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angelicyoongie · 11 months

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lovesick (XI)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 4.6k — warnings: yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.

Previous – Next

You rest your head on the back of the couch, staring out at the snowflakes that drift to the ground one by one. The trees outside are blanketed in a thin layer of snow, white powder clinging to barren branches. Time has moved quickly yet all too slowly since you were brought here, the days blending into nothing. Judging by the weather, you think it must be late November by now. You prefer not to ask – without the finality of an exact date, it's easier to pretend that you haven't been here for over two months.

There's a soft hum going throughout the entire cabin, portable heaters working overtime to keep the chill out. Seokjin must've bought out an entire store with how many there are scattered around, the first one already appearing the day after Namjoon brought you back. The heaters have been added one by one with each passing week as the temperatures have continued to drop and you're honestly amazed that the old cabin can even handle such a high energy consumption. You do sometimes wonder how Jimin has explained away the no-doubt skyrocketing electrical bill, but considering no one has come to check it out; the station clearly doesn't find it all that suspicious.

You shiver instinctively as the wind howls, the thin windows fighting against the frost that's beginning to cling to them. The crackling fireplace can't keep every room warm, not anymore, but it still gives the common room a little boost of coziness, a little extra warmth whenever the wind picks up outside. You're not actually cold but that doesn't stop the arm around your waist from pulling you back, plastering you against Taehyung's chest.

Seokjin didn't lie when he told you that they would be watching you around the clock.

Your personal bubble is constantly invaded, the chilly weather being the perfect excuse for the boys to cling to you like a second skin. Some part of you is always being touched, regardless of whether you like it or not. They like to pretend it's just to 'keep you warm' but you can see the thinly veiled threat for what it is. This is their way of reminding you that they don't trust you – that you've brought all of this upon yourself.

"What are you thinking about, babe?" Taehyung mumbles sleepily against the back of your neck.

"Nothing special," You say, the words tumbling out easier than you'd like. "I'm just not looking forward to how cold it's going to get up here."

"Hmm," Taehyung's mouth flutters over your skin as he tightens his grip around your waist, "You don't have to be worried, Y/n, I'm sure we can come up with lots of ways to keep you warm."

You can't remember when your skin stopped crawling at Taehyung's flirty remarks.

Maybe it was after those two weeks he and Jimin had been banned from the cabin – their own personal punishment for pushing you too far. You didn't think much of it, didn't care about how they fought and yelled about how unfair it was. You were still trapped, so what difference did five or seven hovering soulmates make? After all, the two of them had set you up, ruined your plans, so it felt like a small victory that their actions actually had consequences. Taehyung and Jimin didn't cross your mind once while they were away. So why, why, did you feel like you had missed them the day they returned?

It was like a switch had been flipped in their absence, one you couldn't turn back off. Ever since that night you let yourself be held by Seokjin, something had happened. You could no longer find the energy to flinch or frown when they reached out to touch you. Their sweet words and love stricken gazes didn't garner the same disgust as it used to. It was like the fight had been drained out of you. You were so tired of feeling scared, angry, hopeless, so you simply just... stopped.

Something in you finally gave up that night and decided it was time to accept your fate. It was easier. It hurt less. And so you've slowly been coming to terms with it, with this, ever since.

You sink into Taehyung's embrace as he lays back down on the couch, your head on his chest and your legs tangled together in the cramped space. He lets out a content breath at the way your body relaxes into him, at how you hold on to him like you want to be there.

Small patterns are drawn on your back as you listen to the steady beat of Taehyung's heart. A wooden log crackles and fusses as it breaks apart, sending small embers floating into the burning flames. You never expected that you would ever end up here, feeling uncomfortable and yet somehow, undoubtedly, safe in one of your stalkers' arms.

It should make you horrified, repulsed, after everything they put you through, but you can't help the way your soul sings at the close proximity. Being around them is starting to feel right – and you're no longer sure how much of you, the real you, will be left by the time the soulbond truly settles.

It doesn't matter how much you hate it. You can't do anything to change it as long as you're stuck here, with them.

You stare at the flickering flames, releasing a shuddering sigh.

Maybe... Maybe your next life will be better.

That's the only comforting thought you allow yourself to have.

"Can you pass me the salt, sunshine?"

You wordlessly hand the shaker over to Hoseok, watching as he only adds a little dash to the dough he's mixing up. His arm flexes as he combines it all into a firm ball, strong hands making quick work of the rather heavy dough. After you let it slip a few days ago that you were craving cookies, Hoseok decided to make it his mission to bake you some. The amount of dough he's mixing up would have been enough to feed you for weeks if you were alone – but since you're currently living with seven men who can eat their own body weight for breakfast, lunch and dinner – it might just last you two days if you're lucky.

Leaning your hip against the counter, you bite your lip as you continue to watch Hoseok work.

There is a question you've been burning to ask him, that you feel like you need to know before you can fully accept your new reality; how did he find you?

While the other boys have told you of their own volition, Hoseok still hasn't mentioned it. You know he first saw you at that fundraiser but that doesn't explain how he managed to figure out your name or address. You had barely worked at Filter for a month when the event happened, so it's not like any of the other vendors knew who you were. The booth for the café was listed under your boss' name and you weren't wearing a name tag, so how did he do it?

"Take a picture Y/n, it'll last you longer," Hoseok grins as he catches you staring at his profile.

"Huh? N-no, I–" You stammer, eyes widening as you realize you must have zoned out while you were thinking.

You're momentarily saved from your embarrassment as Yoongi peeks his head into the kitchen, hair windswept and his cheeks flushed from the cold.

"I got you what you asked for from the store," He announces, showing you the plastic bag in his hand.

"Thank you, Yoongi," You don't fight the soft smile that settles on your lips, your heart fluttering treacherously at the sweet grin you get in return.

"Anything for you," He mumbles shyly as he leaves the bag by the kitchen entrance, cheeks a little pinker than before as he goes back to the common room.

Your eyes jump from the plastic bag to one of the kitchen shelves just above it, gaze getting caught on the familiar black box that's perched upon it. The sight of it still makes something sour explode in your stomach. The contents inside are the whole reason you ended up here in the first place and you hate that you have to look at it every day. You've weighed the consequences of getting rid of it once or twice, of tossing it into the fireplace and watching the kaleidoscope of coloured letters burn into nothing, but you just can't find it in yourself to do so. Even if you'll never be able to use it, it's still evidence.

It's not the only thing that's been collected from your apartment, either. The mantle above the fireplace is decorated with a few of Taehyung's postcards and some of Yoongi's lyrics are framed on the wall alongside pictures Seokjin snapped of you. They must've removed all their gifts and letters to cover their tracks shortly after they took you. You're not sure why they felt the need to bring them here but you're sure that they have some twisted explanation for it.

You can practically hear Jimin's voice saying 'we got you such nice gifts baby, why shouldn't they be on display?' whenever you look at them.

"Hyung is such a softie," Hoseok chuckles, his voice bringing you out of your thoughts.

You make a sound in agreement, shifting your weight nervously as you watch him finish up the dough. He carefully adds a pile of chopped-up chocolate, working the pieces into the firm mixture.

As Hoseok pops the bowl into the fridge and moves over to the sink to wash his hands, you clear your throat, finally blurting out a rushed, "Can I ask you something?"

Hoseok hums under his breath as he scrubs his skin clean, taking his sweet time as he leaves you waiting for an answer. You barely catch the quick flicker of his gaze on your neck, eyes lingering on the bare skin that's visible above your sweater before he turns back to shut off the sink.

"Sure," He agrees, eyebrow quirking as he reaches out for a towel to dry his hands, "I'll answer your questions if you promise to do something for me afterward."

You swallow thickly, uncertainty prickling at the back of your skull. You have no idea what kind of favour Hoseok will ask of you in return, but you're too curious to pass this chance up.

"Okay," You nod. The gleam in Hoseok's eyes leaves you a little unsettled but you need to know the answer to your question.

The fridge buzzes loudly in the beat of silence that passes between you. Hoseok leans against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other as he gives you an encouraging nod. "Ask away then, sunshine."

"I want to know how you found me, how you figured out where I live," You breathe, your pulse kicking at the flash of surprise that passes over Hoseok's features.

"Hm. That's a rather unexpected question but you'll get your answer," Hoseok says, pursing his lips.

"I first saw you at the fundraiser, you know that. I wanted to approach you, offer to drive you home to make sure you were okay after that bitch touched you–"

Hoseok utters the word with such venom it makes the hair on your arms raise, "–but your friend beat me to it. Heejun, was it? I couldn't just leave you, not after finally finding my soulmate, so I decided to follow you."

Your heart squeezes at the mention of your best friend, longing filling every inch of your chest.

"I wanted to make sure that you got home safe. I actually tried to approach you a few times after your shifts at Filter but something always got in the way, and you slipped away before I had the chance to introduce myself," He sighs.

"After a few weeks, I felt like I had missed my window but I couldn't just give up, not when I had finally found you. So I figured there was no harm in continuing to watch you from afar, making sure you were safe while I figured out how to break the news to you. By the way, your building isn't all that safe, sunshine, I got ahold of your apartment number just by asking one of the old ladies who were having a smoke outside."

