#nct soulmates au

[lily-blue]

Relationship status: taken

☆ characters: uni student!mark & you ☆ genre: soulmate au, college au ☆ warnings: alcohol consumption, insecurities ☆ summary: you live in a world where your soulmate marks tell you fair and square whether your special someone is taken or single; clearly, it shouldn’t be too complicated to figure out who is meant to be for you… ☆ words: 18,4k ☆ also: this day marks the end of the eleventh year of our friendship (and the end of the first whole year since we’ve been living in different countries), crazy, isn’t it? but when you really look at it, i think it’s crazier that among billions of people, i could find someone as amazing and perfect for me as you are. the older i get, the more grateful i am for you and your unconditional love and support ♥ please, stay by my side for many more decades, @dat-town, because there’s just no way i’d ever consider letting you go ♥

Privacy was a unique subject in your world, and something you had always had a hard time to comprehend with your soulmate’s relationship status tattooed on your skin.

When you had been sixteen and stupidly in love with your best friend’s older brother, you had been terrified by the thought that he might have seen you only as a little sister - you had also been super anxious to have your feelings returned and get in a relationship with him just for his mark to remain the same: single. Not to mention the very likely possibility of you having an older soulmate somewhere out there whose heart you would have unintentionally broken the moment you had become someone else’s girlfriend.

At that young age, the concept of love had made you feel so petrified that you had pretty much given up on ever confessing to someone even before you had received your own mark on your eighteenth birthday.

It had come with time, with the influence of many different people and mindsets and your own emotional growth through yearning and heartbreak, but eventually, you could acknowledge that there was less harm in your marks than you had initially thought as a teenager. After all, no one had to be in love with the person they got in a relationship with for the magical tattoos to change. What you needed was a vocal confirmation of your desire to live as a couple, thus breaking off a relationship that wasn’t meant to be could save you from spending precious years on someone who was only killing time with you before settling down with the one their heart was beating for.

Logically speaking, your soulmate marks - when one was mature enough to understand that there was a significant difference between a good match and a perfect match in life - were only there to save people their time and tears. You just had to be brave and open enough to give people a chance to test your compatibility according to a higher power. 

Ironically, your closest friend at university had a completely different take on this matter. She openly hated the way no one seemed to cherish other people’s feelings, belittling their love just because they weren’t the one for them. Yuju romanticised the process of falling in love and those pure feelings that naturally grew stronger the more time one spent with those who made them feel genuinely happy and grateful to be alive. Your differences didn’t come in the way of your friendship, though. In fact, the two of you had become friends when you had seen her scream at someone for breaking up with her childhood friend not a second after their tattoos hadn’t changed once the boy had asked the girl to be his girlfriend.

You admired her for her lack of fear of confrontation. You could have never drawn so much attention to yourself at a crowded coffee shop.

You could barely bear the immense amount of attention your boyfriend was giving you on a daily basis. Hence, you were actually glad that Dejun never complained when you dragged your friend to your public dates, so you wouldn’t have had to be the only one who was asked about her mundane days and was showered in free drinks, snacks and desserts.

(It was also a nice addition that with Yuju present, it was less likely that your boyfriend went overboard with his spending despite being a gentleman who would have rather bought three movie tickets with his own money than let you and your best friend chip in.)

‘Man, you look so disappointed! Haechan will never let me live this down,’ someone’s whiny voice came from your side, effectively pulling you back to the present: to the biggest lecture hall in your university where your Creative writing professor and the Lyrics writing professor from the Music Department had assigned you a partner for your semester project.

With furrowed eyebrows, you straightened your back and looked at the boy who was talking to you.

‘Sorry?’

You couldn’t remember much of what he had said. You had been still thinking about your pizza date with Dejun after your class - for which Yuju couldn’t come with you because of her internship - when his voice had reached you and pulled you out of your head.

The boy lifted his hand and pointed at something on your right. Reluctantly, you turned your head, unsure whether you should have focused on the brunette who was staring at you two like she was about to slice your throat or the goofy guy who had his phone directed at you. The latter could have been as easily taking a selfie with the grumpy guy next to him - Renjun, if you had remembered correctly - as recording your weird conversation with the one who had addressed you.

You turned back to your assumed project partner.

‘What’s happening?’ You asked, hoping that your question didn’t come off as offensive as it sounded in your head. The lecture hall might have already been half-empty, but there were still a lot of students around you, and if this person scolded you for being a scatterbrain, the humiliation would have haunted you for weeks.

‘Don’t mind him, I’ll make him delete the video,’ the boy reassured you, so you finally knew for sure whom he had pointed at a few seconds ago. Still, the revelation left you with more questions than answers. Suddenly, you weren’t sure even of your most logical explanations. Was he really your project partner? Had he already introduced himself? Should you have introduced yourself?

Why was his friend recording your conversation? Was he even close enough for his phone to pick up on what you were saying?

‘… and it’s his new hobby to make fun of me since Haeri asked me out because apparently, I’m awkward with girls, and it’s ridiculous that my soulmate found me while he’s still single…’

You scratched your nape and turned your head back towards the boy’s friend. His phone was still in his hands, and his smile got visibly wider with each passing second as the guy in front of your seat kept rambling, super clearly digging his own grave for no real reason. You didn’t understand why he felt the need to explain their odd dynamic to you, why he was going into so much detail when you were strangers.

Speaking of which…

‘Are you a music major? We’re assigned to do the semester project together, aren’t we?’ You cut him off as gently as you could manage, deliberately disregarding the obnoxious laughter that came from your side almost immediately.

‘Yes, yes we are! That’s why I was asking for your name and whether you wanted to change kkt IDs, but you looked so disappointed, and Haechan thought it was funny how much you hated this pairing already, and…’

Oh. So this was what had happened. He had walked up to you while you had been in your head and mistaken your growing anxiety due to your outdoor date with Dejun for your nonexistent displeasure towards him as a project partner. It was so silly, but it did put the past couple of minutes into context.

You couldn’t help but smile.

‘I’m not disappointed. It’s… it’s just a misunderstanding. I was thinking about something…’ you tried to clear up the mess, mortified as you realised that you had almost told this boy that the real reason for the frown on your face was your boyfriend’s love language rather than your first impression of him. You weren’t usually this chatty, and you scolded yourself even more mentally when you remembered that his friend was recording your conversation. ‘Else. I was thinking about something else.’

‘Really?’ The boy’s surprise was palpable, his distressed facial features slowly morphing into something less tense as he reciprocated your small smile. ‘That’s cool. That’s more than cool, actually. Awesome.’

You weren’t so sure that it was really that awesome, but you decided to just let him be, then introduced yourself properly and you fished your phone out of your hoodie’s pocket, so he could add himself to your friend list on Kakao.

‘So… Mark,’ you stared up at him once he gave your phone back, and you checked his name in your app. His profile picture was unexpectedly cool: he was sitting in a dimly lit studio with neon lights in the background, holding onto what looked like an electric guitar. He was wearing a beanie indoors and you had this uncharacteristic urge to tease him for it despite not knowing him at all. ‘When would you like to brainstorm about our topic? Do you have any part-time jobs or other extra obligations after your classes? Anything we should calculate with?’

‘I do have one actually! I’m working at the vinyl store near campus on the weekends, but most of my classes are morning or early afternoon classes, except for my lyrics writing seminar, which is… right now. So yeah, weekday afternoons are cool with me,’ he explained without taking a look at his timetable, but you guessed it was okay enough since you were already a month into your first semester, which meant most people had memorised their schedules. 

If you still mixed up your Wednesdays and Thursdays, that was no one else’s business but yours. (And maybe Yuju’s, too, since she was the one who always had to remind you to bring breakfast for your first class on Thursdays, otherwise you would need to sit through two long seminars, one after another, with an empty stomach.)

‘That sounds manageable. I also have two free afternoons a week. How often do you think we should meet up? I guess, we both have other classes, too, but this project is fifty percent of our grade, so maybe…’

‘Twice a week works for me. I actually really like this class, you know. So call me nerdy, but I want to give this project my hundred and ten percent this semester,’ Mark confessed, his cheeks taking on a soft, rose-tinted hue, which you found quite endearing.

You were also glad that in spite of his clear discomfort - someone really should have told his friend to stop teasing him with his stupid phone -, the boy took the initiative, so you didn’t have to admit aloud that your grades were actually very important to you. Sure, you wouldn’t have gone as far as to say you were embarrassed that you cared about your education, and you would have mustered up your courage to ask him to take your project more seriously if he had been one of the slackers, but it was definitely easier on your heart this way.

‘You can absolutely call me nerdy then. I’m a self-diagnosed perfectionist,’ you decided to add with a semi-self-conscious giggle just when the silence could have stretched too long, Mark’s eyes lighting up at your confession.

You could see it on his face that he was about to ask you something - your best guess was that just like you, he didn’t have any more classes that afternoon, so he was wondering whether you would have liked to get a headstart on your project together -, but then he quickly pressed his lips together, into a tight smile, when his friend threw his arm over his shoulder.

‘Makgeolli, let’s go,’ the guy with the silver-lavender hair exclaimed, pulling his friend close to his side like he hadn’t been bullying him in the past five minutes or so. You wouldn’t have been surprised if the name he chose to call Mark on had annoyed the other, too. After all, it was hard to picture anyone who would have liked to be addressed as “rice wine” when there were so many other options… 

‘Man, get off me,’ the boy tried to push his friend’s arm off him, but the other was too clingy and insisting, while Mark clearly had enough experience with this kind of behaviour to know that any future attempts would have been futile.

They had such a weird dynamic, it was borderline concerning.

(Now it made more sense why the boy had felt the need to explain his friend’s actions to you despite your short acquaintanceship. Without your project partner’s vocal confirmation, you would have assumed that he was in real danger around the other boy.)

‘Canada, I’m starving,’ the hyperactive boy whined before he pointed at you with his head like you had already been at that level, when you didn’t even know his name. Wasn’t he a bit too mannerless for his own good? Maybe, it wasn’t that his soulmate wasn’t around, it was just she didn’t want to be found. ‘I’ve seen you already exchanged numbers, so we’re good to go,’ he reasoned, his argument reminding you that you couldn’t have worked on your project that afternoon even if you had wanted to. Therefore, Mark and you didn’t have more business together for the time being.

‘Yeah, but…’

‘It’s okay. I actually have… somewhere to be today, so I’ll text you about my schedule later?’ You half-said, half-asked, a little unsure because of all the attention his friend was giving you with his mischievous eyes. Were you hallucinating things, or were his eyes looking for the soulmate mark on your wrist?

You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie lower on instinct, before you stood up abruptly and threw your notebook and glitter gel pens into your backpack.

‘Yeah, sure. I’ll be waiting!’ You swallowed back a giggle when you saw his friend elbow him in the side right after his eager exclamation had left his mouth. His red cheeks and wide eyes were kind of cute. ‘Khm… I mean, not literally. You don’t have to feel pressured, I have other things to do, too. You can text me any time,’ Mark tried to save the situation by making it four times worse.

You willed yourself to take him seriously, though. It felt like the right thing to do.

‘Thanks. But I’ll message you once I’m back at the dorm. Self-diagnosed perfectionist, you know,’ you smiled at him, and tilted your head forwards just enough to be considered as a somewhat polite goodbye when your gaze shifted from him to his friend. You would have felt bad for judging him silently if you hadn’t shown him any manners, either, but this was where you drew the line with people who didn’t pass your vibe check: at the bare minimum. ‘See you.’

Nearing the exit, you could hear both boys reciting the same two words to you in surprising harmony, but you were already too far away from them to tell what his obnoxious friend had said to Mark to make him scream his name from the top of his lungs. Haechan. Hm, it didn’t ring any bells.

Two weeks into your Creative writing project, you could confidently say that your professor tried his best to make his class the most unique and enjoyable that semester. Having shorter lectures in order to provide additional quality time for brainstorming for the students was a praised idea as well, something both Mark and you appreciated despite your frequent text messages and meet-ups. After all, you hadn’t known each other before this semester and to be able to create something as personal as your topic required… You both had to become more comfortable around the other. Otherwise, you would never be able to connect on an intimate - strictly platonic, yet undeniably deep - level. That was just how art worked.

Afraid of possible rumours on campus, the inevitable misunderstandings based on them and how the unnecessary drama would have affected you - a notorious conflict avoider - and your grades, you had told Dejun about Mark and your future interactions at the first chance you had gotten: the moment he had picked you up for your date that afternoon. Like the greenest flag he was, your boyfriend had had more questions about the project itself than the boy as the only thing he truly cared about was that Mark didn’t try to force all the work on you and didn’t act inappropriately in your company.

Which he didn’t. Mark was always on time, he always did his parts, he always brought new ideas to the table and was always kind and respectful towards you even when his actions came off a little timid. So naturally, you had nothing to complain about. Dejun had nothing to be worried about. Everything was beyond picture perfect on paper.

So why was that the more time you spent with Mark Lee, the more you felt like you were cheating on your boyfriend in a way? Even though both of you were mindful of the other’s relationship, hence never sat close enough to one another to start any gossip. There had been one time when you had even refused a free chocolate croissant that a barista had offered you because he had thought you were a couple, hence entitled for their promotion.

Looking down at the half-eaten chicken-mayo sandwich on your plate, then back up at the boy in front of you who was jotting down snippets in his notebook like wildfire, you couldn’t help but wonder whether this nasty feeling inside of you rooted in the fact that you were open with Mark about something immensely personal that you had never had the guts to tell Dejun. Were you unfaithful to your partner whenever you admitted that even after a year with the boy you called your soulmate, you weren’t sure about the hype that surrounded these types of relationships?

Sure, yours was an amazing person who cared for your physical and mental well-being, but as awful as it sounded, you didn’t feel like you couldn’t have lived without him. His affection gave something extra to your boring, everyday life, but you could have gone without his gifts and questions for a long while, which didn’t seem to match with all those low-key desperate and dependent descriptions people could find in papers that analysed this phenomenon.

Where was the gut-wrenching feeling of being away from your soulmate for too long? Where was the soul-consuming contentment their presence was supposed to give you? You weren’t sure you had ever gotten to experience those butterflies in your tummy, either. It was more like anxiety that took over you whenever you thought of all the money and time Dejun spent on you when you were so plain and boring.

Not that you hated your personality. You were confident in your own, quiet way. Something just didn’t add up. It wasn’t how you had pictured it when you had been younger.

‘What do you think about these lines? I’m not quite sure yet… Prof might think it’s a bit too dramatic. Man, I don’t want that,’ he grimaced as he pushed his notebook towards you, then took a sip from his lukewarm drink. The whipped cream on top of Mark’s iced chocolate had become such a sorry sight, honestly.

He didn’t seem to mind, though.

So you didn’t ponder over it, either, despite your unreasonable urge to take it out of his hands and order a new iced chocolate for him for his hard work. He really hadn’t exaggerated when he had said he wanted to give his all during this project.

Hovering over the worn notebook, you read through the new passages, frowning at how much his words actually resonated with you not because it was a bad thing, but because despite the ugly truth in them, they did sound dramatic. You could totally picture your classmates calling you ungrateful for not appreciating what both of you had: a caring significant other.

‘Yeah, I… Maybe we could switch up “lifeless” with… Hm,’ you tapped your lower lip with your index finger once, twice, three times, before you leaned back against your chair and let out a contemplative sigh. ‘You know, I thought writing a whole ass story about the same topic is difficult, but these rhymes! It feels like I’m writing nursery songs when I finally come up with something,’ you let out a pained chuckle because seriously, even with your expanded vocabulary, your ideas were nowhere near as amazing as Mark’s verses.

He was so good at what he was doing.

But then again, he was in his last year just like you. And he had passed the uni entrance exam of his major with flying colours, if his stories could have been trusted.

‘I like your nursery songs,’ Mark comments between two sips, his gaze on his notebook so damn intense, you were kind of convinced he didn’t even notice he was complimenting you. Otherwise, his cheeks would have already had a rose-coloured tint to them (like it usually happened when he felt embarrassed or too exposed). ‘Besides, I could never write over twenty pages about the same characters. That’s just wild.’

You sucked in your lower lip, the sudden hit of shyness dressing your whole face in a darker, crimson colour as you tried to downplay your hard work in your head, as you tried so hard to find the perfect words that could have simultaneously got the spotlight off you and belittle those hours you spent on your stories…

Your struggle must have been written on your face, because before you could have done as much as open your mouth, Mark smiled at you and your mind went blank.

So you just accepted the compliment - was that a compliment? - with a small ‘Thanks,’ and an even smaller smile.

Since you preferred working on your stories in silence, in the sanctuary of your room where no one judged you for rewriting the same paragraphs way too many times, you didn’t have your Google doc pulled up in front of you. However, you did take a couple of notes in your phone while you were munching on the rest of your sandwich.

You liked how neither you, nor Mark felt the need to fill the silence all the time with mindless chatter. You also liked how he was undoubtedly curious, but never pushy. He made sure you knew he was eager to hear about your process, your life even, but kept his questions to the minimum.

It had been a while since you met someone who adjusted to your needs so easily, Yuju being the last and second addition to the group right after your father. 

‘You know…’ Mark started in a neutral voice, urging you to shift your focus point and look up at him. Hence, you did, abandoning your phone slowly as you carefully put it back on the table.

Mark was silent for a moment, wordlessly scribbling out words then rewriting entire lines in his already messy notebook, which admittedly made you smile under your nose. The peculiar sight almost made you believe that you could have written a page or two yourself in the boy’s company: that as unthinkable as it sounded, his presence wouldn’t have forced you out of the zone while you were immersed in your work.

You shook your head to get rid of this useless train of thoughts. It wasn’t appropriate; and the fact that your instincts told you it wasn’t appropriate just made it even more inappropriate, because seriously. Why was it freaking you out internally that the two of you clicked so much when it should have made you relieved instead? Wasn’t it an amazing thing that he was a nice project partner?

‘Sometimes it feels like Haeri likes me more than how much I like her.’

Your eyes widened in shock before you quickly schooled your facial expression. You didn’t want him to feel judged when you were the last person on Earth who had the right to call him out on his confession. Not that anyone should have been allowed to make comments on other people’s personal business, let alone their relationship with their soulmate.

Trying to disregard just how heavy the atmosphere got, you tilted your head sideways and gave the boy a non-judgemental smile, because that was the best you could do with your lack of experience in comforting people. You hoped your seemingly calm demeanour would distract him long enough, so you could think back of the last time your father had helped you through a rough period in your life.

What had he done when you had gotten rejected by the university you had wanted to attend the most? Ah, he had brought you something sweet, a slice of red velvet cake maybe, and told you his own experience with rejections and how he had gotten his shit together each time he had come face to face with a closed door. 

‘Sometimes I get anxious when it’s just the two of us with Dejun.’

The urge to cover your mouth with both of your hands as soon as the words were out in the open was strong, but you tried your best to fight it and act rather nonchalant: like what you had just admitted didn’t go against everything the society taught you about soulmates. Like it was normal that you felt so on edge around someone who was made especially for you.

You reached out for your own drink and slurped it until the last freaking drop, so you had a convenient excuse to stand up and leave the scene. You didn’t look back as you walked up to the counter and stood in the line, wishing for the barista to work at the speed of a snail. You intended to waste at least five or so minutes on waiting, so your heart could have rested a bit before you had to face Mark again.

