. He directs his gaze from his hand to your own. “Getting cuts on such pretty hands. Who did this to you?”

If you had a brain, you didn’t anymore. You feel it short-circuiting, the hints of protectiveness in his voice setting sirens off in your mind. “No one… I accidentally broke a glass.”

It comes out as a whisper, but he acknowledges your response with a gentle “hmm.”

“This won’t do. It’s not healing fast enough,” His eyes shift up to meet your own. “You’re practically dripping in my hand.”

How can he say such things to you with such a straight face? The double entendre is blatant, but calling him out for it would only expose your impure thoughts.

“Shall I clean you up?” You don’t miss how he says “you” and not “it.” His irises glow a ruby red, matching his blood-shot sclera. Protruding veins appear under his eyes as he opens his mouth wide enough to exhibit his sharp fangs. It’s a hauntingly beautiful sight.

“That’s okay, you don’t—you don’t have to.” 

“Maybe I want to. Besides… I was smoking to curb my cravings. You took that away, so I need something else to satisfy me.”

You gulp. “And you think my blood will do that?”

He flashes you a smirk. “I’d like to find out. If you’ll let me.”

He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. He can’t remember. Right? 

You agree with a soft “okay” and Jungkook doesn’t hold back. He sticks his tongue out, licking up the blood that overflowed onto his thumb first before following the stream up to your palm. He presses his lips onto the gash and sucks, earning a small gasp from you. This catches his attention, and he stares at you. His pupils are dilated, the primal look in his gaze so enrapturing. 

The pit of your stomach is on fire as he continues feeding from the palm of your hand. His tongue comes out to play, swiping back and forth, leaving no spot untouched. It tickles, but you’re too tense to move a muscle. 

Then he moans. It’s low at first, but then he closes his eyes and does it again. This time it’s more guttural, and he presses harder against you like he was starved.

“Ow,” you say, wincing when his fangs pierce your skin. It coaxes more blood to come out, and he visibly shudders.

“Sorry, I—Fuck,” His breath is uneven as he pants, drunk on your taste. He furrowed his eyebrows like he was mad, fighting against his primal urges to devour you whole. “I’ll be more careful. Please let me finish, please.”

Oh my god. He’s begging you. It’s too adorable to resist. He opens his eyes when you don’t reply, and you quickly give him your consent. His technique, if you can even call it that, grows sloppy as he rushes to clean up the mess he made. It’s like he was embarrassed, which makes your heart grow fonder. 

Once he finishes, his lips come together and make a loud smooching sound. He kisses the spot once again, lovingly, and then pulls away. You’re shocked to see the cut is no longer there. 

“Delicious. Sweet, with a hint of spice.”

You’re flattered by the handsome blood sommelier but retract your hand, hiding it behind your back while clearing your throat. 

“Um… Thank you.” That sounded more lame out loud than in your head, but nothing else seemed appropriate. 

Jungkook rubs the excess blood from the corner of his lips with his thumb. “It was my pleasure.” He sucks it and then releases his thumb with a loud pop.

Discomfort washes over you with how quiet the restroom gets, but you don’t break the silence. Instead, you turn around and head for the exit. 

“You’re [Y/N], right?” Three steps. That’s how far you got. “We were in the same year together.”

You grab onto the chain of your purse again. “Yeah. We were.”

And you leave it at that. 

You walk around to ease the buried feelings threatening to bubble up to the surface. Aside from the reception in the garden, the rest of the campus is quiet. Not a single light is on from the buildings you pass, your heels following the moonlight instead.

You pass the library, the gym, and the fine arts hall, but your steps halt at the girls’ dormitory. Memories flood your mind one by one: decorating your room, staying up late studying for exams, and the time when Jungkook slept over and—no. Shit. Don’t think about a love that’s lost. 

A weighted sigh comes as you sit on the steps, giving your feet a much-deserved break. You hug your knees, tuck your head down, and rest it in your folded arms as if you wanted to hide from the world. Why the hell did you think coming here would be easy?

His touch lingers in your mind as you replay the moment. The way he held your hand, the way he was concerned for your well-being, and the way he fed off your blood was far more intimate than you expected. Then he said your name.

It ignited a yearning you thought you had suppressed.

“I should leave…” you say out loud to no one in particular. 

“And miss the group picture?”

You lift your head slowly like you were caught red-handed committing a heinous crime. You’re greeted by pointed black dress shoes, black dress pants, a white shirt and black blazer, silver necklaces, and soft doe eyes that could melt anyone’s heart. 

“Jungkook…”

His eyes light up, a tinge of rouge dancing across his cheeks as he slips his hands into his pockets. “So you do remember me.”

How could I ever forget? “Well yeah… we were in the same year together.”

He scrunches his nose, amused at your usage of his past words. “That’s it? We were sparring partners, we went on missions together, and I’m pretty sure you saved my life by turning me into a hybrid,” Your jaw falls to the ground while his lips curve into a playful grin. “Ring a bell?”

The logistics of your compulsion weren’t specific as to how much Jungkook would remember. Then again, you didn’t erase his memory of your existence, so it’s natural he would remember some basic things. 

“Wow, you have a good memory. Um… yeah, I guess that covers the extent of our relationship.”

He quirks his eyebrow, sounding far too happy for your liking as he says, “We… have a relationship?”

You put your hands out in a stop motion and shake them in a panic. “No! Not at all. I–I meant that’s all we are to each other. Nothing more, nothing less. Just old classmates.”

“I see. What a shame though. I feel like we would have… should have gotten to know each other more back then.”

His voice has a trace of longing, but you dismiss it for friendly conversation. “Really? I was too focused on my studies anyway. You wouldn’t have liked me.”

He nods. “Considering how you stomped out my cigarette? Yeah, probably not.”

You scoff, a playful glint in your eyes. “Excuse me for looking out for you.”

“Never asked you to, but I’ll admit, I enjoy the attention.” You both laugh and then he extends his hand out to you. “Come on. Let’s go take the group picture together.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m not fond of pictures. Yoongi and Hobi don’t even know I’m here, so it’s not like they’ll notice.”

“I’ll notice,” You stare at him, watching his smile fade and how serious his demeanor becomes. “Your absence is significant, especially to those who care about you. They’ll remember it for the rest of their lives.”

You are about to speak when he adds, “Besides, the formation is off and we need one more person to fill in the gap.”

With a roll of your eyes, you swat his hand away and stand. “Alright, I get it. Let’s go.”

He smiles, puts his hands back in his pockets, and leads the way back. You follow him to the garden where guests are lined up in neat, staggered rows. Most of them have their arms crossed, some tapping their feet anxiously, while the rest have their hands on their hips. Even the main couple in the front row are mouthing words you can’t hear, but the way Yoongi slaps a hand to his forehead makes you aware of his distress.

“Oh!” Hoseok shouts with a jump, pointing his finger in your direction. “They’re here!”

Everyone expresses their relief with a “thank goodness” or “about time” as you and Jungkook make your way over. 

“You found her!” Namjoon says, holding up his hand for a high-five. Jungkook walks by too fast to notice, so you high-five him to ease his embarrassment.

“Wow, is that [Y/N]? You look incredible.” The man next to Namjoon gives you two thumbs up and you smile at the compliment. 

“Jin…” You can’t help but hug him tight and he reciprocates. Kim Seokjin aka Jin was the head witch on campus and counselor. You’ve confided in him for years and seeing him again almost brings tears to your eyes.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough.” Yoongi pats Jin’s back, a signal to release his hold on you. You laugh and then embrace him next, earning an obnoxious groan, but the fond smile on his face shows his true emotions. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Thank you for inviting me.”

You stop hugging him to see Hoseok with his arms out already, his heart-shaped grin wide.

“Come here~,” You let out an “oof” sound from how tight he squeezes you. “We had no idea you were here! Jungkook convinced the cameraman to wait until he found you.”

You let him go and look over to Jungkook, who clears his throat as he looks off to the side. The apples of his cheeks are rosy, which you find endearing. 

“Here, stand in the front row next to me,” Hoseok says, gesturing to the spot between him and Jungkook. Jungkook takes a large step to the right, allowing enough space for you to squeeze in.

“Alright, now that we finally have everyone here…” the cameraman says out loud, throwing a harsh glare in your direction. You give him a sheepish grin in return. “Everyone needs to scoot over to my left please.”

The crowd obeys, but the cameraman’s displeased frown remains. “Now everyone needs to squeeze closer together.”

There’s some shuffling and you bump into Hoseok after Jungkook’s shoulder bumps into yours. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. You tell him it’s okay.

The cameraman crosses his arms. “Come on, you guys. Act like you like each other! Closer!”

Everyone scooches in again, but Jungkook’s hand brushes against yours. The touch is electrifying, and you forget how to breathe. You can’t process your emotions as the cameraman orders the guests on your side to turn their bodies inwards at an angle. Jungkook exhales and his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You feel your palms start to sweat. 

“Three, two, one, smile!” You put on your most picture-perfect smile, the flash nearly blinding you. “One more! This time do a silly pose!”

You observe what others choose for their pose. Bunny ears are common, heart poses are also popular whether using arms or hands. Some stick their tongues out while others fake a dramatic gasp. You shift in your position when your heels betray you and you stumble backward.

As if on cue, a pair of arms catch you and you’re dipped like you’re in a dance class with Jungkook’s face peering down at you. His sweet cologne wafts into your nostrils, a nice blend of amber and rose. These moments only happen in movies — or so you think — yet he’s a fantasy that somehow becomes your reality. 

The camera shutters and captures your deer-in-the-headlights expression and Jungkook’s, who mirrors after you. It makes the cameraman let out a hearty laugh, and he’s not sure who the real married couple is.

“Are you okay?”

You nod and he helps you regain stability. Your hand touches your face, feeling the heat radiating off your cheek. The cameraman dismisses everyone and your friends jump at the opportunity to hound you with questions. 

Hoseok’s eager to go first. “Whatcha been up to, [Y/N]? It’s been so long since we’ve all been together.”

“Just traveling, not much,” you reply, forcing the muscles in your mouth to cooperate into a believable smile. 

“Hey, that’s her business. Don’t be nosy,” Namjoon interjects. Yoongi and Jin give each other a knowing look.

“You’re just saying that because she communicates with you the most,” Jin teases. 

“I mean, I was her mentor… can’t help it if I’m her favorite.” He pats his puffed-out chest twice, proud as he winks at you. You giggle and Yoongi joins in the conversation.

“Okay, if anyone’s her favorite, it’s actually me. But anyway,” he tilts his head towards the bar, “help yourself to a drink.”

“Ooh, I will. Do you have any recommendations?” you ask. 

“Do you want something strong? Fruity?”

“Get her what Jungkook got,” Namjoon says. Jungkook stands off to the side, his jaw clenches at his name being mentioned. “You like peach-flavored things, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Because he told me…” He notices the group shooting glares at him like daggers. It reminds you of when an idol spoils their next comeback by accident. “... Told me it was delicious and that anyone would like it. It goes down smoothly. Very yummy. Hah. Hahaha! Is that a saxophone?”

He leaves the group in a hurry with Jin chasing after him yelling, “No! Leave the sax alone! I’m not paying for damages!”

Awkward glances are exchanged between Hoseok and Yoongi, a silent two-player game of telepathy you weren’t a part of. You can’t compel Hoseok, but Yoongi’s human. One look and you’d know what he was thinking, but that’d be highly inappropriate to do that to the groom at his wedding. 

“I’ll order my own,” you tell the couple and they wave goodbye. Jungkook’s already retreated to his friends, much to your relief. 

Once you’re at the outdoor bar, your mood lifts upon seeing the bartender. She puts down the glass she was drying and rests her hands on the countertop.

“Well if it isn’t the original hybrid queen herself.”

The bartender is young, her oval face and sharp jawline giving her a cute, handsome aura. Her hair is short, about shoulder-length, and straight. Her eyes are large, emphasized by her dramatic makeup to draw you in until you’re lost in them. 

“Hi, Ryujin. Wow, I haven’t seen you in forever.” She had a white shirt underneath her black vest; you think it suits her tom-boyish charms well.

“Since vampire ability class, I know. What can I get you, beautiful?”

The smirk she sends you has your nerves sparking, and the palms of your hands sweaty. It was different when a girl complimented you. It felt more believable, flattering even. 

You shrug in response to maintain a calm demeanor. “Hmm… I don’t know. Maybe something fruity? Citrusy?”

She nods, grabbing a shaker and a bottle of liquor under the counter straight away. You watch as she juggles the two items in the air, covering your mouth at the thought of gravity ruining her trick. However, she caught them both with ease, moving at such a fast speed as she concocted your beverage. It’s an elegant performance, her movements fluid like it’s an art. She finishes by topping off your glass with an orange slice.

“Here you go,” She slides the glittery pink drink over, and you take a sip, allowing the fruity taste to coat your tongue. “Matches your dress.”

You smile at the thoughtful gesture. “It’s good. Tastes like peaches and grapefruit. What’s it called?”

“It’s something I came up with. I wouldn’t mind sharing the recipe with you after the event’s over.”

You don’t miss the flirty tone in her words and can only laugh. She was so refreshing and has always stuck up for you in the past when others called you stuck-up for being a hybrid. Who knew she would end up flirting with you at a wedding years later?

“So? What do you say?” she asks, her eyes brimming with hope. You take another drink and finish the whole thing despite your shaky hands. She gives you a fond smile. “If I’m being too forward, tell me.”

“No, I’m just nervous,” you blurt out, setting the glass down. “You’re really pretty.”

“Is that so?”

You’re about to respond when you feel your temperature rise. You clasp a hand to your forehead, which goes from warm to scalding in seconds. Sweat beads form around your temples as your breathing becomes harsher. You rest your elbow on the counter to keep yourself balanced, but your legs are burning too. It was like someone lit a torch from beneath you, cooking your flesh inside out. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Ryujin asks. You shake your head and your vision blurs, the lights behind her looking like a bokeh image. She hands a bottle of water to you, and you gulp it down, yet the fever persists and you feel worse. 

Ryujin sees your eyes widen in alarm as you peer down at your dress. She inspects it too, but doesn’t see anything abnormal. You rub your thighs together. 

“Fuck… I think I’m in heat,” you tell her. Your hand rummages through your purse and then you curse again, frustrated. “I’m out of suppressants!”

Ryujin snaps her fingers when a lightbulb goes off in her head. “Ask Lia.”

“Good idea.”

You blink to wet your eyes, regaining clarity of your surroundings before heading to Lia on the dance floor. She was all smiles with a guy until you bumped into her, your darn heels being the bane of your existence.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” you quickly say, “I need your help.”

She takes one look, excuses herself, and brings you to a quieter space. Her hand reaches into her clutch and pulls out a lace handkerchief, dabbing the sweat off your forehead. Her touch is gentle and she asks quietly, “Are you in heat?”

Lia and Ryujin were best friends. Your sole encounters with her were because of Ryujin by extension, but even back then, you knew she was sweet. Wolves often looked down upon her because of her doll-like, docile appearance. However, she had enough balls to find friends in other cliques and was, what people say, a girl’s girl. 

“Yes, I feel like I’m dying. Ryujin told me to ask if you have suppressants.”

“I don’t. Do you not track your cycle?”

“I’m a hybrid! It’s random for me!” 

She grimaces, the pity in her eyes inevitable. “I’m sorry, I forgot. But you need to get out of here. Do you know how many horny young wolves are here with zero self-restraint?”

You shift your weight and a pool of discharge releases in your panties, the sticky sensation making you cringe. Lia brings out a travel-sized perfume spray and spritzes your entire body. A wheeze is forced out of you from the potent floral scent, but at least it will cover your pheromones long enough for a distraction.

“Hey everyone! The fireworks are starting soon, let’s go to the front of the school and watch!” Hoseok has his hands cupped around his mouth to carry his voice through the venue, catching the attention of all guests. Lia holds both your hands, looking you dead in the eye with a straight face.

“There. Use this time to find suppressants or get out of here. The perfume won’t last very long.”

“Thanks, Lia, I will.” 

While the crowd heads towards the front, you rush back to the restroom building. You’re a panting mess once inside, but you go into a stall, shut it, and pull down your undergarment. The fabric is soaked in slick and has a hefty weight—you have no choice but to discard it.

Grabbing toilet paper, you clean yourself up as best as you can. Then you step out, wash your hands, and exit the building.

“Hey there.” You almost topple backward from the sudden intrusion. Three guys are in front of you, all wearing the same, smug grin. They’re young, probably younger than you, but one thing’s for sure—they’re werewolves. 

There’s a particular scent that emits from wolves. It’s earthy, like a pine tree, and you’d usually find it comforting but now? Fear crawls up your spine like a spider has latched onto you, its legs creeping up your back in a spot you can’t smack away.

The one in the middle had greeted you first. He has a youthful face, and sculpted cheekbones, which are easy on the eyes. Speaking of, that was his most striking feature. They are almost cat-like (ironically) with how wide and long they are. 

“Are you lost? Everyone’s watching the fireworks,” he says, his thumb hiked over his shoulder. You don’t respond. “Ah, I’m Yeonjun. This is Beomgyu and that’s Soobin.”

Soobin is the tallest. He shows off his dimple smile upon being introduced, which seems pure, but the way his irises shifted to goldenrod says otherwise. Beomgyu, on the other hand, had the most innocent baby face you’ve ever seen. However, you don’t miss the way he licks his lips while giving you a once-over.

“I’m [Y/N]...” You don’t know why you give them your name, but it slips out. Maybe you hoped playing along would lead them to spare you. 

“Oh!” Soobin says, his index finger pointing up at the discovery. “You’re the original hybrid the professors rave about!”

“Half-vampire, half-werewolf, right?” Beomgyu asks. Your double moon necklace glows as you form your fingers into a claw shape behind your back. A small flame ignites and you hold it there, waiting for the right opportunity. 

“Yeah. I guess,” you say. “Why don’t you boys go watch the fireworks? I’ll catch up.”

“Nonsense! As gentlemen, we should escort you. Unless… you’d rather do something else. Here. Now.” Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, but you scowl in response. 

“No thanks.”

Soobin takes a step forward. “Is there anything else we can help you with?”

Beomgyu takes two. “I’m sure the three of us can be of use to you.”

It’s not until Yeonjun approaches you that you cower, stepping backward until you’re stopped by the water fountains. “No need to be shy. No one’s around.”

Your blood is boiling, though you’re not sure if it’s from your heat or rage. What’s worse is you’re not mad at them; you’re mad at yourself. Their words spurred you on as arousal drips down your thighs, a sign of your body’s betrayal. You fear if this escalates, they’ll figure out you’re not wearing anything underneath. 

“Get. Back.” You reveal the burning flame in your palm, the heat emanating off of it close enough to Yeonjun’s face. He jumps back and places a hand on his chest.

“Whoa! She’s feisty. Or should I say… fiery.”

“Maybe we should head back. She can do magic. I thought hybrids don’t know magic,” Soobin whispers. Yeonjun laughs at the ridiculous suggestion, shoving his friend for his cowardice as Beomgyu inspects him for injuries. 