Hoseok shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he wasn't part of the problem that made your apartment unsafe in the first place.

"I thought giving you letters and gifts was romantic, that it would make you curious about who your secret admirer might be – that you would feel happy to know there was someone out there who cared for you," Hoseok gives a flat chuckle. His eyes are stormy as they flick over to the black box, "But it turns out I was doing the opposite. I can't believe Tae managed to influence the bond that much."

Hoseok seems surprisingly upset about how things played out, like he actually thought he was doing something nice.

You give a small shrug, knowing that there's nothing you can say to lighten the mood. Even without Taehyung's influence, Hoseok still took things way too far – he was the one who decided to drug you, after all.

"Did that answer your question, Y/n?"

"Yeah, thank you," You murmur.

Although it still makes a burst of fear flare up in your chest every time you think about what they've put you through, it's nice to finally know exactly how Hoseok did it. Although it's too late to do anything about it now, there is some solace in finally getting an answer to one of the many questions you've had ever since the first envelope showed up.

"Now for your end of the deal," Hoseok says, nimble legs already carrying him across the kitchen, "Stay here for a second, sunshine, I'll be right back!"

Hoseok is only out of the room for thirty seconds tops before he returns, one hand hidden behind his back. He watches you carefully as he presents a familiar flat squared box to you, dark eyes drinking in every minuscule detail of your reaction.

"Oh, that's–"

Your voice tapers off as Hoseok opens the box, revealing a necklace you've seen before. It's one of the jewelry pieces he gifted you alongside his letters, one of many you had stashed away under your bed to forget about. The golden chain is attached to a small, dainty sun pendant, the design simple yet clearly expensive.

You have seen this necklace somewhere else before too, though. Your gaze flickers up to Hoseok's neck as you're hit with the memory of your first visit to his shop; of how you noticed the chain that slipped out of his shirt as he assisted you.

It's the exact same design.

"They match," Hoseok confirms as he gently takes the necklace out of the box.

Couple necklaces.

You give him a weak smile, "That's very, um, sweet."

"Isn't it?" Hoseok looks fondly down at the piece of jewelry. "Will you turn around so I can put it on you?"

You do so easily, knowing that Hoseok could have asked you for something far worse in return for sating your curiosity.

Hoseok's breath hits the back of your neck as he steps closer, the warmth sending goosebumps all over your skin. You can almost feel the rise and fall of his chest as he brings the necklace around your neck, clasping it in place. The tips of his fingers skate across your throat under the pretense of fixing the chain, your breath hitching as a fluttering kiss is placed just below your ear.

"Fits you perfectly," Hoseok murmurs against your skin.

"Thank you," You whisper, swallowing thickly. You bring a hand up to touch the necklace, feeling how the pendant rests in the nook between your collarbone.

Hoseok hands trail down the outline of your body as he pulls back, squeezing your hips as he reluctantly says, "You can go join the others in the common room, sunshine. We need to wait a bit before we can bake the cookies and there's no point getting the other snacks ready too soon, the others will just hover it up."

"S-sounds good," You almost feel a little unsteady on your feet as Hoseok's touch finally leaves you. You flash him another feeble smile as you try not to hurry too quickly out of the kitchen, your hand moving from your gifted necklace to your chest.

Did your heart just race because Hoseok touched you – because he kissed you?

You halt in the hallway, in the one blind spot the cabin offers from the common room. Taking deep breaths to collect yourself, you will your heart to slow down. This is what you wanted, what you accepted would happen when you decided to give up, and yet, you can't help but feel a little betrayed by your own body.

It's only been a little over a month.

Just how badly is your soul craving them that you're able to give in so easily, so quickly?

"Y/n, darling, I saved you a spot next to me!"

You startle as Namjoon calls out to you, your thoughts slipping away at the sound of his voice.

"Not fair hyung, I saved her a spot too," Jungkook's pout is audible from your hiding spot.

Squaring your shoulders, you push down on the unease that seems to have made itself at home in your bones. After all, isn't this what you wanted; for things to be easier? Why are you still trying to fight it when you know nothing good will come of it?

"Just let it be," You mutter, defeated.

The smile you plaster on as you walk into the common room comes a little easier than before, doesn't feel as fake as it used to. You let yourself be pulled down on the couch between Jungkook and Seokjin, allowing them to fawn over you to their heart's desire.

You don't let yourself linger on the worrying thought that the constant attention is starting to feel nice, for very long.

"Is it too scary for you?"

You startle at the hushed whisper that brushes against your ear just as the heroine screams on screen. Turning your head to look at Seokjin, you find wide eyes staring back at you, his skin paler than normal. He flinches as another shrill yell comes from the TV, his already tight grip around your right hand only growing stronger.

"I'm okay," You murmur back, giving his fingers a light squeeze.

Seokjin visibly deflates at that, his uneasy gaze flickering back to the movie. You clear your throat to tamper down the laugh that wants to bubble up, finding Seokjin's false bravado a little cute. It's clear as day that he's terrified of the scary movie Jungkook chose for your movie night – even without the death grip he has around your hand. You've been feeling Seokjin flinch and cower at every loud sound so far, his body somehow halfway hidden between you and the couch. Still, it seems he doesn't want to admit that it frightens him when the rest of the boys hardly seem fazed by what's playing out in front of them.

"I'm a little thirsty though, do you think you could get me something from the kitchen?" You ask lowly, mindful not to disturb the others.

Seokjin's eyes snap back to you, relief flooding his features at the easy out, "Yes! I'll be right back." He doesn't waste another second before he practically leaps from the couch, the lights turning on as he hurries to the safety of the kitchen.

You flex your fingers with a small wince, skin tingling as blood is finally able to rush back into them. You glance around the room as you wait for the feeling in your hand to fully return, noting how absorbed the rest of the guys look. Jungkook's hold around your left hand has gone slack, his attention fully on the movie. Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung are pressed together on the other couch, a big bowl of popcorn half-devoured between the three of them.

The cookies you 'helped' Hoseok make earlier are almost gone, only a few of them left despite the double batch he cooked up. You quickly reach out to snatch up another one before the rest disappears, your gaze slipping over to Yoongi as you lean back on the couch. He's curled up on one of the chairs nearby, his eyes closing every so often despite the loud bangs and screams that fill the room.

The sight of Yoongi nodding off with his cheek squished in his palm is stupidly endearing, so you end up stuffing the cookie into your mouth to keep your smile at bay. You chew slowly, enjoying the slight crunch from the crispy exterior of the cookie and how the soft insides somehow manage to melt in your mouth at the same time. It's honestly a little unfair just how good it is.

As you swallow the last bite, you glance around the room, confused, realizing Jimin is nowhere to be seen. The previously occupied chair next to Yoongi is now vacant and he isn't sprawled out on the floor anywhere either.

Just as the thought strikes you, you feel the back of the couch dip, a figure gracefully jumping over the backrest to settle into Seokjin's spot. The sudden appearance startles you so badly that you let out a shocked noise, your hand covering your racing heart as Jimin makes himself comfortable. You have no idea how he managed to get to the back of the couch undetected or even why he decided to sneak around, but you've learned over the past month that there's no use questioning Jimin's antics. He simply just does whatever he feels like, when he feels like it.

"Sorry," Jimin grins as he leans closer, not looking very sorry at all. "If I made it too obvious that I was stealing Seokjin hyung's spot, the others would fight me for it."

You can't help the way you instinctively tense up as Jimin draws closer, some hesitancy still lingering after that night he caused you to explode. It has gotten easier over the past month to be near him, the constant forced proximity hasn't given you much of a choice but to grow closer to them. But Jimin has, surprisingly, been putting in some effort to make being around him a little more tolerable too. He's toned down his vulgar flirting and he no longer hovers and glares at you with suspicion whenever you interact with any of the others. It's still not great, but it is better.

Jimin's smile falters as you grow stiff. He lets out a small sigh as he decides to show you mercy and turn his attention to the TV instead of you, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. It isn't until you've gradually begun to relax again, preoccupied with watching the movie, that you lean back into the cushions, feeling Jimin's fingertips brush over your shoulder the moment you do. The touch is light and fleeting, barely even there, as he tests the waters of what you'll allow.

It's clearly an invitation for you to lean into his embrace but he doesn't push you to do it, doesn't force you like he would have a month ago. You think this must be Jimin's attempt at making amends – of him offering to do things at your pace instead of his.

He tentatively curls his hand around your shoulder when you don't pull away, fingers almost floating over your skin with how hard he's trying to not be overbearing.

If Jimin is putting in this much effort, shouldn't you be too? It'll only make things more painless.

Between one deep breath and the next, it almost feels like your mind blanks as you shuffle closer to Jimin, letting him tug you to his chest as his arm drops to your shoulder. He preens with satisfaction that you're allowing him to touch you, chest puffing as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

"Hyung," Jungkook whines from your left as you're pulled further away. His grip tightens around your hand, refusing to let go as he moves after you on the couch. He presses himself flush against your side, huffing as he pulls your hand back into his lap.

"Jungkookie," Jimin glances at him over your head, whispering out an amused, "Why are you holding on to Y/n so tightly, hm? You're not even scared."

Jungkook pouts in the return. "So what? I'm holding Y/n's hand in case she gets scared. I'm just being thoughtful."