Why had you said that? You shouldn’t have said that. Not like that. You should have found a better way to put it. Or you should have just kept your mouth shut and found another way to reassure Mark that there was nothing wrong with him.

You felt so ashamed of yourself suddenly. You simultaneously wished that your pitiful words had never gotten back to Dejun and that somehow he had figured your true feelings out, so you could have been freed from this choking weight on your chest.

Since when were you so goddamn selfish?

Once it was your turn to order - it was too soon, way too soon -, you asked for a matcha latte and two slices of chocolate cake, then paid with your card and reassured the barista that his coworker didn’t have to carry your tray to your table, you were more than happy to wait for it by the counter while he took the next customer’s order. If he wanted to look at you funny because of your strange request, he did his best to conceal his thoughts. He simply informed the female barista behind his back about your instructions and turned to the next customer.

Mark said thanks for the sweet treat when you eventually placed the chocolate cake between his drink and notebook and teasingly promised to buy you something equally high in sugar the next time you two met up as he reached out for the tiny, metal fork. He didn’t bring up the soulmate topic for the rest of your supposed brainstorming session despite how it should have been the main subject of your meeting. Instead, he shared random stories with you about Haechan, and how his weird friend was competing for Renjun’s attention these days with a dude called Yuchan - his own partner for the same project you two were working on.

‘He likes Renjun a lot, doesn’t he?’ You asked, more as a mindless statement to show some interest in the topic than anything else.

The boy simply hummed in response, his knowing smile barely hiding in the corner of his mouth as he turned back to his notebook and jotted down a couple of new lines and potential rhymes while you were busy finishing your dessert.

Your afternoon ended up being pretty productive in the end, and the additional two pages you wrote later that night only added to the satisfaction you felt as you got ready for bed.

You didn’t pay any mind to them initially. In fact, you hardly noticed the slight changes in your own body language and the slowly decreasing distance between your bodies whenever you spend some one on one time with Mark outside of your shared class. However, your obliviousness didn’t change the fact that your meetups were getting longer and longer, or that your conversations became more and more diverse.

The first time you heard people talk about your “dates” with the boy, you were at the popular organic coffee shop on campus with Yuju, who immediately pulled you towards a different table when she realised what was going on.

Rumours. There were rumours about you cheating on Dejun with Mark Lee.

Your hands were shaking the whole time you were waiting for your food and drink, and when you finally got them, you tugged on your best friend’s sleeve to plead with her, so she would ask the barista on your behalf to change your order into take away. You didn’t want to spend your free period in public anymore. On the other hand, you also couldn’t make yourself speak up, too ashamed for inconveniencing the poor worker.

You didn’t go to your last class that day. You didn’t even leave your dorm room until Dejun sent you a text that he was waiting for you in the communal area.

Your messy bed hair and your loose sweatpants and hoodie combo had never resembled your mood more than at that moment you dragged yourself to the lounge, towards the khaki couch your boyfriend was sitting on, patiently waiting.

The major part of your anxiety rooted in your belief that your actions and conscious decisions had finally made Dejun see that you were a horrible soulmate. And while you did have your doubts about the whole system and how compatible these magical bonds truly were, the idea of losing your destined partner so early into your life was terrifying.

You were terrified of failing that one person in the world whose life you were supposed to fill with nothing but happiness.

‘It’s okay, love. Come here,’ was the first thing that left the boy’s mouth, and your eyes got a little teary upon seeing his arms spread wide open for you. Like always, he made sure you knew that you could find peace in his embrace if that was what you needed.

You crushed into Dejun’s body without hesitation, and he scooped you up in his arms, letting you get comfortable on his lap despite those students nearby who were not-so-subtly looking at you. You didn’t even notice them, too occupied by holding onto your boyfriend’s tee and hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

‘I’m so sorry. I… I’m so, so, so sorry,’ you apologised over and over again, until your throat got dry and your voice a little husky.

Meanwhile, Dejun kept petting your hair and stroking your back gently with his other hand that didn’t help with your balance.

‘It’s okay. I know you. I know you would never do anything like that,’ he whispered in your ears, reassuring you that he didn’t believe any of those nasty stories that were circulating on campus about you and Mark Lee, and that he would never give you any ultimatums, either, because you were free to make friends regardless of their gender.

Until Mark treated you with respect and didn’t cross your boundaries, he was okay with the guy. Especially because neither of you had ever given him any reasons to suspect you of cheating. You never failed to inform your boyfriend about your meetings in spite of them being regular occurrences, and that one time he had met Mark in front of your lecture hall, the boy had told him he was okay with the two of you going on an impromptu date instead of your scheduled study session if that had been Dejun’s reason for waiting for you. Mark Lee hadn’t thrown a tantrum, he hadn’t tried to make you choose or outright guilt-trip you into staying with him.

He had simply introduced himself and wished you a good time.

‘But the…’

‘Not buts. These people are just bored out of their mind. I’m telling you it’s okay. So believe me, please, when I say these rumours don’t change anything for me,’ he kept coaxing you out of that dark place your mind had pushed you into, starting to rock you back and forth as much as he could in your less than ideal position on the couch.

You didn’t know how long it took him to make you stop blaming yourself for the current situation, and you had no idea how many people witnessed or recorded this intimate moment between you two, but it didn’t really matter in that soft, fluffy bubble Dejun’s love and care created for you to heal in.

You felt safe and secure in your relationship.

Pulling a little further from his shoulder and looking him in the eyes, you had absolutely no doubt about it that he meant every word: both about his feelings for you and about your friendship with Mark.

‘I…’ you choked on your words, unable to express yourself the way you wanted to due to the sudden guilt that washed over you when you realised you couldn’t tell him you loved him, even though a part of you knew you did. You loved Dejun, but saying it out loud felt wrong, almost like a white lie that could break your relationship over time. And you hated how damn frustrated your own incapabilities made you feel.

Because you loved your boyfriend.

You just weren’t sure your love had the same weight his had for you.

‘I’m so grateful for you. I really am,’ you said at the end, slowly lifting your hands to his cheeks and cupping his face. As you were caressing his skin with your thumbs, you wished your eyes could convey just how honest you were at that moment; you wished he knew you loved him in your own way, you were simply too insecure about your feelings in comparison to his.

He gave you too much.

‘I know,’ Dejun gifted you a brilliant smile, before he mimicked your actions and cupped your face, so that he could pull you closer for an innocent peck on the lips. It was lovely, he was lovely, hence naturally, you couldn’t have helped yourself but mirror his pleased grin, your heart lighter and not at the very same time.

It was confusing, this whole soulmate bond you shared, but you decided to not ponder over the torrent inside you, but be happy that you still had this amazing person in your life.

You stayed in the lounge for a little longer, your face buried in the junction between Dejun’s neck and shoulder, then let yourself be convinced to change into less cosy clothes, because apparently, your boyfriend had hoped to take you out on a date once your situation had been sorted out.

Even though it was a program for only the two of you, you didn’t find the power in yourself to cancel his plans. Tagging along was the least you could do for him after he had proven you his unfaltering support.

You didn’t have huge expectations for how the rest of your afternoon would go. Since you had an inkling that it was Yuju who had informed your boyfriend about how upset you were about the rumours, you were kind of certain he was aware that you had never gotten to eat your late lunch after your European Literature lecture around two. Therefore, you accepted that he would feed you as an act of kindness and genuine care for you, and pushed down the knot in your throat that took away your appetite.

Walking up to an empty table at your favourite hamburger place - which was a comfortable, ten-minute walk from your dormitory -, the last thing you could have imagined to see was Mark Lee being berated in public by a pretty brunette you had only ever seen pictures of. Your slow steps came to an immediate halt and your eyes widened in horror when the furious girl abruptly stood up from her chain and reached out for the milkshake her boyfriend was anxiously playing with.

‘Shut the hell up, I’m not doing that. We’re not doing that, you asshole,’ she screamed in his face, and was clearly about to do something drastic when one of the waiters marched up to their table and grabbed the girl’s wrist.

You could feel Dejun’s fingers being wrapped around your own, too, before he gently pulled you towards an empty table on the other side of the customer area. You barely registered your feet moving, hyper fixated on Mark’s resigned face and overall emotionless demeanour. You had never seen him so unresponsive. It was as though he felt nothing - no anger, frustration or desperation, no fear - while his girlfriend felt everything on behalf of the both of them.

The longer you were watching them, the more uneasy you felt and at one point, you had to force yourself to tear your gaze away when you felt your boyfriend push you down on a chair with your back to the commotion. 

‘If you want to comfort him, send him a text,’ he suggested, his voice gentle. There wasn’t a hint of accusation in it, like he wasn’t talking about the very guy people on campus claimed was fucking you behind his back. Your lips trembled not only because of how ashamed you felt at that moment, but because you really, truly wanted to be there for Mark, and Dejun had realised it sooner than your mind had caught up on it. ‘I just don’t want you anywhere near that girl. Especially right now.’

You pursed your lips together and nodded, understanding where he was coming from while you were simultaneously grateful for the reminder of how bad it could have ended if you had given in to your urge to walk up to the couple. You hated public attention - you couldn’t have been able to handle the negative spotlight.

‘I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you,’ you said and reached out for the laminated menu card in the middle of the table despite how familiar both of you were with each item on it. It was more of a way of stalling, of putting yourself back together than anything else.

You didn’t want any of the waiters to come up to you and take your order. You didn’t want any attention on you, no matter how miniscule, until Haeri was still in the same building. You were scared of her anger and just how justified it might have felt if she had blamed you for their relationship troubles.

Dejun reached out for your hand tentatively and stroked your sensitive skin between the base of your thumb and index finger in a calming manner before he started to chat your ears off about the hamburger he wanted to try. Apparently, there were three new items on the menu that you hadn’t even noticed, one of them a burger with two patties, tomato and pickle slices, blueberry jam and various spices you would have never thought of mixing together, but hell if it hadn’t sounded intriguing.

Thus you decided to order a similar one with strawberry jam and caramelised onion rings and refused to think about Haeri, Mark Lee and any of the stupid rumours that might have led to their fight.  

You told yourself you had to set your priorities straight.

You told yourself contacting Mark could have waited an hour or so. Because it could. It had to. You had no justifiable reason to put him before your own relationship.

Except, when you eventually got down to message him, Mark left your first text on read and didn’t open any of the following ones. A nasty voice inside of your head told you that he was reading them through his notifications, but you couldn’t have been sure, thus you couldn’t decide whether you should have felt annoyed or worried.

On the first night, tossing and turning in your bed, you settled on the latter. However, when he purposely avoided as much as looking at you during your weekly Creative writing slash Lyrics writing seminar, it took everything in you to not look hurt and irritated. On the one hand, you had seen his fight with Haeri, so you understood that you might have been the last person he wanted to be near. On the other hand, you didn’t want to accept that either of you had done anything wrong just because you had become friends.

If you had let yourself believe that what you two had was hurting your soulmate bonds, you would have started to spiral again despite how much time and effort your boyfriend had put into convincing you that everything was alright.

That your connection wasn’t damaged.

So you shook your head and accepted his decision with dignity - albeit, with a heavy heart. It was a soothing gel to your open wounds that at least you had already agreed on the plot for your story and his song. This way, you really didn’t have to force any conversations with him that would have surely spoiled your precious memories with the boy.

As expected, Mark Lee didn’t join you during the second half of your class for your usual, light-hearted brainstorming session, so you busied yourself with a book that you were reading for a different course. Not a second after the bell signalled the end of the seminar, you were walking towards the wooden double doors like a man on a mission.

Your steps didn’t falter: not when you heard Haechan calling your name, nor when he scolded Mark for something you didn’t quite catch and had no interest in anyway.

You were a horrible liar. And a horrible soulmate.

Because while you were determined to convince yourself that Mark’s cold behaviour didn’t bother you at all - it was his loss, wasn’t this what people always said? -, you couldn’t stop thinking about his blank face throughout the rest of the day.

Did this alone make you the worst soulmate in history? Debatable. However, what definitely earned you that title was the fact that you were currently cuddled up with your boyfriend on his couch, watching a silly Chinese movie about high school sweethearts, and you had no idea what the real story was about. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about Mark Lee and the possible end of your friendship.

You hissed, skin burning around your soulmate mark underneath your hoodie’s sleeve. It was Dejun’s hoodie, to be precise, but he always put it on his bed, neatly folded, when he knew you were coming over, so you wouldn’t have to look through his massive wardrobe in search of your comfort clothes. This was how precious your time was to him.

How precious you were to him.

You swallowed down the panicked lump in your throat and deliberately disregarded the pain. You told yourself that it was nothing, that until your boyfriend showed no sign of discomfort, it was only in your head. After all, if your bond had reached its breaking point because of your shameful thoughts, he would have felt it, too.

It was so itchy, though, as though your mark craved your attention and was determined to get it no matter what it took. It was driving you up the wall, and it also made it even harder to concentrate on the movie you were watching.

So at one point, you gave in and excused yourself, heading straight to the bathroom.

‘Do you want me to stop it?’ You could hear your boyfriend’s worried voice, and you gave it a quick thought on your way, concluding that it would have been suspicious if you had acted any differently from how you usually were on these nights, so you took him up on the offer despite having no interest in the movie.

As soon as the bathroom door was closed behind your back, you rolled up your sleeve like a maniac and came face to face with your biggest fear: your soulmate was single. Which could only mean two things - one more terrifying than the other.

You let your arm fall back by your side with a defeated sigh and sat down on the toilet lid, so your legs couldn’t give out at the most inconvenient time possible. You had to start breathing again. There was no way you could have afforded falling apart at Dejun’s place after you had single-handedly undermined your shared future.

Pulling on your hair out of frustration, you almost let out an unhinged laughter as you were contemplating which one would have been worse: you losing your soulmate because of a new friendship that might not have existed anymore, or you wasting both Dejun’s and your time in a relationship that was built on a false sense of belonging.

Could it have been a cruel joke that your soulmate marks had changed at the same moment, just when you had agreed to be his girlfriend? Seriously, what were the changes? How many other couples could have been out there, oblivious to the fact that they weren’t meant to be? You had gotten lucky with Dejun, his gentle and caring nature always wanting the best for you, but what about those people who were convinced that they were with the right person while being abused by their own partner?

Your head in the gutter, you couldn’t stop thinking about how much more sense this error in the system made when you were recalling stories about domestic violence, cheaters and financial abuse. God, you felt so stupid. You felt so damn angry.

Why was no one talking about the existence of mismatches? Why were they swept under the rug like they weren’t real?

‘Hey, love! Are you okay in there? Do you need me to bring you some painkillers or a cup of your peppermint tea?’ Dejun’s worried voice filtered through the fog in your mind, your lips trembling because of how amazing this guy was. A gem of a man. He didn’t deserve a shitty fake-soulmate like you.

You choked on the first sob that escaped your throat.

‘Jun…’ you cried, drowning in the crazy mixture of your emotions, unsure which ones were appropriate to begin with and which ones you should have focused on in the first place. You didn’t want to lose Dejun: this one thing you were sure about. However, the ugly realisation that it was more because of the stability he gave you than the love you felt for him filled you with instant disgust.

You were shaking as the world around you slowly fell apart.

‘Can I come in?’ You didn’t respond, but you didn’t have to, because the next thing you heard was your boyfriend warning you in a slightly louder voice: ‘I’m coming in!’

Your body tensed up and relaxed simultaneously when Dejun scooped you up and pulled you against his chest, so he could rest your head in the crook of his neck and caress your back like his touch could brush aside all your distress.

‘It’s okay, everything is okay,’ he repeated over and over, holding you a little tighter once you showed a sign that you were there with him despite your silence. ‘Whatever happened, I’m here for you. I’m here for you.’

‘But you won’t be…’ you objected even though you didn’t truly believe that he would pack his things and leave the moment he realised you weren’t the right person for him. He was just too kind to do something so cruel, especially when you were clearly having a breakdown. If anything, you could have bet on it that he would make sure you were in the right state of mind before he cut you out of his life. Yeah, you had little doubt about that: he would have tried to put you back together before he left.

However, at the end of the day, facts remained facts. He wouldn’t be here for you for much longer and not many things were quite okay, either.

‘I will be. I’m not leaving you,’ he kept repeating, every time a bit firmer, which pretty much made it impossible for you to break the news to him. This imaginary, ugly, sticky, hairy lump in your throat just got bigger and bigger.

So you gave yourself a pitiful moment to bask in the warmth of Dejun, the comfort he never failed to provide you, then slowly pulled away from his chest and rolled up your sleeve. You couldn’t take your eyes off the slightly red skin around your new soulmate mark, which was the less painful sight anyway.

The look on Dejun’s face when the realisation hit him? You could barely steal a glance at it while your gaze loitered over his tense body and hasty movements as he checked his own mark, but it already broke your heart.

‘We are…’ your boyfriend - was he still your boyfriend? - tentatively took your arm into his hand, then brushed his thumb over the new letters, shaking. It was clear that he had a hard time putting his feelings into words, and you couldn’t blame him. Out of the two of you, you had always thought it was him who loved you more. Thus, his pain must have been ten times worse than yours and you were already over at least one mental breakdown.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ you repeated like a broken record, because you genuinely didn’t know how else to express the guilt that weighed down on you even though logically speaking it was neither of your fault. You had agreed to become official, your tattoos had changed, it had worked just like in the textbooks.

Why would anyone have questioned the validity of your bond? You had never been taught about the precautions you should have made. Up until this moment, you didn’t even know it was possible to end up with someone who wasn’t your soulmate.

This whole situation made your head hurt and sucked the energy out of your limbs.

The heavier the silence became, the gloomier the atmosphere got, but you were too drained to figure out how to fix it, so you let Dejun process the unbelievable at his own speed, letting him caress your skin as if his strokes could have erased or re-written the black lines under your skin.

They couldn’t. But they did ease some of the tension in your muscles after a while.

You started to wear long-sleeved clothes and nude covers after that tear-filled night to avoid another wave of nasty rumours around campus about you and your relationship with Dejun. The two of you had decided to talk about your future once you calmed down properly and let yourselves think through your options without jumping to conclusions. As far as Dejun knew the two of you worked well together, so it was understandable why he didn’t want to rush the break-up. On the other hand, your rational side and your heart saw the current situation as the perfect opportunity to start an internal war.

Your life was definitely enviable with Dejun, so you could see the appeal of staying with him for a very long time, building a home together and maybe even starting a family, because you had no doubt about it that he would be a wonderful husband and a wonderful father, but… It finally made sense: why a part of you always missed that something special people liked to brag about when they were talking about their significant other.

Fortunately, the deadlines of your semester projects and lengthy assignments slowly arrived, along with your upcoming exam week, so you were too busy to think about any of the drama in your personal life. Mark Lee ghosting you without any heads up? Who could care about that when they had a six-pages-long essay to finish on the political influence of French literacy? Dejun checking on you every morning, lunch break and evening while also refusing to meet you face to face? Nah, the importance of the founding of Hangul with hundreds of Chinese characters to memorise had to be your top priority.

You couldn’t lose both your boyfriend and your scholarship in the same semester. You had to focus on your education. You also needed to finish the first draft of your thesis by the end of the week.

Letting out a tired sigh, you took a sip from your lukewarm coffee latte and shifted your gaze from your notes to the person in front of the professor’s stand. Renjun was talking about the story he and Yuchan had come up with for this class, yet, if anyone had asked you what was their final topic, you couldn’t have answered beyond the very basics: that just like everyone else, they had built their project around the soulmate system.