“Doesn’t matter. Look at her state now.” He points in your direction, seeing how you’re barely able to stand. Your breaths are quick, shallow and your heart is thumping around like it’s going to burst out of your rib cage. The fire in your hand diminishes to a mere flicker, and then it’s out. You try to bring it back with the flick of a wrist, but all that emits are tiny sparks. Shit. I haven’t been practicing long enough.

Your womanhood is craving something, anything to alleviate the agony. It’s screaming for release, and you hold your abdomen as a sudden cramp pains you horribly. Human females experience this type of thing monthly and you have to hand it to them. This type of pain requires endurance and fucking sucks. 

You fall onto all fours, clutching your heart which is seconds away from bursting. It’s beating so loud, you can’t even hear the vulgar things the youngins are saying as they rush over. Soobin grabs your right arm; Yeonjun has the other.

You thrash in their clutches, but they only mock you with their boisterous laughter as they force you to your feet.

“Hey, hey! We’re just trying to help,” Soobin says. 

“Unless you’d rather be on all fours,” Yeonjun teases. Beomgyu bends down to your eye level, a crooked smile on his dainty face, the true embodiment of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

 “You’re pure temptation, you know that?” He leans close, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Give up. Don’t put up a fight.”

“I don’t consent,” you say, a harsh bite in your words.

Soobin squeezes your arm, almost crushing it in his large hands. “Why? Is it because we’re young?”

“It’s clear you’re horny… we are too. Come on,” Beomgyu pleads. “We’ll take good care of you. Teach us what you like.”

“Yeah. And we’ll do the same.” Yeonjun holds your hand, inspecting it closely. “So soft. I bet your hand would feel so good around my—“

“Get your hands off her before I bite them off.”

Dizziness overwhelms you, so all you see is a blurry figure behind Beomgyu, and you shake your head to come to your senses. Once the man’s face comes into focus, relief washes over you, sending signals for your brain to let down your guard. The energy you so desperately clung to has depleted, so you close your eyes as your limbs turn into jelly.

Five seconds pass and the boys’ hold on you is gone. Someone else catches you before you faint, his scent familiar and comforting. 

“I got you,” he says as he lets you lean against his body. 

“Jungkook…”

“Can you stand?” You don’t know but nod anyway. “Good. Get behind me. You don’t want to see this.”

His broad back shields you from the three wolves, so you don’t even see the damage he inflicted upon them. Yeonjun was thrown into a tree a hundred feet away, the impact so potent that it split in half. Soobin and Beomgyu were fortunate not to collide into anything after being catapulted… except for each other. 

Soobin lands on top of Beomgyu and the smaller boy groans, pushing him off in a huff. He stands first and helps Soobin after. 

“Hey, we didn’t do anything wrong!” Yeonjun shouts as he scrambles to his feet, flaring his nostrils. “You and I both know she’s a bitch in heat!” 

You cling onto Jungkook’s blazer, and he looks over his shoulder.

“Is he right?” You don’t know if he asks to be polite because even you can smell your essence leaking. You hide your face in his back, flustered, but he feels you nod.

He redirects his attention back to the wolves. “That doesn’t give you the right to touch her. I suggest you leave before I make it physically impossible.”

Soobin scoffs while Beomgyu rolls his eyes. Yeonjun’s fuse was already lit and Jungkook’s sure there’s smoke coming out of his ears. You hear him crack his knuckles, the silence that follows deafening as you hold your breath in anticipation.  

“It’s three against two. Well, three against one, really,” Soobin says, laughing like he’s already won. 

“All I see is three smooth-brained pups who are pissing me off.” Jungkook’s eyes shift to a fiery goldenrod, the corner of his lips twitching as he smirks. “You’re aware that [Y/N] isn’t the only hybrid… right?”

You don’t see it, but their faces pale in comparison to earlier. Beomgyu covers his mouth, Soobin’s eyes widen, and Yeonjun growls. 

“There were rumors about more than one hybrid existing, but I didn’t think they were true,” Beomgyu says in a hushed tone. 

“She turned him? Fuck, they’re bonded then,” Soobin says. Yeonjun waves him off in a dismissive manner. 

“I don’t give a fuck. She’s not marked. We can take them.”

Jungkook has his fists up and changes into a fighter stance, but he feels you press your forehead against his back. It’s a searing sensation that scorches him even through the two layers of fabric he had on. He turns around and holds you by the shoulders.

“Hey, stay with me,” he begs. Your head is lolling back and forth as if you were inebriated. 

“It’s so hot… I’m too hot… I hate this, I hate this. Please… I need to cool down,” you beg. Jungkook takes a peek at the time on his watch, then bites his lower lip.

“Okay,” he whispers. “When I count to three, I need you to hold your breath. Can you do that for me?”

You mumble something Jungkook believes is a “yes” based on the beginning /y/ sound. 

“Three… two…”— he looks up —“one!”

A firework shoots up into the night sky, painting it with an explosive rainbow of sparkles. You cover your sensitive ears, but make sure to hold your breath as Jungkook uses his enhanced speed to whisk you away. More fireworks go off, muffling your tracks and making the youngins work harder to find you. 

However, Jungkook’s skills are unmatched. He sprints to the side of the school where the mountains are, and they follow suit. At the last second, he pivots and heads to the secluded area on the opposite side, where the lake is. 

The last memory you had here was something you blocked out to spare your mental health. You had almost died. But now this place was going to save you, funny enough. If you think about it, the lake had more happy memories than bad. This was where Namjoon trained you before you trained Jungkook.

You can picture it now as if it was yesterday. He, a newly turned werewolf, scared of what’s to come in his new life, and you, the school prodigy who had a crush on him.

Jungkook jumps off the dock with you in his arms, the splash overshadowed by the firework’s detonation. The cool water refreshes your sweltering body as you close your eyes, submitting to it. For a moment you don’t care about anything. Not how your makeup is smeared, how your curls are undone, or how your dress is ruined.

You feel strong arms hold you close, and an overwhelming sense of longing hits you in the gut. God, you missed him so much. Even without his memories, he still cares for you. Hell, he went out of his way to protect you.

Just when your lungs are on the verge of giving out, you’re pulled up to the surface. Your eyes flutter open as you rub the water off your face. Jungkook coughs, then cups your face with both hands.

“Are you okay?”

You take in his appearance for what feels like an eternity. His brown eyes twinkle from the moonlight, so beautiful and full of worry. You find it amusing how his hair is stuck to his forehead, the strands partially obstructing his view. Your hand pushes it out of the way without thinking like muscle memory, causing his breath to hitch.

“Thanks to you.”

Fireworks are still going off in the distance, illuminating you two in the crystal-clear water. Jungkook slowly removes his hands from you.

“Good. I um… don’t hear them anymore. They must’ve left. And the water should keep your scent hidden for now.”

“That’s a relief.” Jungkook places the back of his hand against your forehead but retracts it quickly as if he touched a hot stove. 

“Ow, oh my god. You’re still burning up!”

How naive were you to think it’d be over? You’ve experienced this once before, but that was with your first ex, who was at your beck and call for sex whenever you needed it. You couldn’t ask that of Jungkook. Not after everything that’s happened.

“I’ll figure something out. You’ve done a lot for me already and your clothes are wet.”

“I don’t give a damn about my clothes. Tell me how I can help you.”

*BOOM*

A red heart-shaped firework went off as you two stared at each other. Your gaze flickers from his eyes to his luscious lips and he doesn’t miss it. Maybe you don’t want him to.

“Why do you want to help me? We… We’re not that close.”

“Well… the thing is… I-I just…” He is so freakin’ cute. You might die from how endearing he is before your heat destroys you first. “Because.”

“Because?”

*BOOM*

“Because it’s finally just you and me.”

His answer is simple. There shouldn’t be any underlying connotations and yet, it reminds you of a past conversation. 

“We’re in this together. You and me. Okay?”

“Is it really you and me…”

“What do you mean?”

“Will it ever be? Just you and me?” 

“Now tell me what you need. Use me.”

Your pussy is throbbing so much that it’s agonizing. You just need a quick release, then you’ll be sane enough to go home without collapsing. 

“This feels…” So right, you think. “Wrong.”

His hands sneak around your waist. “Then let’s misbehave.”

He hoists you up onto the edge of the dock without warning as if you weigh nothing, and a grunt leaves his lips. It’s far too sexy to ignore, and your mind craves to hear it again. Then he places his hands on either side of your thighs and pulls himself up halfway out of the water, his face now directly in front of yours. 

“Tell me what you need. How can I please you?”

Fuck. You bite your lower lip when you realize the dock isn’t that tall—he’s at the perfect height to carry out the desires you’ve been suppressing. “I need to come…”

A water droplet falls off his button nose when he chuckles. “How do you want to come?”

You stare at his lips, which are thin yet plump at the same time, his lower lip being the bigger half. You think back to earlier when he sucked your palm. 

 “I want you to eat me out…”

He moves fast, almost like he knew what you’d say. His grip on the dock loosens, and he plops back into the lake but grabs your ankles, pulling you forward until your bottom is perched on the very edge. He spreads your thighs and rests his head between them, looking up at you like you were worth the entire universe. 

“Why don’t you lift your dress for me, gorgeous?”

You’re unsure what’s louder — the fireworks or your heart rate. If he keeps speaking to you in that low dialect, you may come right now. Your fingers bunch up the fabric at the hem and you slowly pull it up, exposing your pussy to his feasting eyes. 

“Fuck, what a beautiful pussy.”

You take two fingers and glide it up your folds, coating it in your slick. Jungkook watches, unsure of what you are going to do next. You lean forward, cupping his face with your other hand with a naughty glint in your eyes.

“Open.” He obliges, and you stick your coated fingers in his mouth. A muffled groan comes out as he sucks your fingers, his tongue swirling around so nothing goes to waste. “Good boy.”

You remove your fingers and he’s practically drooling, his eyes a bit crazed from your addictive taste.

“Please let me pleasure you, please.”

You don’t answer and run a hand through his damp hair, stopping at the back to grip it tight as you guide his head closer to where you need him most. He peers up at you adoringly when you hold him an inch away.

“Please me then.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His tongue licks a stripe on your sopping cunt, earning a shudder from you. Your thighs squeeze his head like a reflex, which only spurs him on to press his mouth harder against you. He begins to lap up your juices like a dog and you throw your head back, moaning at how insanely good it felt. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer if possible, the tight hold giving him a tinge of pain that ignites his carnal desires. He slurps your pussy like it was his last meal on death row, slithering his arms underneath your knees and holding your thighs hostage. You don’t know which noise was most obscene—your moaning or Jungkook’s.

Sneaking your free hand down, you use your forefinger and middle finger to spread your pussy lips wider. Jungkook’s excited and sinks his tongue as deep as it would go. You’re impatient now, riding his face as he tongue-fucks you. 

“Fuck, you’re so good to me, yes—oh god…” You don’t have it in you to say anything more coherent except for broken moans. Jungkook pauses for a second, and you whine at the loss of contact. Then you’re being stretched out as his two fingers submerge into you, nearly knocking the breath out of you. 

You lean back on your forearms as he begins to piston them into you, your wetness making it easy—too easy even. They slip out when he speeds up, and he makes up for it by eating you out and sinking his fingers back in simultaneously. 

You’re shaking, unable to hold yourself up any longer. Your back rests on the wooden planks as Jungkook flicks your clit with his tongue, his fingers drilling into you at a brutal speed and brushing your sweet spot. 

You see the last of the fireworks show go off, a beautiful explosion of silver sparkles and stars, as your orgasm finally comes. You arch your back and scream, but Jungkook doesn’t slow down. He can feel how tight your walls are constricting around his fingers and knows you need a few more seconds of bliss to be fully satisfied. 

Overstimulation was always a gamble. If pushed too far, you’d be in pain. But most of the time you welcome it. One second you want the pleasure to stop building, but then you crave that ache of clenching so hard until your body gives out. 

Jungkook stops again. This time he pulls himself out of the water completely and hovers over your body. His fingers plunge into you again, his speed relentless, and you swear you’re seeing stars (or maybe that’s the fireworks who knows). Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you say his name like a mantra.

“Come for me, beautiful. I want you dripping in my hand again.”

Your eyes are wide when warm lips are pressed against your own. But you submit and savor it, having missed his touch. Combining that with the way he curls his fingers inside makes you squirt. Hard. 

Your entire body convulses and you can’t even scream because Jungkook is determined to swallow them. The limitation only makes you come harder than before. Then again, you’re not sure if this is a second orgasm or a drawn-out first one. 

The involuntary gushing is an indescribable sudden wave of pleasure. You feel so relieved from the release, pushed to tears at how good it felt. Jungkook pulls away a centimeter to let you breathe, and you submit to the foreign feeling.

Oh my god, he made me squirt. I didn’t even know that was possible. 

He pulls his soaked fingers out and resumes kissing you, moving his lips in rhythm to yours. It’s so natural, almost like he’s done this before. Well, he has, but it felt so right. So loving. So… intimate. 

You place a hand on his chest and give him a gentle push. He pulls back a little, a melancholy look passing his face. 

“Will you stay?”

You can’t. He’s not supposed to be tangled up with you again. You erased his love for you for a reason; it wasn’t the right time. Any decisions made till now were because of your heat and your brain was finally back in command. 

“I can’t.”

He caresses your cheek. “Why not?”

Because I’m not ready to love you the way you deserve. Because I love you so much that I’m afraid things will fall apart again. 

“Because we don’t know each other,” You push him off you and stand, trying not to slip. Jungkook’s hands were already in position to catch you if you did. “Not really.”

As you walk away, he says something so chilling that it crystalizes your blood into ice. “You’re running away again.” 

You refuse to turn around. “It’s my choice.”

“What about my choice and what I want? Do you not care?” He stands up and tightens his fists. “Are you leaving for good this time?”

This… time? He doesn’t remember. He can’t remember.

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

He watches as your figure grows smaller in the distance. His head hangs low and he fights back tears. You’ve made it clear what you want. He had to let you go.

A/N: I am currently writing part 2, don't worry! It's a long one, lol. This was also my first time writing in present tense. Loved it. I hope you enjoyed it too. Thank you for giving my writing a chance. 🥰

[poisonlove]

The Addams curse | w.a

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

A/N: Okay, I admit it. I read a story that inspired me so much that I "stole" the idea

Wednesday was painfully aware of the curse she inherited from her family: the Addams curse. It was a curse that had existed since the 5th century, binding an Addams to their soulmate. A curse that would drive one to madness if rejected by that person, a madness that would torment them even after death.

As alluring as that last thought sounded, Wednesday didn’t want to become a slave to another person.

And she especially had things to do.

Just the thought of her father's expression when he looked at Morticia sent a warm, nauseating sensation to her stomach, a warmth that was far from pleasant. It was a reminder that in her life she would encounter… her other half. She would prefer to skin herself alive than to fall into this trap.

Because love was, in fact, a trap.

Thanks to reading a book about her family's history, she learned that the curse activated with the first contact with the destined person. A touch that sent thousands of electric shocks coursing through the body, a bond capable of quenching the thirst of her cursed soul.

That’s why she was averse to any contact: no one, ever, would trigger that curse to drag her into madness. She categorically rejected the idea of succumbing to temptation; she was even willing to kill the destined person, fully aware that she would die immediately afterward.

there was another side effect: if your soulmate died, you would follow them incapable of living without them.

Wednesday pressed her lips into a thin line.

That moment had arrived the instant she crossed the gates of Nevermore Academy. A warmth spread through her body and an annoying itch kept her on edge. Wednesday mentally cursed herself for having attacked students at her old school: at least she wouldn’t have anticipated her end. Her parents watched her with curiosity as they approached her new room and Wednesday tried to maintain an unreadable expression, fully aware that chaos reigned inside her.

Where her mother stayed in the past: Ophelia Hall.

As soon as they opened the door the itch intensified and something indefinable vibrated in the air. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the curse or the fact that she had entered a painfully colorful room. A girl immediately sprang up from the bed, a smile stretching from ear to ear as her blonde hair with blue and pink streaks danced toward their direction. Another girl sat cross-legged on the bed to the girl to far too… enthusiastic.

There it was again, that annoying itch.

“Hi, roommate!” the blonde exclaimed excitedly.

Wednesday felt nauseated, a wave of discomfort tightening her stomach in a cold grip. It was a new sensation for her. She felt her throat constrict, the urge to vomit ready to explode but the lack of food ingested that morning left her with only a painful emptiness, like an abyss sucking her from within. With a shiver she realized that the nausea wasn’t caused by hunger but by the curse that poisoned her insides, slithering through her veins like a subtle venom.

Oh no.

The impression of tiny spiders weaving her stomach from the inside sent a chilling shiver through her, insinuating itself between her bones. Every thread of that imaginary web seemed to tighten around her, making every breath harder than the last. The sensation of being trapped, of losing control, terrified her in a way she would never admit to anyone. Wednesday found herself immobile; perhaps "paralyzed" was the best word.

“Are you okay? You look... pale,” the blonde said with concern.

Other eyes turned in her direction.

“Oh… Wednesday always looks half dead,” her father commented with an ironic smile.

Her mother’s hand rested on her shoulder, giving her a quick squeeze, a gesture that could have seemed comforting but for Wednesday was a reminder of the distance between them.

But inside, Wednesday felt a turmoil boiling in her chest. A raw, primitive energy surged through her like an electric current, making her muscles tremble. Paradoxically, it was the first time she felt so… alive. That pain, that sense of oppression and that devastating nausea had awakened an intensity she had never experienced before. It was as if the curse was showing her the limits of her humanity, forcing her to feel closer to life, precisely because she was on the brink of her annihilation.

If her mother hadn’t placed her hand on her shoulder, she probably would have fainted.

“I understand,” the blonde mumbled, a look of confusion on her face. “Anyway, I’m Enid, and that over there is my best friend Y/N,” she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Y/N timidly waved her hand as a greeting.

“I’m happy to meet you!” Enid exclaimed, filled with bubbly happiness, opening her arms and walking toward her.

Wednesday’s eyes widened and she quickly took a step back to avoid contact. The itch had appeared as soon as she entered this room and the gothic girl didn’t know if it was the blonde girl who was the possible cause. There was also the chance that it was the other girl, Y/N, but honestly she didn’t want to know in any case.

Enid slowed down and looked at her with disappointment.

“Oh… I see you’re not a hugging person,” she mumbled weakly, still wearing a big smile on her lips.

“Do you like the room?” she asked curiously, her eyes so bright it seemed like she had two stars instead of irises.

“No,” Wednesday replied venomously.

“Sorry… Wednesday… is allergic to colors,” her father justified and Enid raised her eyebrows in confusion.

“What does it do to you?” she asked weakly.

“My flesh is peeling off my bones,” Wednesday replied in a flat tone, her lips reduced to a thin line. She felt the itch slowly fade but the annoyance remained on her. A faint laugh reached her ears, forcing her to turn toward Enid’s best friend. “Sorry… that was funny,” the latter stammered trying to justify herself as her cheeks flushed.