Jimin snorts. He raises his hand from your shoulder to ruffle the back of Jungkook's hair, messing up his locks. Jungkook grumbles under his breath at the action but doesn't move to push him away, his head lolling comfortably back into Jimin's touch.

You smile at the cute moment, heart lurching at the ease and content air they have about them whenever they're interacting. They, along with the rest, are such good friends – made for each other, almost – that you often find yourself wondering if your bond is a fluke, if they were actually supposed to be soulmates without you. The theory doesn't feel too far-fetched, not when you see them interact like they're puzzle pieces falling into place, perfectly fitting together.

It only makes you miss Heejun and Jaemin more.

Biting your lip, you turn back to the TV, just in time to watch the heroine escape the house she's been trapped in for the past two hours. The monster she's been running from is left behind, roaring and pacing behind the windows as she runs into the rising sun. Your stomach feels heavy as a hopeful smile spreads on her lips, the horror she's faced almost forgotten as she moves closer and closer to her rescue.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as the camera pans back to the abandoned house before it fades to black, eyes shaking as it hits you that you haven't even thought about leaving the cabin for the last few days. It used to always linger in the back of your mind, squeezing your heart whenever you looked out the window and saw the freedom that was so close, yet so far away. But you can't recall a single moment lately where that was even a fleeting thought. Has being around them constantly really strengthened the bond that much, enough that you no longer feel the urge to leave?

You slump into Jimin's embrace, ears ringing as the others begin to stretch and stand up.

With each passing day, it's becoming worryingly easy to just sink into their arms and forget everything you tried to escape from in the first place. Has running away not crossed your mind just because it's been easier to not dwell on a future that's slipping further out of your reach – or, perhaps even more frighteningly, is it because you simply just don't want to anymore?

You stare blankly at Jungkook as he tries to whisk you away to his room for the night, gut churning as your mind runs circles around you. There is one question you can't shake, one you don't have a proper answer for;

Do you want to stay?

a/n: please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter -it means the world to me and makes writing all that much more fun! 💖

dun-dun.... it seems like our poor mc is really struggling with her soulbond :( what do we think about the different scenes of her hanging out with the boys? of her realizing she might actually want to stay with them? i'd love to hear your thoughts!!

(it seems like some of you are a little upset that the mc isn't fighting back more, but please keep in mind that this story was never supposed to be this long and y'all voted for smut, so girlie needs to at least like them before that happens lol)

see you again in two weeks for the next update on november 10th!

#bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere x reader #yandere hoseok #yandere jungkook #yandere jimin #yandere yoongi #yandere taehyung #yandere seokjin #yandere namjoon #yandere kpop

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lani-heart · 8 months

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|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, mention of burns / attack word count -> 1.4k

abstract -> sports day is coming but Sooha isn't any closer to befriending the witch and Niki and Sunghoon seem to be further from their soulmate accepting them anytime soon...

y/n's perspective

The school has opened many things. Last week's announcements were a success, the complaint box was questionable but the school mandated it, and field day was the most looked forward to event which was finally approved.

“Okay, with all these rules, there will be different pairings. The school will randomize the students and equalize the number of students from each school in the different groups” I explained.

“Student council will not be a part of field day, besides the select few who asked for the waiver at the beginning of the week,” Wonyoung said and it was made so student council students didn’t cheat or rig an event.

“So have your planned assignments ready, i’ll review them when you’re done” Wonyoung announced and they nodded.

“y/n, do you know if students are banned from events, yet?” EJ asked and I nodded. “These are the files of each school’s banned list, this is because of powers, suspensions, etcetera. If they’d like to waiver it they need to request a meeting with the counselors” I explained and they nodded.

“If you have any questions please ask an event planner” I said as everyone started leaving or planning. I was gonna leave when I was about to run into Niki… I had to be more careful.

“I wanted to know why my waiver wasn’t approved?” he asked and I sighed.

“Your powers–" "I know, but I really wanted to participate,'' he begged and I sighed seeing how badly he wanted to participate. “I don’t think you can, I'm sorry Niki, '' I apologize. I came to realize he was very athletic and must've looked forward to this. “I just don’t want to be standing around doing nothing” he confessed and I nodded.

“Do you want to be an instructor? You’d be able to determine who wins and how to do things correctly? I was gonna ask K but if–" "Could I?!” he yelled and soon bowed, apologizing for his outburst. It was cute.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll write you up for it, okay?” I asked and he nodded happily.

“Thank you!” he said and I smiled at the energetic boy. He didn’t talk to me often but I knew he was my other soulmate. He didn’t really show skinship with Sooha, I noticed that. She’s mainly ever like that with the oldest ones in their group… and sometimes Jungwon but it got better.

“Are you sure giving him so much power is okay?” I heard Sunoo. “He’ll be fine,” I said and he chuckled. “Sure… and when he purposely makes his favorites win, it'll be on you, miss president” he teased.

“Oh yeah? Are you gonna overthrow me?” I asked and he laughed. “Maybe I should,” he said, and before we could say more I heard a gag. “Seriously in public?” I heard and I laughed. “Eunchae?” I asked and she smiled. “Dinner… with the girls, come on,” she said as she dragged me away.

“Wonnie!!” fun fact… Jungwon and Wonyoung hated each other. Mainly because they share the same nickname.

“Wonyoung!” Eunchae corrected and Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Take that leech! Your own girlfriend chooses me over you!” she taunted and he glared at the girl.

“Sure Wonyoung” he said in a monotone tired voice and she scoffed.

“Hmph, let's go!”

niki’s perspective

y/n was always with Jungwon and Sunoo… or with her friends.

I didn’t know how to approach her and recently I've been helping with cheering up Sunghoon… he's slowly becoming a corpse.

But he hasn’t tried gaining her attention, instead leaving the situation alone.

“Niki, take it easy with her! Don’t overwhelm her!” Sunoo scolded Jungwon by his side also.

“Boys!” I heard as I saw Sooha happily yell at us from our regular table. “What happened today?” Heeseung asked. Since he’s vice president he wasn’t in the meeting today since it was mainly to plan.

“Event planning for the sports day. We were going over regulations” Jungwon explained.

“Who should we look out for?” Jay asked and I laughed. We were definitely more competitive so we needed to win for the Decelis

“Well the Riverfield council is gonna be a threat… the humans I have really no idea, but witches play dirty” Sunoo explained.

“Dirty? That’s unfair then!” Sooha said and for a second I realized Sunghoon was still in the same state…

It’s been a week and yet he’s still badly coping… “Witches are granted to use their powers in some of the games, Sooha” Sunoo said. “Ooh! Is y/n playing?!” She asked and I shook my head.

“Why not?” she soon asked me with a pout… she’s been wanting to play with y/n ever since sports day was announced.

“Her powers aren’t suitable to be playing, because of her specializing in blood magic, being around vampires isn’t a good idea” I explained and she nodded.

“She’ll be watching only,” Jungwon said and I soon felt Sunoo judging me. “Oh and I’m not allowed to play” I said and they looked at me confused.

“What!? I thought y/n was gonna get it fixed for you!” Jay said and I shook my head.

“I can’t play since it’ll be unfair with my powers but I’ll be an instructor!” I said proudly and they didn’t look happy…

“So you’re gonna cheat?” Heeseung asked and I punched him.

“I would never!”

“I want to join the student council!” I heard and honestly, I was shocked… “W-what?” Jungwon stuttered and she smiled softly. “Well… Wonyoung told me recently that I can’t be in the meetings since I'm not a student–""Why is it any of her business?” Jake said annoyed at the mention of a witch.

Recently… especially with Sunghoon getting rejected, he has been very annoyed with Bright Sun… “Huh… Well, she’s right. Besides, I see this as getting y/n to be friends–""Sooha, let it go already. She’s a bitch to you, she rejected Sunghoon… just stop wanting to be friends with her” Jake said and I saw Jungwon glare at our hyung…

“Jake… shut up!” Sunoo said and he scoffed.

“Why should I? You really can’t see how rude she is? To Sooha… and look at Sunghoon!” Jake argued and he only shook his head… “She has every reason to hate us… she didn’t accept Jungwon at first either” Sunghoon defended and Jake scoffed.

“Jake stop–” “Not you too Heeseung” he interrupted and the oldest sighed… he couldn’t have a say in it… but I had a bad feeling about how Jake was acting.

“I need air”

jake’s perspective

Everything was better before the merge, before meeting y/n, before meeting Riverfrield… y/n wasn’t Sooha, she was my soulmate but Sooha would always be more to me than the little witch would.

I walked with no destination… So why was I here?

“Oh… hello?” she said and I felt annoyed at seeing her. “Stay away from Sooha” I warned and she looked shocked but shrugged. “You should tell her that,” she said indifferently and I scoffed.

“What are you trying to say? You are nothing but mean to her!” I yelled and she looked confused… “I’ve never once been mean to her! I have every right to but I don’t” she said and I laughed.

“It's not my fault hyung loves her more than you, that I do her more than you,” I said and I saw her flinch a little until scoffing.

“Gonna pull a Heeseung and reject me too?” she asked and I got closer… I grabbed the collar of her uniform tightly as I made sure to look her in the eyes.