God, you couldn’t have waited to be done with this shit for good.

‘Thank you, Yuchan, Renjun,’ the two professors clapped their hands modestly after their constructive feedback, then jotted down a few more comments on their papers and called for the next group.

Your duo with Mark Lee.

Since you hadn’t talked with the boy in a while, you weren’t exactly sure what to expect of your presentation; however, you had done your homework and prepared a neat PPT about your concept, so it should have been okay.

Except, when you walked in front of the class, in front of the stand where Mark was already waiting for you with his guitar in his hand, your brain went blank. He looked… different yet so damn familiar, it was messing with your head.

‘Okay, which one of you would like to start?’ The Lyrics writing professor asked, his curious eyes wandering from you to his own student as he leaned back against his seat comfortably.

You gulped and quickly shook yourself out of your stupor, but before you could have raised your hand or blurted out a timid “Me!”, Mark beat you to it and pulled a chair in front of the professor’s stand, so he could play the guitar with more ease.

You stepped a bit further from him to give him space - you also appreciated the invisibility that came with your decisions, the other students’ attention laser focused on the boy -, and linked your arms under your boobs, pressing your notes against your chest. Due to his sudden silent treatment, you hadn’t had the chance to hear any snippets of the melody in advance, but it didn’t surprise you how soft the short intro had come out to be. 

It sounded beautiful, in a very bittersweet, heart-churning way.

It was the perfect OST for your short story.

Towards the second verse, when he was singing about the oblivious victims of a system that should have only brought them happiness, your eyes filled with tears to the brim, but you quickly turned away and wiped them harshly, because it really wasn’t the time. You would need to present your story in detail in less than two minutes. Three, if you were lucky.

You didn’t remember the presentation. You couldn’t process any of the constructive feedback you received from your professors. The only thing you were quite sure about, somewhere in the back of your head, was that Mark Lee had led you back to your seat by your elbow, then taken a seat in front of you.

The latter was still a thing: his messy, brown hair in your line of sight while the next duo was talking about their own perspectives with vivid hand-gestures, almost like they were openly arguing in front of everyone. It was weird. You felt weird.

Your eager fingers picked on the edge of the nude plaster you had put on your soulmate mark that morning. Deep down you knew that if you had taken off the cover, nothing would have changed. However, a part of you still hoped that things could go back to how they had used to be.

Did that make you a relationship addict?

Had you developed an unreasonable fear of ending up all alone?

You let out an exasperated sigh. It wasn’t healthy: your thoughts focusing on one thing so restlessly like you were starting to become obsessed with your relationship status, although Dejun had never broken up with you. He was still choosing you despite the palpable distance, putting your well-being first. So why couldn’t you just let it go?

You furrowed your brows when you felt the light vibration of your phone against the small of your back, and you turned your upper body slightly in order to fish it out of your tote bag as it could have been something important. You deliberately silenced the voice inside your head that told you it could be Dejun reaching out to you. For one, he also had a class in this period. For two, he was a meticulous person. He wouldn’t have rushed himself make a decision as important as your future together.

You shook your head, mentally debating whether it would have been a good or bad thing if you had been wrong about your boyfriend’s stance on this whole mess, when your gaze fell on the notification on your screen. It was a kakao message from Mark, asking you to meet up with him after your class. Just a laconic “pls. same place, same time”.

You were ashamed to admit, but you were staring at the message for quite a while before you sent back a hopefully nonchalant “ok” and shoved your phone back into your bag. You had mixed feelings about his sudden interest in you, but it was the day of your presentation, the end of your project, so you might have as well entertained him a little. As far as you were concerned, he wanted to discuss the feedback with you or give you his two cents on the rather bitter ending of your story.

You told yourself it was a writer thing: that you wanted to hear his opinion.

It wasn’t that you were hopeful, and God forbid did it mean that you were hoping that the two of you could still be friends.

By the time your shared class ended, you were half-convinced, though. And you also had this baseless confidence that despite your nerves, you appeared to be nonchalant. Whether that was true or not, it didn’t really matter. The belief alone gave you enough strength to not walk a step behind Mark Lee while the two of you were heading towards the coffee shop you had used to frequent at.

You were walking side by side as if everything was alright.

As an introvert, you would have never thought that ordering your drink from a trainee barista you had never seen before could be the least stressful part of your meet-up with someone you had once considered your friend, but as soon as you took a seat and Mark did the same across from you, the silence turned unbearable. It made your palms clammy, your heart rate unstable and your stomach upset with the whole situation. At one point, you were genuinely afraid that the new employee had messed up your order and you would shit yourself on campus because of a few sips of fresh milk, like that was even possible.

You weren’t even lactose-intolerant. You simply preferred drinking plant-based milk, like oat and almond milk, when you had that option because of your acne-prone skin.

‘I broke up with Haeri,’ was the first thing that left the boy’s mouth, and it pretty much made it impossible for you to form any coherent sentence.

Mark had broken his bond with his soulmate - and there was a big possibility that he had been pushed to do so because of the rumours your friendship had started. You felt sick to your stomach. You had no idea what to say, whether to comfort him or give him advice. Whether you were even qualified to act as a relationship expert when yours was hanging on by a thin thread.

You refused to take your eyes off your drink, your quiet reaction no more than a soft hum. You wished Mark would have told you what he had expected from this conversation. If he had wanted to reconcile or simply inform you about his break-up before the two of you went on separate ways.

The carrot cake you ordered was way too sweet. You frowned once you swallowed down the first bite.

‘Both of our soulmate marks stayed the same, though…’ he added after a bit of hesitation, like he was carefully looking for the words to explain the situation. ‘Which means our real soulmates are… yeah. Still in relationships.’

Eyes wide like saucers, you looked at Mark in bewilderment. So Dejun and you weren’t the only ones. (Of course, you weren’t the only ones, that part had never been a question!) God, if it hadn’t felt unreal to know someone who was going through the same experience! What were the chances?

‘Dejun is not my soulmate,’ you blurted out without any regard for those who were sitting at the table next to yours or checking if anyone was listening in on your conversation. Maybe, it wasn’t the wisest idea to discuss something so raw and intimate in a public space; however, at that moment these concerns barely crossed your mind.

You accidentally found someone who could fully understand your current fears and struggles without being involved in the situation itself. Someone who had enough insight to support you without the need to shelter his own heart, thus distance himself from you. That was… you were right, and he finally decided to stop ghosting you in the first place.

‘Oh…’ Mark acknowledged your confession with a disappointed little sound, his lips jutting out while he stole a quick glance at the soulmate mark on his wrist.

Your surprise was genuine when you realised that unlike you, he was wearing his unchanged tattoo on his skin with confidence. But you figured, it was different when most people around him still thought he was happy and very much together with Haeri.

He would have had more questions to answer if he had suddenly started to cover up the proof of their love.

‘Do you think the profs liked our take on the topic?’ You asked when the silence became too long, and Mark showed no sign of adding anything more to your discussion. You took a small yet determined bite from your cake. It was still overly sweet, but you would be damned if you had let it go to waste for the money you had spent on it. ‘I kind of… zoned out when they were giving us feedback.’

The corner of Mark’s lips twitched, but he tried his best to swallow back his giggles. He even went as far as reaching out for his drink, so he could occupy himself in a somewhat subtle way.

He was painfully obvious. Still, you appreciated the gesture almost as much - if not more - as his willingness to go along with your lame attempt at changing the topic.

Two hours and a half had never flown by so fast, so easily.

Your life took on a new norm after your final exams.

For once, you moved back to Ansan for the school break (partly) to save some money on savoury fast food and unnecessarily yet aesthetic coffee dates that you liked to take yourself on. It was also less stressful to work on your thesis in the comfort of your childhood home, your dad never the one to skip out on serving you freshly cut, peeled fruit slices to boost your brain. Naturally, the closeness of your family was a real remedy for your troubled soul.

Meanwhile, Mark Lee took it upon himself to keep you updated on the city life and got into a never-ending conversation with you on instagram and kakao, his random questions and lyrics snippers seldom preceded by any hellos or his. Long story short, he took the whole “never making you feel ghosted or left out again” very seriously, even though you had reassured him on multiple occasions that you didn’t have to know everything about his days. Once he had started, there had been no turning back.

He kept your mind constantly occupied - that was your only excuse for forgetting about your relationship troubles with Dejun and not realising just how unhealthy and dependent it was to keep sending your boyfriend the same three messages each and every day: a curt good night, a somewhat more lively good morning and a repeated promise that you were taking good care of yourself despite your tendency to skip meals when they weren’t pre-made.

So imagine your surprise when Mark absent-mindedly asked you during one of your chill video calls whether you were still in a relationship despite your new soulmate mark, and the answer didn’t come to you as naturally as it was supposed to. Sure, Dejun wasn’t your one and only whom the universe had sent especially to you, and it had been over a month since you had seen his face, but he had promised you that… 

You still referred to him as your boyfriend in your head!

Not to mention that he would have told you if he had made up his mind, if he had wanted to put an end to your relationship and stay in your life only as a friend. Because he would have wanted to stay in your life, wouldn’t he? He had said he wasn’t leaving you, he just needed some time to digest the undeniable: that your soulmate was suddenly single, but the two of you had never broken up.

You had never broken up. You still hadn’t broken up.

Right?

‘I think so?’ You semi-asked, semi-claimed while you were picking on your nails, resisting the urge to pick up the fantasy book you had carefully put on your bedside table when Mark had called you. It was difficult to look into your front camera, so you kept your gaze on your hands.

‘You think so?’ The boy asked back, clearly taken aback by your answer.

You huffed, annoyed at him for no reason. 

Hell. Maybe it was yourself you were truly frustrated with. Had you even made the smallest attempt at fixing your relationship with Dejun? You were just waiting on him as though the ball was on his court now when in reality, you had never made the first move.

It was comfortable, way too comfortable, that you didn’t have to deal with the situation head on since Dejun wasn’t around. Because he “needed space”. When had been the last time you had checked on how he was doing? A good girlfriend would have been more worried about his well-being.

You gulped as a sudden wave of guilt washed over you.

‘I didn’t…’ you let out another strained sigh, your cheeks burning due to embarrassment, although you were fairly confident that Mark wouldn’t have judged you for what you were about to say. ‘I haven’t seen him in a while, and I never really asked him how he feels about us or… how he feels.’

‘Oh…’

‘It sounds horrible,’ you murmured under your nose, willing yourself to glance at the screen of your phone, so you could see Mark’s face. You had to look him in the eye to decipher how he felt about your actions, because his silence wasn’t easy to read. Was he disappointed? Did he think you were a bad person?

Somehow, the first option was scarier.

‘I’m not gonna lie, man, it does sound like you’re delaying the inevitable because it’s easy to not be the “bad guy” who breaks his heart, but…’

‘But?’ You interjected a little desperately as you were hoping that there would come a part in which you didn’t sound as selfish as you did in his analysis. Surely, you weren’t keeping your boyfriend in your relationship because it was convenient or because you were a coward who couldn’t put an end to your suffering.

You swallowed back a groan. You were being ridiculous, comparing whatever you two had to real agony. 

‘You’re not a horrible person. I know you, you were talking about yourself and not this whole thing when you said that, so yeah. Don’t think about yourself that way, because it’s not true,’ he confirmed a second time, sending you a tight-lipped smile through the camera before he turned over and made himself more comfortable on his own bed.

You reciprocated the gesture with a smaller albeit grateful smile.

The two of you stayed silent for a while. Mark was humming a song you hadn’t recognized, while you were thinking about how to make things right.

‘Do you think I should meet up with him? Talk things through? Break up with him?’ You asked, but the more you spoke, the clearer it became that these were exactly the things you had to do, so you weren’t actually surprised when instead of giving you a direct answer, Mark gifted you a proud smile and asked you about your thesis.

He was so unsubtle whenever he made an attempt at diverting the topic, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you found it quite adorable.

‘Actually! I might be able to wrap-up my analysis this week. It depends on whether or not my period gets in the way on the weekend,’ you bragged, genuinely proud of your progress that was only possible because you loved the topic you were researching: the differences between the storytelling of theatre plays and movies written for the silver screen.

‘Cool,’ Mark smiled at you, his teeth on full display. ‘Don’t push yourself too hard, though. You still have a lot of time until the deadline,’ he reminded you immediately, which gave you the perfect opportunity to tease him about his over-protectiveness and his own progress.

You didn’t think about Dejun for the rest of your call, but that also served as another reminder that it was time you started to be honest with him and yourself. Your issues hadn’t started with the change of your soulmate mark. They hadn’t even been brought upon you by the rumours that were still circulating around campus.

They had been there from the very beginning, in your heart, in the way you had always felt the need to invite your friend to your dates with Dejun, in your mild anxiety when the two of you were together without someone else keeping your boyfriend’s attention off of you.

You might have loved Dejun, you still did. However, you had never been in love with him, you could see it now clearly: the subtle yet undeniable difference between these two feelings. God, it was time, wasn’t it? That you finally set him free.

You went back to the capital city the next Saturday, because that was the first afternoon when neither did Dejun have an eight-hour-shift prior, nor were you in constant pain that made you feel easily irritable. One would have thought that one of these conditions would make THE TALK that much easier, but nothing could spare you the heartbreak.

In hindsight, you were grateful to the boy for allowing you - and suggesting - to have this conversation at his own place instead of in the uni dorm or at a public coffee shop, because you were shamelessly ugly crying while you were talking about your doubts and insecurities you had never mentioned to him while you two had been together. It was hard, seeing the hurt in his eyes. It was harder, when despite everything, he still tried to comfort you on his couch, but you did feel a little lighter by the time you two said your goodbyes.

Feeling melancholic, you blinked away another stubborn tear while looking up at the ceiling, then muffled a broken sob that threatened to escape your throat. You were in public now, trying to mend your heart with your favourite blueberry milkshake - and a slice of chocolate cake -, so you really couldn’t have afforded to break down again. That would have done no good to anyone involved; you got exhausted from the mere thought of more drama.

‘Here,’ you heard a familiar voice coming from across the table and something heavy being placed on the metal furniture. Confused, you let your head fall forwards and stared at the new glass of untouched blueberry milkshake in front of you. ‘This one is on me,’ Mark Lee said, not showing any signs of willingness to sit with you - nor to leave you be.

You pressed your lips into a thin line.

‘What are you doing here?’ You asked, because it was easier than saying thank you. Still, you made sure Mark knew you wouldn’t have minded if he stayed by not-so-subtly dragging your gaze from his face to the empty chair at your table, repeating the movement as many times as he needed to see it to understand.

Mark scoffed, more amused than anything, then took a seat.

‘You told me you were about to meet Dejun like…’ he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. ‘Four hours ago. Then, you went complete radio silence,’ he explained, making you frown. Had it been really that long since you had gotten off the bus near your ex-boyfriend’s place? ‘I was worried about you.’

It still didn’t explain how he had known where to find you when it wasn’t your usual coffee shop on campus, but you figured, you must have mentioned this particular milkshake shop to him enough times for him to draw the right conclusion. It was touching, that he paid so much attention quietly, and just knew when you needed someone’s silent support.

Albeit still only halfway through your first drink, you reached out for the free milkshake and pulled it closer to yourself with a grateful smile.

‘Thanks,’ you exclaimed with a bit more enthusiasm, although your liveliness soon deflated as you didn’t know how to start a light-hearted conversation. You didn’t necessarily want to talk about your mental breakdown in your ex-boyfriend’s living room, still embarrassed about the fact that you had needed to be comforted by the same person you had been deliberately breaking up with.

‘So…’ Mark broke the silence once you finished your first shake as though he wanted you to enjoy every drop of it before he dropped a bomb on you in public. You weren’t sure if his consideration had made any difference, but it was undoubtedly nice to not choke on your drink, so you decided to be grateful. ‘How did it go? Are you two singles again?’

Your first instinct was to hide your soulmate mark from him, which was stupid and irrational, but you guessed that was how instincts were. Your brain didn’t have much say in the process, overwhelmed by your inner need to protect yourself. Like Mark would have ever hurt you. Like your tattoo would have been affected by your recent break-up when its curves and lines had never had any connection to Dejun.

Slowly, you took your hand off your wrist and shrugged.

‘I guess so. I mean… His soulmate is still in a relationship, but… We both acknowledged verbally that we are no longer together, so somewhere in the world, his person also got a new tattoo and…’ you rambled, going on strong about the terrifying possibility that his soulmate - his real soulmate - might have also just realised that she had been in a fake “we’re meant to be” relationship this whole time.

The butterfly effect had never sounded so real and frightening - like a divine punishment that reached hundreds of thousands of innocent people just because once upon a time, two had made a silly mistake.

Someone took your hand. Mark took your hand, and only then you realised that you were trembling slightly. With anxiety? With frustration? Anger? You weren’t sure. Maybe, with a mixture of all three and more.

‘Take a deep breath,’ he instructed you gently, rubbing tentative circles into your skin, on the back of your hand that actually helped a lot more than you would have thought. ‘I know it feels like that right now, but not every relationship is as messed up as you think. Sure, there are people out there like us, like Dejun and Haeri, but there are others, too, who found their person and are happy,’ he said in a quiet voice, holding onto you the whole time.

You wanted to protest, you wanted to tell him how messed up the world was, but was there anything new you could have said to him? Mark was right, he had gone through something similar with his own ex. He knew.

Yet, he sounded almost hopeful. As though he still believed in his bond with his real love, his real partner for life. In the embodiment of the other half of his soul.

You scoffed and turned your head away, but didn’t take your hand out of his hold.

‘I’d like to show you something,’ he tried to ease you back into the conversation, squeezing your fingers lightly to get your attention, which you gave to him without much coaxing. He gifted you a brilliant smile in return.

Mark let go of your hand soon after, so that he could roll up his hoodie’s sleeve and show you his inked wrist.

Single.

His soulmate was single.

‘It changed not long after your last message. Maybe an hour, an hour and a half into your meet-up,’ he confessed, simultaneously shocking and rendering your brain. Was he trying to tell you that he was…

You yanked your hand out of his and stood up abruptly.

‘I’m sorry but… I really can’t do this now. I’m sorry,’ you apologised while you gathered all of your stuff and bolted out of the milkshake place as fast as an olympic athlete.

You weren’t dense. And despite those mistakes you had undoubtedly made during your first relationship, the insecurities and uncertainty each and every one of them had brought into your life, you could see the logic behind Mark’s reasoning. You could see the potential of the two of you becoming more than friends in the future regardless of your differences, because at the end of the day, he made you feel balance and peace.

However, your first-hand experience with misleading hints and mistaken bonds held you back from accepting his theory with open arms. For one, there could have been dozens of other people out there who had gotten single in that time frame he had mentioned. It didn’t matter to your brain that your tattoo had also changed after his fight with Haeri, which should have been suspicious. For two, you weren’t in love with Mark. Sure, you liked the guy, you might have gone as far as to say you felt connected to him on your good days, but was that enough to risk being tricked by destiny for a second time?

Your heart was still tender, and you told this much to Mark who reassured you that he hadn’t intended to come off that strong. He liked you as a person, and more than wanting to be your boyfriend, he wanted to be someone you felt comfortable around, so he was fine staying just your friend. A close friend, but a friend nevertheless.