Wednesday stared at her intensely, a visceral hatred bubbling within her.

“Well… I’ll go now,” Y/N mumbled weakly. The girl got up from the bed and Wednesday found herself analyzing her quickly: tall, slender, long y/c hair and eyes of the same color. A smile resided on her lips and the goth felt as if her own were about to rise in reflex

she held back.

“It was nice to meet you,” she mumbled timidly.

Y/N passed by her and the proximity was enough to awaken the unsettling sensation gripping her insides. But luckily for Wednesday, it lasted only a few seconds.

(...)

Nevermore turned out to be much more fascinating than Wednesday had imagined: gorgons, werewolves, sirens, vampires and all the other creatures that populated the world of outcasts. However, what intrigued her the most was the series of murders wreaking havoc in the quiet town of Jericho. A frenzy of curiosity filled her; she felt inspired.

She longed to discover the identity of the killer, continue her novel about Viper and investigate any mystery that could be connected to her ancestor Goody Addams.

She would think about escape later.

Regarding her curse, Wednesday had narrowed it down: Enid, Y/N, and Yoko. Tayler and Xavier had quickly been eliminated from her list. Tayler for covering her mouth during the excursion in the woods to avoid being discovered by Sheriff Galpin and Xavier for taking her to the infirmary when she fainted. In both cases, she hadn’t felt anything, a total absence of emotions.

But Y/N was different. She was almost 80% sure that you were her soulmate.

Every time they spoke, even if she could detect a note of sarcasm in your responses to her icy remarks, she felt a palpable energy between you two, an electric current that seemed to draw her closer to you. Her eyes couldn’t tear away from yours and an unbearable fire exploded in her chest. She found herself experiencing mental blackouts lost in your gaze and on more than one occasion she had even stammered. She hated the curse, hated herself, and above all, hated you.

But what got her into trouble were her thoughts crowding her mind like a chorus of impatient voices: Take her hand, kiss her, find out if you are her damn ruin. These thoughts didn’t manifest with Enid or Yoko. With Enid, there was a weak itch, a sense of comfort but not attraction, probably because they were roommates. And Yoko? Well, she was simply a friend of Enid and Y/N.

Wednesday blinked and directed her gaze back to her plate.

The goth found herself having lunch at a table with her roommate's group. Despite loving solitude, she found herself amidst Enid and Yoko, with Y/N sitting in front of her, a calm expression on her face.

The buzzing continued.

Wednesday was close to Enid, so close that their shoulders brushed against each other. Anxiety gripped her stomach but she needed to narrow down the list, she wanted to know: she bit her lower lip and decided to eliminate the distance by leaning her weight against Enid's shoulder.

Nothing.

“Oh, sorry,” Enid shifted.

Wednesday furrowed her brow. Why hadn’t anything happened? Maybe the contact needed to last longer? Should she hold her hand or something? The goth extended her hand and placed it on the blonde’s arm.

Nothing.

She quickly fell into a panic, the electricity increasing around her and decided to touch Yoko.

Absolutely nothing.

“Do you want to kill me? Did you touch garlic with those hands?” Yoko asked, panicking as she looked at Wednesday through her sunglasses.

“I don’t think so… You would have already burned,” Y/N commented playfully. Wednesday looked up and locked eyes with Y/N. This only meant one thing... Her suspicions were true.

It was you.

You were her soulmate.

Oh, fuck it.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.3K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

January 24, 1919

The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.

Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.

You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.

You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.

But you always wondered…

When would it be okay?

You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.

You were alone, different, cursed.

The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.

Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.

If you even met him.

No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?

Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.

Because it was impossible.

You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.

You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.

You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.

And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.

When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.

It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.

Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.

Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.

One Year Ago

You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.

It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.

But today something was different.

Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.

Haircut? No that's not it.

You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.

Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.

Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table.  You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.

Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.

Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.

You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like. 

And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.

You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.

Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.

It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.

You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.

No time to toast it.

You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.

"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.

She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.

And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.

"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.

"Tea later?"

"Mhmm."

"Get some earl gray macaroons!"

You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.

Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.

You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.

Shit.

The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.

You felt free.

You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.

There goes my breakfast.

You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.

But that moment seems to last a lifetime.

He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty,  almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.

The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.

You'd never felt any of this before.

The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He has to…

But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.

"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.

What the hell just happened?

The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.

You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.

When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.

It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.

But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…

Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.

Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-

He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.

You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.

Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.

Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.

But why him?

You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.

Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?

Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.

One Year Later: Present Day

You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.

Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.

Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.

And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.

You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.

And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.

But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.

Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.

Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.

You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.

As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.

It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.

You'd understood that.

Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.

It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.

And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.

But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.

You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.

You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.

As if you knew what that meant.

It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?

How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?

It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.

You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.

She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.

You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.

And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.

The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.

You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.

It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.

It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.

You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.

You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.

You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.

Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.

Guess I'm going a little more casual today.

On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.

You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.

Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"

"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.

The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.

Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.

"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself

"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.

"Well-"

"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."

"But-"

Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.

20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.

"Thanks Annie."

"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"

By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.

"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.

"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.

"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."

"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"

"Yep."

"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.

"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"

"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.

"Perfect."

The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.

Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.

"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.

"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.

"Who?"

"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.

"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.

"He's just kind of rough-"

"Rough?"

"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."

"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"

Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.

"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."

"Oh."

Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.

"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.

It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.

"Thanks babe."

"What are friends for?"

She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.

That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.

It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.

Maybe that's why he didn't want me.

Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.

The familiar question rises in your head again:

When will it be okay?

Probably never.

You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.

A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.

As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.

The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.

You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.

He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.

All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.

Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.

The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.

You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.

A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)

Taglist:

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573

@roseblue373 @52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester

[gojoath]

⟣ welcome to gojoath's 𝒴𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝒴𝒰𝒯𝒜 masterlist! all fics include yandere themes so please read the warnings on each individual fic before interacting :) all characters are written as adults / aged up. minors dni.

listen to the playlist for the series here.

DRABBLES / FICS

˖  ݁ . ࿓ the fics are in rough order of how they happen (kinda)

hello, you — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you think it’s a funny stroke of fate that you keep running into the same pretty stranger, albeit not in your best moments. little do you know, he’s known you for months before that.

i’ll give you my heart — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you think it’s going well with yūta— the new guy you just started dating despite the way you’ve only seen eachother a handful of times. that’s exactly what he wants you to believe though, this is all going according to his plan.

take your turn — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta has always been a giver when it comes to you and your pleasure, but you do think it’s about time that you repay the favour.

ease the ache — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your glad your boyfriend yūta was always prepared, offering you a sleeping pill when you were having trouble was helpful— but why do you feel so needy suddenly?

two halves of a whole — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. sometimes you swear you have two boyfriends, the one that loves you and the one that fucks you. wc, 2k.

stay home instead — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you loved your boyfriend, you did. but you think there’s only so much of his.. devoted personality you can take before the cracks begin to show. wc, 6.4k.

are you still watching? — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your boyfriend, yūta, doesn’t ever like sharing what’s his. apparently that statement goes for your fictional crushes too. wc, 3.2k.

never have i ever — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. a party with your boyfriend isn’t something you expected to turn so sour. but maybe that’s because you didn’t expect your past relationships to start coming out.. or for one of them to be sitting in the room with you. wc, 9.2k.

learn to play nice — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you know that your boyfriend yūta could be a little bit… difficult, but as much as you love him, you can’t let him get away with it all the time. wc, 5.1k.

the part that lingers — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yuta finds it hard to live his life without you, it’s even harder for him to get off when you’re not there. you’ve unintentionally broken him that way. but it’s okay, he still has his ways of ending up wrapped in you. wc, 2.8k.

just as he left you — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your (ex) boyfriend yūta decides to pay you a visit on his way home from a mission. although he forgot how pretty you look when you’re asleep.. and how hard it is to resist. wc, 6.1k.

you said forever — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta’s never been one to back down easily. especially not after you told him you’d be together forever. soulmates. you can’t expect him to just let you go. wc, 4.9k.

EXTRA

just this once — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta thinks it’s cruel how good you feel despite the fact he’s not felt all of you yet. he knows that you can feel better, he hopes you’ll give him all of you just once, that should be enough to keep you forever. wc, 2.9k.

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[luveline]

If you’re looking for anything zombie!au for Steve, I’ve got a request! I sent it a while ago so if you don’t like the idea, please feel free to ignore!

I love that Steve has his own platonic soulmate—Robin—and has that person that will always be his friend no matter the circumstances. Their relationship means everything to me. I’d love to see reader maybe reunite with her “Robin”, as in her best friend and see her find that comfort in her person. Steve gets to see a new side of her and falls in love with her even more <3

zombie au —you reunite with your Robin. fem, 1.5k

“I’m grody.” 

“You’re not grody.” 

“I have greasy hair.” 

You shrug. Steve’s hair is a tad greasy, but it’s nothing you wouldn’t run your hands through. “Steve, I don’t think anybody alive today is judging you for having greasy hair.” 

You wanna call him baby, despite how foreign it can feel on your lips. He’s being adorable today, but the moment to dote on him passes quickly. Robin’s halfway across the campsite, her scratchy, mellifluous voice a ringer for her. You’d recognise it anywhere. 

“New recruits!” she’s saying, her head turning past her friend Sarah to spot you and Steve as you approach. “Hey, guys! Look, I lived.” 

Steve jogs until the gap between them is closed. “Hey, what did you do to your face?” he asks worriedly, his hand rising. 

She ducks away from his touch. “I got totally sliced.” 

“By who?” 

“This girl, Mina, she thought I was a geek, how gross is that?” Robin smiles at you. “I’m not that ugly.” 

“You’re not ugly,” you say. 

“I know!” 

Steve grins. “I wouldn’t be too sure.” 

“I know you don’t think I’m ugly, Steven.” 

You’re hit by two waves of memory, one after the other. The name Mina is hard to ignore: back then, before the end of the world, you had one good friend, and her name was Mina Delecki. You’d get into little spats like Steve and Robin do occasionally, but your friendship wasn’t as sarcastic. Which isn’t to say they aren’t loving, they are. Steve gives her arm a squeeze and promises to help her clean out the wound, and it reminds you of Mina and her scabbed knees. 

“She was nice, besides the attempted murder. They looked like they haven’t eaten in weeks though, the whole group, I’m surprised they didn’t try and rob us.”

“Well, not everyone is evil,” Steve says, wiping Robin’s cheek with his sleeve. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m fine. Does it look bad?” 

“Might need a butterfly stitch,” he says, grimacing. “It’s definitely gonna scar. Where is this Mina? I’d like to give her a piece of my mind.” 

“Steve, it was an accident.” 

“Well, maybe she should be aware that accidents aren’t usually subdermal.” 

“That’s a big word for you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Guys, come one. Did you eat?” you ask Robin. “Let’s go find dinner at the mess.” 

“Sure you’re okay?” Steve asks quietly. 

Robin lets him dote, for once. He slings his arm over her shoulder and steers her to the mess —a porta-building with a designated team of cooks reminiscent of your setup back at the College. There’s a small line by the door, but it’s not as busy inside as you’re expecting. You can spot the newbies from their skinniness, and their dirty clothes, but it looks like some of them have had a wash by the river, dripping hair wetting the backs of their necks. One girl laughs into her bowl of stew. Another cries. 

You know how it feels to be starving and afraid and then suddenly dropped into a community. It’s so scary, but it’s such a relief. 

“You wanna sit down?” Steve asks, rubbing Robin’s back before he lets her go. “What about you?” he asks you, turning away from her to offer you the same nice smile. “I can get yours.” 

“I’m alright.” 

Robin slugs off to a table at the back. “She looks really tired,” Steve says.

They take Robin because she’s slight; she can fit into places a lot of people can’t. But Robin wasn’t built for fighting, she still isn’t, and she’s obviously tired. 

“Well, maybe you should start putting your foot down,” you murmur, “you’re her family, so… if you say she shouldn’t go, maybe she won’t. And I don’t mean asking her not to. Maybe you should fight.” 

“I don’t wanna fight with her.” 

“Somebody took a slice out of her face,” you say. 

You know Robin likes you, even loves you, but it doesn’t feel like your place to get into that stuff. If somebody is gonna convince her to stay, it’ll have to be him. 

“I’ll talk to her about it.” He brings a hand to your waist. “I will, don’t worry. I don’t like it either.” 

“Your hand is cold?” you say. 

Steve tucks it quick as a flash behind your back, brushing your shirt up to touch naked skin. “Is it?” 

“You jerk.” You laugh louder than you mean to and step away from his touch. “This is why you need dinner, you’re freezing to death.”

Steve tries to get you again. He grabs you at the side, the chill of his hands palpable as he pulls you into him. Not to hold, but to be close while you wait, to take up as little room as possible. You both prefer proximity to each other. You let him warm his hands on your hips. 

You’re looking up into his face with a smile when someone says your name. 

A melodic voice. 

She says your name again and you feel it click. Mina’s on your mind, that’s all —yet you turn, and a familiar face is peeking out from behind wet, fine hair. An apocalypse, and somehow Mina Delecki hasn’t aged a day. 

“Mina?” you ask, holding Steve’s wrist tight on instinct. 

She rushes forward to meet you. Steve’s defences go up, his expression hardening as he pushes you behind him, but you slink around his rigid arm with a happy shout, “Mina!” 

Steve lets you go. You weave around a full table of onlookers with pushed out chairs and meet her in the middle, where she throws herself at you, a whirlwind of smell and touch. “Holy shit,” she says, sounding immediately wrought with tears, and joy, too. “I can’t believe you’re here!” 

You’re shocked out of speaking. 

Mina leans back. She holds your cheek, beaming so brightly, you’d forgotten how pretty she was. She is. 

“You’re alive!” she says, squishing your cheeks. “You’re here! Y/N, I looked for you!” 

“You did?” 

“I went to your house, you weren’t there, and we had to leave. I’m sorry, I thought… I missed you.” 

You’re further surprised. You did? you almost ask. “I missed you too.” 

She flings her arms around you for another hug. “I worried about you. Were you all alone?” 

“No, uh, no, no,” —you shake your head against her— “I had Steve. I have Steve. What about you?” 

“Well, my brother made us go to the Lake, but there was nothing that way, so we came back here. Thank god we did, ‘cos you’re here, this whole place, there’s so many people.” 

“There used to be more.” 

Mine squeezes you. “I missed you so much.” 

Your eyes finally burn. “I missed you too,” you say, hiding as your voice cracks. 

You and Mina just hug. 

Your shoulders give an embarrassing shake under her hands. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says, rubbing your back, her tone light, loving, and one you already know. “Don’t cry. I’m happy to see you, too.” 

“I’m so happy.” 

“That’s what I just said.”

You pull away from her to scrub your face. You’re laughing as you turn to Steve, excited, elated to introduce him. “Mina, this is Steve,” you say, taking his elbow into your hand, comforted by his arm slinking behind you. He pats your back. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“King Steve?” 

Steve winces. “Just Steve.” 

“He’s nice now,” you say, grinning, “total reformation.” 

“Hi, Steve. My girl kept you alive, I’m guessing?” Mina gives him a smile, too. She’s only teasing, and Steve picks up on it easily. 

“She did… Hey, you’re not the Mina that cut a chunk out of Robin’s cheek, right?” 

“Hard to say. Which one’s Robin?” 

—

“Sorry, does it hurt?” Steve murmurs. 

Robin hugs her knees to her chest. “It’s fine, just be fast, please.” 

Steve knows it hurts. He’s dousing her wound with an antiseptic, he thinks it’s iodine, doesn’t really know. It’s not brown, but it smells strong. He washes the outside of the wound with a sterile gauze soaked in bottled water, and he pats it dry. The butterfly bandage he applies sticks at an awkward angle, but he pulls it closed tightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs again. 

“It’s fine. At least she got a friend out of it.” 

You sit a couple of metres away with some of the reserves of your candy haul and a few things you won’t miss. Socks, a sweater, a pack of chamomile soaps. Mina doesn’t want any of it, she just can’t seem to stop touching you. You’ve been holding hands for hours. 

“She seems really nice,” Steve says. 

“Gonna get jealous like you did with Eddie?” 

“She didn’t know Eddie before, she just likes him, which is weird.” 

“Not that weird.” 

“Maybe I am jealous,” he says. It’s strange to watch you hold hands with a new person, but it’s not like you and Robin haven’t done the same. The trust between you has solidified, and you use each other like pillows when you want to. “I don’t think I am? It’s nice to see her like that.” 

“Maybe you weren’t jealous at all, you just don’t like Eddie.” 

Steve laughs. 

There’s something about you, sitting there smiling, watching you talk a mile a minute as you explain something to her with no fear of judgement. You’re completely relaxed. 

“It’s actually really nice… to see her like that.” 

“You’re smiling like a creeper,” Robin says. 

“Whatever.” 

[fanfictiongirlie]

Twilight: Some Soulmate - Chapter One

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x Reader

Description: Y/N a member of the Cullen family is imprinted on by one of the wolves, she is shocked, he is shocked. She is struggling with drinking animal blood over human, and he is disgusted by a vampire for a soulmate… But maybe it could work..?

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1,819

"Good morning" I smiled as I skipped into the living room, I wiped the blood from my mouth, my hunt was successful, disgusting, but successful. Deer blood will never quench my thirst, but to stay with my family this was to stay part of my diet. 

"Good morning Y/N, how was your hunt?" Carlisle, my longest friend asked me. I smiled weakly, I was so hungry. Esme appeared behind me, before I could answer, she placed both her hands on my shoulders giving me a tight squeeze. I always felt so loved when she was around, it relaxed me. 

"It was okay, better than last time" I answered. I was lying of course. I missed human blood more than I could even explain. I suppose one good thing that comes from only drinking animal blood was my eye colour, I must preferred the amber over the red. Of course the Amber still didn't compare to my human blue eyes. 

"Are you ready Y/N?" Alice asked me. I nodded and followed him and the rest of my siblings out the door. Luckily we were taking Rosalie's car today, I preferred her driving over Edwards. Luckily Edward was out picking his human up and taking her to school. 

I hated how Edward always smelled like her now, her blood was intoxicating. Jasper struggles too, I suppose it makes me feel better that I'm not struggling alone. I'm not sure how Edward copes. I remember when I had a blood singer, only once it had happened to me. Of course I killed him, I hadn't been a vampire long. 

We spent most of the drive silently, as we normally did. Then Alice turned back to me, smirking. 

"Guess what?"

"What?" I asked, I had an inking to what she was going to say. 

"Mike's going to try again today" She giggled.

I groaned, ever since we started at this school, two years ago, Mike Newton had tried, every few weeks to ask me out, and even though I'd say no, every time, he continues to ask. I wonder if he'd ever get bored. 