I felt the tingles you would at touching your soulmate… but I wouldn’t let that blind me.

“I’m rejecting you… you’re nothing but a servant of nature. And if you don’t stay away from Sooha or the rest of us will make your life a living hell” I said and her face contorted with fear… it was better this way… so why did I smell burning?

“y/n!” I heard as I let her go and I saw one of her roommates… I then looked back at y/n who was on the floor now shuffling away from me… I saw the burnt clothes and even some of her skin?

Did I lose control again?

“Hyung!” I heard as I saw Niki… he looked at what the room was.

It looked bad…

y/n was on the floor… she was crying and whimpering, burns hurt. I know that's because I’ve accidentally done it to people like I did with her.

“y/n are you–” “No… stay over there” she said and I saw Niki’s face fall, like he was heartbroken. I was frozen. I heard sobs and coaxing words… I couldn’t stop looking at my hands.

I was suddenly grabbed and taken away. I then felt something hit me in the face.

“You’re dead”

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 22 days

Text

dire v, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: The battle.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, this chapter contains blood, violence, and mutilation, world-building, the Dire = wolf people, species discrimination / prejudice, extended hospital stay; no smut for obvious reasons; non-idol!AU - werewolfAU / soulmates; werewolf!reader x blond, human!Jungkook; switches between JK’s POV, your POV, and the Dire Alpha’s POV (your dad), ft bodyguard!Kim Mingyu (from Seventeen, yes, I chose him bc of his build and his friendship with real life JK)

inspired by YOASOBI - 怪物 (Kaibutsu)

part iv

The Dire Alpha did not hesitate.

Once again, his world was falling apart in front of his eyes, but he had to be a leader, a father, a husband before he could be himself. For his people. For his daughter lost in a blinding, berserk rage. His precious pup was now the spitting image of his beautiful wife. For his silver wolf, his mate, his promised one love that he could never get back because many, many years ago he was forced to crush his wife’s throat with his own hands.

He had never cried so much in his life as he did during that one act.

That night long ago, the Alpha’s mate had attended a dinner party with the human Prime Minister, his wife, and prominent members of the Parliament. He was still haunted by those memories. Her darling smile. The gentle kiss on their daughter’s forehead before she kissed him deeply, promising them both that she would be home soon. He hadn’t wanted to go. He wondered every day if that would have made things different or if that choice would have rendered his child parentless. He wondered every day if he should have forced his wife to stay home and entertain their pup with playfighting or racing through the woods while he sourly tried his best to face diplomacy. But she was the kind, wise one that wanted to make peace with the humans. He had not hated them then, merely found them to be boring, but after that night, he loathed their existence. Loathed them so much that he vowed to stay in his wolf form rather than mirror their appearance.

A human had poisoned his wife.

Forced her into a senseless, rage-blinded, uncontrollable wolf transformation. She had killed the wife and a few Parliament members. Severely injured everyone else, including the Prime Minister and several police officers. Civilians standing in her rampaging path stood no chance. The monster had torn through the city and then through the woods, murdering his own people too, and he had run, run on all fours after ordering his panicked pup to imprison herself in the castle, skidding to a stop as he saw the pools of dark red blood that soaked into the earth.

His beautiful wife, so far gone that he could not get her back.

He fought.

He bled.

He howled, and the monster did not relent, not until his claws pierced the windpipe and blood poured into a ravaged throat.

He could not forget her eyes, fading as she recognized him ending her life.

She loved him until the end.

He saw it and he wept as he did it.

The humans had called it the Berserker event. A trembling scientist had explained it to him afterwards. A human posing as a chef had crafted a synthetic poison that they marinated the raw meat in. His wife was the only Dire present. It was a crime between human culprits and a Dire victim, but the Alpha insisted to be the judge in this case. He used everything within his power have the perpetrators turned over to him. The humans had relented, rightfully fearful of his uncontained vengeance. Everyone knew what would happen. He had killed the human and all his backers, making sure to make each of them suffer with his own hands. The records and research were destroyed with the agreement of both sides, and he had demanded the terrified human government to ban all future studies towards such things, commanding them to devise a harsh, detailed law so that this would never happen again.

Never, he was promised.

The humans disliked his attitude. To this day, he was sure they still spoke ill of him behind closed doors. The Alpha detested them in return. He watched his daughter grow up without a mother. He watched her question the world and their place in it. He taught her as he believed his wife would want to teach her, but couldn’t, all because of a group of hateful, conniving humans. He watched her fall in love with a human and thought, maybe.

Maybe it was time to put aside his personal biases for all he had left.

And now his flesh tore as his own daughter bit into his shoulder, forcing him to plant his fist into her lower ribs. Her body snapped, jaw instantly letting go with a hiss, paws skidding across the stones on drawn claws. Blood soaked into his black fur. Red painted over her bared fangs. Pain stabbed throughout him. It was nothing compared to the hole in his heart.

The Alpha crouched, ready to defend once more.

The silver wolf roared, only seeing him as enemy, and launched int the air once more.

He had no time to deduce whether this was vengeance directed at him or specifically targeting his daughter. It did not matter. She charged. He parried, and the silver wolf slammed into the ground ungracefully, immediately springing back up to attack again. Her jaws snapped in the air. He swung his left leg back and used the momentum to slam the heel of his palm into her chin. It should have immediately disoriented a sane fighter, but instead her head snapped back, throwing her body backward into a snarling tumble, before digging her back paws into the stones and swiping at his lower right side.

He grimaced as he felt claws slice into muscle.

He twisted, freeing himself with a labored grimace, and pivoted, sinking his teeth into her right calf flying past him.

His child’s howl of pain was worse than any open wound.

He unlocked his jaw and shoved with all his might, tossing her body into the wall.

A sickening crack impaled the frightened night.

The Berserker rose, growling, hollow gold coins for eyes.

The Alpha had no time to speak, but he prayed to the moon that she could feel his conviction. They locked claws, gashing teeth, rolling into the steps of the throne room, making them both howl in pain. He fought. The monster fought back, twice as savage, but the Alpha knew he was not alone. She was in there, somewhere trapped in the raging abyss, and as long as he believed that, as a parent, he could not give up.

He knew his daughter was in there, desperately trying to cage the beast.

The blood on her fur was only hers and his.

He managed to drive his knee into her underbelly and the silver wolf doubled over, spitting red blood onto his black fur. Her arm shot out and claws tore into his upper arm to bloody ribbons. He struck her again, at the temple, and the monster yelped, collapsing onto stone.

Rising.

The big black wolf exhaled, tasing iron.

He barked and threw himself at the Berserker.

The gold coins of her eyes were dulling in the center. From pain or recognition, he didn’t know. He struck her again, and again, blooming red over that lovely silver fur tipped in black, the obvious fusion of his genes and her mother’s, and the Alpha felt tears sting his eyes.

I know you are in there, Daughter. You must fight. You must win.

A suspended second of hesitation in those gold eyes poisoned with rage.

I cannot lose you, too.

The Alpha gasped as he felt claws bury into his other upper arm.

The harrowing sound of tearing muscle.

He fell to one knee, wrenching himself free with a savage roar.

She had come directly to him. To him., not to rampaging throughout the city, not to the homes throughout the forest. Between the origin point of this Berserker and the stone castle of the Dire Alpha, there had been thousands of beating hearts available to bleed. Thousands of bodies that could have been ripped limb from limb, but were not, all because the Berserker had a single, unrelenting goal to battle him first.

No.

Not the Berserker.

His daughter.

He had to believe.

He drew back his fist and punched his daughter right in the collarbone, hearing a despairing snap, sending her flying once more, desperately howling as fiery pain shot through his arm and chest. The edges of his vision flashed with spots of black.

Silver fur matted dark with red blood began to rise once more. Every breath stung. He was quite sure a few of his ribs were broken. He was not certain if he was able to stand on both legs anymore. He was not even certain if he could raise either of his mutilated arms, yet he would fight with only his swinging head and snapping teeth if that was all that was left of him. A chunk of her right calf was limp on the floor by their battered bodies.

The Alpha raised his head and howled to the moon.

The silver wolf by the wall whimpered, cowering under the tyrant’s call.

Her name called by a panicked, breathless voice.

A human voice.

He smelled the boy through the thick stench of blood.

The monster snarled, snapping its teeth to the intruder. The pain was so intense that his body was beginning to feel numb. The Alpha hunched, coughing up blood. The human was behind him, standing in the mauled doorway of the throne room. The big black wolf did not know how the boy got here, and he did not care.

“She cannot hear you,” he grunted, every word burning his lungs. “Back off, or you will die.”

“S-Sir–”

Even in this state, he rejected the disrespect. “I am the Alpha,” he boomed, his thundering voice radiating off the walls, dragging his arms that felt heavier than lead, curling his claws into fists by his sides. “I am the leader of this Dire pack, I am her father, and you will address me with the title of our customs if you wish to keep your head.”

His broken body was in no place to enforce such threats, but he was too proud a wolf to back down.

For his part, the boy actually listened.

“U-Understood, Alpha.”

The black wolf turned his massive head with effort, baring the half of his teeth that he could.