His words gave you a reason to resist your urge to shut him out. Naturally, you needed a few days to respond to his triple texts and worried voice notes, but once you convinced yourself that meeting him face to face wouldn’t end up in a disaster, your friendship healed itself on its own.

So it didn’t feel rushed when after the new semester began, you started to spend more time in each other’s company than you had done so during your project regardless whether you were working on your schoolwork or enjoying your scarce free time. You justified your decision to meet-up with the boy regularly during your free periods by claiming that Mark brought the best study snacks to your study sessions out of everyone you had ever worked with. He was also a perfectionist, so he understood your need to finish your tasks in advance and never disturbed you when you were writing your assignments. He was… just right, in every sense of the word.

He fitted in your life so seamlessly, without taking you away from your family, Yuju or your other, less present friends, it was insane. Yet, whenever your heart tried to tear down the wall that you had deliberately built between the two of you, your mind hesitated.

It was too early. It was too soon.

And then, it was already time for the annual New Year’s party in your dorm. Time was such a weird, human-made construct.

‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ You could hear Yuju’s concerned voice when you reached out for one of the shot glasses in the middle of the communal kitchen table, the amateurly mixed brandy-soda-coke combo promising nothing good after your second can of cheap beer. Most of the time, you weren’t a big drinker. Not to mention that you hadn’t been to any social gatherings since the semester kick off party way back in February, long before most students had learned your name around campus. However, this time, you had an acceptable reason to put your limits to the test.

After all, it hadn’t been ten minutes since your best friend had asked for your blessing as apparently, she and Dejun had gotten closer after your break-up in August and started to develop feelings for each other along the way. Obviously, Yuju had made sure you knew she would have turned down the guy if any possibility of them working out despite the odds had hurt you, but should your opinion have mattered that much?

Dejun and you had already been history. And while you appreciated Yuju’s thoughtfulness, it made you feel a tad troubled: that a part of her might have seriously considered it as an option that you wouldn’t have been able to put her happiness first.

That aside, you obviously weren’t unaffected by the revelation. You couldn’t put your finger on how they were so ready to give a try to a future together when their real soulmates were out there somewhere, completely unaware of their decision to settle down with someone else. With a person who shouldn’t have felt perfect, right or a complementary part of their life. How could Dejun - of ALL people - be so unafraid when you were terrified to let Mark in?

As another wave of realisation hit you in the face, and you once again learned something new about yourself and your feelings, you sent a bittersweet yet reassuring smile in your friend’s way and lifted your drink a little higher.

‘It’s the last day of the year. If I’m about to make mistakes, there’s no better time for it,’ you reasoned, finding it absolutely hilarious how uncharacteristic you sounded even to your own ears. ‘It’s not because of you guys, I promise, it’s not,’ you added, though, almost as an afterthought, because the concern in Yuju’s eyes didn’t seem to fade, and you didn’t want her to give up on a happy relationship due to something you had to deal with on your own.

It took Yuju an eye-killing staring contest to not question your sincerity, but she did give you a semi-convinced nod after she had lost, so you were able to join the group shot. You could even have a second round before she pointed at something behind your back and informed you that Mark Lee was clearly elbowing his way through the crowd to get to you.

Just the person you wanted to see! How did he even know on which floor you were when the dorm had six floors, each one of them filled with students partying for a different genre of music?

Your heart skipped a silly beat when your fuzzy mind came up with the idea that Mark Lee was going through floor after floor just to find you. Then, it sped up again as you imagined him knowing you well enough to be aware of where you would be hiding from him. (If you had been really hiding from him, which you obviously didn’t do and would have never admitted doing so, anyway.)

‘So it’s the 2000s’ Disney classics now, hah?’ He greeted you with a cheeky smile, his brown orbs twinkling with amusement and a pinch of mischief - two things you tried to shut out as much as possible. Dealing with his stupid grin was already challenging enough, you didn’t need more.

‘Everyone loves High School Musical,’ you retorted, although you both knew these kinds of songs weren’t high on your preference list. In fact, you could have been found listening to drama and anime OSTs sooner than any of these western classics.

Luckily, Mark was wise enough to not call you out on your bullshit for the second time under one minute.

‘Hey, Mark! Can you make sure she doesn’t drink too much, at least, not unsupervised? The second floor has, apparently, a few legendary ballads in their karaoke machine, and I want to get there before Dejun is up,’ Yuju explained before she turned towards you and cupped your cheeks with her hands. Your pout was genuine and sulky, not because she was about to check on her soon-to-be-boyfriend or because said boyfriend-to-be was your ex, but because she was about to ditch you and consequently leave you alone with your supposed-to-be soulmate. You whined as you held onto her sleeve. ‘I’ll be back in an hour. Be good,’ she reassured you right before she peeled your fingers off her clothes and left.

Your lips trembled in distress as your head fell forwards and your shoulders sagged.

You barely flinched when Mark’s palm tentatively touched your blade bone. In fact, the warm breath that accompanied his worried ‘Are you okay?’ had a lot more impact on you when he leaned closer to make sure you could hear him clearly.

As you slowly turned around to face him, you were wondering how it would have felt to just let yourself be and seek comfort in Mark’s closeness. Would he have found it weird if you had buried your face in the crook of his neck? Should you have gone for his chest instead, using it as a pillow and a safe haven?

Why were you still hesitating when you knew he was convinced the two of you were meant to be? Why couldn’t you admit that none of these questions were about him? They were all about you. It was you who couldn’t decide whether hugging him more intimately would have made you feel creeped out. It was you who had a hard time accepting that the only thing you had to do was giving it a try and you could have been more.

So, so much more.

‘Man, do you need some water? Are you about to throw up?’

You had no idea what kind of face you were making, but you must have looked horrible or in pain. Otherwise, Mark wouldn’t have been thinking in such extremes, wouldn’t he?

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. Yet, he gently led you to the sink in the communal kitchen and got you a glass of cool, filtered water just to be sure.

The two of you stood in front of the sink in silence for God knew how long. The songs came and went, some more upbeat than others, some blending into the conversations around you. You kept your gaze on the half-empty glass in your hand, unsure and a tad insecure about too many things to keep count of.

‘Yuju and Dejun like each other,’ you blurted out at the most random moment, without any sign or warning in advance. If anyone had asked - if Mark had asked -, you would have put the blame on those shots you had drunk not that long ago, and a part of you actually believed there was some truth to your excuse. Being tipsy weakened your filters, so the words came out more easily.

Your thoughts were out in the open.

‘I think they will be official soon. Boyfriend and girlfriend,’ you added when your rambling was met with no verbal reaction, then took a forced gulp from your water because it started to feel a little embarrassing: the lack of response, the one-sided conversation.

‘Does it bother you?’ Mark asked eventually, slowly taking the empty glass out of your hand, so he could refill it for you.

‘No… Yes… No, but…’ You were struggling to find the correct words, maybe because your head was a mess, and you were trying to explain everything all at once when it wasn’t that simple. Your thoughts on the situation were complicated since this piece of information was still new to you. You had barely had time to comprehend, let alone accept the drastic change in your best friend and your ex’s relationship.

Mark’s fingers were cold and wet when they sneaked around your wrist and pulled your hand closer. The movement, sharp but gentle, pulled you back to the present.

‘If you still—’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

You didn’t let him finish, cutting him off a bit too loudly, which gained a couple of students’ attention for a brisk moment. Cheeks hot and scarlet red, you felt relieved when you realised that your sudden silence and the overall upbeat atmosphere of the ongoing party made them move on from the awkward situation quite quickly.

You willed your lungs to take in some of the suffocating air while you simultaneously mustered up your courage to place your palm on Mark’s chest to keep him still physically as well. You needed him to listen to everything you wanted to say, otherwise, there was a chance he might have misunderstood the mess in your head that you yourself also had to detangle real time, during your all-over-the-place monologue.

‘Yes, their relationship bothers me, but…’ you started, digging your fingers into Mark’s chest a bit firmer. You bit into your right cheek from the inside quite harshly as you were fighting against your growing frustration. ‘The fact that they are happy together? I know that I can get over that.’

Maybe, it would take a few days. Maybe, it would feel weird to see them together the first couple of times, especially if they held hands or cuddled in front of you, but you were pretty confident this development wouldn’t have hurt your relationship with either of them. And Mark seemed to believe you if his encouraging, almost proud smile was anything to go by.

You nodded to yourself, satisfied with where this conversation was going.

You could do it. In that moment, with alcohol coursing through your veins and Mark Lee smiling down at you like you were invincible, you truly believed that you could accomplish anything.

‘Their relationship bothers me because… Because!’ You were almost there, you could feel the words on the tip of your tongue. ‘They see a future together despite knowing they weren’t meant for each other and… And…’ You gulped, desperate eyes boring deep into Mark’s. ‘And I’m too afraid to be with you and see our tattoos remain the same.’

There it was. 

It hadn’t been that hard, had it?

(It had been.)

You didn’t realise how much energy it had taken you to confess until you were over it and the lack of stress left you with nothing. For a second, you felt numb. Then, your shoulders fell forwards and all you could feel was the tiredness in your bones.

It was a long night - despite the clock still one and a half hours away from midnight - with a lot of interactions you weren’t quite used to. Your social battery could only do so much after dealing with Yuju and now… even with your own feelings for your possible other half.

‘It’s okay. We don’t have to put a label on us until you like me enough to not care even if our marks remain the same,’ Mark reassured you, petting your head like you were some child, although you had to admit that it did feel nice. So you closed your eyes to be able to enjoy it more - with one sense being shut down, the others like touch were bound to get heightened, you supposed -, the goofy smile on your face a clear indication that you were more than just tipsy at that point. ‘Do you wanna go back to your room? I can get Haechan to buy us some ice cream or something,’ the boy offered, making you giggle for no goddamn reason. Still, it was funny, picturing him begging his friend to get you something sweet from 7-eleven when he must have been also partying somewhere in the building.

‘I have potato chips under the bed,’ you announced, willingly tailing Mark after he took your words as an okay sign and started to pull you towards the hallway.

Much to your surprise, the music remained just as overpowering until you reached the third or fourth room, however, Yuju and you lived at the end of the corridor, near the communal shower area, so it was all dandy. Once you were behind closed doors, the party turned into literal background noise.

‘So…’ Mark started, and on any other day, you might have been able to sense his uncertainty about how to act nonchalant in a room where it was only the two of you, but at that moment, all you could concentrate on was how good it felt: the relative silence after people screaming around you for hours while pretending to be singing.

You sat down on the edge of your bed and laid back with a relieved sigh. The mattress was so damn comfortable, you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

And you might have just blacked out for a second after that thought had hit you, because the next thing you were aware of was a pair of calloused fingertips grazing along your temple. A feather-light weight on your entire body. Someone apologising for the jeans you would need to sleep in and then…

Then, a pair of pillowy lips, chapped and unexpectedly soft, touched the top of your head.

Albeit shocked, you didn’t find the power in you to re-open your eyes.

The next day, you woke up with a massive headache and a sore body that you wholeheartedly blamed on those jeans you were still wearing as though you hadn’t been completely yourself when you had gotten ready for bed.

You couldn’t recall much after Yuju had left you alone with Mark. At least, not until you fell back on your sheets and the phantom caress of two firm, hardworking fingers punched you in the guts.

Shit! You had fallen asleep while Mark had been still in your room. It had been his first time in your safe space and you had blacked out before you could have given him a tour or… Had he tried to talk to you? Had you managed to completely ignore his existence? Ahgrr. He must have felt so uncomfortable.

A mild panic attack started to brew in the pits of your stomach. Consequently, your carnal need to check up on the boy and confirm that nothing had changed between the two of you pushed the symptoms of your hangover in the back of your mind. Like you had never been in physical pain.

You jumped out of bed as quickly as if someone had set the whole furniture on fire. Your eyes were loitering over your interior rapidly, searching for your phone since you honest to God couldn’t have told where you had put it the previous night. Knowing yourself, it could have been anywhere from the back pocket of your jeans to the dusty floor under your desk, hence you proceeded with an open mind.

Just to find it on the pillow you hadn’t even used, plugged into your charger. The thoughtful sight dressed your cheeks in a light shade of coral pink.

Tentatively, you laid back on the sheets and took the slightly warm device in your hands. You used your fingerprint to unlock the phone, then opened your kakao app, because reading only the notifications would have been useless with the amount of unread messages you had.

Your thumb was hovering over the latest text you had received, Mark’s full name greeting you with a guitar and a nerd emoji next to it, but then your gaze fell on your chat with your best friend, and you decided to be more reasonable. Sure, the fact that she clearly wasn’t in your shared room despite her inability to reach you must have meant that she knew you were okay, but still… It was only fair you put her first.

It didn’t matter that you were more curious about those five messages Mark had apparently sent you. 

It also didn’t matter that the sole reason you hadn’t fallen back asleep was your eagerness to clear up any possible misunderstandings with the boy: like him interpreting your behaviour last night as if you couldn’t have cared less about him.

You cared so much about him.

(Too much, maybe. You just sucked at expressing it and were a coward who couldn’t admit these kinds of things even to herself.)

Your smile was brilliant when you skimmed through Yuju’s messages and noticed the visible change in her tone once she had gotten to know that albeit wasted, you were well taken care of. She said Mark had called her as soon as he had tucked you in - his words, not hers -, then reminded you of the first aid kit in her lowest drawer where you could find painkillers in case you were struggling. She also lectured you about drinking too much alcohol, but it was hard to take her words to heart when she wished you a happy new year and promised you to bring home some chicken trio pizza for dinner on her way home.

You sent her a selfie with your thumb up and reassured her that she didn’t have to rush. You could take care of yourself just fine - and you didn’t have any groundbreaking plans for the first day of the year anyway. To be honest, you doubted you would even leave the safety of your room for more than occasional toilet breaks.

Your lazy plans immediately got cancelled, though, when you opened Mark’s messages and saw that he had invited you out for a brunch slash lunch, depending on when you woke up or which one you were more up to.

You didn’t realise how ravenous you were until your eyes fell on the photo he had sent you of the sunny side ups that he had made for breakfast, offering to cook something simple for you in the communal kitchen in case you didn’t feel like going out. (And while you appreciated the thought and were genuinely tempted to spend the whole day on your bed with him, you couldn’t have helped but remember his friends’ teasing, which heavily indicated that he was a horrible cook.)

You asked for an hour to put yourself together and let him decide where you would eat until the restaurant wouldn’t be too crowded and the food wouldn’t be too heavy on your sensitive stomach. Your hangover was no joke. Just thinking of your favourite pizza, you already felt like throwing up again.

Had you even thrown up the previous night? For the life of you, you couldn’t tell.

But it didn’t really matter. Because the moment you stepped outside of your room, you came face to face with Mark Lee, and he gave you that look: the look that said he was happy to see you and might have even thought you were pretty despite the oversized hoodie and leggings combo you were wearing, hair in a messy bun on the top of your head. There was no way he felt grossed out by the sight of you even though he had been the last person who had seen you last night.

You gave him a small, almost bashful smile.

The diner Mark chose was a noodle soup shop near campus that you had never tried before, but you trusted his taste and did not get disappointed when the middle aged ahjumma placed two steaming bowls on your table in the back. The smell was rich, but not overpowering. The taste… The taste was heavenly.

‘Last night was pretty wild, hah? I usually don’t drink that much, by the way. You can take my words on that,’ you stirred up a conversation as soon as the boy’s eyes on each and every movement of yours started to get a tad overwhelming. Not in a bad way, of course. You rarely felt any negative emotions when you were with him; you considered thinking about the boy when he wasn’t around a completely different thing. And even then it was more about your insecurities and fears, never about something he did intentionally.

Gosh, here you were again, casually overthinking like it was your hobby.

‘Were you drinking because of me?’

You froze with your hand in mid-air, noodles slipping through your chopsticks as your grip got weaker due to your shock. The broth splashed on your face the moment they hit the soup, the hot liquid burning your skin a little, though that wasn’t the real reason your cheeks put on a light, pinkish shade.

You hadn’t seen it coming: the almost confrontational turn your conversation had just taken when it was Mark sitting in front of you. It would have been different if it had been Yuju or Mark’s talkative (and lowkey annoying nosy) friend, but… It was Mark!

You were lucky, you hadn’t choked on your meal.

‘I…’ You cleared your throat, unintentionally making the atmosphere heavier. You couldn’t look Mark in the eyes. ‘Maybe?’ You half-admitted as you placed the chopsticks on the edge of your bowl and dropped your hands in your lap with a helpless sigh. You didn’t want to lie. You also didn’t want to talk about your feelings without proper preparation, but clearly, your life wasn’t a wish-granting factory. ‘I also took some shots to celebrate the New Year.’

Mark’s amused giggle was yet another unexpected slap in the face. However, you welcomed it like a caress as it encouraged you to meet his eyes. His happiness didn’t help much with your confusion, but it warmed your heart, so you let it be.

‘Cute,’ he complimented you as soon as he calmed down, his gaze shifting from your scarlet cheeks to your abandoned, wooden cutlery. You knew he wanted to encourage you to pick the chopsticks up again, but you weren’t so sure whether that would have been a good idea. You weren’t in the clear just yet.

In fact, your conversation might have been just about to get tougher if his mischievous eyes were anything to go by.

‘I’m not sure how much you remember from last night, but I understand your feelings. It’s scary for me, too,’ he said with enough nonchalance to make you wonder whether he was panicking under the collected facade. The Mark you knew would have rather let his friends bully him (affectionately) than engage in a fight. He had never been this confrontational, and you weren’t sure how you felt about this development.

Unsure whether he was finished or there was still stuff he wanted to bring up, you remained silent and mentally scolded yourself for even thinking about picking on the skin around the base of your nails.

‘I want, more than anything, to test if you’re it for me, but that’s not why I wanted to meet up with you,’ he eventually blurted out before he took a big mouthful of his noodles, probably to steal a bit more time. You waited, patiently. ‘Please don’t push me away. You don’t have to like me like that. You don’t have to agree to become my girlfriend like ever, man. But please, don’t avoid me.’

His pleading broke something in you, not because of how desperately he was talking or how he felt the need to have this request, but because this had been what you had tried to do the night before, when Yuju had pointed him out in the crowd.

He knew you. He knew your instincts were working against you two, and he was begging you to stay.

To choose him, in whichever way your heart was able to handle your relationship.

‘I’m not gonna do any of those, I promise,’ you mumbled, hoping that you could keep your promise to him, because he was being so tolerant, so patient with you, it was the least you could do.

Just like Dejun, Mark deserved so much better.

But unlike your ex-boyfriend, his presence in your life felt so effortless, so good, a part of you could almost believe that the two of you were…

You bit into your lower lip and shook your head. This wasn’t right. You shouldn’t have given him a chance because of a system that had already screwed you over. Because a sick part of your brain rationalised that the universe knew you better than you knew yourself.

‘I want to give us a try,’ you admitted slowly, choosing your words with utmost care as if one wrongly chosen synonym could have broken your friendship. Like you were still working on one of your most draining assignments for a professor that took points from you for using the same word in two consecutive sentences. ‘But I have one condition.’

Mark didn’t take his eyes off you. He wasn’t blinking, and you weren’t sure he was breathing properly, either, but his complexion looked convincing enough for you to keep going instead of stalling and checking up on him.