"A few months and then it's over" I smile, thinking of never having to go back to that place, I had decided this was the last time I'd attend school, at least maybe for a while. Luckily I was in the same school year as Rose and Emmett, meaning I could escape sooner. I also couldn't wait for people to stop telling me I look way too old to be in High School. Physically I was 21, way over high school age, but I had a baby face. 

We arrived at school to see Edward with his arm over Bella, I thought they weren't going to become a official thing.  I climbed out of the car.

"I'll see you at lunch" I smiled at my siblings before I set off inside the school. I had English first, a class I didn't mind too much. But of course Mike was waiting outside of my classroom, I'm sure he knows my schedule better than I do. 

"Hey Y/N!" He grinned happily. 

I muttered a small hello, he smelt so strongly of his aftershave, it was burning my nose. 

"Prom's coming up, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?" He asked, I pretended to take a deep breath. 

"No thank you Mike, I've said before I won't be going" I smiled sweetly, and then I pushed past him to get into my class.

~~~~~~~~

I didn't pay attention to the class, I knew everything that was being taught. Another reason why I was excited to leave, maybe I could get a job, or take another college course. I'm sure there's something I haven't read about yet. I found myself drifting into a daydream, I was excited for my life after school, but of course I'd have to stay close to the family, otherwise it would upset Carlisle and Esme, and I'd do anything for them. 

'It had been a few months since I had become a vampire, and I was leaving a long string of bodies behind me, it was so easy to keep going. No more would every suspect the woman who could easily bat her eyes and get away with whatever she wanted. It was the year 1887, I was 21. I was never meant to become a vampire, but one night, a man grabbed me, and started drinking my blood, he was going to kill me. But someone or something stopped him, and I was left to die in an alley. I was suppose to die in that alley, but a few hours late I woke up, changed. 

I was all alone, and so scared. 

Until a man found me, he was a strange man, I thought he was human at first, but just a second before I lunged I couldn't hear his heartbeat, couldn't feel the heat of his blood. I had never met another vampire. Not since I became one. 

"Who are you?" I hissed, my teeth bearing at him. 

"My name is Carlisle, if you'd let me, I'd like to help you" He smiled, I felt a warm feeling wash over me, maybe I could trust him?'

When I met Carlisle he took me in, tried to show me the vegetarian way. But I've struggled with it. After a few months with Carlisle, we realised I had a gift. Not a big one, but I can always tell what someone thinks of me, how they feel about me. It's how I could tell Carlisle was to be trusted. I can always tell if someone likes me, to dislikes me. It made hunting so fun, I could always tell if someone thought I was beautiful, it meant I could seduce them, and feed from them. 

It's how I can tell Mike only thinks I look nice, he doesn't care about anything else. 

Once class was over, and another class droned one, it was finally time for lunch. I had a blacked out water bottle full of animal blood. It was gross. 

I sat along side my siblings, except Edward, he chose to sit with Bella. I envied them almost.

Edward and I were the last two without mates. Now it was just me. 154 Years old, and I had never found someone who made me feel complete. My family had, and I endured seeing it everyday. I'm sure if my heart still worked it would be constantly breaking. 

I sipped my drink loudly, my siblings hated when I did that. I smirked at them and carried on..

~~~~~~~~

"Y/N" Esme called, I left my room and followed the noise coming from the kitchen, I walked in and was shocked. My family were cooking, actually cooking. 

"What's happening here?" I asked, watching them. I had no clue what they were even making.

"Edward is brining Bella here" Esme beamed, I rolled my eyes playfully at her, but then felt my throat burn.

"And I want everyone to be welcoming" She added. 

I put my hand to my throat and rubbed it absently. 

"Esme, I don't know if I can" I panicked "I'm worse than Jasper"

She pulled me into her arms and hugged me for a few seconds. 

"You'll be okay" I smiled at her, and stepped closer to Emmett. He was strong enough to stop me if needed. 

"Is she even Italian?" Rosalie asked. 

"Her names Bella" Emmett answered as if it was completely obvious. I started chucking at him, until I smelt it. 

Bella, her blood, it smelt amazing, intoxicating. I held onto the breakfast bar and tried concentrating. 

"Here comes the human" Rosalie sung. 

Edward and Bella walked in, Edward introduced her to Esme and Carlisle, and then brought Bella over to me. I wanted to kill him for bringing her closer. 

"This is Y/N, she's actually the third eldest in the family, after Carlisle and Jasper" He chuckled, but stopped when he saw my face. I'm sure he could hear me cursing him in my head. 

"Yes Edward, mention my age" I said grimly, but it gave me an excuse to walk out. I needed to hunt.

I left my house quick, and ran into the forest, I found something to feed on, and managed to get blood all over myself. I looked a complete state. I slumped against a tree, and sat. I sat and sat for hours, thinking, and making a weird little flower chain. I was quite content, and calming myself down. Until I heard a growl. 

I looked up, and jumped in fear, I jumped so I was clinging onto the tree a few feet off the ground. 

I heard the growl again, realising it was probably a animal, I jumped to the ground. I was still thirsty, perhaps I could find the source. Without a sound I slowly started walking towards the animal, I had picked up it's scent, it was foul smelling. No animal I had smelt before. 

I stopped, deciding to find a more appealing animal, until it jumped into the clearing. 

"Oh, it's one of you" I hissed, one of the shapeshifters. I hadn't seen this wolf before, not that I had seen many. He was dark silver, and was looking incredibly angry at me. 

I looked into its eyes, I wasn't sure if it was going to attack or not, but I wasn't going to make a move. Suddenly I felt something wash over me, a strong feeling of love and care, it confused me. I didn't understand what was happening, but the feeling was coming from him. 

"What's happening" I stutter at the wolf. The wolf looked scared now, he growled once more and ran off. I copied, and ran home, fast. 

"Carlisle" I screamed when I got close enough to the house. My family were outside the greet me, all of them worried.

"He imprinted on you" Edward suddenly said, I was still confused.

"What?" I screamed, they all flinched. 

"Imprinting is when a wolf finds their soulmate" Carlisle explained carefully 

"So a wolf is my soulmate? They hate us! They want us dead!" I yelled "Not to mention I'm not even allowed on their land"

I started walking towards the house, wanting to be away from everyone. 

"Some soulmate" I scoffed to myself, knowing the others could hear too. 

I walked into my room, shutting my door and locking it. 

I grabbed my laptop and started researching about the wolves, and their legends, and mostly about imprinting. Apparently it didn't happen very often, it was described as extremely rare. I didn't even know the wolf, I had no way of finding out who he was either. I wasn't allowed on their land, not that I was brave enough to even go close. 

To make matters even worse, I'm not sure there was anything I could even speak to about this.. 

Next Part

[prettypinkporkchop]

Hellooo, I've been live laugh loving your writing, so I decided to make a request.

Could I request a paul lahote x reader where the reader is dealing with a stalker but decides not to tell him about it because she doesn't want to worry him. But eventually, he notices that she's been really freaked out and paranoid so he confronts her about it and she breaks down and tells him so he and the rest of the pack helped her deal with the stalker.

(if your request aren't open, just ignore their same if you just don't feel like writing this)

English isn't my first language, so sorry about any spelling mistakes

Sorry, not sorry

Going out with Kim was a great idea! Until he found you. Who is he? You see him in the distance everywhere you go. You're getting random texts. You're too scared to tell Paul. What will happen? You don't know if he's human or not! Most likely, he is. The way he texts is too human-like.

"Babe." Paul snaps you out of your thoughts. "Hm?" You look up at him. You are sitting at the dinner table at Sam and Emily's. "I asked if you want me to make you a plate." He raises an eyebrow and then grabs your upper arm. "Is everything okay?" He leans down and whispers. You nod and smile at him. You feel terrible for lying.

Jared and Embry are side eyeing you guys. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You hesitate but pull it out and turn on the screen.

Unknown: the rez is beautiful! But not as beautiful as you. What does Paul or fuck boy call you? 'Babygirl' right? Haha.

You physically cringe but start to breathe heavy and look around, just moving your eyes. They are slightly wide.

Unknown: your eyes past me up, babygirl. Look again.

You look around again and begin to panic. Everyone in the pack at the table notices. "Y-you okay?" Quil asks. Jacob touches your arm. Paul and Emily in the kitchen making plates turn to you. "I'm okay." Your eyes wander again. Behind a tree, a tall figure stands there. You gasp and jump out of the chair. Paul rushes beside you, pulling you into him. "You're gonna talk to me. Now!" He demands. The pack stands up and rushes at the door, looking around outside. You start to cry against his chest and then lift your face up. "Remember when me and Kim had that girls' night?" He nods and glares his eyes. His jaw tenses. "Ever since then, there's been this stalker. I have no idea who he is. He gets closer and closer day by day. I saw him in the trees!" You yelled to the pack who are surrounded at the door. They quickly run outside. Paul starts fuming. If wolves started burning up smoke in anger, he would have been. Sam grabs Paul's shoulder. "We don't know If he's human or not. We can't phase in front of him. We just use our strength against him. Calm." He gently speaks to Paul.

He shoves Sam's hand off of his shoulder and runs outside. Sam follows him, and Emily grabs your arms. "I think we should call Charlie Swan." She suggests. "If the boys can't find him, we should." You nod your head.

You start to hear noises, which makes you jump up and run to the window. Jacob is holding his arms back, and Paul is screaming at him, punching him over and over. His face is bloody. Paul lifts his arm back, making a fist. His muscles flex back. His toned arms became more prominent. He swings again. You can't help but smile at your family and soulmate. You just know you are safe.

Soon, the pack comes back inside. You stand in behind where Paul takes his seat. Paul has a satisfied look on his face as he turns to face you. "Sorry." He smirks and then turns back around, mumbling, "Not sorry."

After all of that, you and Paul go home. He sighs and sits on the bed. You sit at your vanity, taking off your jewelry, pulling down your hair, and getting ready for a shower.

"You know, it pisses me off. You didn't tell me two weeks ago. You have to be honest with me." He speaks. Your heart breaks, and you look down, still at your vanity. "I know. I feel awful. I just - I didn't know what to do. This has never happened to me before." You turn around and face him. Your eyes get watery. "I was scared to worry you. I didn't think it'd get this bad." You watch his face. He still seems mad. He stands up and hovers over you. "Part of being soulmates is being honest, baby girl." You cower a little bit, but know he's not going to raise his voice or hurt you. "I'm so sorry. I'll do better." You sniffle. He sighs and pulls your head into his stomach, and strokes your hair. "It's okay. I love you." He kisses the top of your head. "I love you, too." You smile against him. You pull away and look up at him. "I need to shower." He smiles at you and then lifts you up to your feet. "Can I join you?" He smirks. You roll his eyes and kiss his lips softly. "I guess." You mumble while giggling.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, rejection word count -> 2.1k

abstract -> my soul was always yours... im sorry it took this long

flashback – heeseung’s perspective

“But I don’t want to go,” I told my sister. She sighed and continued to fix my hair for this stupid day. “Come on, maybe you’ll find friends,” she said with a grin and I scoffed. “This is different from you, you actually found friends” I whined and I knew she was already worried but I dreaded having to go to a new school. 

“Heeseung, be brave for me okay?” she said and I rolled my eyes but agreed. I held her hand tightly as I saw the school in front of us. 

Belift Boarding School for Young Witches. 

“You’ll pick me up, right?” I asked and she smiled. “I’ll be right here to hear how your day went little brother,” she said as I waved her goodbye. I hated the thought of starting a new school. 

Only for the kids to treat me like an idiot, a monster, anything but human. I wanted to find Jungwon and Sunoo… but I didn’t know if they were incarnated again. Or the other boys… maybe even Sooha. Anyone to make me feel less alone. 

This is a stupid school, filled with idiots!

The orphanage just had to make me go here. It's dumb. Filled with kids who don’t even know simple magic, what is this school?! Then again… noona would just say it's because I have my memories of past lives that I know about my abilities. 

“Hey! That’s mine!” I heard and I noticed the mean kids didn’t target me… maybe cause I was placed as a top student when the school tested me. No one wants to bully a kid who knows more magic than them… maybe it's better I went to an all-witches school this time around.

I wouldn’t have vampires or werewolves messing with me. 

The group of boys threw her books out of the window and I scoffed. “Oops! Sorry y/n!” they said and laughed but she didn’t cry nor yell at them to stop. Instead, she looked angry. 

I was going to help her but… I laughed. 

It seemed that they all now looked at me confused. “What are you laughing at!?” they yelled and I couldn’t stop. “Maybe… look in a mirror!” I said, trying to stop. She must've done a basic spell to do that… she gave them weirdly colored hair. One had a giraffe pattern, the other a zebra, and their leader a cow. 

It looked funny on them. They all looked at each other and argued. They didn’t even notice the girl scoff and walk towards me. 

“You could’ve let them figure it out,” she said and I chuckled. “Sorry to take away your surprise, but want help finding your books?” I asked and she smiled. “Please?” she asked and I swear I fell in love at the very moment. Her smile and shining eyes…

“I’m y/n by the way… what’s your name?”

Twas the night before the masquerade. 

“I wrote her the best card!” Sunoo praised as he tied his bow tie. “In your dreams! She’s gonna choose me to be her date!” Jake said and I laughed. “How bad was your writing on that card?” I said and everyone laughed. “Hey! That doesn’t matter!” he said and I chuckled.

“Heeseung-hyung… do you know who she chose?” Jungwon asked and I smiled. “Who knows?” I said and they groaned. I left first wandering outside… 

Why was I nervous? 

If I was being honest with myself I didn’t let myself read her mind. A part of me begged for her to choose me… despite how selfish I've been. 

In my confession, I asked her to meet me in the back of the school at the flower field. Each minute went by that I wanted to turn back… I know that she was sure her card was from Sunoo. So why was I still–

“Heeseung?” I heard and I felt like I was alive again. The feeling like throwing up, the anxiety, the cold sweat… I turned to see her in a beautiful dress, dolled up and everything. 

“You’re the one who sent this?” she asked, confused and I gave her a nervous smile. 

“Will you let me explain everything?”

y/n’s perspective

I sat down wanting to at least hear him out. I guess I did choose one of my soulmates… just not the one who–

“I never wanted to reject you,” he said… Did I mishear him? “When I saw you again I… felt alive, like there's a heartbeat in my chest. You make me just as nervous though…” he said and I was confused. 

This wasn’t the Heeseung I knew– 

“I’m not… you met Heeseung. The vampire, the one who in his past life was devoted to a princess… but a long time ago you met Evan” he said and I felt my eyes widen. 

Evan?

“Pathetic right? I gave you my English name and lied to you saying I was a foreigner when we were kids… I just didn’t want you to know about me. Jake told me you met my sister… I was a witch who attended Belift Boarding School for young witches” he said… Evan.

The boy who always met up with me after classes… the boy who helped me prank the other kids in my class. 

“I don’t understand," I said, confused…

“I think I’ve loved you since I first saw you, y/n” 

When we first met I felt drawn to love at first sight.  I loved you then and I love you now, I’ll always be there to lift you up even if you don't want me there. I want to be the only one to cherish and love you. To die and live for you and only you. So I can only dream you would do that for me. 

“Then why? You were one the meanest! You rejected me first! You’re a liar… you… why?” I yelled until I realized I was getting emotional.

“Don’t cry… not when you have six other soulmates–” “Answer me” I said and he smiled a soft smile. 

A smile that… I've only seen once… when he comforted me after what happened with Jake. 

“Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon were in love with Sooha… they don’t know this but you do. If you have more than one soulmate and you try to–" "To bond with a few of them then the bond eventually dies' ' I finished for him and he gave me a sad smile. 

“I knew Jungwon would want to be with you even without the bond and so would Niki and Sunoo. I wasn’t sure though… but here you are” he said and I scoffed. 

“You shouldn’t make decisions for other people,” I said and he gave me a sad smile. “I know… but when it affects your magic I was willing to break you apart from them when not all of them were going to accept you easily,” he said and I sighed. 

It's why I couldn’t defend myself against Jake… also why my magic has been faltering recently. 

When a witch's soulmate bond is rejected… and fighting for the bond drains your magic. You can fix either by rejecting your mates back… or having them accept you. It's also why Wonyoung broke my bond temporarily… so my magic can temporarily regenerate. 

“You turned into a vampire?” I asked and he chuckled. “Not willingly… but I can live with it. My sister recommended that I go to Decelis. So im learning to come to terms with it” he said and I nodded. 

“You really do look pretty… you would have to be the prettiest person in the school” he said as he lifted his hand up to tuck my hair away. 

“Prettier than Sooha?” I asked and he chuckled. “Believe it or not, I've never loved Sooha. She was more like a sister to me… my own sister took care of me in this life. While I took care of Sooha in another… So I didn’t reject you to have Sooha… I would have to be a fool” he said and I was shocked. 

“Go to your party… you worked hard for it. They’re all waiting–" "But I chose your message, "I said, cutting him off. 

“Oh? I guess you did… It would be a bad example if the president of the student council of Bright Sun didn’t follow her own rules” he said and I chuckled. 

“Shall we?”

We arrived now with our masks on and I took everything in. 

I soon heard him chuckle beside me… “They’re all jealous and annoyed,” he said and I sighed. “They must be confused about who I chose?” I asked and he nodded. 

“They’d never guess me,” he said and I nodded… I looked at him, he was happy. He had a grin on his face… not so serious like other times. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, will you give me at least one dance?” he asked and I smiled and took his hand. 

I enjoyed my time with him… this was the Evan I knew. My best friend from elementary school graduated and I never heard of it again. 

“I wish you would let me choose my own path, you know,” I said as we swayed to the music. He smiled… “I know better than anyone… what rejecting mates does to a witch. You were fighting for the bond… and it was eating your magic” he said and he wasn’t wrong. I jeopardized myself… but they didn’t know that. 

“How do you know about that?” I asked and he sighed. “Let's just say my sister… she experienced it,” he said and I felt my eyes widen. 

“Don’t worry… she’s fine. Can I ask–” “We will be announcing our king and queen!” I heard Wonyoung’s voice. “Now we have included this year to not just include witches or any magic users only. So please be open-minded to one another and let us accept other species into our traditions” she said and I smiled. 

It was controversial but it was all fun and to be enjoyed. 

“Our king… is K from Riverfield!” she announced and I was shocked. K? I soon saw him join the stage… “And our queen… Sooha from Declis” she announced. What? Not everything was wrong– 

“EJ and Wonyoung are doing me a favor… Sunghoon can put aside his ego for this one time” Heeseung said. The King was voted most times for Sunghoon and the Queen was Wonyoung… So what was going on?

I looked back at them getting their crowns and smiling at each other… “They’ve accepted one another,”  said and he nodded. 

“K finally has some sense… and Sooha is finally thinking clearly,” he said and I chuckled. “Thank you… even though you tampered with my event” I said and he laughed. 

“I’m sorry, I'll make it up to you,” he said and I smirked. “Oh? Then I know how you can '' I said and he looked at me shocked. “We’re soulmates right, Evan?” I asked and he laughed.