He was a young man. Dark hair bleached blond now in wild, windswept tresses. Round, startled brown eyes stricken with worry. The black silk dress shirt he was wearing reeked of sweat. The Alpha could smell the exertion and strain of his muscles. He must have run miles. The front gate was normally locked, but perhaps a terrified servant had let him in. Or someone from his human security patrol.

The black spots at the edges of his vision were staying longer and longer. It didn’t matter. Time was running out.

“Please leave,” the Alpha wearily commanded.

The Berserker dragged its claws along the ground, slowly turning its body towards the human. It could no longer walk, but it could crawl with excoriating huffs of agony.

Her mate did not move.

“I hope you can understand that I can’t,” the human choked out, bright eyes glassy with tears.

Before the Alpha could muster the strength to shout, the monster spoke.

“… Fa… Father…”

The fur at of the nape of his neck raised. Chills stung along his aching spine.

Despite his best efforts, his heavy voice broke.

“Yes, Daughter?”

Each breath rattled like decaying leaves crumbling to dust.

“If… If I… no longer remain…”

The glaring gold eyes were dulling and brightening like flickering light bulbs. The monster flopped, convulsing as if electrocuted, one of the front paws swiping the air. It must have happened very quickly, but time became a cruel mistress with a boning knife and no anesthetic, imprinting the torn image into memory. The putrid stench of blood. The horrible sound of claws defiled by stone as his daughter continued to drag the broken body against its will.

“Re… main… t… true…”

Every cell in his body screamed in despair. Out of all things.

He truly was a disappointment as a father.

“If you do not remain true to yourself, you no longer serve your purpose,” he breathed out, ashamed.

The Berserker roared, hurling the broken body of his beloved daughter towards the human. The black wolf clenched his jaw and pressed his knee into the stone, so hard he sliced it open, throwing the entirety of his weight towards his head, aiming for the other blood-soaked wolf, and he toppled to the floor, his torn-up body refusing to obey to his command. He saw the flash of gold before he hit the ground in a wildfire of acute pain, right onto one of his shredded arms.

The sound of grinding bone.

Freely bleeding, gaping cuts on skin.

Jeon Jungkook raced forward, catching the battered, human body of his mate. She looked up at him, the gold in her eyes fading, morphing a dull, unfocused emptiness. Her face was torn up. Her body was torn flesh and darkening bruises. Her skin was rapidly losing color. Scarlet red blood soaked into his clothes.

“H… Hey… Jungkook…?”

He sank to the floor, vision blurring as tears blinded him. Her body was so, so heavy, but Jungkook held on desperately, unable to let go.

“I… I won…”

A hollow gasp shook against the stone.

He raised his head to see the bloodied body of a large, muscular, older man with pale skin and long, sweeping black hair drenched in red. His pointed black ears were saturated in blood. His haggard face was etched with deep scars along with the fresh gashes. His once built arms were clumps of pulverized meat at best. His eyes still shone gold, but a true pearlescent tone, similar to the rays of the moonlight.

“Pup…”

Behind him, he heard sirens and the trampling of footsteps racing towards them.

The dying man sprawled onto the floor remained regal, making eye contact with Jungkook as he spoke.

“Take care of my daughter, will you?”

The nation held their breath, human and Dire combined.

Everything hurt.

Everything hurt so fucking bad.

Before your vision blurred once more, you spotted a clump of greasy ash blond hair by your left side.

Every day afterward was difficult.

He hated this form. It was demeaning. Despite that, he was well aware that it was much easier for medical staff to treat him in this form. He was still hulking and unnaturally heavy but still lighter than his wolf form. His weight did not become his problem until physical therapy began. Fuck. A member of his human security guard, Kim Mingyu, worked as his liaison between medical staff. His tall and heavily built frame made him one of the few humans that didn’t look comically small next to him. And, thankfully, he did not waste nor mince words. He was also usefully distractedly handsome, causing all of the nurses do a double take before gasping behind their hands at the towering form straining the hospital bed for all its worth. Mingyu was young, but authoritative enough. And, for some reason, the young man physically aided the nurses without being asked.

Very strange.

He didn’t dwell on it.

The blessing of the moon resulted in an accelerated recovery, but his arms had almost been shredded by the battle. He did not ask for more. Instead, he silently seethed under a blank mask of indifference. He once caught a nurse attempting to touch one of his pointed black ears. He shot her a look and she threw herself out of the room, muttering apologies. Physical therapy was not better. The male therapist was too transfixed by his black bushy tail. He thought about requesting another one, but at this point he resolved to simply regain his strength once more so he could get out of these sterile walls.

It was Mingyu who had bought the boy to the castle.

“I sincerely apologize. When I arrived on the scene, I was assigned to restrain him. He was very emotional. He broke free and attempted to carjack the vehicle I arrived in. I advised him to stay back. He threatened to break my window. It was a hasty decision on my part. I tried to make the best judgement I could, Alpha.”

His only response was an impassive grunt.

“I appreciate your generous understanding.”

He didn’t. However, he could not deny that the kid had guts. He could also not deny that their arrival was quite timely. A stroke of luck despite the circumstances. Mingyu had told him his name. The Alpha knew it now.

He just didn’t care.

He could not strangle him for laying hands on his daughter with the current state of his arms.

A task for a later time, then.

The Alpha had one request, and that was for his sleeping daughter to be placed in the room next to his.

When he was alone, he was no longer able to hide behind his misplaced anger.

When he was alone, he silently wept. Looking to the moon for guidance. Praying for her mother to forgive him for what he had done to their daughter. His silver wolf was not here, because of him. His daughter was fighting for her life in her sleep, because of him. He was a failure to the two he loved most. His body was in so much pain and it was nothing compared to the thought of knowing very well that he might come out of this alone. He worked to make his body stronger, and yet.

What was his worth as a leader if he failed as a husband and a father too?

In nightmares, you fought.

You fought your inner wolf. You fought until you bled, until the sound of broken bones, until your entwined souls howled in suffering, until memories were nothing but rivers and rivers of blood. Blood, and night. Endless darkness threatened to swallow you. You fought against that too, swimming against a reckless tide, chasing flashes of blinding fluorescent light. Sounds were muffled and distorted in this void. You swore you could hear something, but you didn’t know what they meant. Soft cries by your bedside. Words. A voice called your name, but every time you reached out to it, it slipped between your fingertips like disintegrating petals that disappeared into blackness.

Above you, a silver wolf hovered, scolding you that it was not yet your time.

An unnatural silence.

Screams of pain.

Someone was holding you, moving your limbs. Lifting your body. Fleeting whispers, hoping for no bed sores. The darkness swallowed you up again. You struggled through the sluggish murk without knowing why. It weighed down on you. A shaking breath pierced your lungs, but something foreign and plastic was shoved down your throat. You drowned again. This time, brutish claws gripped around your forearm and pulled you up.

A silver wolf.

No.

A silver wolf with black-tipped fur and a crescent moon-shaped pattern of white on its back.

The wolf stared at you, standing on a pool of black water.

You stared back, unsure what to say. Opened your mouth. Not a word came out.

The wolf lowered onto her hunches, preparing to strike.

Your purpose.

If you do not remain true to yourself, you no longer serve your purpose.

Your purpose. Not a demand pushed onto you by the elders. Not an accusation from the frightened. Not a direct order from the big black wolf. No. The big black wolf stood by you despite disapproving of your lofty ideals and silly dreams. You learned the world could not, no, should not be molded to your liking as you observed the humans.

Then, what was your purpose?

One percent.

To make this shared world a place worth living, one percent at a time.

You couldn’t change it all. Yet one percent seemed so attainable. If, somehow, you convince a few to work towards making this world one percent better, then maybe they could convince a few on their own. It was hopeless, perhaps. The silver wolf growled. Hopeless didn’t mean impossible. At least one person believed in you. Soft, ash blond hair. An encouraging smile with big white teeth. Dark brown eyes that crinkled every time he laughed, wrapping his strong arms around you.

You opened your eyes.

The bright fluorescent light stabbed your retinas.

You squinted, highly displeased.

Your vision slowly unblurred. An unknown intuition told you that you were mostly in one piece. You couldn’t quite feel it yet. Your limbs were that of a blown-over scarecrow. There was a blanket above your shivering body. And paper. Papers, plural. You squinted harder, trying to make sense of the characters. They were printed-out news articles. Many of them, scattered over you. And a clump of ash blond hair connected to hunched shoulders. A pallid, tattooed hand loosely over one of your rather thin ones. It must have been your hand, because it was clearly attached to your body, but your mind was having trouble connecting the dots. You tried to breathe and half-choked on a plastic tube jammed down your throat.

You wheezed.

Jeon Jungkook shot off the hospital bed.

You clearly read one of the headlines of the articles on the bed. It was dated years and years ago. A rising pins-and-needles sensation was beginning to ravage your half-awake body. You heard clattering and the faraway noise of nurses rushing into the room, rapidly speaking to each other, but all you could feel was a deep, deep sadness.

Your eyes raised.

You could not tap your heart twice, so you imagined the motion, remembering the arrowhead pendant your father wore around his neck, and looked to the moon, asking for its guidance, hoping she could forgive you for what you had done. You wanted to cry, but your tear ducts had not been in use for so long that nothing came out.

Thankfully, someone had the decency to let you know you had not killed your father.