‘I don’t want to be your girlfriend.’ The pained look in Mark’s eyes squeezed your organs, and if you had felt a bit more poetic, you would have said, it twisted the knife in your heart, too. So you willed yourself to push through. ‘What I mean is that… I want what Dejun and Yuju have. And since we don’t know whether we are meant to be like how they already know they aren’t… I…’ you were clearly struggling at that point, but you were almost there.

You almost detangled the mess in your own head.

You almost managed to communicate your concerns.

You only needed a little bit more.

‘You want to be with me regardless?’ Mark asked, sounding hopeful and something else, too, something akin to melted butter on your toast.

You nodded, embarrassingly eager to get to the end of this topic and finally be on the same page as the boy.

‘If we don’t agree on being boyfriend-girlfriend, our tattoos won’t change. They’re not gonna spoil it,’ you argued, feeling significantly lighter after the last word fell from your lips, your smile bright and a lot wider than it had been at any moment in the past few days.

And the best part?

Mark Lee was shining like the damned Sun and all the stars in the sky upon hearing your confession. 

‘I can do that! Let’s do that! I want that, to have a chance with you, be with you. Because it does feel right. You. Us. You make me feel all gooey and boom boom inside. You make me feel like all those cringey love songs that secretly everyone likes,’ he rambled, awakening half a dozen long-dead butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

You wondered if this was how falling in love should have felt in the first place. Weren’t you only giving him a chance to see where this would lead the two of you? Were you really, truly, genuinely falling for him already?

Were you in love?

As good as you were with words in most cases, Mark’s rambling quite literally rendered you speechless. You didn’t know what more you were supposed to say without revealing your inner turmoil. After all, you had already admitted that you wanted to give it a try.

If you had been one of your characters, you would have described what you were about to do as cowardly, but at that moment it sounded rather logical (and definitely convenient) to just pick up your chopsticks and dive into your noodle soup. So that was what you did, keeping your eyes on your food while blaming your flaming cheeks on your hot lunch.

You didn’t entertain the topic more than it was strictly necessary, and you didn’t bring it up again when Mark took pity on you and decided to ask about something completely different yet maybe just as important: your plans for after your graduation ceremony next week.

Sadly, you were still struggling with finding a full-time job, but your parents were happy to have you back at home, so at least, you didn’t have to worry about housing or wasting money. You would be fed three times a day for free and have all the time in the world to find out how desperate you were to find a job in your field a.k.a. how much longer you could go without giving in and just taking the first offer that came your way.

‘I don’t want to lower my standards just yet. Maybe… after a month or two,’ you pondered aloud, then took a bigger slurp of your soup just before you asked for Mark’s opinion.

You didn’t call your lunch a date, nor did Mark ask you out on one when he suggested you watched a movie in the cinema on Saturday, but he did walk you all the way back to your door once he paid for the food and held onto your clammy hand during the second half of the elevator ride.

Hence, you assumed you were official. In your own, cautious albeit determined way.

the end.

[fics-lovebot]

fic recs masterlist

Hello!, here I´ll be constantly adding recs to each m.list so make sure to check it out often for new stuff ;) btw, eeeeverything in here I recommend with my eyes closed and would 100% re-read so,, enjoy!

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs, luv you and thank you ♡ ྀི

3rd gen

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[ohmygs-blog]

Nsfw text with jisung when other members think he's innocent but actually he knows so much more when he's with you 🤪🤪

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ

bye love this idea so much

hope u like lovely

pt 2

[jungwoosshoes]

Seven Of Spades -- Part I

Part 1 ----> Part 2 (Hearts) ---> Part 3 (Clubs) ----> Part 4 (Diamonds)

NCT x Reader Cardverse AU!

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta, Johnny Suh, Lee Jeno, Xiao Dejun, Kim Jungwoo, Park Jisung, Qian Kun, Lee Ten, and Zhong Chenle x reader ; friend! Yushi x bestie! reader

Warnings: Not many--reader is a witch and kinda poor, there's some political conflict, mentions of sick people

Note: I refuse to use Y/N, so watch me struggle to write around it! <3

Word Count: 1.6k

What is Cardverse? Great question. It's an AU I’ve seen a lot in other fandoms, but not in Ncity so I’ll give a brief description. Essentially, Cardverse is four countries, all based on one of the four suits of playing cards: Spades, Hearts, Clubs, and Diamonds. They’re all geographically close to each other, and each ruled by a king, queen, jack, and any advisors. Kings and queens don’t have to be married! Here’s some visuals to picture the kingdoms better:

Spades:

Diamonds:

Clubs:

Hearts:

Feel free to ask any questions as the series progresses!

Anyways, without further ado,

Seven Of Spades -- Chapter 1

I sat outside, listening to the water crash against the rocks just feet away from me. I could feel the ghost of sea foam dance across my face, forcing my eyes to squint and my face to feel tight. A harsh breeze pushed across the water and up towards where I stood, pulling my hair away from my face so that I could see the Sun peek through the fog better. Just as I went to turn away, I heard a familiar voice calling my name.

“Seven!” It said, “How come you’re not ready?” 

The voice belonged to Yushi, the nicest boy in all of Spades. At least in my opinion. “Ready for what?” I asked. “Surely you don’t mean the parade three hours from now.” I called back in a teasing tone. “Of course I mean the parade! What else would I be talking about? You being ready to go pick herbs like every other day? C’mon Seven! We finally get to do something fun!” “I do fun things!” I replied. “We go for rides all the time!” “Rides along the same paths we’ve been riding along since we could get on a horse. They’re hardly fun anymore.” He retorted. 

Before I had time to argue, Yushi was pulling me back into my cottage. “You have to be presentable, Seven.” He began to lecture. “There’s a chance that the king and queen will see you!” “Even if they did,” I argued, “They wouldn’t keep looking at me! They live in a palace–they won’t be at all interested with some girl from the outer rocklands.” “You never know!” Yushi fought back. “Don’t you ever just let yourself dream of it for a second? Moving away from here into the palace; being surrounded by buildings instead of trees? Being able to afford modern furniture and clothes? You could have a stable for Cassie! Not to mention some dreamy royals!” 

“Yushi!” I yelled, giggling. “Maybe you should try to catch the royals’ eyes! “Maybe I will!” He smirked. “Seriously though, we need to figure out what you’re going to wear. We should leave early too–I want to get a good spot!” 

After we went through nearly my entire wardrobe, which wasn’t very big but still painful, we agreed upon a classic dark blue dress with a long-sleeved white tunic underneath. Pretty, but still standard Spade attire. I sat, watching Yushi braid my hair for a while before speaking, barely above a whisper. “I do think about it, sometimes.” “What?” He replied, much louder than I. “Living in a castle,” I blushed, “With royals and money and stables. Every girl does.” “I bet they do.” He smiled, tying my hair with a velvety blue ribbon. “Thank you.” I looked at him gratefully. He flashed me a grin, and began to pull something out of his pocket.

 “Before I forget!” He exclaimed, “There was a letter for you from the Wang family in Clubs–they left it in my mailbox again by accident.” “That’s strange–” I began to say in return. “They do it all the time!” Said Yushi, “You should be used to it by now.” “Not that!” I retorted. “I wouldn't be surprised if they just threw it into the wind and hoped that it would reach me! I’m surprised that it’s the Wang family–I don’t think I’ve done business with them before. Yushi shrugged. “Maybe they heard about your magic from someone else?” He didn’t seem concerned. He put the letter on my dresser and once again pulled me–this time back out the door. 

He ran to his horse as I walked towards the fence to get mine. “I bet Cassie’s excited for the parade!” He called. Cassie was, in fact, a horse who hated crowds, but I decided not to harp on that. Yushi was so genuinely excited that I wanted to reciprocate his emotions. After all, this sort of thing doesn’t happen often. 

I harnessed Cassie and we began the ride into the city. After some time, we met more and more people headed to the same place. I began to wonder aloud to Yushi, “Why are the royals even doing this, anyway? I can’t imagine it’s for fun.” “I’m not sure,” He replied. “They didn’t mention a real reason in the invitation letter. Maybe it’s just because they want everyone to be reminded of how gorgeous they are.” He flipped his hair as he said it. I let out a good, hardy laugh at that, and we joked about the possible reasons for the parade for the rest of the ride.

The city was bustling with more chatter and activity than normal when we arrived. Mostly, people were using the heavier traffic as an opportunity to promote their businesses, selling fruits and steel and all kinds of things at small booths along the main road. I came here every so often in search of ingredients or even to sell my own spells and medicines, but these streets never felt like home to me. I was much more comfortable with the crashing waves and big open spaces, as much as I liked to complain about them. 

As Yushi began to search for what he deemed to be the “absolute perfect parade viewing point,” My mind wandered to the royals. Everyone said that they were powerful-looking and generally attractive, but I really had no idea how they looked. I had seen them at public appearances once or twice, but those were years ago when I was quite young. My mind started to fill in the blanks, and I decided that they weren’t as beautiful as everyone made them out to be. They were probably just normal people with enough power to make everyone think they were extraordinary. Wouldn’t that be nice.

“Here!” Yushi yelled. “It’s perfect!” He had found a place just big enough for the two of us to fit along the rails that had been placed along the parade route, and it was close to a post where we could leave the horses. “Good eye!” I yelled back. We settled along the rail, and I couldn’t help but to overhear the chatter of the girls next to us. “I hear that the king has beautiful eyes!” Said the first. “I hear that the queen has the most beautiful smile in the whole kingdom!” Said the second. A little immature, but I decided to strike up a conversation with them anyway. “Do you guys know why this whole thing is being held?” I asked. “Nobody knows for sure.” The first girl said. “But everyone thinks it has something to do with the King or Queen searching for a bride!” “So they chose to do it through a parade?” I asked. “How would you elect to view all the potential wives within your kingdom?” The second girl said back. Fair. 

After what felt like ages of leaning against the rail and glaring at Yushi for dragging me here so early. I began to hear cheers from off in the distance. “They must be close!” Yushi exclaimed. “Can you see them Seven? Can you see?” “Not any better than you can!” I replied as he began to lean precariously over the rail, presumably to get a better view. “There!” He screamed after a minute of straining all the muscles in his neck. “I can see them!” 

I had never seen such a grand sight in my life. A huge carriage led by three strong, white horses glided over the path. It was open, but very high above the ground. The royals could be seen, but only from below. The carriage was blue with silver accents which dazzled in the sparse sun, and I could just see that the people on top were dressed in the same shade. As the carriage got closer, time seemed to slow down. I began to realize how rare of an opportunity this was, and how this was probably the closest I would ever get to power–to that life that every girl dreamed about. 

The carriage drew closer, and I could soon see in detail the people aboard. At the very front was our jack–Kim Doyoung. He had a serious face with glossy black hair and skeptical dark eyes. He smiled, but only slightly. Behind him stood two of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. Granted, I probably hadn’t seen very many, but still. The King, Johnny, wore a big, heavy looking silver crown atop his pristine yet wild brown wavy hair. He wore a bigger, more gracious smile as he drew closer and waved at all of his citizens. He was dressed in a simple, elegant dark blue suit with white accents, and his eyes were, indeed, quite beautiful. However, it was the man behind him that really took my breath away. The queen’s hair was longer, just reaching the bottom of his jaw. A much more dainty crown sat atop his head, and it complimented his matching blue and white outfit well. He came closer and closer, and he began to turn his gaze towards my direction. 

The thing I remember most clearly was his smile. His gorgeous, killer smile. God, I’ve never seen anything like it. He turned to look right at me and he gave me that smile. Just as Yushi grabbed onto my arm, the queen reached out for the king's arm. He nodded at me, and my eyes grew wide. Just as I was about to turn to Yushi to try and anchor myself, the carriage sped away. They continued down their path, and Yushi’s grip on me tightened. “He looked at you!” Yushi Cried. “Queen Yuta looked at you! Seven!” “It’s this braid you did,” I smiled, out of breath. “He probably wants one just like it.” “Don’t blow this off!” He hit my shoulder. “A million girls would kill for the queen to look at them like that!” “Well,” I replied, “We should probably get out of here before one of them does.”

[cococunchy]

my soul connects to yours

pairing : stranger!haechan x gn!reader

genre (?) : red string of fate, strangers to lovers

summary : in the world you live in, seeing soulmates together are as common as riding a bike, be it platonic soulmates, or romantic. but finding your own is unfortunately not as easy. so by fate, when you pass a certain boy and realise who you were destined to be with, both of you decide to try it out

a/n : definitely very ooc for haechan but lets not talk about that and this might not be the best because the only true experience i have in writing is essays for school (💪🏻) so please bare with me

mc’s name is jisoo (can be unisex. ie, jisoo from bp and jisoo/joshua from svt) for convenience but feel free to change it!

from what i know theres no description about the characters body, but if there is please tell me 😭

word count: 952

——————————————————————————

the start of december, the most worrying yet also least worrying time of the year mainly for the reason that you’re not sure if you’re ever going to bump into your soulmate, all your friends have found theirs, so why couldn’t you? and as easy as you wish it’d be to find them, maybe following the bright red string that’s always glowing on your pinkie finger that only you can see, it hasn’t worked before and will probably never work.

you sigh, walking the streets of Seoul, Korea with heavily layered clothing for the winter season, the buildings were vibrant and beautiful yet all you felt was a gloomy grey.

it wasn’t as if you were desperate for love or a hopeless romantic, but seeing your friends so content with their soulmates has made you yearn for a love like theirs. a requited, never ending love between two chosen by the stars.

“oh! sorry, i wasn’t paying attention where i was going.” a voice piped up after crashing into you causing you both to fall back on the pavement. “i swear i’m not this clumsy usually.” he stood up, brushes himself off and offered a hand out to you, waiting to see if you’ll take it.

“it’s no problem,” you say with a small smile, a fall definitely kicked you out of your little three minute quarter-life crisis. though, you couldn’t help but notice something on his hand as you took it and pulled yourself up. a string. connecting right to your pinkie finger from his.

it seemed the man noticed too, as a sudden introduction coming from him the second you got back up on your feet. “name’s Lee Donghyuck, it’s a pleasure to meet you, my soulmate.” he playfully does a princely bow, though, you assumed it was probably just an act for peak first impressions.

“the pleasures all mine,” you bow/curtsy playfully right back after picking up your bag from the floor and brushing yourself off. “i’m Park Jisoo”

this man, Donghyuck, was his name? was complete eye candy to look at. his fluffy brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes pulled you in, maybe because he was your destined lover was why you looked at him in such a light, but never did you think someone you’d just met be so pretty to look at.

“you’re staring, soulmate, am i that handsome?” he teases, running his hand through his hair as if to try to make himself more attractive in your view, and you couldn’t deny its effect.

“not at all, soulmate, i was just zoning out” even his clothes seemed to perfectly match him. with a black shirt over his warm brown hoodie that accentuates his hair and eyes.

“i’m sure” he rolls his eyes, clearly not believing your bluff. “anyways, do you wanna go get ice cream? i’m sure you wouldn’t trust me enough to head to my place” Donghyuck said with a comforting smile, rubbing the back of his head.

you hit the jackpot.

not only was he a complete treat to look at, he was respectful too? you probably could’ve figured it out before he offered the ice cream, which always tastes better in cold whether, you figured out, but to have him acknowledge that you wouldn’t be comfortable enough to follow him to his home was really what sold you.

“yeah, let’s go”

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

by the time the two of you reached the ice cream store, it was already so close to closing you two might as well have been the last customers for the day. but the cashier showed no signs of fatigue and hurriedly went to scoop up the ice cream.

“thank you” you say to the cashier girl, and just as you were about to pay, Donghyuck holds your hand to stop you.

“i’ll pay, i was the one who offered, after all” he holds out his credit card and deets (real word; trust 💪🏻) it, paying for the ice cream. he waves goodbye to the cashier girl and leads you to a playground. usually this playground would be chalk filled with kids playing around, but in the cold winter, almost no one comes here anymore.

“you know, i never thought i’d meet my soulmate, especially a soulmate who’s a looker” he says, sitting down on a bench and looking up to the sky, seeing the starry night sky and beautiful moon. “you seem pretty nice too, though maybe i don’t know enough about you to say that yet”

you nod, sitting down next to him as you listened to what he said. “i hope i’m a nice person in other people’s eyes, but i just know you’re one.” everything he’s done so far, offering ice cream, paying for it, hell, even just knowing you wouldn’t want to go to his place, was enough to tell that he was a nice person. “i scored a home-run”

“and you’re a looker too,” you say, a small smile on your face. “pretty boy, through and through”

Donghyuck chuckles and god how you hoped you’d get to hear that sound for the rest of your life. he smiles warmly, a stark contrast to the weather you both were currently sitting in. “i like you, many people don’t compliment others so easily” he moved in a little closer, but far enough for you to not feel like he’s invading your personal space.

“this could work really well for us, right? this soulmate stuff”

“yeah, i think so”

and with that, the rest of the night was filled with talks and laughter as you got to know each other, as the stars and moon watched from above with calm smiles on their faces, knowing the fates have made another excellent pair that day.

——————————————————————————

(the amt of commas in this should be a crime)

not proofread at all so sorry if it’s bad or i messed up with pronouns (pls tell me if i did 🙏)

have a good day guys!

[nominzn]

destino jaemin

não há nada tão misterioso, místico e maravilhoso quanto o tempo. este tem suas artimanhas, suas invenções e conexões inexplicáveis que levaram você até jaemin.

notas! esse pedido foi feito pela minha bebê, @jaemingold. é inspirado em duas músicas: monalisa, do djavan e invisible string, da taylor swift. se você curte ler com música, recomendo essa (especialmente no momento "o dia"). é uma bobeirinha bem fofa, espero que gostem.

jaemin x leitora soulmate!au; akai-ito (cor diferente no fio); 3.3k !não foi revisado!

Dois anos antes

Numa das mesas vazias da sorveteria perto do parque também vazio está a menina cuja qual se prepara para o último ano de escola. 

O recesso de inverno é sua parte favorita do ano, a paz que a paisagem alva enfeitada de pequenas luzes douradas ou coloridas exala lhe é muito cara. Este é o período no qual escolhe recintos aleatórios para passear, sempre acompanhada de si mesma e um livro na bolsa. 

Decide-se a cada dia por lugares onde é costume ir no verão, assim, acaba sendo a única freguesa muitas vezes. A melhor parte, caso lhe perguntem. Por isso, a sorveteria Frigidarium te atraiu. Ao entrar no ambiente aquecido e ver apenas os funcionários, suspirou de alívio. Bingo.

— Boa tarde, senhorita. Obrigado por nos escolher, fique à vontade para escolher uma mesa. Irei até você. — o homem atrás do balcão cumprimenta com educação, mas parece nervoso e atrapalhado.

Um aceno de cabeça e um obrigada sussurrado foi o suficiente. Após achar conforto em um dos cantos, retomou a leitura que tinha iniciado no metrô. 

— Você é uma das minhas, sorvete é até no frio. Quais sabores vamos querer hoje? — ele já está com a caneta a postos.

— Eu amo sorvete! — sorri como uma criança feliz. — Pistache, chocolate belga e baunilha, por favor.

— Que combinação, hein? — o senhor ri com vontade, mas logo interrompe o riso com um estalo nos lábios. — O menino que me ajuda está super atrasado hoje, mil perdões pela bagunça.

Não tinha reparado, porém não era tanta assim. A agitação do homem vem de dentro, observa. 