“Yes, we’re soulmates y/n. I’m sorry for everything… but I'm willing to do anything for you. I promise my little witch” he said and I smiled. 

“y/n!!” I heard and I saw Sunoo and Jungwon. “You bastard! What'd you do to our soulmate!” Sunoo yelled and I laughed. 

“I chose his message… sorry boys,” I said and they pouted. 

“Yeah, so I won fair and square,” he said and Jungwon scoffed. “So did Sunghoon yet he’s drawing a punch right now,” he said and I laughed. 

“I owe him a dance,” I said and I was suddenly pulled back with the hands on my hips. 

“Sorry, but you’re mine tonight. I won you with my message… and I want to make up for all the time I’ve lost” he said and I nodded.

“Comfort Sunghoon please?” I asked the two boys and they nodded. 

“I’m guessing you guys are all made up?” I asked and he nodded. 

“Everything is right again… especially my soul that is bound to you” 

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[tasteleeknow]

HELLO STRANGER. PART FIVE.

PAIRING: minho ft. hyunjin x fem!reader GENRE: smut, angst, fluff, soulmate!au. enemies to lovers. jealousy. pining. unrequited love. WORD COUNT: 5.4k

masterlist and taglist ♡ pt.1 | pt.6

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

You came. You came to the thought of Minho wrapped around you and… inside you. Minho. The same Minho who tossed what remained of your self esteem into the dirt and pressed it so deep into the earth you have no idea if you’ll ever find it again. 

It’s fine. 

You’d already accepted he was pretty, maybe the prettiest person you’d ever seen. But that was before. Before he’d called you an infection and made you feel so, so, small. It was easy to see past his pretty face after that. 

And then he’d been kind. Fucking sat with you through a storm and asked you if you were okay and told you not to cry. It’s not enough. It shouldn’t be enough. He has an unfair advantage. He was picked out for you. Soulmates. Soulmates. Soulmates.

You could cry. Or scream. 

You do neither. 

You crawl into bed and try to forget. He didn’t want you. 

You are alone. 

—

It’s like he knows. It’s some sort of cruel joke. A soulmate who can read your thoughts, your internal conflicts. He’s sitting at the table when you stumble out of the bathroom the next morning—a pile of fruit in front of him like a peace offering. 

“I made fruit salad,” he says, all soft and fucking irritatingly sweet, “if you’re hungry.” 

You freeze, completely and utterly fucked. 

“I’m fine.”

—

Avoiding him is a ridiculous, impossible task. You live with him. Still, you avoid him at breakfast, and—after a few failed attempts to avoid him in the pool—you stop going all together. Hyunjin had attempted to squeeze the truth from you. He couldn’t understand why you’d stop doing something you seemed to enjoy so much. Never in a million years were you going to confess that seeing Minho dripping wet and shirtless each morning was fucking with your head. Not after everything. You couldn’t give Hyunjin any hope. 

“You can tell me,” Hyunjin says as he taps the end of his pencil on the small coffee table. 

He’d been spending the afternoon drawing while you read. It’s a peaceful, quiet company. Or it has been before his nervous tapping had started.

“Tell you what?” 

The tapping doesn’t stop as he looks up at you from the floor. “Have you fought?” 

You frown, closing your book and dropping it onto the couch beside you. 

“No,” you reassure him. “I mean a small one but we made up. We’re fine.” 

His pencil stops. He places it down gently. “Then what is it?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

I think I want to fuck my soulmate. The one who made it clear he does not want to fuck me. The one we live with. 

“What… makes you think something is wrong?”

He offers you a sad smile—a knowing smile. He always seems to know. How can you be surrounded by people who seem to know your thoughts and still feel so… adrift… alone.

He joins you on the couch, replacing your book with his fluffy socks as he curls up beside you. He’s warm. He radiates warmth, as always. “You’re avoiding him,” he says, like he’s pointing out the sky is blue or the grass is green—like it’s simply and utterly true. 

How do you deny a fact?

“We’re being civil.” 

He tucks his feet underneath you and leans back on the armrest, making himself comfortable. “So this was a mutual agreement? To distance yourselves from each other?”

“We didn’t wanna argue anymore.” 

Hyunjin says nothing in return. Just looks at you, like he’s caught you with your hand in the cookie jar and you’ve just tried to deny it. 

“What?” you blurt.

“He asked me this morning if he’d done anything to upset you.” 

A short laugh bursts from your lips. You can’t help it. “Upset me?” you question, struggling to wipe the laughter from your face. “He asked if he’s done anything to upset me?” 

“Recently,” Hyunjin clarifies. 

You turn to face him, grasping his calves in your hands to use as leverage as you rearrange yourself. “Jinnie,” you start. “We should go out.” 

His eyebrow twitches. “Out?” 

“Mina’s wife is having a party tomorrow, for her birthday. Come with me.” 

He pulls his legs from your grasp, tucking them to his chest. “You’re trying to distract me.” 

“I’m inviting you to come out with me. It’ll be fun.” You lead forward and rest your chin on his knees. “Please,” you plead, offering him a small smile. 

He looks to the hallway as the water cuts off. Minho has finished his post pool shower. “What about him?” he questions. 

You press your lips together to prevent ‘what about him?’ slipping out. It’d be easy to find a reason, an excuse to keep this just between you and Hyunjin. Mina invited him specifically because of his attendance at her wedding. You want to spend a night with Hyunjin alone. Quality time minus the beautiful, asshole soulmate. Instead, you sit back and—with a slight furrow of your brows—you mumble, “He can come if he wants.” 

Hyunjin laughs, falling forward over you—his face pressed into your shoulder. “Try not to look too happy about it,” he says around his lingering laughter. “He probably won’t come anyway.” 

You push him off you gently before tucking his hair behind his ear. “You’re annoyingly caring, you know that?” you say. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

—

Minho does say no. He’d rather stay in, he says. Fine with you. You and Hyunjin leave him sitting on the couch with one of the cats curled on his lap. 

His eyes drift down your bare legs on your way out. You wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t taken one last glance back at him. You don’t know how you feel about it. 

You find yourself at the bar before you’ve even attempted to locate Mina or her beautiful, rich wife/soulmate. Alcohol is nice. Alcohol and friends and loud distracting music. It’s not something you usually enjoy. In fact Mina had made it clear you weren’t obligated to come exactly because she knew you so well. It feels different now. It feels like it’s exactly what you need. 

Hyunjin gets dragged off by the birthday girl at some point in the night, when you’ve had more drinks than you probably should have and then attempted to take the edge off the inevitable hangover with a tall glass of water. Mina sits with you, her legs stretched out in front of her to touch yours—each of your backs pressed up against opposite walls in the empty hallway. 

“It has to be weird,” she says. “It has to be.” 

You take another messy sip of water, wetting your lips more than anything. Then you nod. 

“Has… anything happened?” she emphasises her point with a look up and down your body, her eyes lingering between your legs. 

You kick at one of her feet. “God, Mina.” you scoff. “No. Did I not make it clear? He fucking hates me.” 

“And… you hate him?” 

You nod. 

“You sure?” she questions. 

You attempt to chug some more water. Most of it ends up down your dress. “Yes,” you grumble as you wipe at your dress uselessly. “He’s an asshole. He’s maybe the biggest fucking asshole I've ever known.” 

Mina gives you a look. A really fucking annoying look. Like she knows. Would everyone stop thinking they fucking know. 

You pull yourself up on your feet, a little less steady and graceful than you’d prefer. But you make it upright. Mina joins you with only a little help—a clumsy tug to one of her arms. 

“You can hate someone and be attracted to them,” she says as you stand there in the middle of the hallway, cool water dripping down between your breasts. 

“I…I know.” 

She shoves your shoulder, almost sending you back into the wall. “I knew it!” she yells. “You’re fucking—”

You slam your hand over her mouth. “We are not. I am not. I got myself off and he happened to be… the face I was thinking of. That’s it. Okay?” 

She nods and mumbles something into your palm. You release her. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, swaying a little on her feet. It almost sobers you completely. 

You had no idea. 

“I can’t want him,” you say eventually. “I can’t.” 

She must see something in your face because you find yourself tugged into her arms. It’s nice. “What do you need?” she asks as she strokes your hair. 

“I don’t want… to want him.” 

She takes a small step back and takes your face between her palms, holding you in front of her like a mother about to give her child a serious life lesson. “I saw a very pretty man in a tight black shirt earlier,” she says. “Would you like me to get him for you?” 

You huff out a small breath of laughter. “No,” you say. “Thank you anyway.” 

“You sure? Maybe you’re just horny.” 

You sigh, taking her hands from your face gently. “He’s my soulmate, Mina. I’m… fighting an uphill battle.” 

“Or… you’re horny.” She raises her eyebrows and bats her eyelashes. “It might help.” 

“If it doesn’t?”

She takes your hand. “I’ll text you everyday reminding you how much of a prick your hot soulmate is.” 

“You’re a good friend.” 

She smiles. “Let me show you the pretty man in the black shirt.” 

—

It’s a mistake. 

From the moment he kisses you, it’s wrong. It’s a pair of lips and they’re warm and wet and attached to a very pretty man but… that’s it. It’s nothing. 

You must be fucked in the head. A masochist. You want pain and hurt and suffering. The pretty man in the black shirt had been nothing but kind and sweet and pretty. You don’t want him. 

Still, you don’t stop it until he’s cupping your tits in his large hands. You don’t know why. It’d be easier to keep going, to pretend this is what you want—to pretend the man you want touching you isn’t at home with a cat in his lap. It’s tears that finally signal to the man pressing you into the wall that this is a mistake. It’s embarrassing and awkward and Hyunjin asks no questions when you find him shortly afterwards and ask him meekly if you can go home now. 

It’s only when you’re tucked under your covers an hour later that you confess. Hyunjin crawls in beside you. He doesn’t ask. He just waits. 

“I tried to sleep with someone.” 

It’s too dark to see his reaction. You’re grateful. 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“No,” you whisper. 

“Why?”

“He wasn’t him.” 

He wraps himself around you, tugging your face into his chest. It can’t be more than a minute before the tears come. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this—you wouldn’t make Hyunjin carry any of this anymore. It wasn’t fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not—

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t—I told him to sign up. I’m sorry.” 

You shove yourself backwards, pressing your hands onto his chest to keep distance between you. “What?”

“I forced him into this. You wouldn’t… be dealing with this—with him. I—”

“Stop. Please stop. You can’t… seriously be blaming… yourself right now? You can’t. That’s not what’s happening.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Jinnie,” you whisper between shaky breaths, “You’re breaking my heart.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” 

“I don’t regret it,” you murmur into his chest. “I don’t. I’m so grateful you made him sign up for that stupid app. I found you. You’re so, so worth it.” 

He lets out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around you. 

—

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Minho says as Hyunjin waits at the door with his towel draped over his shoulder. 

Hyunjin nods and then he’s gone. A sense of foreboding falls over you before the door even closes behind him. You’re alone with Minho.

“Can we… talk for a second?” he says, confirming your fears. 

You place your spoon down slowly, contemplating just making a run for it. “Sure,” you say instead. 

He clears his throat as he takes a small step towards you. “I just… I wanted to check that I haven't done anything recently… to hurt you.” 

“Recently?” 

It’s a low blow and not as satisfying as it should be. His shoulders drop and you watch as his towel drags on the floor as his arms hang at his sides. “Yeah,” he says. 

“No.” 

“I thought… I thought we were… getting along. Or better at least.” 

You wish you weren’t having this conversation right now, with his shirt off and his arms out. God his fucking arms. 

“We are. I’ve… been dealing with some things. I’m sorry if I've been distant.” 

“Some things?” 

“Personal things.” 

None of your business things. You didn’t want me. 

He blinks. “Right. Yeah. I uh… I just thought maybe you’d prefer I didn’t come to the pool. I know you liked it.” 

He’s offering to stop, to leave the pool sessions with Hyunjin to you. It should be easy to agree to his offer. But you can’t avoid him forever. Exposure therapy, you tell yourself. The more you see him… exposed, the less you’ll care. You sigh.

“Would you… wait for me to change? I’ll come.” 

You can’t help noticing the way he perks up a little. “Yeah, yeah I’ll wait,” he says.

You find yourself alone in the shallow end, watching as Hyunjin guides Minho out into the deep. They’d made some progress in your absence. Minho could almost make it to the other end unaided. You've known how to swim for as long as you can remember. It’s instinctual now. It’s hard to imagine what’d it be like to be unable to swim; to not be able to keep yourself above the surface… to sink. 

You lift your feet off the bottom and tuck your knees to your chest, letting yourself sink down under the water. It’s quiet; dulled. Apart from the muted sounds of the others moving at the other end of the pool, there’s nothing. 

It feels like yesterday, when you’d found yourself alone in the waves—heavy storm clouds overhead. The smell of the ocean mixing with the freshness of the incoming storm. The small group on the beach looked so far away as you made your way out of the water, your arms wrapped around yourself to shield from the chill. It was the start, the first moment you’d felt it. It was dark and cold, the heavy weight in your chest. It existed to remind you that even when you were surrounded by people, you were alone. You’d managed to ignore it a little in recent years, with Mina around so much. But then you’d been abandoned, by your ex, by Mina, by Minho. 

You were unwanted. 

A hand wraps around your bicep and tugs, hard enough to hurt. 

“—fuck are you doing?” 

Minho’s voice is the first thing you hear when you surface. You gasp as you shove your hair from your face, only realising as the oxygen floods into your lungs how much they were burning. You blink as you catch your breath. Then his tone of voice sinks in along with his grip on your arm.

“What—”

“What are you doing?” he says again, cutting you off. 

Your brows furrow. “Let me go.” 

He blinks and then releases you. You watch as his eyes widen a little and then he’s taking a large step back until he’s pressed to the edge of the pool. You suck in a breath—to say what exactly, you aren’t sure.

“You alright?” Hyunjin says, interrupting you before you can find out. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You were under for a while. We thought—” 

“I’m fine,” you insist, suddenly embarrassed—by the situation but mostly by the self pitying thoughts you’d let yourself be consumed by. They couldn’t know, you knew they didn’t know but the embarrassment bubbles up nevertheless. 

Hyunjin stands there, a comforting hand on your shoulder, looking at you like he cares. 

Because he does. 

You weren’t alone. He’d suffered so much more than you ever had and here he was, warm and kind and caring. You paint a small smile on your face and step into his arms. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I… didn’t realise.”

“Just don’t forget to breathe,” he mumbles back. “Please.”

—

Mina had been diagnosed with Celiac Disease three years into your friendship. She couldn’t eat gluten ever again, she’d explained to you. No bread. No pasta. Your favourite ice cream was even off limits. They snuck that shit into everything you had both come to realise. Still, she stuck to it. Even when she was piss drunk on a night out she’d remember to ask the bartender exactly what was in each drink. The thing that amazed you the most was her ability to turn down cheesecake. It was your shared kryptonite. You’d both taken countless midnight trips to the convenience store just to satisfy your all consuming craving for cheesecake. She’d cried the day you’d both tentatively read the ingredients label only to discover the dooming words in bold print ‘Contains Wheat’. She never touched it again. 

You’re reminded now—as you sit quietly on the edge of the pool—what Mina had said when you’d asked her how she did it; how she managed to resist the cheesecake. “Because I have to,” she’d said. As simple as that. “It’s off limits. I’ve crossed it out as an option. I can’t eat cheesecake like I can jump out of a plane without a parachute. It’s not an option.” 

You watch as Minho stretches his arms above his head. Shirtless and wet. He shivers a little. You imagine if you were closer you might be able to see the warm droplets making a slow path down his skin and into the water. 

Then you blink. 

It seems to click after that. He’s there. He’s beautiful. He’s dangerous. He's convenience store cheesecake… and he’s jumping from a plane without a parachute. 

It makes it almost easy. 

You can spend more time with him this way. It seems to take him a little off guard at first. He’s almost awkward. Then he settles. It works so well you wish you could go back in time and slap yourself for not realising it sooner. Treat him like he’s anyone—no one. Not an option. 

You’re a genius. 

“How much further?” Minho asks as he steps around you and nudges you away from the curb with his shoulder. The first car in five minutes passes you both a few seconds later. It’s late. So late the streets are nearly empty. 

“If you ask me that again I’ll push you into traffic.” 

“Well ‘not much’ doesn’t mean anything. You said ‘not much’ half an hour ago.” 

“Don’t be dramatic.” 

“I’m not dramatic.” 

You huff out a short laugh. He grumbles something under his breath in response. 

“There!” you shout, pointing across the street. “I knew I hadn’t missed it.”

“Hey!” he calls after you as you take off across the empty road. 

It’s exactly as you’d seen it last, the small gap in the hedge. It was easy to miss. You had to be looking for it. Minho is a little out of breath as he joins you at the wall of foliage. He shoves the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. You expect him to question you, to make a snarky comment about the wall of shrubbery you’d dragged him to in the very late hours of the night.

But he doesn’t. 

You’re both quiet as you catch your breath. You’re silently hoping everything is exactly as you’d seen it last. You haven’t been here in years, not since long before Mina had found her soulmate. It was Hyunjin you’d thought you’d be bringing here. Never Minho. But then, you’d never imagined yourself getting along as well as you had been over the past month. The suggestion to come here had slipped out of your mouth before you’d even taken a moment to think about it. 

You were both awake late. Both sitting around with not much to do. “Wanna go for a walk?” you’d asked. 

“Where?” 

“There’s a place nearby… I haven't been there in a long time. It’s nice.” 

“Alright,” he’d said. Simple as that. 

You step forward into the hedge, pushing the branches aside as you go. Minho reaches in behind you, holding a few back before they can snap back into you.

“It’s here.” 

His breath tickles your neck as he leans over you. “A door?”

“A door,” you confirm with a smile, eyes fixed on the large wooden arch in the stone wall. 

It’s a struggle to get it open. You both end up pushed up against it until finally, it gives. You manage to catch yourself as you stumble forward. Minho isn’t so lucky. He takes you down with him, falling into your back and sending you both crashing into the grass below. 

You’re just grateful he manages to avoid landing on top of you. He just misses, landing hard just beside you. It only takes a moment for you both to recover from the shock of it. Then you’re laughing. You roll onto your back, laughing up to the star-littered sky. 

“Did you bring me here to murder me?” Minho asks as he sits up. “Is that it?” 

You look up at him from your bed of grass. “There are much easier ways to kill you.” 

“You’ve thought about it have you?” 

You smile sweetly as you give him a small nod in reply. 

His eyes flick across your face as the corners of his lips curve up to mirror yours. “Why did you bring me here then?” 

It’s a good question. One you’re not sure how to answer. So you don’t. Instead you pull yourself to your feet and take in your surroundings. It’s just how you remember it, your garden. It’s as dense as a forest with a small path winding through the bushes of flowers and towering trees. It’s lit by soft yellow lights scattered through the shrubbery and along the path. It’s only because you’ve been here before that you know where the winding path leads. A large tree at the centre, with a swing hanging down from one of its thick branches. You have no idea who tends to it all. The whole garden is well-kept. You’re unaware of any other entry point. It’s not something you want to know. Magic is better when you don’t know its secrets. 