Jeon Jungkook stood by a bowing hospital bed that was struggling to contain the hulking mass of a man still heavily bandaged with various tubes hanging out of him. Despite his appearance, the black-haired man was alert and breathing for himself. He had piercing, pearly gold eyes, big hands covered in scars, and an expression that could kill all lesser creatures.

At the moment, Jungkook was feeling like a lesser creature.

He had done nothing for endless days but go to work and then immediately come to the hospital to lay by her beside. Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung did their best to bring him food, changes in clothing, and even ask to change shifts so Jungkook could sleep in his own bed, but he refused. His previous security guard then became busy with police investigations. Time fused together. Hours to days to weeks to months, he stayed by her side. Brushing her soft silvery black-tipped fur every day. Helping the nurses lift her up. Learning to massage her muscles and move her limbs to avoid joint stiffness and bed sores. Living for any sign of her waking up.

His moon did wake up.

She did, and then was immediately dragged back into unresponsive slumber. It was a good sign, the doctors said. Her body was healing well too. She was no typical coma patient. Whatever was keeping her eyes closed was had nothing to do with biology. Jungkook didn’t know anything about the moon, prayers, or any god, but he wished on all of them to bring her back to him.

The Alpha had summoned him, specifically.

They stood in silence, with the Alpha in his human form facing him with a blank face and gold eyes gleaming with murder. Age had only made him more dangerous. He was naturally an intimidating man and did not try to mask it. The resemblance was uncanny despite his daughter taking after her mother in general appearance. The shape of their eyes was the same. Although the Alpha had jet-black fur and larger ears, they had the same curvature as hers. The shape and taper of their tails was similar as well.

“Pup.”

Jungkook straightened even more, trying not to squeak. Her father had a gruff, grating voice even in human form. Maybe it was the stress. Probably not. The Alpha was likely perpetually grumpy.

“I don’t like you.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say to that so he just kept his mouth shut. Those predator eyes narrowed.

Then, the Alpha let out a heavy exhale.

“Take the folder on the visitor’s chair. Read it.”

Jungkook craned his head to his left to see a dark blue folder crammed with papers.

“I don’t have to like you for you to be a good man.”

He turned back and those pearly gold eyes seemed tired in that stern, lined face. There was surely something more animal than human radiating from him. And yet. The Dire Alpha raised his head and the action prompted Jungkook to do the same. He did not feel particularly strong, standing next to the heavily injured leader of the Dire, but the look the older man was giving him made him feel strong for some reason.

“In due time, you may find yourself in a position you feel unqualified for, pup. But even the most educated are all living life for the first time. Do not lose that person that she has believed in to this day.”

Feeling a tightness in his chest, Jungkook nodded.

He walked over to the folder and picked it up. He hadn’t said anything this entire time. There wasn’t much to say. But, before he left, he stood by the door and turned back. The Alpha had not hunched over. He remained upright, regal, tracking his movement.

“Will she wake up?” Jungkook asked quietly.

The leader became the father.

“She will.”

The tension in his shoulders subsided.

“I would get that hair of yours touched up so she has something nice to look at.”

Ouch.

“Y-Yes, Alpha.”

It had been a long time since you had seen your father in human form.

“Are you supposed to be standing?”

Your father looked even stranger in a hospital gown that didn’t quite fit. Someone had draped a silver robe over his big shoulders. The same person probably had brushed his long jet-black hair and tied it into a simple ponytail at the base of his neck. His tall, triangular ears were glossy black. Pearly gold eyes gazed down at you. He was attached to a metal pole with a hanging IV bag.

“No.”

A tall, large man stood in the shadow of the door. He had shorter, swept-back black hair, sharp dark eyes, and a tan complexion. He wore a white dress shirt, slim black tie, and black slacks. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. You recognized his identification tag. RJ's Private Security Services. He must have been assigned to your father. He noticed you watching him, and bowed respectfully in return.

You glanced at your father.

He didn’t react.

The Alpha’s arms were heavily bandaged, all the way up to his shoulders. You looked back to the bodyguard.

He offered a small, knowing smile.

Your eyes went back to pearly gold ones. He offered nothing. You tried to suppress your own smile, and failed. Your father continued to act like the silent comprehension was not happening on his watch. You breathed in. It hurt. The Alpha noticed, internal pain darkening his expression.

“I’m sorry, Father.”

His gruff voice softened. “Do not apologize.”

You looked down at your bedridden, battered body. “I…” Your voice was raspy and thin from the prolonged use of an endotracheal tube. “I tried to fight it. If I was stronger…”

“You were poisoned. Poison is not generally something anywolf can fight off, pup.”

You remained silent, fighting back tears.

“The culprits were attempting to mimic the substance used on your mother. A drug to induce forced transformation among Dires. Their operation was to introduce Dires of low socioeconomic status to recreational hard drugs, capture them once dependent, and use them as their experimental subjects. We still do not know if the transformation is meant to be permanent or at will. We also do not know what they intended to do with such a drug, but all options seem unpleasant. The authorities have informed me that they estimate about seventy-percent of their operation has been shut down. They are working on the rest.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Low socioeconomic status… That is most of the Dires who have chosen to integrate with human society.”

There was a heavy pause.

“Yes, pup. It is.”

You felt a pang of regret. The realization sank in. “They targeted me on purpose. Because…”

“You would pose as a formidable threat,” your father agreed. “Your status among the people is also key. The result would be political chaos. Riots, protests, an uproar among humans to exile the Dire. It is not lost on me that this fringe group seems to want a repeat of the situation with your mother. At that time, we were spared by chance due to there being victims on both sides.”

Neither of you could bear to look at the other.

It hurt too much.

“And… And my lack of hesitation for executing the threat.”

You gripped the flimsy hospital blanket. This was all your fault. If only you had stayed away from the humans. If only you hadn’t tried to help them during full moon nights. If only you kept it in your damn pants.

“They would not have had access to me if I had stayed in the castle. If I–”

“Do not apologize for living your life, Daughter,” the Alpha sternly reprimanded. “Do not let strangers turn you bitter to your true self.”

“You almost died!”

You tried to shout back but your voice couldn’t withstand the outburst. It cracked with emotion, and for a brief moment you were simply a wounded puppy arguing with the impenetrable authority of your wolf father. And then the lines on his face, aging and scars, silenced you.

The Alpha looked tired.

He spent his entire life displaying his strength. Deep inside, you believed that he would live forever. He lived up to the illusion that he would, until he couldn’t. You stared into those pearl gold eyes, and knew. He had never said it. You had always known that he had silently placed all the blame on himself. But he also made sure that you would never feel the pain of losing another parent. He did everything, even now, to preserve that belief. The Alpha knew he would die one day. But he did not remind you.

He couldn’t bear to do so.

Silence.

Then, your father continued in a gentler tone. “Your appearance changed their original plan, it seems. There were many references to a much larger operation in the works. Multiple Berserkers attacking multiple cities. But the drug had not be perfected yet. A few of the members had decided on their own to expedite the prototype while your guard was still down. They hastily took their first opportunity. I believe they were aiming for many causalities,” he added. The corner of his lips raised lightly. “They did not expect you to come home.”

You slumped back into the raised hospital bed. “I don’t know why I did, honestly.”

“Your unconscious choice saved us all.”

You frowned and couldn’t help but quip back, “I don’t feel very saved, Father.”

He smiled.

You could not describe the amount of safety you felt upon seeing your father’s smile in human form.

He leaned down with a lot of effort and place his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“My daughter,” he murmured, his deep voice straining. “Please do not forgot that who you have chosen to become has saved many lives, both human and Dire.”

You closed your eyes, too, trying your best to hold the tears in.

“I am proud of you,” your father said. “So very proud.”

The Dire Alpha was a big man. A towering wolf. A leader to everyone’s eyes. In this moment, he was a father comforting his child in the Dire way, forehead to forehead, calling to the heart as the moon watched from high above. You wanted to hug him, but it was impossible at the moment. Your father would likely not appreciate it at all. He also couldn’t stop you either. You would do so eventually.

At the moment, though.

He grimaced. Suddenly, you felt another presence. The guard had stepped up to the bed and gently straightened your father, hoisting him up with more ease than most. His ID swayed as he bent over, and you caught the name. The Alpha shot him a displeased look. The man didn’t flinch or shake his head.

You said it for your father. “Thank you, Kim Mingyu.”

The young man looked startled despite his intimidating frame. He bowed again in apology. “Just doing my job.”

“Against my father’s will, I’m sure.”

Mingyu was trying not to laugh. “I am doing my best to make sure the Alpha is well taken care of.”

Said big bad leader was curling his lip in mute distaste. You couldn’t resist to annoy a little bit more. “Please do. This is the most groomed I’ve seen my father in years. You must tell me what products you’re using on his skin.”

“Ah, it’s a brand called L'Occitane–”

The Alpha growled.

Both you and Mingyu shut up immediately.

You could feel the violent irritation radiating off your father.

“I will escort him back to his room,” Mingyu hurriedly coughed.

“I’ll try to visit you soon when I can, Father.”

He barked back, “Don’t.” You weren’t going to listen, of course.

“Uh, hi.”

The taller man in a dark blue sweater and mid-wash jeans nodded to him. “Good evening.”