As horas passam como as horas num dia de inverno deveriam passar, lentas o suficiente para render bem o dia. Terminou bem uns três capítulos e mais quatro sabores de sorvete antes de decidir que era hora de partir, teria uma jornada muito mais gélida de volta deixasse o Sol se pôr.

Preocupado, o homem aperta o casaco grosso contra o corpo enquanto percorre a área com os olhos pela enésima vez à procura de Jaemin. O moleque nunca se atrasa assim! Pelo contrário, é pontual, responsável, simpático. O que será que aconteceu?

Para o alívio do coração frágil do mais velho, uma figura apressada aproxima-se ao longe. É, finalmente, Jaemin, depois de ter ficado preso limpando a escola às ordens da professora mais malvada que já existiu na face da Terra. 

Ao passo que Na alcança a esquina, você deixa a sorveteria e despede-se, agradecendo a atenção do atendente caridoso. Assim que vira de costas para caminhar, o menino chega na frente do senhor, repousando as mãos nos próprios joelhos e revela a respiração ofegante pela corrida extensa. 

— Perdão, senhor. — Jaemin pede entre os suspiros. Retoma a postura ereta, as mãos apertam os ossos do quadril. — Tenho um motivo, juro.

— Ah, garoto! Não me assusta mais assim. 

Um ano antes

Jaemin nunca imaginou que seria a pessoa a sair de casa para estudar em outra cidade, parecia um sonho distante. Na verdade, não tinha passado por sua cabeça viver longe da família, não seria capaz. Cuidar de sua mãe e seus dois irmãos mais novos tinha tanto gosto de felicidade que não pensava em abrir mão disso, até que recebeu a carta de admissão de uma faculdade que nunca tinha aplicado. 

Obviamente foi uma tentação. Aquilo perturbou tanto a cabeça do jovem que o fazia acordar todas madrugadas para encarar cada palavra digitada naquele simples convite. As letras pareciam brilhar algumas vezes, um tom dourado que ele sempre justificava como imaginação fértil. 

Decidiu ir após um dia longo no trabalho, não poderia estacionar a vida por ali. Decisão tomada, as dores de cabeça e letras douradas sumiram, mas a sensação de estar sendo puxado para o que parecia certo crescia ao passo que o dia da viagem chegava. 

Primeira vez que viajou de avião sozinho, primeira vez pegando um táxi sozinho, primeira vez carregando todas as suas coisas em malas que lhe foram doadas, primeira vez que teria uma oportunidade de conhecer a si próprio, pensar apenas em si. 

O motorista do táxi sentiu compaixão pelo jovem menino e o ajudou a carregar todas as malas, o carro ficou lotado. Jaemin sentou-se no banco da frente para facilitar o transporte, e ainda assim, o espaço em seu colo estava sendo aproveitado também. 

— Você é tão jovem, parece minha enteada… minha filha. — diz o motorista, tentando oferecer uma conversa amigável ao garoto visivelmente assustado. — Veio para a faculdade? 

Jaemin suspira e solta um risinho para ser educado, o medo mal permite que ele interaja. 

— Sim, sim. Vim estudar música, senhor. Composição, na verdade.

O senhor exclama em animação, como se a maior coincidência tivesse acabado de ser revelada.

— Minha filhota também! Em qual faculdade? 

— Instituto SAE, senhor.

— Ah… — declara um pouco decepcionado. — Ela vai estudar na Academia JAM. 

— Meu amigo Renjun também! Talvez um dia a gente se conheça… 

— Espero que sim, rapaz. Ela seria uma boa amiga pra você, sabe? Nós nos mudamos recentemente para não deixá-la sozinha aqui, e agora estou trabalhando mais enquanto não encontro outra coisa melhor. Ela não queria, disse que não queria mais dar trabalho, mas a gente insistiu. Menina de ouro. 

Um breve silêncio paira no ar, Jaemin não sabe o que responder, só consegue pensar que sua vida está começando agora. Ele precisa ser responsável pelas próprias decisões daqui para frente, tudo depende dele somente. Não é como se sua família o tivesse abandonado, pelo contrário, dão todo apoio do mundo aos seus sonhos. Porém a distância… 

— Por falar nela… — o motorista interrompe os pensamentos do garoto e aperta o dispositivo à sua frente para atender a ligação. Por causa do bluetooth, Jaemin também faz parte da conversa. — Oi, filha! Tô com um passageiro, seja rápida. 

— Oi, papai. 

No exato instante que sua voz preenche o carro, a tontura e preocupação do mais novo cessam, sente uma calmaria acalentar o peito. Em volta de seus olhos há certa cintilância, o que ele pensa ser vertigem. 

— Cheguei no dormitório agora pouco, minha colega de quarto foi super simpática. Uma veterana de piano, fiquei tão feliz. 

O brilho aumenta conforme sua fala se estende. Jaemin pensa estar passando mal, procura alguma razão em volta de si que explique o as partículas douradas flutuando sobre sua visão. Sem justificativa, a confusão contorce suas expressões ao perceber que, ao fim da ligação, também se vão as poeiras brilhosas. Estranho. 

Vez ou outra esse pó mágico, como Jaemin apelidou quando criança, se apresentava em situações aleatórias. Na infância tudo é mágico, porém à medida que amadurecia, ficava mais difícil acreditar — e entender — do que aquilo se tratava. Quanto mais raras tornavam-se as aparições, menos pensava nisso. E assim pretende continuar. 

5 meses antes 

Se pudesse voltar no tempo, diria a si própria para não confiar no cara mais desejado do campus. Óbvio que todo esse papinho de estar apaixonado era mentira, de escrever músicas de amor (foram todas recicladas, por sinal), de prometer ser sempre seu… Tudo. Mentira. Como caiu na lábia dele? 

Sabe bem. Era só Doyoung pegar o violão que tudo parecia certo, sua tática de sedução infalível. O que ele falasse ao tocar qualquer acorde, olhando nos seus olhos, viraria voto secreto. 

Bem, os olhos outrora hipnotizados por toda beleza do homem, hoje se abriram. Numa das festas de um famoso quem popular do campus, pegou seu situação fiel no meio de uma pegação bem intensa com outras duas calouras. 

Não permitiu que ele chegasse até você, foi rápida ao se esconder entre as pessoas. Doyoung também não insistiu muito, não valia a pena. 

Mesmo com vontade de chorar, engole as lágrimas junto com uma mistura poderosa num canto qualquer. Pouco distante dali, na sala, estão Renjun e Jaemin, haviam chegado há pouco, quando o primeiro decide procurar pelo banheiro. 

— Eu já volto, não sai daqui. 

Jaemin revira os olhos. Até parece que encararia essa avalanche de gente sozinho, obviamente esperaria o amigo no mesmo lugar. 

Renjun se espreme entre os espacinhos que sobram para a passagem, bufando ao levar esbarrões que o atrapalham de tomar a direção que procura. Na verdade, já não reconhece mais em que parte da casa está. Fica na ponta dos pés para se localizar, batendo os olhos diretamente em você. O sorriso que estica os lábios se desfaz ao notar o olhar perdido, a expressão decepcionada e copos vazios por perto, além do meio cheio que está em uma das mãos. Boa coisa não pode ser. 

— Junnie! Oi! — a voz esganiçada denuncia o estado no qual o álcool te deixou, nunca o cumprimenta assim sóbria. — O que você tá fazendo aqui? 

— Que bom te ver também, coisinha. — implica, refrescando o paladar com o seu drink. — Qual foi dessa cara de bunda, hein? 

Inúmeras possibilidades de resposta passaram pela cabeça de Renjun, menos a sua reação de fato. Parece que a pergunta era a gota que faltava para que você quebrasse, não é capaz de conter as lágrimas. Vergonha, decepção, humilhação, todos os motivos se combinaram. Cobrindo a face com as mãos, se permite botar para fora por uns minutos. 

— Vou pra casa, Jun. Desculpa tomar seu tempo assim. 

Por mais dramática que a bebida te fizesse, desta vez realmente se sente culpada de ter dado um banho de água fria na diversão do amigo. 

— Eu levo você. 

— Não! 

Ele leva um susto com a sua rispidez, até afasta o braço que estava prestes a entrelaçar-se ao seu. 

— Não precisa, Jun. Aproveita a festa, é sério. 

— Para com isso. Te levo e volto, o máximo que vai acontecer é eu nunca mais ver esse dinheiro do uber, e… — você o belisca para retrucar a brincadeira, ele ri. — talvez o Jaemin fique meio puto. 

— Jaemin? Quer ir procurá-lo? 

— Deixa ele aí rapidinho, a gente não vai demorar. O seu dormitório não fica tão longe. — finalmente engata os braços, já direcionando os dois para fora do caos. 

— Renjun, eu posso ir a pé. Dez minutinhos não é muita coisa. 

— Exatamente, por isso mesmo, não é nada, eu já vou voltar. Fora que ir a pé agora é sinistrinho, não posso deixar.

Os dois se dirigem para fora sem que Jaemin veja, apesar de Renjun tê-lo procurado pro alto. Realmente não sente tanta falta do amigo assim, acaba encontrando dois colegas de sala por coincidência e não demorou muito para que ele retornasse. 

Esta foi a última vez que um quase separou você de Jaemin. 

Um dia antes 

Renjun espera Jaemin chegar em casa pulando um pouco de frio pela brisa surpreendentemente gélida esta noite. A jaqueta e a calça jeans não estão dando conta do frio, e o garoto reza para que o amigo chegue logo. Suas preces foram atendidas rapidamente, pois a figura forte do garoto se aproxima da porta de casa com um olhar curioso e um sorriso no rosto. 

— Tá com saudade de mim, Junjun? — ele provoca, causando um revirar de olhos no outro. 

— Abre logo essa porta, tá frio pra caralho. 

Entrando no apartamento quentinho, Renjun suspira de alívio e se joga no sofá na primeira oportunidade que tem enquanto Jaemin larga as sacolas de mercado na mesa da cozinha. 

— Ao que devo a visita? — Jaemin indaga ao retornar para a sala e fazer companhia ao amigo. 

— Amanhã você tem compromisso? 

Na parece pensar, e logo sacode a cabeça negativamente. 

— Ótimo. Minha amiga vai se apresentar e você vai no recital comigo. Não reclama, eu já comprei seu ingresso. 

— Eu nem disse nada. — ele lança uma das almofadas bem no abdômen do amigo. — Tá bom, ué. Se é pra ir, eu vou. Ela toca o quê? 

— Piano. 

— Ihhh, qual foi esse sorrisinho? Você gosta dela? 

O silêncio sepulcral segue a cara de horror de Renjun.

— Não?! 

— Sei… — faz uma expressão desconfiada só de sacanagem. 

— Definitivamente não, para de graça. — ele suspira, não querendo dá-lo o gostinho de cair em suas provocações. — Enfim. Amanhã às sete da noite, a gente se encontra no Centro e pede um uber, pode ser? 

Jaemin concorda, e eles seguem conversando sobre qualquer coisa. Ele concorda sem saber que absolutamente tudo faria sentido a partir daquele encontro. 

O dia

Apesar do trânsito caótico da cidade, chegaram com antecedência ao evento e, uau, está lotado. O burburinho toma conta do teatro enquanto os dois procuram o lugar privilegiado que Renjun havia conseguido, onde a acústica favorece e a visão não deixa a desejar.

De repente, após já sentados, o silêncio é pedido e atendido imediatamente. O primeiro solista entra sob aplausos contidos e inicia sua apresentação belíssima, Jaemin parece vidrado. Vez ou outra sentia choques de realidade do porque amar tanto música, e este momento se classifica assim. O violoncelo é um de seus instrumentos favoritos, por isso se deixa tocar pelas notas tão únicas e refinadas, quase não percebe quando termina o número. 

— Ela já é a segunda. — Renjun sussurra com discrição, acordando o amigo de seu transe. 

Os holds já haviam trazido o instrumento pesado até o palco quando Jaemin abre os olhos novamente. Na coxia, você respira fundo algumas vezes e dá os primeiros passos em direção ao banco com graciosidade, os aplausos estão abafados aos seus ouvidos. 

A quietude preenche o recinto outra vez ao passo que um zumbido perturba seus pensamentos, mas logo se vai ao pressionar as primeiras teclas com os dedos trêmulos. Renjun sorri em apreciação, orgulhoso da sua primeira composição sendo mostrada ao mundo. No entanto, Jaemin não sorri. 

Tudo que consegue ver é você, rodeada daquela mesma poeira dourada que ele conhece. Só que agora, há uma quantidade extravagante dela. Ele tampa a boca em formato de O, mas sua mão também está brilhando. Será que todos podem ver? 

Ele procura algum sinal em volta e não encontra nada. Fitando os próprios dedos, ele vê que há um fio reluzente amarrado no mindinho, que se estende de cadeira em cadeira, sobe ao palco e… Ele só pode estar ficando maluco. 

O outro lado do fio está atrelado ao seu mindinho. 

A sua mente gira. O que é toda essa luz? Mal consegue enxergar as teclas de tanto dourado, suas digitais também parecem estar sendo puxadas para fora do palco, especialmente onde está o nó brilhante. A ansiedade de errar na frente de tantas pessoas desregula a sua respiração por uns segundos, até que você fecha os olhos e confia na própria memória. Por trás das pálpebras vê um sorriso desconhecido que acalenta o desespero, e sem perceber, imita o gesto. Assim, nem parece mais você a tocar o piano. A melodia sai tão naturalmente e leve que nem sente esforço nenhum sendo feito. 

A melodia cessa, e as luzes se vão também, os aplausos e as exclamações de “bravo!” assustam você e Jaemin, os trazendo de volta para a realidade. Para ele, tinha acabado ali, só conseguia pensar em você nas outras três apresentações. Ao final, Renjun tira da mochila um pequeno arranjo de flores que havia guardado com cuidado e convida Jaemin para seguí-lo até o corredor, onde você estaria. 

Ao ver Renjun, seu sorriso nervoso se torna um sincero, e vocês se abraçam em celebração. Ele te entrega o singelo mimo com alegria, rasgando elogios sem fim. 

— No meio da música, parecia que você tinha se desligado completamente e só existia o piano. Foi lindo, lindo, lindo. 

— Obrigada, Jun. Eu realmente me desconectei, não sei… foi estranho, mas tão bom. — você confessa animada, notando uma segunda presença por perto. 

Hipnotizado é pouco. Jaemin está encantando, vidrado, nervoso, completamente focado no seu rosto, nos seus trejeitos. Chega a ser esquisita a forma que ele está se comportando. 

— Ah! Esse é o famoso Jaemin. Jaemin essa é a… irmão, acorda! 

Jaemin chacoalha a cabeça, completamente desconcertado. 

— Eu tava, hm, é… distraído. — limpa a garganta e estende a mão para você. — Prazer, viu? 

No aperto de mãos, você nota certa dormência em volta do dedo mindinho e, obviamente, ele também. Não só isso, ao reparar mais detalhes do rosto do menino, você confirma que o sorriso que vira durante a apresentação pertencia a ele. 

Isso só pode ser loucura, não é? 

Parecia cada vez mais real. 

Mesmo tendo decidido seguir suas vidas, a curiosidade não findava. Especialmente depois de uma série de encontros aleatórios, quase diários. 

Uma vez na esquina do trabalho, trombou com Jaemin, e a dormência nos dedos apareceu de novo. 

Depois no metrô, entraram ao mesmo tempo, um de cada lado, e quase caíram um em cima do outro. 

Outra vez foi em um domingo ensolarado, se encontraram no mercado comprando exatamente os mesmos sabores de sorvete, pistache, chocolate belga e baunilha. 

Era sempre meio estranho, risinhos simpáticos para disfarçar aquela vontade absurda de perguntar se o outro tinha sentido e visto as mesmas coisas. Aquela saudade inexplicável na hora de se despedir, quando algo dentro de si pedia aos berros para que ficassem. 

As coincidências ficaram insuportáveis, e Jaemin decidiu tomar uma atitude e testar sua teoria. Ele calmamente passeia pelo parque mais vazio e distante do Centro da cidade, escolhendo um dos bancos de madeira pintados de verde para sentar-se. Se você aparecesse ali, realmente seria um sinal, e não poderiam mais ficar quietos sobre o que vinha acontecendo. 

Impressionado, aliviado, mas pouco surpreso, o garoto sorri ao te reconhecer de longe. Você está ouvindo música, dançando pelo caminho e se aproximando devagar. É costume seu vir ao parque quando precisa espairecer sem ser incomodada. 

Jaemin se levanta e te espera chegar, ainda não tinha sido visto. As mãos enterradas no bolso da calça entregam o nervosismo, o estômago está revirado de borboletas.

Ao avistá-lo ali, seus pés travam, porém não consegue esconder o sorriso. Era o sinal que havia pedido ontem à noite, antes de dormir. Você se aproxima cheia da coragem que havia se permitido sentir e o abraça forte, tão forte que ele se perde por alguns momentos. Os braços fortes, no entanto, envolvem sua cintura com uma intimidade familiar, apesar de ser a primeira vez que se tocam assim. 

Jaemin é o primeiro a se afastar, bem pouco, deixando que os rostos se admirem bem de perto. Ele ajeita seus cabelos e você acaricia as bochechas macias dele com certa devoção. 

— Eu preciso fazer uma coisa. — sussurra como um pedido, encarando seus lábios e depois seus olhos. 

Você assente, novamente tímida, mas se entrega, cerra as pálpebras e espera a próxima ação do garoto. Com delicadeza, ele repousa os lábios sobre os seus e inicia um beijo doce, lento, repleto de carinho. 

Ao mesmo tempo, como uma miragem, vocês se veem crianças, correndo numa pracinha da cidade natal. Na sua cintura e na dele, o fio dourado se estica e se contrai conforme os movimentos da corrida entre os vários brinquedos. 

A cena não se demora, avançando no tempo. No mesmo ponto de ônibus para ir à escola, você e Jaemin quase se cruzavam todos os dias. Um subia no transporte, o outro chegava. E, mais outra vez, o fio os atrelava, como uma promessa. 

Depois, as cenas ficaram mais recentes. Jaemin era o menino atrasado na sorveteria e também o qual seu padrasto não parava de tagarelar sobre, você descobre. No dia da festa na qual descobriu a traição de Doyoung, no meio de toda aquela gente, o fio reluzente continuava a conectar vocês dois até que, finalmente, se viram pela primeira vez e chegaram até aqui. 

— Você também viu? — você pergunta baixinho, separando o beijo com alguns selinhos. 

— Vi. Demorei a vida toda pra te ter. — ele ri, sem acreditar que esse tipo de coisa é real. Depois de tanto tempo achando que tinha tomado decisões erradas, ele percebe que tudo colaborou para que vocês dois se encontrassem. 

— Eu nunca mais vou te deixar. — sua promessa remenda todas as mágoas e dúvidas no coração de Jaemin, que te toma nos braços de novo. 

Desde sempre, e para sempre, conectados para que se achassem, se cuidassem e amassem. Muitas vezes os dois se questionaram sobre o amor, sobre as circunstâncias de tantas mudanças, porém tudo passou a fazer sentido por causa do outro, e nunca permitiriam que isso escapasse.