“Is this… someone’s garden?” Minho asks, standing beside you now. “Are we trespassing?” 

“Dunno,” you say with a shrug. “I’ve never seen anyone else here.” 

He takes a small step forward, seemingly in awe. You can’t help smiling a little at his reaction. It feels like yours, this garden. It only deserves awe. 

The smells are the best part. It’s different at night. The fresh midnight air mixed with the fragrance of the flowers. How can anything be wrong in the world when a place this soft exists? 

Minho is quiet as you both wander down the spiralling path. He’s tugged his sleeves back down and his hands hang by his sides. You can almost feel the warmth radiating from him as his fingers swing past yours. Yours are practically ice cold.

“Has Hyunjin been here?” Minho asks.

Hearing a voice almost feels wrong now. A disruption to the perfect serenity. 

“I’ve only ever been here with Mina.” 

The fresh breeze picks up for a moment, rustling through the leaves above you. “How’d you find it?” 

“Her brother,” you say as you tug your sleeves down over your frigid fingers. “He brought her here. I don’t know how he found it.” 

“Mysterious.”

You hum. “Doesn’t it make it so much better? The magic of it all. It’s like stepping out of reality.” 

“Is reality so bad?” 

You kick a stray rock. “Sometimes.” 

They’ve been rare recently: the reminders. He’s someone who caused you pain, who worsened your self-doubt and anxieties. You haven't forgiven him. He hadn’t been redeemed. 

You shove it all down again. 

“Guess where this leads.” 

He shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket, the small pouch at the front offering him warmth you highly doubt he needed. He runs warm, you’ve come to learn. You were incredibly jealous. “It leads somewhere?” he asks. 

“Mhm. Guess.” 

“Do I get a prize for getting it right?” 

“No.” 

“It leads to hell.” 

A short burst of laughter escapes your lips. “What?” 

“You did bring me here to murder me after all. I’m being lulled… hypnotised by this spiralling path before you push me down an empty well in the centre.” 

You pause. He pauses too, turning to look at you. 

“You’re weird.” 

“Am I?” he says with a small tilt of his head. 

God, how you wish you had more self control. Then you could prevent your lips curving up into an amused smile. He reacts exactly how you expect. He smiles back. 

By the time you reach the centre, you’re half convinced he’s right. The spiralling pathway seems to have worked to lull you into some sort of strange spellbound state where you’re enjoying Minho’s company. You tolerate him usually, a neutral sort of company that you can find in most anyone you’re forced to share space with. Or, you’d thought it had been neutral. In this garden there’s no distraction, nothing you can use to convince yourself you’re not finding joy in his company in its own right. You wonder how long you’ve been in denial. 

It’s an uncomfortable thought that is happily disrupted by the centrepiece of your garden. The giant oak towers above the rest of the vegetation. You imagine it being here long before the wall was ever built to enclose her in. A swing hangs from one of her thickest branches, swaying in the gentle breeze. In a different garden the whole atmosphere might induce fear, an unsettling feeling. But not your garden. She’s good, soft, and welcoming. There are no ‘deep empty wells to hell’ in your garden. 

Minho leans against the trunk of the great oak as you rock back and forth on the swing—keeping your feet on the ground. He’s a comforting presence, you realise. You thought you might regret bringing him here, that he might taint your memories of this place. 

“Why haven’t you brought Hyunjin here?” 

“I haven’t brought anyone here.” 

He readjusts his position against the tree. “Except me.” 

“Don’t let it go to your head. I didn’t… think about it. I haven’t been here in a long time.” 

“Why?” he asks after a short pause. 

You shrug. “I don’t know. No reason I guess.” 

“You do.” 

“What?” 

“You do know. You always have a reason.” 

You watch him sink to the ground with his knees bent and his back against the trunk. He looks so comfortable, like he’s been here a million times before. 

“I always have a reason?”

He nods. He doesn’t offer any elaboration. 

You can’t help frowning a little, confused by his apparent insistence that he knew something about you that you didn’t. He knew something… about you. You shuffle in the swing, suddenly a little uncomfortable. 

“I wasn’t ready.” 

He waits for you to continue, seemingly completely relaxed. 

“I was always happy here,” you continue. “This place is… it’s happy. It’s outside of reality and it’s magic and it’s—” you suck in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, emptying your lungs. Minho waits. “I didn’t want to taint it with… all of my shit. If I started coming here when I was sad, that’s what it would be: my sad place.” 

“That makes sense.” 

You look up at him, finding him still looking entirely at home beneath your oak tree. “It does?” 

He nods with a small hum. “You’re good at that.” 

“At what?” 

“Knowing yourself, your… feelings.” 

It’s a strange compliment. You’re not sure what to make of it. You’re not even sure it’s true. 

“Are you not?” you question. “Good at that.” 

He drops one of his knees, leaving one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him. “No,” he says simply. “I’m not.” 

“You’re good with Hyunjin’s feelings. He told me about what you did. Taking him to Europe after—” 

“That was nothing,” he intejects. “It was… an attempt to distract him. That’s it.” 

You’re walking on a tightrope. One wrong word and this all goes to shit. The last thing you want is to spark an argument in the middle of your garden. But this is what you did, you and Minho. You had these conversations in odd hours of the night. 

“I think… you’re cutting yourself short. You… You held him together. You showed him happy places, like this.” You’ve stopped swinging now, the movement feels dangerous. “I can’t imagine it. It must have been—” 

“I thought he might die.”

You hold your breath. 

“He just fell apart,” he continues. “He wouldn’t eat. He hardly drank anything. He just slept and cried.” 

It’s hard to think about. Hyunjin’s tears terrified you. Just the thought of him being in pain cut so deep inside you, you almost wished you didn’t care about him at all. 

“I could feel it,” he says, voice so low it’s only the stillness of your garden that allows you to hear him at all. “I could feel what he felt. It just… seeped out of him. He hadn’t even met her and he was so…” He sucks in a shallow breath. “I just needed to distract him.” 

“You’re a good friend, Minho.” 

He smiles at you. A sad smile. One you’ve never seen before. “Am I?” 

“You loved him when he needed it most. You… held him up until he could stand on his own.” 

His brows draw together as he looks at you, a heavy look filled with nothing you recognise. You can see his thoughts swirling, spiralling somewhere you clearly weren’t allowed to go. It’s only when he looks like he might cry that you stand abruptly from the swing. This wasn’t a sad place. 

“Your turn,” you say, gesturing to the empty seat. 

He blinks, unmoving. You march over and grab his hand from his knee, giving him a hard tug. “Up,” you command, taking note of his warm hand. Always warm. He complies, letting you drag him to his feet and push him gently towards the swing. 

You’re both quiet for a minute or two as you give him a head start, pushing him gently each time he swings back to meet you. 

“I haven’t been on a swing since… I don’t even remember.” 

He sounds lighter now, like the cool breeze has swept away some of the darkness with each swing. You’re surprised to find you care. That the thought of him recovering from sadness settles some anxiety deep in your chest you hadn’t noticed was there. 

“Minho?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry if I made things harder for you. For both of you.” 

He stops the swing abruptly, his feet planted in the grass. You stand behind him. He’s completely still for just long enough to make your stomach drop completely. You’ve fucked up. 

Then he stands and turns to face you, the swing separating you both. He grips each rope, holding the swing still. “What?” he says. 

You can’t take it back. “I said I’m sor—” 

“I heard you,” he interrupts. “I just don’t understand why you would say that.” 

“I caused… a lot of distress to you both. I’m just s—” 

“Don’t. Don’t say it again.” 

He seems almost angry. Please, please don’t ruin this place, you silently plead. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. You don’t apologise to me. You never—” He cuts himself off before closing his eyes and breathing deeply. When he opens them again he’s much calmer, the intensity mostly gone as his grip on the ropes relaxes. “You did nothing wrong. You’re fine. Okay?” 

All you can do is nod. You’re fine. 

He takes a small step back. “Your turn,” he says. 

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ main masterlist

[minnaci]

contents: established dan heng x gn!reader. reader is a member of the astral express crew, but is not the hsr mc. hurt/comfort, post-1.2 spoilers

a/n: a little bit of a longer one today! thanks to @itoshisoup, @/petrichorium, n @/kitsunefreak for answering my questions abt dh's reincarnation (ask here)! if u see this i hope u know it took everything in me not to call him daniel heng

you and dan heng have never needed words. why say "i love you" when you could just cut him a plate of fruit? why say "i need you" when you could press little, fluttering kisses to his spine, and watch the shiver of goosebumps spread over his skin?

your language has always been one of quiet actions, quiet loves, which is perhaps why he looks so surprised when you take one look and him and say, quite loudly, "what the fuck?"

because the dan heng standing before you isn't the dan heng you could recognize by touch alone. he's.... taller, somehow. broader. he carries himself with an ease that he hadn't before. and most importantly—

"are those horns?"

"yes," he says, with no further explanation.

"dan heng used to be a cool dragon warrior guy in his past life!" march 7th interjects, seemingly oblivious to your increasing upset. "he was super powerful and super important, too!"

you'd known about the whole... reincarnation thing. he'd explained it to you before, but from your understanding, his past lives weren't important. he'd told you that this life with you was the only one that mattered to him. so why hadn't he told you...?

"that's quite enough, march 7th," himeko takes one glance at your expression and cuts in as march 7th begins rambling about dan heng's... boyfriends? husbands? from his past lives and how handsome and cool and strong they all were, and how their story was so romantic—

dan heng says nothing.

"well," you say abruptly, forcing a smile, "i'm suddenly feeling a bit tired. i'm going to turn in. dan heng, you can sleep outside tonight."

you stand up and swiftly make your way to the passenger car. behind you, you hear march 7th ask, "did i say something wrong?"

you let it all fade into silence as you step into the archive room— you and dan heng's room. at least, it would be silence, if it wasn't for the faint footsteps behind you.

"you're upset with me." dan heng crosses the room to you in a few long strides. gently, carefully, he pulls you into his arms. you let him. despite all of the visual changes, he still smells the same. it's more comforting than you thought it would be. you take a few deep breaths, letting his familiar scent calm you down.

"i'm not angry," you say, voice a bit muffled as you bury your face in his chest.

"you're not," he agrees. "but you are upset."

silence falls upon you. you curl further into dan heng's embrace, and he welcomes you easily, drawing wide circles over your back. he's generous with his touch, his affection. it helps you begin to sort through the mess of feelings in your heart.

"you always told me that your past lives weren't important," you say. the words spill from you, a waterfall of hurt and insecurity. "but then you come back from the luofu looking like some— some celestial war dragon, and then i hear about your banishment for high treason and your two beautiful lovers who recognized you across lifetimes, and how it's so romantic because they're probably your soulmates—"

"i know you don't like when i interrupt," dan heng interrupts. "but i... i want to explain before you get more upset, as there are nuances to this situation that i do not think march 7th handled with enough care. you know how she can be when she's excited."

you nod. you do know. you take another deep breath— in through your nose, out slowly through your mouth. "okay, then. explain. please."

"i do not consider myself the same person as the version of me who lived in the past," dan heng says. "i am dan heng. the person that march 7th spoke of was called dan feng. his deeds and his lovers are not mine. i claim no ownership of nor association with them. thus, they are not important to me. dan feng is not important to me. does that make sense?"

"not really," you say. "you're literally him."

"i am not him," dan heng says. "we may share a soul, but i am not him. i do not remember his life, nor do i want to. i have everything i could ever want here and now, as dan heng."

"really?"

"yes," he says. there's a warm brush of lips against the crown of your head. "the astral express crew makes me happy. you make me happy. we may have our troubles, but there's nobody i would rather face them with than you."

warmth flushes through your body, and you hide your face again. it's rare that dan heng voices his emotions so clearly. his candor strips you raw, scraping at the inside of your chest. he's the one being vulnerable, so why are you the one feeling so seen?

"i mean it," dan heng says, taking your silence as disbelief. "i love you. nothing about my past reincarnation's life will change that."

"you're so ridiculous," you sniffle, willing your tears away. "i love you, too."

silence settles around your shoulders once more, comforting like a feather-filled duvet. dan heng rocks you gently— back and forth, back and forth. new clothes and new horns aside, he still smells the same. he speaks the same way. and when you press your ear to his chest, his heart beats the same, steady beat.

"were your— dan feng's— past lovers really that hot?" you break the silence, and dan heng lets out a rare laugh.

"of course you're curious about that," he says, with no small amount of fondness. "here— i'll let you form your own opinions."

he taps on his communicator a few times, pulling up a picture.

"no way," you do a double take, hands flying to your mouth, and you pull back to look at him, wide-eyed. "dan heng. no way."

"yes way," he says, and you can hear the little smug smirk in his voice. he loves you, you know he does, but you can't blame him for the bit of pride that shines through his tone. if you'd managed to pull not one, but two men that magnificent in your past life, your head would get so big that you'd explode.

"and you don't care about them at all?" you have to ask. dan feng was one lucky guy. it's hard not to feel insecure, just a little—

"why would i? they're strangers to me," dan heng blazes through your train of thought, tilting your chin to look you in the eyes. he sobers. something in his voice reaches into the soft, small animal of your heart, holding it steady as it flutters. "besides, i already have the most beautiful person in the universe in my arms."

extra:

"so does this mean i can sleep in the room again?"

"mrgh," you mumble. if your eyelids were any less heavy, you'd open your eyes to shoot him an incredulous look. your limbs are intwined with his like an octopus, and it's bedtime. surely, he's capable of extrapolating. as it is, you mouth sleepily at his collarbone, and hope he understands it as permission.

"okay. just checking. goodnight, dear."

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 8

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2866

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Dean being a sweetheart, Dealing with emotional stuff.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 8

Dean, for the first three days, respected your need for space. But in the confined quarters, it was impossible to truly escape each other. The tension between you and Dean grew like a pressure cooker about to explode with each day you spent apart.

It was that fourth day while you were sitting at the kitchen table having coffee, your back toward the living room, that Dean decided he’d had enough. He set his coffee cup down with a thud on the table across from you before he slid into the seat.

He knew it would cause you to look up at him, which was why he’d done it. “Okay. I gave you three days. I’m tired of the elephant in the room. I’m tired of you avoiding me. Yeah, I do have a soulmate, but there’s no guarantee that soulmates find each other. Am I really that repulsive that you’d rather avoid me than us maybe having something together?” 

You blinked at him blankly, attempting to fully comprehend what he’d just said, and it threw you for a loop. He was far blunter than you were used to with him, at least on this topic. Then, you realized it was the things he hadn’t wanted to talk to you about that had helped you keep him at arm's length.

You took a sip of your coffee, then a slow, deep breath, trying to find your nerves, “You’re the furthest thing from repulsive, Dean. Hell, you’re one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. It’s hard to think you’d even want me since you still haven’t told me about your past,” you replied, and you had gotten quieter with each sentence. Your gaze even dropped to the liquid in your cup, feeling as though you were pushing him to talk about something he really didn’t want to share with you.

Dean was taken aback by your response, as it was not what he’d thought you’d bring up. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with more than you were already dealing with. I’m- I’m sorry,��� he apologized.

“I know you said you couldn’t talk about it, and that I had to keep what you had told me a secret, but there’s so much you avoid, so… I don’t ask. You know everything about me and… I- I just feel like you don’t want me to know about you,” you managed to get out, barely, your voice now barely above a whisper.

He rubbed his hand down his face, leaning back in his seat. The atmosphere of the kitchen seemed tense, and it was getting uncomfortable for both of you. You couldn’t do more than glance up at him briefly before looking back down at your coffee, which was mostly gone now. Finishing it off, you got up and refilled your cup but stayed standing at the counter with your back to him.

“You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay,” you told him in a sad, quiet tone.

Since he hadn’t responded, you headed to your room, coffee in hand, giving him the space of the rest of the house. You set your cup down on your nightstand, your gaze on the floor as you went back to your door to close it. Just as you went to push it shut, Dean’s hand was on the door, holding it open.

“I just didn’t want to put you in more danger than you were already in,” he told you quietly.

Slowly, you looked up at him and saw the worry in his eyes, “Probably can’t get much worse than being forced to hide out in this bunker for who knows how long,” you replied with a dry chuckle.

He managed an understanding smile, “You know, you’re probably right about that. Can I come in?” 

You bit your lip nervously but nodded, then went and sat on your bed, taking your coffee cup between your hands. Dean sat across from you on the edge of the bed. You attempted to gauge his mood by his demeanor again. He was leaning forward, his forearms resting on his legs, hands clasped between his knees while he stared at the floor. 

“Remember how I told you about that woman who had my name professionally tattooed on her? Well, she also had fake records. The name she gave me was the same as the one of my soulmate. It wasn’t until a couple years later that I found her real ID. Her name was Lisa. She even had a kid,” he began explaining, never moving from how he’d been sitting.

You stayed quiet, though, just listening. This was at least more details than he’d given you before, even if it wasn’t yet making much sense. You wanted to ask him questions but also didn’t want to interrupt.

“She used makeup to cover up her real soulmate's name. If I hadn’t found it when I did…” he shuddered slightly as he trailed off, “... she and I would be married right now. That’s the legal battle going on right now, trying to prove which one of the names on her is real and which one is the tattoo. My dad hired a detective and had her investigated. She’s working for the Vaught family.”

Your eyes went wide, and goosebumps ran down your body. You even opened your mouth to apologize but then quickly closed it. You hadn’t involved him in anything. He had been involved for a while now. 

Slowly, your mind began attempting to piece together bits and pieces of information that he’d given you, as well as the things from your parents’ letters. Your right hand instinctively went up and rubbed your collarbone where your soulmate’s name had begun appearing. You still hadn’t been able to make heads nor tails of the marks since they still didn’t look like anything, yet.

Just as Dean was about to open his mouth to continue, you asked, “What’s your soulmate’s name?” It came out quiet, blurted, but you needed to know. 

He sighed but didn’t look over at you, “I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” he replied quietly, now turning and revealing the name on the front of his shoulder; it was the same as yours. 

Your name wasn’t common, but it wasn’t uncommon either. Seeing it on him, though, pulled at something deep inside of you. Even after he covered it back up with his shirt and looked back down at the floor. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” you asked nervously. You felt all those anxiety feelings rising through your body again.

Don’t hope, don’t hope, don’t hope…

“I was hoping you could heal first,” he sighed, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

The anger was beginning to fester within you at his lack of a straight answer. The cabin fever you’d been feeling wasn’t helping the situation either. You’d been through so much since you’d turned sixteen, and the things you’d discovered from your parents less than two months prior. Not to mention how most of the town treated you. It was like a pressure cooker that was about to blow it’s top.

Dean quickly turned to you, a worried look in his eyes, “Hey, it’s okay. I know you’re angry,” he began, holding his hands up in mock surrender, attempting to calm you down.