Jungkook frowned and patiently waited for the stranger to finish his selection. An unsweetened green tea and a Coke Zero. Weird combination. The other man bent over to pick up the drinks from the vending machine. He had broad, built shoulders that were obvious even through the sweater.

“Er.” Jungkook cleared his throat. “This might be a weird question but I, uh, been seeing you around here lately.”

The stranger in the blue sweater straightened and looked down at him.

It was late at night. The two men were standing in the snack area next to the currently closed hospital cafeteria. There were a few staff walking past them, but most visitors had largely gone home. And a hospital wasn’t exactly, um, socialization central. The taller one tilted his head.

“Are you hitting on me?”

Disgust immediately overtook Jungkook’s expression. “Ew. No. I’m not.”

The tall man blinked in puppy-like confusion. He had black hair mostly swept back, matching dark eyes, and sun-kissed skin. He stuck out like a sore thumb due to his height and striking muscular frame that bordered on bodybuilder. Unlikely to be fashion muscles, though.

“I’m only asking because I’ve seen you in a suit during the day,” Jungkook muttered, walking past to puzzled man in a fluster, punching for a simple hot coffee. He tapped his card against the reader. “But sometimes you come at night dressed in normal clothes.”

“I’m off the clock.”

The machine made a strange hiccupping noise. Jungkook looked down at the opening. Nothing. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Seriously? He pressed the hot coffee button again with twice as much anger. The vending machine crossly beeped back, demanding him to scan his card again. Then the machine lurched and there was a loud clanging.

A can of hot coffee tumbled down into receiving area.

Jungkook’s eyes shifted.

The stranger backed up from the side of the vending machine with a shrug. “Happens sometimes.”

“T… Thanks.” I guess.

“I’m surprised you’ve only now noticed.”

He cracked open the can of coffee and began to chug it down. Fuck, he needed that. “Huh?”

The big man tucked the canned tea into his elbow, holding the Coke Zero in in his left hand. He pointed to Jungkook with his right. Okay, that was slightly rude. “You’re the Alpha daughter’s boyfriend.”

Apparently, word had gotten around. A sting of irritation prickled through him. “She didn’t do anything wrong. She was poisoned. I was there. Do you want proof?”

The stranger scratched his head with a half-pout. “Hm? I know.” He had a deep voice but there was a hint of childishness to it. Maybe he was younger than he looked. “I was the one who prepared the reports and news articles for you to read.”

Now Jungkook was the one who was confused. “Wha?”

The large hand extended out to him. “My name is Kim Mingyu. I’ve been assigned to protect the Alpha during his stay here.”

He stared at the other guy. This suddenly became awkward. “Jeon… Jeon Jungkook.” He hesitantly reached out. It was a firm handshake. He straightened up a bit so as to not appear as tired as he felt. The Mingyu guy looked like he was full of energy. Then it clicked. Oh. Wasn’t this the guy I was yelling at that night? Jungkook winced. Mingyu smiled faintly as he caught on. Shit. “Um… I think I threatened you… some time ago.”

“You did.” The Coke Zero was clicked open with a single finger flick. “You were beside yourself at the time. No hard feelings.”

Jungkook puffed out a cheek. “I should be the one saying that.”

His gulps were rather impressive. The soda can lowered. The other man let out a relieved sigh.

“If you’re off the clock, then why are you here?”

Those dark eyes raised. There was a reluctant pause. And then Mingyu said, “Typically family stay bedside to offer extra luxuries and a sense of normalcy. His only living family is in the hospital right now. He ordered his servants to stay home. The Alpha does not like to feel crowded.”

He calmly explained but Jungkook felt as if Mingyu stabbed him.

He hung his head. Well, he was certainly making some type of impression to his future father-in-law, although it was doubtful that his presence would offer any type of comfort. Still, some random guy was doing more for the Alpha than he was. Even Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung were handling the investigation behind the scenes. His lips parted, trying to think of a way to defend himself, but nothing came out. He felt a tap on his shoulder. The contact prompted Jungkook to raise his gaze.

“I see you’ve finally gone to the hair salon,” Mingyu chuckled lightheartedly. “You no longer look like an abandoned trumpet.”

Jungkook squinted, unsure if it was an insult or a compliment. He decided to change the subject instead. “Does the Alpha consider you a friend?”

“I doubt it.” A bit of roguish amusement danced over Mingyu’s strong features. “He’s pretty grumpy most of the time. But it’s hard for me to do nothing when I know I am capable.” He chuckled. “I don’t know. I guess he hasn’t really done anything too terribly good for us humans, yet…” There was a faraway look in his dark eyes. The silence dragged for a little before he continued. “He is someone’s father. And one day, if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll be a dad too, so I hope that when the day comes that if I too need help, someone who barely knows me tries their best to help me, you know? Plus, I’m one of the few people that can lift him by myself, heh.”

Jungkook clutched his can of hot coffee and felt slightly ashamed.

“Yeah…”

They stood in the hall, leisurely sipping their drinks.

“Um.”

Mingyu turned his head to glance at him.

“What’s your workout routine?” Jungkook asked. “I’ve been trying to get stronger.”

You made a sour face and mumbled, “Walking sucks.”

Jungkook’s arm steadied your waist. “The nurses said it might be painful for a while.”

He was warm. You willed your limbs to move. They responded sluggishly. You felt like a newborn pup who had just discovered walking. Your right leg especially had a limp. At least your chest hurt less. Sweat broke out over your shoulders as you shuffled in the hospital courtyard, leaning against Jungkook. He was solid and patient, gently encouraging you one step at a time. Moonlight streamed down. There was no one out at this hour when you felt the strongest.

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I slept a little before I came over.”

You tugged them to a nearby bench. Sitting down felt too good. Ugh. “You don’t need to visit every day,” you chided.

“Yes, I do,” he argued back, not accepting your suggestion.

The worst part was that you didn’t have the energy to fight him. You wished to feel better sooner rather than later. A sigh rattled through your ribs as you stared up to the waning beacon of the night sky. You knew he knew now.

“It might be better if you returned to your simple life, Jungkook.”

He rubbed your shoulder. “You know I can’t do that.”

You had to try and talk some sense into him. “Maybe find yourself a girlfriend who isn’t in danger of being poisoned by crazy people.”

“Or maybe crazy people should stop trying to poison my girlfriend,” he grumbled. “I think the investigation is going well, at least. Taehyung tries to update me when he can, even if I don’t really understand.”

You felt his fingertips brush your ear. You sighed, defeated. It was an impossible task, anyway. “I told you not to follow me. That was very stupid of you.”

He smoothed your fur. “In my defense, I wasn’t trying to follow you. I just thought… I thought your dad would know what to do. Or maybe… Maybe I wanted him to know right away.” Jungkook sighed and buried his face in your hair. “I was selfish. I was scared. He’s the strongest Dire wolf, isn’t he? I could wait for the police, but what could they do in a situation like that…? I had to take the chance.”

You gazed at the moon as Jungkook held you for your comfort and his.

“I ran to him too,” you whispered softly. “All of me ran to Father, praying he could save me.”

You closed your eyes.

Your body was healing and yet guilt hurt more than any physical pain.

“I almost killed him.”

Droplets squeezed from your lashes, sliding down your face. They felt cold and horrible and necessary.

“And I realized I had felt only… Only a fraction of what he did when he was forced to kill Mother.”

Your entire body shuddered. Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, not too tightly, but tight enough, and you felt wetness by your neck, soaking into the collar of your hospital gown. Your head bowed against his as the quiet sobs ebbed and flowed. You missed Mother even though she was only a distant memory now. You wished she could have watched you grow up. You wished you could have watched her grow old. You wished you could have introduced Jungkook to her and maybe gotten her on your side before chancing the meeting with your big bad wolf of a father. You almost laughed at the absurdity of the what-if, but you were too overcome with sniffles to do so.

“I... I w-wouldn’t know what t-to do… If I lost you…”

He shuddered against your ear and kissed the side of your head fiercely.

“My moon…”

You, too, wouldn’t know how to shine without your sun.

You cried in Jungkook’s warm embrace.

The Alpha was fascinated by the weighted hand grip strengthener Kim Mingyu provided him. He was slowly but surely returning to gradual use of his arms again. The daily physical therapy focused on regaining his mobility and flexibility. His hands, of course, had suffered. Broken bones, torn muscle, and atrophy from lack of use. His grip was not as it was, which was difficult for him to admit. The young man had noticed. The Alpha was not going to take it, as he did not enjoy charity, but it was too intriguing to resist the little object.

And so, the old wolf man sat on the hospital bed, distracted by the small exercise tool as the human named Mingyu brushed his tail.

Most assumed the Dire Alpha had an entire crew for personal grooming, but he did not. He found such processes patronizing. He was not a domesticated dog. He cleaned himself and did a fine job of it. When this freedom was taken from him, he did not want to cooperate with the hospital staff, and only did so when he realized it was impossible to bathe himself on his own. The nurses were efficient, sterile, and quick. But it was Mingyu that came by after his daily shift with additional products. At first, the Alpha was very annoyed by this, until the young man asked, somewhat hesitatingly, if he would like his long black hair properly washed.

The Alpha was taken aback by this.