[k-femdove]

First Love: Prologue || H.RJ

pairing :: sub!renjun x afab!reader (+ a hint of chenle x reader but not really)

warnings :: first love au, sexual banter (it’s just chenle moaning as a joke), light profanity

word count :: 1k | not beta read

sypnosis :: In a world where your family can see who their first love is going to be, you are unable to love anyone until you end up with that person. Not a big deal, right? The only problem is that your first love is moving and you only have a week to make him fall in love. 

or; my take on the soulmate au

playlist link here! or listen to ‘fall for you’ by sarah kang

prologue

First loves have always been essential to romantic classics. Some weren’t concerned- marrying your first love was rare. To others, there was nothing more special.

Not to sound corny, but you were different. With romance, you stand out from the crowd. It was something straight out of fanfiction.

You could tell when you met your first love. It was an indescribable feeling. A small heart would appear on your wrist and theirs, which they rarely noticed.

The ability came with a couple of drawbacks. There was no avoiding the relationship. Fate would bring the two of you together.

However, this never guaranteed a good relationship. If you were being honest, the so-called talent wasn’t very beneficial. In reality, not one person in your family stayed with their first love. That was another downfall to the ability; you weren’t supposed to stay together, which was different from having a soulmate. The moment fate changed, their heart would turn into a mole.

Most of your family had their experience when in their teens, the perfect age of experimentation. Then there’s you come in.

Here you were, 22 and loveless, but you didn’t worry about it. You lived an ordinary life.

After years without a lover, you began to believe that this whole “first love” thing wasn’t true. Besides, it’s not like your life was a cheesy romance drama. A gift like that seemed nothing short of preposterous.

Startled by a sudden loud noise, your thoughts had been disturbed. You turned and saw your friend, frozen in shock, standing above a pile of shattered glass.

“Jesus christ, Chenle.” You breathed out, looking around the cafe. “You’re lucky that there’s no one in here right now. I’m surprised that you’re not fired yet.”

Chenle rolled his eyes and went to grab a broom. “Whatever, y/n. You know you love me.” He said with a smirk.

You laughed at his antics. What he said was true. No matter how stupid Chenle acted, he was still your best friend.

After Chenle nearly slipped on the glass, he shot you a dirty look.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna help?” He asked, beckoning you over.

While the two of you cleaned, it was only natural for a conversation to start up. It started slowly at first, but eventually, your family came up.

“Say, y/n, have you fallen in love yet?” He questioned teasingly. You narrowed your eyes, ready to respond, but he cut you off. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll know when you see them.”

You pushed him playfully, resulting in an exaggerated whine.

“What about you, lover boy?” You inquired with a sly smile. “What about your roommate? The one that’s moving out next week?”

“Oh, Renjun?” He responded, scrunching his nose.

“That’s the one. When do I get to meet him?”

Chenle was about to deny your requests, but paused in reconsideration.

“Actually,” he started, “He’s stopping by soon.”

Surprised, you looked at Chenle. “Oh, for real? Have fun with that.”

Annoyed, he sighed. “You can have him. He’s cute and all, but so not my type.”

“And what makes you think he’s mine?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and taking a seat.

“Dude, I dunno-“

The bell rang as the cafe door opened, and a cold gust of wind blew into the cafe.

That’s when he walked in. The prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. It wasn’t love at first sight, but something close to that. The boy had soft brown hair and dark eyes that sparkled in the light. His bangs lay lightly against his forehead and down to his eyes. He wore a little fur hat and a small smile that pulled you in. His cheeks were pink from the cold weather.

The rest of the interaction went by quickly. You watched as the boy hugged Chenle before making his way over to you. As soon as you locked eyes with him, you felt a strange wave of warmth wash over you. Your fingers grew numb and your wrist began to burn.

“So you’re y/n? I’m Renjun, Chenle’s roommate.”

The rest of the meeting went by quickly. You exchanged a couple of words, and then he was gone. As soon as the door closed, you turned to Chenle, your eyes wide.

“That’s him.” You gasped.

“What?” Chenle asked, confused.

“He’s the one.” You said.

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” Chenle began, but then looked into your eyes and down at your wrist. “No fucking way.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight. There’s a heart permanently tattooed on your wrist because you saw some dude that just so happens to be my roommate that’s literally about to move away. Now you have to date him before he’s gone or else nothing in your love life will work out until years later when you run into him, but you’ll never actually end up with him so your heart is broken either way? And it’s gonna crush you so your love life will suck anyways because fate will make you fall in love with him even though you aren’t in love with him now? And it’s not supposed to be a big deal?”

You thought about it before saying, “well when you say it like that… I don't really know what to do.”

“Why don’t you just seduce him or something?” Chenle suggested, walking over to you. “Try pinning him against the couch.”

“That’s cheesy as hell.” You said, crossing your arms.

“So? Renjun’s never dated someone before. He probably loves that kind of shit.’’

You rolled your eyes and pinned Chenle down, his head hitting the cushion.

“Have you fallen for me yet?” You asked jokingly.

He laughed before putting on his best Renjun impression.

“Oh god y/n,” he moaned as you snickered, “you’re soooooo hot.”

You heard someone walk into the living room, and you and Chenle jerked your heads towards the intruder.

Renjun’s eyes widened, and already red ears grew even redder. He was already concerned when he heard the moan, and now his fears had been confirmed.

“I- uh- you guys can continue what you were doing.” Renjun stuttered before running back to wherever he came from. You head the front door slam shut. 

You looked down at Chenle's just as shocked face before slowly getting off of him. He got up and the two of you sat in silence before Chenle finally broke the ice. 

"...I don't think it worked."

a/n: hey! i’m back ig. I had this weird idea and i just had to write it. I may complete this series before my other ones, but im not abandoning the other works! my taglist for this fic is open so don’t be afraid to ask :). 

[ohhmydyosfics]

(Nomin) lean on me (leave your mark behind)

Jaemin can confidently say that he peaked at age five.

"I can barely choose what I want to eat for breakfast, and now you tell me that I have to choose my own soulmate? That's crazy. That's too much responsibility for me."

[wzrzrr]

I CAN'T FIND THE FUCKING SOULMATE FIC I'VE READ AND THEN LOST IT AND I'M LOSING IT... Please guys it was a kpop soulmate au and all I can remember is that he rejects her in front of his friends bc she comes up to him saying "you're my soulmate!", then she walks home in the rain and he picks her up and takes her to a restaurant and they both order the same thing and she forgives him bc he apologizes PLEASE GUYS 😞😩 IDK IF IT WAS NCT OR SEVENTEEN BUT IK IT WASN'T A BTS ONE OR TXT PLS

[yutafrita]

Me!!! Request enquiry: fic title 'Senseless'. Member Sungchan or shotaro. Lol im requesting by title.

Thank you for the request!! I'm gonna play with the literal word in the title so I hope ya like it <3

Word Count: <800 Genre: Soulmate AU

Senseless

You were in your late twenties, and you had to sit with a fake smile on your face as your younger sister gushed over finding her soulmate. In between gushing over them, she kept talking about how great the food smelled, how crazy it was to feel the wind blow through her hair, and how good potato chips tasted.

“I had no idea smell and taste were this amazing,” Karina whined as she quickly devoured her sandwich from the cafe. She was a sophomore in college and you worked down the street. When she called crying an hour ago you immediately called out from your job to meet her at the local cafe only to then learn that was crying was tears of joy.

“I’m so happy for you,” you smiled, hoping it didn’t sound forced.

Karina placed her hand over yours on the table, and her eyes bugged out, “sis, you need to wear moisturizer!”

You had tried all of the dating apps in an attempt to locate your soulmate. While casual dating was a thing, most people didn’t get married to someone who was not their soulmate unless they felt either really desperate or just did not care. You were starting to feel the former.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You sighed, leaning back in your office chair and stretching your back. Shotaro raised his eyebrows in a do you want my help or not way.

“There’s more to life than just having a soulmate!” you countered.

“You’re right, buuut maybe just having a friend around our age who hasn’t found theirs might be…. Nice? Plus my partner and I could really have another person join our dungeons and dragons games,” Shotaro lowered his voice on the last part, and you playfully shoved his shoulder.

Shotaro decided to act as the intermediary between the two of you. It's extremely rare for a soulmates senses to come alive via just texting, but a few cases have come about. Shotaro had instructed you to wear a red top to the coffee house, and he said his friend will also be wearing one.

You were perched in the coffee house, your unflavored coffee set in front of you (why pay for sweetness when you can't even taste it?), your fuzzy red long sleeve sitting on your figure awkwardly. Your sister and her girlfriend had only been together for barely a month now, but they could not stop obsessively posting each other for everyone to see. You must admit- they were cute together.

You put your phone down, sighing as you lifted your coffee cup to your lips. You looked towards the door, watching as a tall man entered, a red shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders (It was obvious that, like you, he didn't have a lot of shirt options- thanks Shotaro). Gosh, this coffee tastes terrible- wait. You jumped in your seat, covering your pants in hot coffee.

Tastes. Heat.

The coffeehouse smell permeated your senses- the coffee beans, the cologne of the other patrons all assaulted your nostrils. You were overwhelmed, slapping stacks of napkins onto your thighs in an attempt to take off the liquid and not embarrass yourself any further.

"Holy shit," was Sungchan's first words to you as he quickly ran to your side and helped dab the coffee off. "Wow it's... hot."

Your eyes met at the realization. You lifted a free hand, meeting his gaze to squeeze his cheek, feeling his skin against yours and wow it just felt right even if it was just a squeeze. He smiled, his hand moving to meet yours on his own cheek.

"Huh, that feels pretty nice," he admitted before pausing, "wait, you're Shotaro's co-worker, right?"

"Yep, and apparently your soulmate."

He furrowed his eyebrows, a sly smile on his face. “I can’t believe Shotaro got us together by accident.”

“Let’s torture him by not telling him anything. While I’m in the office I’ll mention how good coffee tastes and offer him no explanation.”

“You really are my soulmate.”

[chvrrycola]

greek mythology! au x na jaemin

son of aphrodite! jaemin who just cannot stop flirting. kissing everyone’s cheeks to greet them, and to say goodbye, and to express any kind of affection whatsoever.

saying he’ll wingman for you when you go out even though it just means that anyone you approach will be making heart eyes at him for the rest of the night. 

not having the best concept of personal space but always doing everything he can to make sure other people feel comfortable around him cos he’s such a people person.

[pickles-masterlist]

Listen I know it’s been YEARS, my AU’s live rent free in my head and I would love to make them. Unfortunately, the app I used got disconnected AND making the texts and everything takes FOREVER. If I could hire someone to make what I write that would be great, but idk if either of my stores would work as written ones. However, I’ve got a few random one shots that I’ve written that I’m working up the courage to post, so expect those eventually?????

[haec-an]

written in the stars

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47665627

“Shh.” The siren pulled Mark towards him, breathing onto his skin, almost embracing him in a hug. “I can feel you thinking. Don’t stress, I can point you in the right direction back, don't worry.” The boy let his lips brush against Mark’s neck, almost teasing him with his touch. “That is of course unless you’d rather stay with me.” He giggled again, the sound swinging in the air like a melody.

Mark’s thoughts came to an abrupt stop when he heard the siren’s voice so close, he sounded like he needed to be devoured and his presence consumed him. Like the sun when it’s high in the sky, warmth touching wherever it can reach. “You’re so beautiful, you’re like…radiating.”

-

in which mark hears a beautiful siren song for the first time and finds out he can be so much more than just a boy working for a rich town household.

-----

so i wrote something and would love to share it with you all?!

it’s a fic about haechan as a siren and mark as a human :]

[jungwoosshoes]

Seven Of Spades -- Part II - Hearts

Part 1 ----> Part 2 (Hearts) ----> Part 3 (Clubs) ----> Part 4 (Diamonds)

NCT x Reader Cardverse AU!

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta, Johnny Suh, Lee Jeno, Xiao Dejun, Kim Jungwoo, Park Jisung, Qian Kun, Lee Ten, and Zhong Chenle x reader ; friend! Yushi x bestie! reader, Sakuya's here as a fairy Godfather too!

Warnings: Not many--reader is a witch and kinda poor, there's some political conflict, mentions of sick people

Note: I refuse to use Y/N, so watch me struggle to write around it! <3

Word Count: 5.3k

The Escape:

“He really looked at you Seven! I can’t believe it! You!” 

“Jesus Yusi.” 

“What?” He asked. I rolled my eyes, “I mean, if he were to look at anyone, it’s not like I’m that hideous.” “Oh!” His eyes went wide. “That’s not what I meant! You know that’s not what I meant Seven. It’s just,,you know. We’re from the Rocklands. The outer ones at that. I didn’t think Kings or Queens or even Jacks looked at people from here.” “I know what you meant, Yushi.” I smiled. Faintly, but he’s known me long enough to pick up on it. We were nearing our neighborhood now, and I was relieved to be far from the crowds again. Sure, a little excitement is healthy, but when all one knows is near solitude, it can be quite overwhelming. “That might be the most noteworthy thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” I lamented. “And it only lasted a second. “Seven!” Yushi yelled. “Don’t talk like that. You’ll get married, have children, and you heal people all the time with your potions and such. In my opinion, that’s way more exciting than making eye contact with some queen.”

“You’re right.” I replied. “I’m always right.” He retorted. I let out a chuckle at that–mostly because that couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

We arrived at the fork between our two cottages, and Yushi insisted he follow me home so he could see what Mr. Wang had written to me about. “Probably raving about how you healed him again!” Yushi said. “Or sending you more money! You could use that to buy a new dress! Or fix your ceiling!” He suggested. “Priorities, Yushi.” I chided. “Obviously a dress would be far more useful!” He let out a good, hardy laugh at that as he dismounted his horse, and put him away in the stable with my Cassie. “Are you thirsty?” I asked. “I’m more curious to see what this letter says.” He rushed into my room, where I had left it. He thrusted it toward me, and I rolled my eyes. I opened it, and to both of our dismay, no money was enclosed. It was, however, full of desperately written words. 

“Dear Miss Seven of Spades,” It read. “Your reduced pine-dandelion elixir was nothing short of a miracle sent from God to heal me during a desperate time, and for your services I am forever grateful. Though I remain in good health, I regret to inform you that my young son has fallen very ill. He has grown scarily pale, and hasn’t the energy that a young boy should have. My wife and I are worried sick, and none of the remedies tried by us or our family doctor have worked. Please, if you would be so kind, I’d like to request your services again, this time for the benefit of my boy. Of course, you shall be handsomely rewarded. Our address is the same–good luck on your journey. Many thanks, Wang Yŭxuān.”

“Oh no.” I whispered as I set the letter down. “What?” Yushi questioned. “He hasn’t died, has he? Oh Seven, tell me he hasn’t died!” “No.” I turned to look at him, “But his son has grown very sick. I can hardly believe it–he was such a healthy baby when I last saw him. “You’ll help him, right?” Asked Yushi. “Of course I will!” I exclaimed. “I’m going to start getting everything together now–the ride to Clubs takes forever–it takes hours just to get to Hearts! I have to leave right away!” 

I began rushing around my cottage, gathering everything I thought I might need into a large bag. I had an idea of what I could make, but would refine the details along the way. “I’ll look after everything while you’re gone.” Yushi offered. “Thanks Yushi. You really are the best.” I said honestly. “I know!” He quickly replied, coaxing a snort out of me. Even if I was stressed, he always knew exactly what to say. 

“Be safe!” Yushi called as I rode down the main road. “I won’t!” I yelled back, smiling wide. As I grew farther from the Rocklands, I expected to see more people, but didn’t. “Just you and me for now, Cassie.” I said to my horse, who doesn’t speak human, but I felt could understand me for some reason. The ride to Clubs should take two days, or at least that’s how long it took me in the past. Getting to the border of spades wouldn’t take long, it was passing through Hearts which would cause the real issue. I elected to cross that bridge when I got to it, and began to look through my bag for my citizen’s card in the meantime. Nobody could travel without one, so I figured it would be pretty important. “Got it!” I said to nobody in particular upon finding my card. In good time, too, because I was swiftly approaching the border. 

“Now where exactly are you going, miss?” Asked the officer once I got closer. “Hearts sir. Ultimately Clubs, but Hearts in the meantime.” I replied as sweetly as I could. “I take it you weren’t at the parade, then.” He said, refusing to take my citizen’s card. “I was sir! Is that a requirement?” I asked, profoundly confused. “No, little girl. However, at the conclusion of the parade, the royals announced that Spades would be closing its borders.” “What?” Now I was even more confused. “What good could that possibly serve? They can’t just shut everything down, sir! People have jobs, and families in other states! What do they expect us to do?” “Relax, sweetheart.” He replied condescendingly. “It’s only temporary, they’re looking for somebody. The borders will probably open again in a day or two.” “But sir! Surely they can make an exception! I have to go save a young boy! He’s fallen ill and his father sent for me, I–”

“No exceptions, sweetheart.” The officer replied coldly. “Now I suggest you get back to wherever you came from–who knows? Maybe you’re the one they’re looking for.” “Yeah.” I whispered, turning away. “Maybe”

I couldn’t believe it. I did know this for sure though–that I wasn’t about to let some royals be the reason a young boy died. So, I decided. I would take the route I had only heard of from elders around the Rocklands–through the woods and into the smaller villages in Hearts. I returned home, and put on an old, brown dress. I don’t know, I figured it might help me blend in better. When I mounted Cassie again, I began the ride to the pond that supposedly marked the beginning of the path. It was close to Yushi’s cottage–we used to play in it when we were little. I got closer, and my heart rate increased. How would we fare in the woods, Cassie and I? What would we find there? How long would we have to travel? I wasn’t sure–I couldn’t be. But somebody needed me, so I had to be brave. 

The path was faded, but I was sure I found it. It must’ve been used by people years ago, when the divide between states wasn’t so…harsh. It must’ve been a much better time. But then again, what would I know? I prepared myself to enter the path, and just as we began to take our first strides into uncertainty, I began to hear voices. For a moment I considered that I might be going a touch crazy with nervousness, but then, when I turned my head, I saw that the sources were very real, and even more terrifying. Yushi was standing just outside his door, speaking to four men. Three in blue suits with silver accents, and one in all black with dark glasses. I would eventually discover the real reason that the royals had been at Yushi’s door that evening, however it was not on that day. Instead of asking, I elected to take off as quickly as possible. 

 The woods were thick and dark on both sides of the path, but there was enough light from the sun above for us to keep sure of our footing. I was initially frightened of the small noises and large deer in the woods, but we made it through relatively unscathed. Light from an opening in the trees engulfed Cassie and I, and I could hardly believe my eyes. It was just a few feet away.

HEARTS

I had been to Hearts before. Still though, the differences between this place and my home were shocking. Hearts had no jagged rocks or high winds. The Sun seemed to live here, and only begrudgingly visit Spades when it felt that it had to. Pink flowering trees bloomed absolutely everywhere, coaxed out of hiding by the warm spring breeze. Beyond the small houses along the border of the forest, a red city rose out of the rosy vegetation, seemingly in harmony with the nature around it. Cassie and I had to stop to catch our breath for a while, and I was quite glad that this was the sight we were to enjoy while we did. 