That alone would have been enough to anger you further, but instead, his words almost comforted you in a way. You wanted to be angry, at everything, but something about him was making it utterly difficult.

“I know you’re my soulmate. I’ve known since I was sixteen,” he finally told you quietly, still holding his hands up, and it looked like he was hoping it would help calm you.

If you hadn’t been so angry, it might have worked, but all it did was piss you off, and you snapped. “You’ve known this entire time, and you never said anything! You went off with some tramp and let this whole town treat me like I was a plague! Get out!” you yelled at him, pointing at the door.

It was far too much in your angered state and you had lashed out. All he did was sigh, hang his head, and left your room, closing the door behind him. You had no idea how deeply your words had cut him. You also had no idea how badly he was hurting due to you pushing him away. It wasn’t a rejection, as his name, so far, hadn’t appeared on anyone, yet. 

You spent the next almost hour basically having a tantrum like a pissed-off child before the sadness finally hit you. When it did, though, you curled up in your bed and sobbed. Everything hurt: your heart, your soul, even your body. Due to your sobbing, you didn’t hear your door open or close again. You didn’t hear his bare feet make their way across your bedroom and stop at the side of the bed your back was facing.

You did feel the blankets move and the bed dip as he slid behind you, then snuggled up against you, wrapping his arm around your waist. Him being this close while you felt this vulnerable only made you cry more, but you attempted to keep it silent. 

“I never meant to hurt you,” he began in a whisper, “Even when I was around Lisa, I could still feel you and what you were going through, at least a little. She’d always keep up the lie, though, whenever I asked if she was feeling that way. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.”

His words seemed to bring on more tears, but in a way, they were somewhat comforting, as was his closeness. You’d felt so alone for so long, and bottled it up, that now there was no holding back the damn of emotions that had broken through.

“After you turned sixteen and you didn’t seek me out, I thought maybe I was wrong. So, I left just after senior year and traveled. It wasn’t until after Sam started in college and found out what the authorities were trying to keep under wraps that he told me. It took him another couple of years to get enough information to do anything,” Dean explained, still in that soft whisper.

“Why does it all hurt so much?” you asked in between sobs.

Dean sighed, then gently rolled you onto your back. You tried to hide your face from him, not wanting him to see you cry, but he was gentle, wiping away your tears. “Sam explained it to me like this. When a soul is wounded, it’s like there’s this big empty spot on the inside. And that, being close to your soulmate helps it heal, but it can feel overwhelming and hurt, even physically,” he explained as he looked down and into your eyes, and for a moment, you thought you could see pain there.

“How do I make it stop?” you sniffled.

The way he looked at you at that moment could only be described as loving as his thumb brushed away a tear that slipped from the corner of your eye. Another mild jolt of pain throbbed in your chest, and you winced, grabbing your shirt where you felt it. 

He leaned a little closer, now almost as close as he had been, when he looked at your collarbone, “Do you trust me?” he whispered.

You wanted to, God, you wanted to, but you were terrified at the same time, “I’m scared,” you replied, nearly inaudibly.

“I’ll never hurt you, at least not on purpose,” he told you softly, giving you that sweet smirk, one that you loved to see on him, especially when it was directed at you. “Even with you being scared, do you trust me?” he asked again, searching your expression for some shred of hope.

You took a shaky breath and bit your lip nervously for a moment, trying not to wince at the mild pain throbbing in your chest. “Yes,” you whispered, sniffling one more time.

Dean slowly leaned closer to where there was almost no distance left between his lips and yours. His eyes never left yours. You weren’t sure if the throbbing in your chest was pain, or your heartbeat, or possibly a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Just as you brought your hand up and held the back of his that was cradling your cheek, his lips soothingly met yours.

It would have been wonderful if that just fixed everything you were feeling and made all the nightmares of reality nonexistent, but that wasn’t how reality worked. The throbbing in your chest did seem to fade, at least enough to make it bearable. Your collarbone, on the other hand, burned, causing you to wince and pull away.

“What?” Dean asked, confused.

“My… shoulder… it burns,” you said between grimaces.

Dean furrowed his brow in confusion as he moved so he could get a better look. “Damnit,” he grumbled, seeing the red, irritated skin as more of your soulmate’s name was attempting to come through. It still didn’t look like anything yet, and now, it hurt.

He quickly got up, headed to the bathroom, then hurried back to you. He sat on the edge of the bed, opening up a tube of what you thought might be some sort of cream. It was cold against your skin and somewhat relieved the burning sensation.

“Sam said this might happen. You’re a true empath, Sweetheart,” he explained with a heavy sigh before looking into your eyes. When he saw how confused you were, it almost made him chuckle. “God, you really are adorable,” he smiled, brushing a few strands of your hair behind your ear.

The blush that crept into your cheeks and the pout of your lip did make him chuckle, though, “What’s an empath?” you asked, still pouting.

“It’s a special kind of person. You are capable of feeling people that aren’t your soulmate. The closer soulmates are to each other, the easier it is for them to feel what the other is. You, though, you can feel what anyone near you is going through or feeling. It’s stronger for those that you are close to,” he attempted to explain to you.

“So, what does that have to do with why my mark is burning?” you asked, still confused.

Dean thought for a moment, wanting to explain it in a way you could easily understand. “Because your soul is wounded like it is, because of what happened, the more your mark comes in, the more it will burn. You’re connected to those around you, not just to your soulmate. So, when you didn’t get your mark, and the town shunned you, it wounded your soul deeper than if you weren’t empathic.” He watched you, not only while he spoke but also afterward, hoping his words made sense. It was mostly how Sam had explained it to him.

The gears turned slowly in your mind as Dean’s words attempted to sink in. It was a lot to comprehend. You’d heard of empaths. Most of them were in professional fields, like the police, FBI, Therapists, and even Doctors. What he said at least made sense, but you still weren’t sure why you had to get stuck in the life you ended up in, as this just seemed like one more thing to make things worse for you.

“Why me?” you asked, feeling utterly miserable at the moment.

“I don’t know. I wish I did. I’m not going anywhere, though. You don’t have to go through this alone. You’re not alone anymore,” he answered, caressing your cheek again with that sweet smile on his lips. 

You weren’t sure what came over you, but his words hit something deep inside. Sitting up, you flung your arms over and around his shoulders in a hug, which surprised him, but only briefly. He sighed contently, gently snaking his arms around your back and holding you close.

“Thank you,” you whispered, not wanting to let go of him.

It was hard to sort your thoughts, but at the moment, you at least felt a little better, even with the slight burning feeling on your collarbone. You pulled back just enough so that you could look into his eyes. Those wonderful emerald eyes that sparkled with his laughter and held the softest of gazes when he watched you.

You were debating kissing him when the alarm sounded from your closet, causing both you and Dean to look in that direction. Without thinking, you let go of Dean, moved across the bed, and were in the closet quicker than he was. 

As you slid into the seat, looking at the videos flashing with red borders, Dean leaned over you, his hands on the back of the chair. Three men were in your house, moving through the rooms. Your heart was pounding in your chest again as you looked up at Dean, then back at the monitors. One of the men was clearly Azazel, but you hadn’t seen the other two before.

“I need to call Jodi,” Dean said through a clenched jaw, pulling out his burner phone. “Jodi, he’s here.”

----------------------------------------- Chapter 9

Story Master List Main Master List

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @jamerlynn @jackles010378 @bruhidkjustwannaread @onthehuntforshinies

@chriszgirl92 @angzls @xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @onlyangel-444

@nancymcl @muhahaha303 @suckitands33 @kr804573 @justrandomthougt

@suckitands33 @mxtansy @scarletqueenx @krazykelly @roseblue373

@whimsyfinny @ladysparkles78 @aaathazagoraphobiaaa @hobby27 @perpetualabsurdity

@cicibunbuns @n-o-p-e-never @vanessa-boo @foxyjwls007 @uoberpmollah

@xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @kdadss @bitchykittenconnoisseur @reignsboy19

@bonbonnie88 @ghostieghoul711 @flamencodiva @kayleezee @stillhere197

@lexasaurs634 @enamoredwithbella @winchester-whiskey

If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Seven

We have a bunch of cute interactions between y/n and the boys this chapter, so buckle up my lovelies! Prepare for the fluffy moments!

a/n: I am writing this while I am almost 3k words in, and I haven't even finished off one bullet point of my outline for this chapter, this is gonna be a long one haha

a/n 2: 4.4k words in now, still have a bunch more to go, strap in everyone, this is a looong ride

masterlist

word count: 5.5k

warnings: Fluff, anxiety and worries from y/n, petnames galore, I think that's it honestly

Y/n was the first of the three to wake up, finding that she was trapped between the two men, two of her soulmates, she reminded herself. Their arms were wrapped tightly around her, and she slowly tried to worm her way out of their hold. It took her a few tries before she was successful, getting the two men to hold each other instead of holding her. As she softly stepped out of bed, she was unaware that one of them had woken up, eyes opening up to see that the woman in between them had disappeared. 

She slipped out of the dancer’s room, as a pair of eyes watched her do so, before focusing back on his sleeping soulmate, deciding to let her wander as there was no danger in doing so. They didn’t have to be awake for another couple of hours, since it was only a studio day, which usually meant that it would be a longer day, but not as strenuous on their body. It also meant that it would only really be themselves and a couple staff members in the studio with them, so they wouldn’t have to worry about any of their managers showing up. 

Y/n softly walked out into the living room, finding no one out there, and so she quietly sat down on the couch, pulling out her phone and scrolling tumblr, because yes, she’s a tumblr girlie. She got absorbed into her phone, not noticing how much time had passed until someone’s head found a spot in her lap. She flinched, not expecting it, and looked past her phone to find Felix’s face looking up at her, contentedness reflected in his eyes as he gazed up at her. 

“Good morning.” She spoke softly, smiling down at him.

“Good morning, baby.” He replied to her, smiling back at her, hand moving to squeeze her thigh.

His action made her whine, before she realized what she did and slapped a hand over her mouth, as if it would make the sounds stop coming out of her mouth. He chuckled looking up at her, his eyes darkening after hearing the sound caused by his actions. 

“You okay there cutie?” He teased her.

“I-I’m fine.” She said, trying to reassure herself more than him, a blush clear as day on her face.

“Are you sure about that?” He questioned.

Y/n moved to hide her face in her hands, unable to look at the freckled man anymore. Felix chuckled, but backed off, this wasn’t the time or place to tease his newest soulmate. Though he was glad to see how easily flustered she got, it’s adorable really.

Their alone time is interrupted by Seungmin creeping out into the main area, a grin on his face at finding the two of them. 

“Oh? Did I interrupt something?” He said, with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Y/n groaned, continuing to hide her face from both men. 

“Seungmin, please go away.” She told the younger man.

“Hmmm, nope.” He replied, smirking.

She sunk into the couch more, wanting to disappear at that moment. Thankfully Jeongin’s appearance in the living room diverted Seungmin’s attention away from her, saving her from his reign of terror. 

Felix looked up at her, a bit of concern shining in his eyes. “Did either of us go too far? I’m sorry if we did, I’ll make sure we don’t cross any more lines.” He said.

“It’s okay Felix, neither of you went too far. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” She answered him.

He nodded, moving to sit up on the couch, moving her legs so he could sit, before pulling them back over his lap. He pulled out his own phone, starting to scroll TikTok by the sounds coming from his device. She went back to her Tumblr scrolling, the two of them happy to coexist in silence.

Meanwhile, the two youngest had stopped conversing, looking over at two of their soulmates, smiling at how comfortably y/n was getting around them. Jeongin snapped a photo of the two, that he planned to send later, once they weren’t the only ones awake. They took a seat at the table, softly conversing about their own upcoming schedules and about things they were looking forward to doing. 

This peace lasted for another 45 minutes, before Han came stumbling out into the main area, a more composed Minho following behind. Han moved to collapse on top of the two laying on the couch, groans being heard from their smallest soulmate.

“Han, you’re heavy. Get off of us.” Felix complained, a groan in agreement coming from y/n.

“Yah! I want to cuddle with my soulmates and all I get is complaints? Rude.” Han retorted.

“There’s ways to cuddle your soulmates, without crushing them.” Maura managed to get out, being crushed by the silver haired rapper.

“I see how it is.” Han pouted, getting off of them and the couch.

“Han, I like being cuddled, but not when it involves getting crushed beneath under person.” Y/n told him.

“Crushing is part of the fun.” The rapper whined.

“Babe, it’s really not.” She said, sighing but secretly giggling at how cute his whining was.

Han eeped at the pet name, not expecting it, turning around so his reaction couldn’t be seen. Minho chuckled at Han, thinking it was cute how much of an effect their newest soulmate had on him already. 

“We have a recording day today, in the studio.” Minho reminds everyone, but mostly it was for y/n’s benefit, so that she knew of the plans for today.

“Recording day? Are you recording a new album?” Y/n asked the lead dancer.

“We’re recording S-Class today. The title track for the upcoming comeback.” Han chimed in. He was excited to get in the studio, it was always fun on recording days, if not a tiny bit stressful.

“What Han said.” Minho answered her. 

“Ohhh, that’s cool!” She said, excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, and you’re coming with us today.” Felix informed her, the boys having talked about it last night while she slept.

“Oh? Is that okay?” She asked, unsure after the previous day’s activities.

“The staff doesn’t get an opinion on if it’s okay or not. We want you there, so you’re gonna be there with us.” Chan said, to the surprise of everyone as they didn’t hear the leader come in.

Felix moved her legs off of his lap so he could get up, and he bounced over to Chan, hugging the older Australian, who hugged him back right away. 

“Good morning Lix. Did you sleep well?” He asked, looking down at the man in his arms. 

“I did!” He said as he smiled.

“Well, we have about 45 minutes before we have to leave, in order to get to the company in time.” He reminded everyone. 

This made everyone jump into action, including y/n, though there wasn’t much for her to do. Chan came over to sit next to her, having been ready prior to coming over. 

“So you know that you’re going to be there with us today, and you can tell me right now if you’d rather be here instead. But I, and the others, would really like you to be there, to see more of what we do. We all want you to be a part of our lives, and we want to be a part of yours, if you’ll let us.” He said, looking her in the eyes, his sincerity clearly seen in his expression.

She looked at him with wonder and love in her eyes. Sure, she had loved Chan and the rest of Stray Kids prior to all of this, what Stay didn’t? But she was falling in love with him, and the rest of the boys, her boys, her soulmates. She wanted to go to work or school, and then come back home to them, to spend the rest of her life with them. She just wanted to be with them, no matter the circumstances. 

“I’d love to go with you all, but you’re sure I won’t get in the way?” She asked the Aussie.

“There’s no way you could get in the way, and honestly, I think all of the boys would focus better with you there. They have to impress you somehow, yeah?” He said, chuckling to himself.

“I don’t think I need to be impressed, but sure.” She said, giggling.

“They think differently, but you have to go get ready.” He told her, before calling out, “Felix! Babygirl’s gonna need to borrow more of your clothes for the day!” 

A muffled response from the other Aussie was heard, before Chan pulled her off of the couch and towards Felix’s bedroom. 

“You good for her to come in, mate?” He asked, and received a yes from behind the door.

Chan opened the door, pushing y/n inside, telling her he’d see her soon, before leaving her alone in the room with Felix for the second day in a row.

She barely had time to process everything, brain still trying to deal with Chris calling her babygirl, and that she’d get to see the boys in their element today as well.

“Okay, sunshine, I have two outfit options for you.” Felix said as he emerged from his closet, an outfit in each hand. One was more casual than the other, and that’s the option she picked, not knowing exactly how long they’d be at the company. 

Felix left her to change, and she quickly did so, not knowing how much time they had left. He returned when she had finished changing, whistling at her when he saw her in his clothes.

“You really do suit my clothing, don’t you?” He said, a grin plastered on his face. “I’ll have to get a couple pieces for you, or you can continue to steal mine, I don’t mind either way sunshine.” He said.

Y/n blushed, she was still not used to all the petnames, nor wearing other’s clothes. She nodded, not finding the words to answer Felix, who just chuckled at her, finding her increasingly cuter by the hour.

“Come on, if you’re done, then we should head out to the living room.” He told her, reaching out for her hand and leading her back into the main area of the dorm. 

They were the last two to arrive, and all eyes were on them, well really just her. They were of one mind, only thinking about how cute she looked in Felix’s clothes. They would have to give her some of their own, so that she didn’t only have to wear the freckled man’s clothing. That wasn’t jealousy speaking, definitely not, they denied, but really, that’s all it was. They didn’t want only Felix to dress her up, they wanted that chance too.

We’re all ready to leave?” Chan addressed them all.

“I think y/nnie just needs to get some stuff, right?” Minho spoke up, knowing that she hadn’t had time to gather anything she wanted to bring.

“Go on and get what you need then, okay?” Chan smiled at her, and she went down the hall to Minho’s room to grab the few things she had. 

Minho followed behind her, almost treating her as a tinier version of Han or Felix, which in his mind, she really was. He leaned against his door frame, watching her gather what she wanted to take, chuckling when she turned around and jumped at seeing him.

“Yah, you scared me!” She said as she pouted and glared at the older man. 

“I didn’t mean to.” He said, still slightly chuckling at her. 

She huffed, pushing past him and walking down the hall, though he quickly caught up to her. He grabbed her hand, taking the lead and pulling her to the entryway, seeing as everyone else had already headed down to the vans. He pulled out both pairs of their shoes, and once they both were ready to leave, he opened the door for her and they both quickly made their way downstairs and out of the building, where y/n was pulled into the maknae line’s van, as Lino was pulled into the other van by Changbin.

The journey between their building and JYP was short, which meant there wasn’t much time for the boys to cause chaos. The boys mostly chatted about how they were excited to show her the studio properly this time, but also that they’d be recording the song in a larger studio so that they all, plus a couple staff members, could be there comfortably. Han was simultaneously excited for and dreading the recording session. He was anxious about y/n seeing their work for the first time, and hoped that she’d like it. 

Plus, she’d have to sign an NDA before they could do anything. Han knew that their fearless leader had been on the phone for hours about it, and had made sure that the contract covered only what was needed. He’d be going with y/n to sign the NDA regardless, to make sure their staff hadn’t switched it out last minute.

The maknae van had arrived after the hyung line’s van, so Chan was there waiting for them as the van pulled up to the company. Y/n got out first, and Chan reached out to grab her, as the rest of the boys got out of the van as well, letting them go ahead into the building, while the two of them strolled behind. 

“Before you can go into the studio with us, you have to sign an NDA about our work and the group.” He informed her, to which she needed.

“That makes sense, and I assume you’re my guide to go sign it?” She asked him, tilting her head up at the man.

“Yes, but I’ll also be there to make sure that it only covers what I told them it should cover.” He said, not trusting the staff after yesterday’s incident.

“Oh, okay.” She said, not sure what else to say.