As we began to walk the faint path into town, I noticed people buzzing about with excitement. They were chattering about something, but I figured it wouldn’t be anything important to our journey. I figured. The farther along I got, the more I noticed that everyone was wearing red, and the more I noticed that everyone seemed to be hurling offended and confused looks towards Cassie and I. Now Cassie is quite the beautiful horse–she was white with painted brown spots and auburn streaks in her white mane and tail. So, I put together that people likely weren’t directing their looks towards her. I grimaced as I kept walking, and tried to keep my head down. That was, until I ran into a tall man wearing a red Hearts uniform. 

“Excuse me, but what exactly do you think you’re wearing?” He grumbled in an irritated tone. “A…a dress, sir.” “That dress could get you fined. I’ll never understand your generation. So against any type of authority. Is this your way of rebelling? Because it’s pathetic.” “I’m very sorry, sir,” I replied cautiously, “But I don’t understand. I’m not trying to rebel at all! This…this is the only dress I have.” I couldn’t tell him that I was traveling from Spades–there was a chance he knew about the travel ban. So, I figured that being purposefully vague was the way to go. “Well then I suggest you get a new one. Now. There's a shop right down this road–it’s cheap, built for villagers like yourself.”

With that, he left, and left me confused. Not about who the court was–that was what the Hearts royals were called, and not about his opinion of me as a villager. There was sentiment like that in all the kingdoms–people from the Rocklands or the Village, they were all the same to people from the big cities. What confused me was why he was so upset about my dress. It wasn’t expensive or fancy, but it was fine! And in a nice neutral color! Regardless, I figured that if I wanted my journey to continue through here, I better get myself a new dress. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to blend in with the people–just in case anyone from Spades came looking for me. 

The dress shop seemed humble–a little pink building with a sign out front–”Style By Sakuya.” I walked in though, and I was blown away. Clothes of every shade of red one could imagine lined champagne-colored walls; gowns, blazers, and skirts covered almost every inch. “Hello!” I heard a voice call from somewhere deep in the store, “Just to let you know, we’re having a court day special sale! Thirty percent off everything!” “Oh!” I replied, caught a little off-guard. “Thanks–I’ll keep that in mind!” I took a few steps deeper into the sea of gorgeous designs, and a head popped out from behind a display rack. 

“Oh my God!” It exclaimed, “What are you wearing?” These people. Seriously. “A dress.” I said, sounding a little more irritated than I meant to. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you!” said the boy, stepping out from behind a fuchsia suit hanging on a rack. “I get it. Who are they to tell us what to wear? But still, it’s kinda fun to see everyone so dressed up, putting their own little spin on things!” “Yes…” I replied, cautiously. “I just don’t like being told that I have to dress nice!” That must’ve been it. Their court probably mandated that everyone wear their finest clothing today. For what reason, I was unaware. But, better to let on like I know all about it. “Yeah…what are you talking about?” Asked the boy, “Because I think we heard different announcements.” “Umm…” I stumbled, “I mean…” 

“I don’t think you’re from here!” He cried. “Wow! I’ve never really talked to someone from another kingdom before! This is so exciting!” I had been caught! I was trying to fit in better and I got caught within the first half hour of being here! “Wait!” He exclaimed. “How’d you get here? All the borders are closed.” Christ. This just got so much more complicated. “I, uh, I don’t know.” I replied, very intelligently and eloquently. “Don’t worry!” He yelled, “I’m not going to turn you in! In fact, I admire your bravery! Okay–pretend this never happened. I have no idea you’re actually a fugitive who has no idea she’s actually supposed to be wearing red today. Hi, fellow Hearts person! I’m Sakuya! It’s a pleasure.” 

I laughed–thank God it had been his store I happened to be closest to. “Hi, Sakuya, I’m Seven. Seven of Sp- Hearts. Seven of Hearts.” “Hmm.” He said, “That’s kind of a weird name. But it’ll definitely help you stand out at the courting festival tonight!” “The what?” I asked, growing a little exasperated with the surprises I kept running into. “The courting festival!” Sakuya exclaimed. “Obviously you know that a mystic predicted that a girl would emerge out of the many citizens of all kingdoms meant to unite us all!” He winked. “She’s destined to marry a collection of court members of all the kingdoms!” “Yes..” I began, “Of course I know that!” I did not, in fact, know that. The Spades royals were never known for sharing their personal lives with the people. 

“Just because my memory fails me,” I said, “Which, um, which royals would these be?” “Court members.” Sakuya corrected quickly. “Nobody knows for sure. But, it’s definitely the Queen and Jack of Hearts. That’s why they’re the focus of the festival! They’re sure they can find the girl, and that she’s from Hearts. After all, love is kind of our thing! Right?” “Yes.” I nodded, smiling. “It definitely is. So that’s why everybody’s so dressed up?” I asked. “Yes, of course!” Sakuya returned my smile, “All the young, single citizens are required to attend. That means you now, too!” He seemed to realize mid-way through his sentence. “We need to find you something to wear, then! Unless, of course, you took a gorgeous red ball gown with you on your journey.” At that, I laughed. “No! Usually I would, but I just didn’t have enough room this time!” It was Sakuya’s turn to laugh. “Well then,” He stated. “Let’s see what we can find for you.” 

As I went through outfit after outfit, worry began to creep in. I had already planned to spend the night here, but now with the borders closed everywhere, and a mandatory festival, things became a lot more complicated within a very short span of time. Still, I had a job to do. I refused to be intimidated by some men set on finding a wife. That somehow made me angrier–that instead of closing borders because of conflict or a criminal, they closed them to try to control and track down some poor, unassuming girl. She had no idea that she was the reason that people were being kept from their jobs and families. Still, if I ever happened to run into her, I decided that she would be receiving one hell of a look. It wasn’t fair, but I resented this random chick. 

After what felt like hours, Sakuya finally handed me something that he said he had only just finished. “I’m not really sure if I like it,” he began, “I haven’t seen the way it sits when it’s worn yet.” “I’m sure it’s beautiful.” I reassured him. I slipped it on, and pushed the curtain of the small fitting room aside. You really ought to put a mirror in there, Sakuya. I can’t ev-""Seven!” He practically screamed, “It’s stunning! I’m a genius!” I let out a breath. “I told you it would look good.” I said. “Absolutely!” He jumped, “You have to wear it tonight! Please!” “I will,” I started, “But I can’t afford this. Sell it to a rich person.” I recommended it as I began to walk back into the dressing room. “No, Seven! Don’t you understand? If you’re there wearing that in front of like, the entire kingdom tonight, it’s free prime advertising! I couldn’t pay for better business!” “I don’t know…” I trailed off. “Please?” He asked, looking at me with a little pout. “Ugh!” I exclaimed, “Fine! I would be honored. Thank you, Sakuya. Really. Thank you.” He smiled. “Of course! I would do anything for you! After all, we’ve known each other for, like, an entire day.” I laughed, he laughed, and then he rushed off to get his own outfit ready. Tonight was definitely going to be exciting. 

Sakuya let me leave Cassie outside around the back of the store, and we decided to walk together down to the festival. He claimed the palace wasn’t too far, and he proved to be right. It didn’t take us long to approach the great, polished red gates. Luckily, there were too many people flowing in for anybody to care too much about exactly who was there and where exactly they were from, so getting inside wasn’t an issue. The crowd was large, but the hall was much larger, rising high over our heads in grand triangular arches. The walls were, of course, shades of red and pink, along with everything else in the kingdom. The color of Spades was blue, so seeing this much of another color was a surreal experience. 

“I should come here more.” I whispered to Sakuya, “It’s beautiful.” “Thanks!” He smiled, “We try.” “Where is the court?” I asked. “Shouldn’t they be announced for their own festival? “Not sure,” he shrugged, “They can be unpredictable at times.” I nodded. We walked around a little more, Sakuya occasionally greeting an old friend or client. Just as I began to grow a little bored, I decided that now would be a good time to use the bathroom–after all, it had been a while. “Hey, Sakuya” I turned to him, “Do you know where the bathroom is?” I asked. “Why would I know that?” He said. “I’ve never been here before! I’m from the Village.” “Okay! I’m sorry!” I laughed at his very spirited reply. “I’m gonna go find it myself.” I began to wade through the crowd, not really committing to any specific direction. My plan was to get to the edge of the crowd, and work my way along the walls. The worst that could happen would be that I end up back outside, and then I could just ask one of the guards. 

I stumbled into a pretty isolated corner, where only one man seemed to notice me. He looked a little older than I was, but still young. He looked a little feminine, but still very confident. Beautiful–that went without saying. His hair was pink, and fell perfectly below his ear. He wore a baby pink suit with a white collar underneath, and…a small crown on his head. Now, keep in mind, the people of Hearts love their fashion, so I didn’t think anything of this. Plenty of people had jewelry on their heads, so I figured he had just taken inspiration from the regal setting. 

“Hello.” He said softly as I made my way closer to him. “Your dress is…beautiful.” “Thanks.” I replied, never one to receive compliments. “Are you looking for the bathroom too?” I asked, and he started to laugh. It was such a pleasant sound. “No, I just wanted to step away from the crowd for a minute.” He smiled at me. “I knew it would be big, but not like this. The bathroom is probably absolutely full–I’ll take you to another one elsewhere in the palace. It’ll be a lot shorter of a wait.” “That’s very nice of you,” I said as I followed him farther down the halls of the magnificent building.”How do you know the palace so well?” He looked quite amused at that, and I just couldn’t figure out why he was getting such a big kick out of it. I figured I might’ve done something culturally incorrect or weird, but I was in too deep to explain myself now. Who cared if this breathtaking stranger thought I was weird? I had a job to do. 

“I live here.” He replied after a beat. “You..you live here?” I asked. “That’s amazing!” I gushed, “You’re so lucky. What did you do to get that arranged? Do you work here? “Where are you from?” He asked, evading my question. “Oh, the..the Village.” “No, really. Where are you from?” He asked again. “The Village!” I asserted, much more sure this time. He just smiled and shook his head. “You can use this bathroom. He said, and opened a large white door into an elegant white bathroom with vases of pink roses scattered about tastefully. “Think about my question more while you’re in there.” He said. “I would like a better answer once you’re done.”

I slipped in, and considered my options. I could lock myself in here all night, but who's to say he wouldn’t call some guards on me. I could burst out and make a run for it, but I probably wouldn’t make it that far. After careful thought, I decided to just alter my story. I would originally be from Clubs, but I moved to Hearts a month or two ago. That would explain my lack of cultural awareness, and completely distance me from Spades. Just as I reached for the door handle, I heard my stranger talking to another man.

“Jungwoo? What are you doing here? I’ve been looking all night for our girl and you’re here standing around?” “Oh please, Jisung.” Stranger, who’s name was apparently Jungwoo, replied. “I bet you’ve talked to three people at most.” “Three more than you have!” Jisung yelled back. “Actually,” Jungwoo began, “I think I’ve found her. And She’s listening to us right now. You can come out, I know you’re right next to the door.” Me? Was he talking about me? I opened the door. “What are you talking about?” I asked. I turned to see the man called Jisung. He was tall, and the opposite of Jungwoo. Masculine, with strong arms, but shy and timid. “You..you’re very pretty.” He said and looked away. “Is that all you’ve got to say, Jisung?” Asked Jungwoo. “I’m sorry,” Jisung blushed. “I’ve never really done this before. “Neither have I!” Jungwoo retorted, “But I still did better than that!” 

“What is going on!” I asked, much louder this time. “You didn’t tell her?” Asked Jisung. “Real Cassanova huh. We, um, well you know that this festival is so we can try to find the girl from the prophecy.” “We?” I asked. “Oh shit. We. You! I mean. You’re..” “I’m Queen Jungwoo.” He smiled and reached for my hand. “And I’m Jisung, Jack of Hearts. But didn’t you already know that?” He looked at Jungwoo. “Apparently not, Jungwoo replied, turning to look at me. “Who are you, and where are you from? Please, it’s very important that you tell the truth. After all, we might end up married to you soon. 

My cheeks turned about as crimson as my dress, and I stared at them incredulously. How did I end up here? I just needed to pee! “I…I’m Seven. Seven of Clubs.” “Seven?” Asked Jisung. “Not your status, your name. What’s your name?” “It’s Seven.” I said “It’s both–my status and my name. Makes it easier on everyone.” At that, Jungwoo let out an even bigger laugh than he had before. “You’re parents sound fun! I can’t wait to meet them!” He said, dragging me back down the hallway. “Yeah…” I began. I had to get out of here–I was a fugitive with a place to be by morning. This could mean terrible things, both for me and the Wang family. “Listen, my friend Sakuya is out there. I better tell him where I am–he’s probably worried sick!” I said, stopping in my tracks. “Oh don’t worry about that,” Jisung said from behind me, “We’ll have our people go inform him. He’ll be happy for you.” “Right.” I replied, already beginning to try and formulate my next escape plan. 

We kept walking, and eventually ended up in a large room of the same pink that covered the rest of the palace. White and red furniture was strategically placed around the space, making it feel like more of a comfortable seating area than a grand reception room. Couches were littered with plush pillows and soft blankets and paintings hung on every wall. Just as I was led to sit down on a comfortable white cushioned chair, I realized how dire this situation really was. I was a fugitive–worse, a fugitive with a job to do and a place to be. I was in the reception room of two of the most powerful people of Hearts. I could be sent back in a second, and who knows what kind of trouble I would have been in if I made it back there led by men in red uniforms. I had to find a way out of here, but it had to be smart.

“Listen, sirs,” I began, slowly trying to think of the perfect words, “I’m very flattered, and honored. Truly, I am. But I’m not your girl. I can’t be.” “Why not?” Asked Jisung, his demeanor suddenly became downtrodden. “And please,” added Jungwoo, “Call us by our names.” I had to choose my next words carefully–very carefully. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m not… a court member, or royal, or regal. I don’t know the first thing about politics! I stopped going to school when I was young–you’re looking for someone educated. Somebody beautiful and smart. Somebody who has the talent to bring people together! I can’t do that.” 

They stayed silent for a moment or two, breathing and looking at their shoes. Then, Jungwoo raised his head to look straight into my eyes. “Just…just give us a chance. You’re special, Seven. I can feel that. Spend the night. Have dinner with us. Please.” To this day, I still don’t know what came over me at that moment. “Okay.” I said, a small, shy smile blooming across my face. “But I’m sure you’ll see by the end of the night–I’m not your girl.” The two men glanced at each other, and Jisung shook his head at me. “Maybe.” He said, slightly insincerely. 

I had never experienced such luxury in my life. We had a complete meal of foods I couldn’t even name–vegetables and meats I’d never even seen in the Rocklands. We sat and discussed dreams and when the sky was prettiest–I said at sunset, but Jungwoo was adamant that the sunrise was truly the most gorgeous time. Jisung tried to teach me how to dance, at which my skills needed greatly improving. Jungwoo sang and clapped in the back, and for a moment–just a moment–I let myself believe that maybe I could be the girl of their prophecy. A princess. They made it seem so easy; laughing and yelling like boys from the countryside, despite rarely leaving a castle. I had never smiled so wide or clutched my side laughing like I did that night. 

Just as it grew time to get ready for bed, and the last festival guests trickled away, Jungwoo took both of my hands in his. Jisung stood next to him, his hand on Jungwoo’s shoulder. “Seven,” Jungwoo began, “When I first saw you wandering around the edge of the crowd, something about you caught my eye. After spending this evening with you, I’ve only grown more confident that you were meant to be the one to unite these kingdoms. Please, I’ll write to the others. I’ll send a messenger. Stay here with us, and meet them. You are what we need.” I grew sad, watching such a powerful person be so soft around me of all people. They had truly opened up to a person who did nothing but lie to them. Still, I couldn’t reveal myself now–the Wangs were waiting. 

“Let me sleep on it…please.” I whispered, looking down at the dark wooden floors. “Of course.” They said in near unison. “I’m going to go inform King Taeyong of our status–Jisung, would you mind leading Seven to our nicest guest room?” “Of course,” Jisung nodded, reaching to hook his arm with mine. “C’mon Seven.” “Goodnight!” Jungwoo called, disappearing down one of the identical corridors. “Night.” I exhaled, silently. 

“Here,” Jisung turned to face me after a few minutes of walking, “I hope you rest comfortably. I’ll see you in the morning.” I nodded, yet he didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he leaned in close to my face, looked into my eyes for permission, and when I closed my eyes in invitation, kissed me softly. After too short of a time, he pulled away, tucked my hair behind my ear, and whispered, “There’s an extra night robe in the drawer. I’ll see you in the morning, Seven.” Before I could respond, he turned on his heel and left me standing there outside the door, a single tear rolling down my cheek. A tear for what I could have, and for what I would rob them of. 

I tried to sleep for a few hours, but floated in and out of restlessness. After a while, I decided it would be better to escape sooner rather than later. I slipped my crimson gown back on, and instead of risking wandering the halls and being seen, elected to slip out of the grand window on the South side of the room. I don’t know how I remembered the path to Sakuya’s, but somehow I made it within the hour. Under the light of a nearly full moon, I gathered my brown dress in the pack with all my other materials for the journey, and hopped back into the saddle atop Cassie. We rode in silence as tears rolled down my cheeks, hugging the outer borders of the kingdom rather than pass straight through. 

Before we entered the woods again, I took a deep breath and stole one last look at where my home could’ve been. No–it wouldn’t have worked. They would have discovered who I really was, and where I truly came from. So really, I was protecting us all; the girl from the Rocklands, the kind dressmaker, and the two boys who almost wished to make her their whole future. 

Halfway through the woods, still under the cover of darkness, I changed back into my brown dress. I considered leaving my red one there, as a sign that nothing terrible had happened just in case they decided to come looking for me, but I figured that would invite more danger than peace. I also couldn’t stand to leave it behind. Both the gown, and the memories sewn into its very fabric. I was horrifically tired, and couldn’t tell how much farther I had to go. So, despite my better judgment, I decided to curl up against a tree–just for a little while. As my eyes fluttered shut, I mourned Jungwoo and Jisung, and silently prayed that they soon found the girl destined to be theirs.

A/N: Feel free to ask me any questions guys! I'd be happy to answer them! Next part will include Jeno and Xiaojun!

[nuoyipeach]

Five Senses

Yuta X Sooyoung X Seulgi X Taeyong

two love stories of soulmates two vampire brothers having trouble finding theirs they will know their soulmates, by the five sense if only it were as easy as it seemed as they discover hidden truths and unravel mysterious connections

cont.

Part 1 -> YutaXJoy

Part 2 -> SeulgiXTaeyong

[luumiinaa]

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

Besties trauma-bonding together 😂

Jaehyun: Coming of Age

Characters: Jaehyun x female reader

Genre/warnings: soulmate au, body-switching au, college au, humor, fluff, slight angst, soulmate!jaehyun, best friend!mingyu, jaehyun’s best friend!johnny, every soulmate has a different ‘thing’, reader is celebrating her 18th birthday, jaehyun is a senior in college and reader is a freshman/sophomore, reader is shorter than mingyu, one mention of reader having her period but it doesn’t actively happen

Word count: 5,533

Summary: You knew everybody had a soulmate, and you knew what would eventually happen because of that. The way you find your soulmate is different for everyone, but the way you find yours has you thinking you’re in some 00′s teen movie because you wake up in the body of Jung Jaehyun.

a/n: a very, very, very, very late birthday present to one of my favorite people, @floodlitesc :] she gave me three options for people to write for, so I tried to incorporate a little bit of everybody somehow. but anyway, I hope you like it my lil sunshine!!! (also I apologize for any errors!!!)

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