He quickly ushered her to the elevator, wanting to get her in to sign it, so they could head to the studio. Their journey upstairs was quick, for which Chan thanked the universe, and they entered the office where she was to sign the NDA. When a member of the staff and one of the legal team passed over the NDA, Chan quickly took a look through it, making sure it was the same one he negotiated with them last night. It was, to his relief, and he leaned close to his soulmate, whispering to her that she could sign it, but to read through it herself before she did so.

Y/n took his advice, reading through the entire contract, asking Chan or the legal team member for clarification on certain parts. In the end, she understood what it was saying, and she signed where she was required to, and then Chan wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her out of the room and towards the practice room.

She let him lead, she wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew Chan wouldn’t take her anywhere but the studio. They went down a floor, heading down a long hallway before Chan opened the door to the studio, the others calling out to greet the last two they were waiting on. 

“You made it! Welcome to where magic happens!” Changbin welcomed y/n into the room, and roused a round of giggles from the younger boys.

“That sounded dirty, Binnie-hyung.” Felix told the older man, in between his laughs. 

The rapper blushed, before playfully tackling the boy on the couch, Hyunjin getting involved as well, as a casualty.

“Okay, enough playing around, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Chan interrupted, not wanting the boys to get too off track before they even started recording. 

“You can go sit over there with Jinnie and Lix, okay?” He told her, pointing over at the two boys.

She nodded, heading over to them, as they made space in between themselves for her to slot into. She did, squirming around a bit until she was comfy. Han was up first, and her birthday twin popped himself into the recording booth, getting set up in there while Binnie and Chan got the tracks and guides all ready to go.

Felix and Hyunjin roped her into a conversation about fashion, though she didn’t have much to add to it. Though they were frequently interrupted by Han’s shouts at Changbin for his comments. The amount of times certain lines were repeated by her birthday twin, got some of them stuck in her own head, and by the end, she was mouthing along to his parts. 

The best part for y/n, was seeing how in the zone Changbin and Chan got when it came to recording and getting the best possible results for their song. It really amazed her, even if she’s seen videos of their recordings, nothing could beat seeing it with her own eyes. It was amazing, really, they were so talented, her soulmates had so much talent. It made her fall even harder, seeing just how hard they worked to perfect things for their fans, for people who were like her. 

Soon enough, Han had finished recording, and Hyunjin was called up, but not before he grabbed her hand and laid a kiss on the back of it, causing y/n to blush hard, tipping her head down so her blush was hidden from view. Hyunjin laughed gently, remarking that she was cute. He finally let go, heading into the recording booth, warming up once he was in there. She looked up at the sound of his voice, always in awe of how pretty it was. 

“You’re both so cute, my soulmates are so pretty and cute.” Felix said as he rested his head on her shoulder. She tried to keep herself relaxed, but she wasn’t used to this much touching after going so long without it. But fuck she loved it, and at some point during the next little bit, they end up tangled up in each other, and both of them are smiling and content.

Hyunjin had to repeat his lines in the chorus so many times that y/n caught onto it and started softly singing it, as Felix listened to both of their voices. He didn’t realize y/n could sing, though they hadn’t known her long nor was there ever a chance that allowed for her to sing, but he wanted a song from her, just so he could listen to it over and over again. It was almost a need, but he didn’t voice any of this, not wanting her to get embarrassed and stop singing. 

‘Hannie, come here.’ He texted his almost twin.

‘Whyyy?’ He got back.

‘Sunshine’s singing, and it’s beautiful.’ He replied.

That got the man moving, though he tried to be casual and just wanted to come over and spend time with y/n and Felix. He sat down in the spot Hyunjin had occupied, and due to that, their soulmate stopped singing temporarily. Felix slightly pouted in disappointment, but hoped that she might start up again, once Han’s presence next to her became normal, and she focused back in on the singing coming from the booth.

To the disappointment of Felix once again, he was called up next to record after Hyunjinnie. He groaned and moaned as he got up, as Han shifted y/n’s weight onto himself and Hyunjin gleefully took Felix’s place next to their tiny soulmate. However, the freckled man also knew that he could take the time to impress his soulmate while he was recording his lines. It was a shame that he might not get to hear her if she sang along.

And sang along she did, Hyunjin and Hannie being in awe of her voice. She hadn’t trained like any of them, so there were things that could be improved upon, but that was really if she was actively pursuing being a singer, which they didn’t think she was. But her natural voice was so so pretty, and it honestly would fit well into their songs, in some way or another. Han wanted her voice in their tracks in some manner, now that he’s heard it, he needs more of it. He was greedy, and now that she was here and she was his,well theirs, he wanted to have all of her. His thoughts started to descend downwards, thinking about how her voice would sound in other ways. However the burst of laughter coming from the others snapped him out of it. He looked to see that Felix’s voice had cracked in the middle of him singing, and it started a round of laughter in the studio.

Y/n giggled quietly, just enjoying the chaotic vibes of the boys around her, and watched as they went through the process of recording the song. It sounded much different than Case 143, but to be fully honest, it was still them and she enjoyed the song. Though, it was different hearing the song in separate parts as each member recorded their lines, instead of a whole song from start to finish. Her favorite part so far might have been the part that Felix recorded first, which seemed to be the pre-chorus. 

Minho and Innie’s sessions finished without much fanfare, both determined to get it done, though she, as did the boys, laughed when Bin and Chan fought over how Minho should end the second chorus. She secretly agreed with Chan’s opinion, but she feared the wrath of Changbin, so kept her mouth shut.

Once it got to Seungmin’s turn, most of the boys were kinda bored, but that’s not because the second youngest was boring, not at all. It was because they were stuck here until everyone had recorded, as per Chan’s orders, but no one seemed to know what the leader wanted. So everyone stayed, besides watching the others mess up, or hearing their voices crack mid-line never got old. She found herself laughing along with the others, not at all feeling like this was her first time in the studio with them. She couldn’t get over how she felt so at home with all of them. Like she had known them since she was young, it felt like meeting old friends after years apart and just continuing where you left off. 

Changbin’s part was very entertaining, though it was hard to keep him focused on just his lines, and not have him sing the others lines as well. Y/n was laughing so hard the entire time, that her stomach was hurting, and Hyunjin and Han kept supplying her with other times he’s been like this, keeping her laughter going. It seemed that her laughter made the others perk up even more, despite everyone being ready to leave the studio to do other things. 

“And now it’s my turn, Han, Bin, come take your seats please.” Chan announced as he headed into the booth as the last one who needed to record. 

The other two-thirds of 3racha settle into the chairs at the desk, pulling up what they needed for Chan’s parts of the song. The leader was nothing if not efficient, quickly acing his lines and the two others only offering slight changes to improve it. She was in awe as she watched him sing, she wished he had larger parts in their title tracks because his voice was amazing and she’d never get sick of it. When he finished, finally satisfied with his work, she was saddened, not wanting him to stop, but maybe she’d get Binnie or Han to give her audio copies of his lines so she could listen to them on repeat. 

Since the recording had finished, the few staff members that had sat in on the session, packed up and left, leaving just the nine of them in the room. The silence in the room almost became deafening, before Hyunjin piped up from next to y/n.

“It seems like we’re a group that can sing. Our littlest soulmate has a very pretty voice, Felix and Han can confirm.” He said, smiling widely.

Hyunjin’s words caused the girl to look down, she had been so much in her own world that she hadn’t realized she was singing out loud. She was a bit flustered and scared of their judgment now, having sung in front of people whose livelihood is singing professionally, despite the fact that Hyunjin had complimented her voice.

“Her voice really is pretty, and it honestly fits well with parts of the song.” Han complimented her further. Felix hummed in agreement.

“Do you wanna hop into the booth and give it a try?” Chan asked, looking at her.

“I’m more worried that I’d embarrass myself if I did that.” She replied.

“Can’t embarrass yourself. Just try, for us?” Minho encouraged her.

She nodded quietly, Han and Changbin pulling her into the booth, and helping set it up for her, pointing out everything she needed to know. She kept fidgeting with her hair, and Felix popped in quickly to tie it back for her, so it was out of the way.

“There you go, sunshine. You’ll do great, I promise.” He told her, before leaving her by herself in the booth.

She put the headphones on her head, taking a deep breath in to try and quiet her anxieties. 

She heard Chan’s voice come through the speakers, “Okay, so you have the lyrics sheet in front of you there, and if you can find Felix’s lines from the first pre-chorus, that’s where I wanted to start you off.”

She nodded, finding it and telling him that she was as ready as she could be. She hadn’t known how to warm up her voice or anything, and she wasn’t going to attempt it with all of them there. But she knew that they knew that she wasn’t on their level, and they just wanted to hear her sing, no pressure at all. Hearing the music start and Chan counted her in, she picked up singing where she was meant to, singing the younger Aussie’s lines.

She didn’t have the courage to look anywhere but at the paper with the lyrics on it, and once she finished her lines, she closed her eyes, worried about what the boys would think. Singing under her breath was different than singing there in the booth, in front of her idol soulmates.

Suddenly, the studio was filled with applause from the boys, as Chan played back what she had recorded for her to listen to. He blush grew as the boys continued cheering and as she listened to her voice. Wow, she didn’t think she could sound that good, especially singing a line meant for Felix. His lines were always iconic, and she didn’t think she could match up to his level, but she still had trouble believing the voice she was hearing was hers. 

“Wow, babygirl, you’re fucking amazing. We might be able to make a singer out of you yet. But only if that’s what you actually wanted. No pressure at all.” Chan complimented her, and she looked through the glass at him, where she could see a smile on his face. 

“Do you wanna sing some more, or are you finished?” Changbin asked, stuttering slightly at the end of his sentence. 

“I think I’m done, this was enough of an adventure today.” She told them, ready to be done already.

Seungmin and Jeongin wished she had wanted to sing more, the vocalracha pairing wanting to hear more of her voice. Her range seemed to be somewhere between all of theirs, but that made her more of a perfect match, she just seemed to fit in with them in every way possible. They quietly discussed this with each other, both of them determined to get her to sing with them some time, maybe take her out to karaoke, and just let her fool around and they can all just enjoy singing when it’s not a work thing. 

All of the boys really just wanted time by themselves with her, but they knew right now it wasn’t as feasible, not with their increasingly busy schedule, and how it wouldn’t be long until they were flying out for concerts again, in between the last legs of their world tour. Plus, y/n needed to head home and pack up her life. Which meant a round of goodbyes when she had to go, which none of them wanted to dwell on at the moment.

When y/n walked back into the studio, she was bombarded with a Channie hug from the man himself, swaying the two of them back and forth, until he was yelled at by his members for hogging her.

“Yah!! Let us have a turn with our soulmate too!” Changbin yelled, jokingly throwing a tantrum. 

“Fine, fine, my god.” Chan sighed and let her go, but not before kissing her dangerously close to her lips.

That caused an uproar from the boys, who, depending on the angle, thought Chris had actually kissed her. Once it was clarified that the two hadn’t locked lips, the yelling quieted down.

“Do any of you have other things to do today?” Y/n asked, looking around.

“Chan-hyung, Bin-hyung and I have to do some more work in the studio today. I know jagiya has some choreography to go over for the upcoming comeback plus making sure the concert choreo is still good to go.” Han chimed in.

“Jeongin and I have vocal lessons today.” Seungmin informed her.

“Hyunjin and I are planning to go out later with some friends.” Felix said. 

“Oh, okay.” She said, after processing all of that information.

“Why? Did you wanna do something? Go somewhere?” Han asked her.

“I kinda wanted to head back home to the dorms, actually. I need some more sleep.” She confessed, a yawn coming out of her mouth only seconds later.

At her mention of the dorms as her home, the boys’ hearts soared, exhilarated to hear her refer to their place like that. They wanted her to feel at home, and it seems despite the setbacks, they’ve managed to do so.

And they had, in y/n’s mind. She wanted to snuggle up in one of their beds, didn’t matter whose, and just take in the care and love they’ve shown her in the last couple days. She was falling hard for them already, though that wasn’t hard. She was lucky to have them as soulmates, and she knew once she was back here to stay, she wanted to get to know each of them. She had eight soulmates, and she wanted eight first dates. But before all of that, she really needed to pack up her life halfway across the globe first. She had eternity with her soulmates, she didn’t need to rush everything right now.

“Hyunjin and I can take you home.” Felix told her, moving to grab her hand. She smiled at him and thanked the two of them. 

“We’ll let you go home now, and we’ll see you later.” Minho told her, smoothing down her hair before pulling her into a hug. 

She was passed between each of the boys, minus the two who’d be going home with her. Everyone had their own individual way of saying goodbye, and there were more than a couple kisses involved, to which she giggled. By the time they left the studio, her hair was a bit messed up, and she was as red as a tomato, but she was smiling from ear to ear. She was in a state of bliss, feeling insanely happy and content. The two boys noticed and smiled to themselves before they each grabbed a hand and walked her out of the building to a waiting van. 

Hyunjin climbed in first, followed by y/n and then finally Felix, all three sitting together in a row. Hyunjin told the driver where to drop them off, as well as to wait for them since the two would be leaving after dropping her home. Thankfully, for y/n since she was exhausted, the ride was quick, and it wasn’t long before they were in the elevator heading up to the 3racha dorm, since Hyunjin offered his bed for her to nap in. 

This was her first time in that dorm, always being in the maknae + lino dorm since she’s been with them. It was definitely messier than the other apartment, but it seemed just as lived in, and she still felt at home here. Once shoes were taken off, Hyunjin led her to his room, and then searched his closet for some comfier clothes in case she wanted to change. Felix waited by the entrance to the other dancer’s room, not wanting to intrude, however y/n had no intentions of ignoring him. 

“Why are you hanging out over here, come on in.” She told him, grabbing his arm and dragging the taller man over to the bed, pulling him down next to her. She latched onto him, leaning her head on his shoulder and sighing happily. “Much better.” She commented.

Hyunjin came back out of his closet to find the two of them on his bed, cooing at them, causing both of them to blush. 

“Look at you two. So cute.” He said, chuckling as he laid the change of clothes over a chair in his room. 

“You come here.” She ordered him, and he crossed the short distance over to them, sitting down on the other side of y/n.

“Yes princess?” He asked her, curious why she wanted him here.

“Now I’m happy. Two of my wonderful soulmates and I get time alone with you both.” She stated, smiling once again.

“That was all you wanted, both of us here?” Felix questioned.

“Yup!” She said simply, not needing to elaborate.

The two men chuckled, looking at each other before leaning in to kiss her cheeks, leaving the girl a bit shocked.

“You can’t just do that to a girl!” She half-shouted, before burying her face in her hands.

“But we can do that to our soulmate, which you are.” Hyunjin said, before leaving another kiss on her cheek, just to be extra cheeky.

Y/n let go of both of them, falling back on the bed, grumbling about soulmates who need to stop making her so flustered.

“But we like making you flustered, sunshine. It’s part of the fun.” Felix chuckled at her reaction, before his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

“We have to go now baby, but remember if you need us, text one of us or the group chat, okay?” The Aussie reminded her, Hyunjin echoing his words.

“Okay, I will if I need to. Have fun with your friends, okay?” She said, looking up at them with sleep-filled eyes, already starting to doze off.

“We will. Sleep well my darling.” Hyunjin said, leaning down to leave a final kiss on her forehead, before he grabbed Felix and the two of them left.

Y/n managed to stay awake for a couple more minutes, hearing the two leave the apartment, before she succumbed to the lure of sleep.

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PANIC ATTACK

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky has a panic attack for the first time since the two of you got together and he’s scared to death that you’d get sick of him and eventually leave

Warnings: Panic attack, swear words,

Word Count: 756

Authors Note: Please do not copy or translate my work. I appreciate every feedbacks! Thank you for reading!

It was 3 am.

Both of you were in Bucky’s room, cuddling with each other and embracing each other’s existence. But out of nowhere, you felt a strong grunt with couple of whimpers and groans following it. You awake by the sound, slowly opened your eyes and tried to adjust to the dark room. As your eyes adapted to the room, you saw Bucky hyperventilating. You were with Bucky for about 5 months, and this was your first time seeing him like this. You heard him talking about them, but to see him having a panic attack, this was the first time. Not even hesitating, you gently tapped Bucky on his arm to wake him up. But he was too deeply consumed in his nightmare that he wasn’t even bothered. So you called out his name and shook him.

"Bucky!! Wake up baby, you’re having a nightmare."

Bucky responded with a groan. So you tried again.

"Bucky, everything’s okay. I just need you to wake up for me baby."

Bucky woke up trying to catch his breath. His hands were trembling, in fact, his whole body was shaking. You cupped Bucky’s face with your tiny hands, and he seemed to calm down a little bit.

"Bucky look at me. Breathe with me okay?"

Bucky nodded, and followed your instructions.

"inhale, one, two, and exhale, one, two. inhale, one, two, and exhale, one, two. You’re doing so well babe."

‘How long was he hiding this from you?’

you thought to yourself. The thought of your soulmate suffering this horrendous episodes all alone. While your mind was running a million miles an hour, Bucky instantly grabbed your torso and pulled you in tight and started sobbing.

"I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up, and I- I- it just-"

"Hey baby look at me."

Bucky let go of your body and looked at you in the eyes.

"You’re okay, you’re safe. You know that right?"

Bucky quietly nodded, avoiding eye contact, ‘cause he knew the moment he saw the hurt in your eyes, he’d burst into tears again. But you didn’t let that happen. You cupped Bucky’s face and started to kiss all over his face. And you could feel Bucky holding in his grin. However, he still had the terror inside his eyes, even though he tried his best to hide it. The fear of losing you was ripping his heart into a million pieces, making his anxiety even worse.

You enveloped your legs around his broad torso and he leaned onto your shoulder. You started caressing his lovely dark hair. And his eyes fell up with tears. He hugged you tightly, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to EVER let go.

Once again it was the two of you in the darkness, becoming each other’s candle.

As the silence caved in, Bucky started to talk.

"You’re not going to leave me right baby?"

His voice was shaking and even though you didn’t look him in the eye, you knew his eyes would be trembling with fear.

"Of course, baby. Why would you think that?"

"What if- what if you get sick of all this? What if you think I can’t be fixed no more. What if you get tired of trying to fix me?"

‘fix?’ It was the first time you heard Bucky use the word ‘fix’. You’ve never thought he’d need fixing. He was just a poor man with a tormented past living as a victim of an experiment. He was just a poor man who just figured what love was, and he was just a man to you who was the most gentle, caring, and loving. You never thought he needed fixing.

"Fix? Bucky you don’t need fixing. You’re not broken. And I’m not dating you to fix you. I’ll never be sick of-"

"But what if you do?"

"Bucky, look at me. I’ll never leave you. I’ll be right here as long as you’ll tolerate me. I’ll break the world into two pieces, I’ll go to space and fight aliens, and I’ll even move mountains just to stay with you. I’ll never get sick of you. Never. You’re stuck with me until we’re gray and old, alright?"

Bucky nodded, and the hug deepened. He trusts you once again, because deep in his heart, he knew you’d love him no matter what. And the link of the two of you will be connected for eternity.