“Do as you like.”

The old wolf had to admit he found it to be – mildly – enjoyable.

Not that enjoyable.

Mildly.

Hiring a personal bodyguard was not necessary as the hospital had its own security. However, it was better to be safe than sorry. And, again, the Alpha despised multiple staff crowding around him simply to maneuver his body. He would rather have one very strong, well-trained aide. Such a person would only be needed during the day, as that was when the majority of medical tasks would be performed. Dires were also generally more alert at night due to the moon’s influence. Night security patrolling the halls of the hospital was safe enough. Therefore, it was unnecessary and unpaid for Kim Mingyu to be here.

He just was.

The Alpha did not have the energy to chase him away, anyway.

He switched to his left hand with a pained grunt and continued his reps as Mingyu stood up and removed the excess loose fur from the brush. They did not have deep conversations. In fact, they rarely spoke to each other at all. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mingyu replace the pillowcase on the specialty pillow he had bought him a few weeks ago. Hospitals were not exactly hotels.

What a strange young man.

Mingyu held out the green tea he had purchased earlier, a white straw sticking out of the can opening.

The two males did not look at each other as the Alpha drank half of it in one go.

It was not accurate to ask if the human was looking down on him. None of these simple tasks held the air of one holier than thou. Nor did this feel like pity. There wasn’t any unpleasant invasion of his personal space or privacy either.

It felt like having a son.

Some Dire, like humans, very much cared about having male offspring. There was a time the Alpha was like that too, but after the loss of his wife, he completely abandoned such thoughts. In fact, he discovered an immeasurable pride in training his daughter to be the best fighter in the pack other than himself. And so, he did not care much for a son nor think about it, until this awkward untold relationship had begun to develop between him and this random security guard.

The Alpha did not think he was a very lucky dog.

Maybe karma was overdue.

“You should go home and get some sleep.”

Mingyu was folding the blanket he had brought last week and exchanging it for the same one of a different color. Extra large to accommodate his bigger frame. “If I wanted to get some actual sleep, I would be more successful here than at home.” He seemed both amused and annoyed. “My roommate plays video games at night. He’s an online streamer.”

The wolf leader could only guess what that meant.

“It’s better for him to broadcast at night since most people work during the day.”

Well. That was logical, at least. He rested the gripping device by his knee. Mingyu wordlessly offered to place it on the table by the bed for easy access. The Alpha handed it to him without objection. The human massaged his hands. It was odd but not despicable. The increased blood flow helped his tired muscles relax after using them.

“What do you get out of this?”

Most times, the Alpha would add human after such questions. It was a subtle sign of his eternal loathing of humanity. By no means did this interaction with one change his general distaste for them. He still mostly hated them.

He simply hated this one a little less.

Mingyu worked up to the wrists. They didn’t make eye contact. He spoke frankly.

“If I can do it and it’s the right thing to do, I will.”

They let the conversation die. The massage pivoted to key joints that released tension. Afterward, Mingyu produced an electronic reader and prepared the stand on the overhanging surface of the hospital bed so it was mostly hands-free. The Alpha had learned much about scientific advances, as he believed it was important to understand how the human world was changing. However, technology was not a daily part of castle life. Moreover, he was not a wolf with the patience to sit and read a book. Mingyu explained how to use it.

“When my dad was recovering from a back injury, he liked this better than watching television. I asked him for a few recommendations, but I think he went on a bit of a download splurge. Hopefully something in here interests you.”

A fascinating device. The Alpha did not hear Mingyu leave for the night.

Day by day, Jungkook witnessed her resilience and fell in love with her a little more.

If he was honest, it was a confliction of emotions. As he watched her recover, he felt the strain of his own mortality a little more. Being human seemed like an imprisonment compared to the strength of the Dire. She was now walking with barely a limp, unaided, the effort only obvious by the bite of her lower lip, and Jungkook was acutely aware that he would have never survived what she did. Yet there was this sense of overwhelming pride that overcame those unwelcome feelings. He held onto it, hoping that it was how he truly felt.

When his moon stumbled, Jungkook always steadied her.

He would feel her breath against his cheek.

And when she looked at him, he forgot all of his insecurities.

She scolded him lightly yet again. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you in bed with me.”

“Don’t lie.”

He would stubbornly tuck himself in the blanket and glare from the armchair until she laughed, admitting defeat. One of those nights, she admitted the heavy truth.

“I thought about letting the darkness take me.”

“What…?”

Her silvery ears tipped down guiltily. “I don’t know… I don’t know how I will live up to a legacy far beyond me,” she sighed, holding onto the blanket tightly. Her eyes cast down. “But I couldn’t do it. Not after…” When she finally looked back to him, he swore the gold flecks in her eyes sparkled. “How could I give up when you didn’t give up on me? Even after I told you not to.”

“How could I give up?”

Before Jungkook knew it, he was out of the chair and cupping her hands. His eyes stung. He did not want to cry.

“I’m so weak.”

She petted his palms soothingly. “You’re not–”

“I am.” He hung his head, wrapping his fingers around hers. “Don’t lie. I couldn’t survive what you did.”

Frustration laced into her expression. “It’s not the same. You cannot compare us like that.”

“The only reason I didn’t die from that poison is because it wasn’t made for my species,” he cut in, staring into those gold-flecked eyes that knew much better than he did. “And, despite all that pain and the literal attempt to hijack your sanity, you still managed to go to the one place where you had a chance. You didn’t hurt a single person along the way. You managed to fight it off.” He shook her hands a little, quickly stopping as she winced. “I’m just a guy. Just a guy who really, really loves you. You’re right. It is not the same, you’re right.” Despite his best efforts, Jungkook was getting choked up. “I know it wasn’t only me that made you fight so hard.”

He pulled a hand out to place it over his racing heartbeat. And then he turned his wrist to place it over hers. Her eyes widened as he spoke.

“You are fighting for our future. Humans and Dires,” Jungkook breathed out.

He believed it too, with his entire being.

“Your purpose will lead you to become a legend.”

She blinked at him. “Did you hit your head?”

Jungkook drew back, confused. “What?”

But then her hand raised. Slowly. Cradled his cheek, drawing him back down.

“I don’t want to do any of it without you.”

He let out a sheepish chuckle. “I think I’ll be too busy spending the rest of my life paying off this hospital bill…”

She tilted her head. “What are you talking about? The Alpha is the primary shareholder of this hospital.”

He was mid-laugh when her words hit him. “Wait, what?”

Her hand lowered from his face to touch her cheek. “Uh, isn’t it obvious? When the Dire began living among humans, our people were unable to find adequate healthcare out here.” She was speaking as if the city was the boonies. “They would have to return to the forest, which is not acceptable if it was an emergency. Once my father caught wind of it, he worked to find ways to provide accessible health centers for the Dire. But, ah, as expected, the pack doesn’t like the idea much. Try to keep that information to yourself. Don’t worry about the money, though. I’m sure the hospital will care of it.”

A muscle in Jungkook’s eyebrow twitched. “Rich people…”

“I can hear your mumblings, you know.”

“I know you can.” He stuck his tongue out. “Good luck punishing me.”

She grinned wolfishly.

“Good idea. I’ll keep a mental tally.”

“Isn’t it wonderful to be discharged together, Father?”

The Alpha grunted.

Her mate was standing next to his daughter trying not to look at him. She looked almost her usual bright, silvery self. Up until this day, the Alpha had remained in his human form. He was finally out of his hospital gown and into the loose robes of the Dire. She, too, was wrapped in silver. With a glance, one could tell her right calf would never look the same. He felt his shoulders lower. Then he felt a tap on his loosely bandaged upper arm. The Alpha’s eyes darted to his daughter’s soft smile.

Two survivors in battle.

She grinned when she had his attention. He spared her his faint smile that he gave no one else.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked.

All three turned to stare at Kim Mingyu, who was standing behind the Dire leader and scratching the back of his head. The tanned, muscular man was in a white tank top and blue track pants, holding a black duffel bag.

“Ah…”

Mingyu pointed to Jungkook.

The ash blonde pointed back at him.

“We were… We were going to work out.”

His daughter looked confused. “Since when are you two friends?” She sent her father a confused look. The Alpha shrugged and continued to look disinterested. She caught Mingyu’s expression of concern towards them. The big stoic man did not grant any further explanation.

“Uh huh…”

She was going to pester him about it. The Alpha was not looking forward to that interrogation.

“Father.”

He looked down, and for a fleeting, beautiful moment, she looked just like her mother with her teasing expression and lust for life.

“Let’s run.”

The grind of bone-on-bone.

For a moment, there was a skipped heartbeat of hesitation. The memory of their last transformation haunting them. A torrent of jet-black fur. A whirlwind of silver tipped in black, complete with the white crescent waterfalling down her back. The bright moon gleamed overhead, awaiting them. The fear was replaced by exhilaration. Instinct that refused to be suppressed. From two legs to four paws, in sweeping strides that sped past passerby in howling wind, they ran side by side as father and daughter. Free.

Two wolves, as they were meant to be.

The two men watched them run amongst unraveled silver. Even fellow nurses and doctors had stepped out to witness the beauty of nature at work. No one said anything, too in awe of who and what the witnessed. The two blurs became one with the dark night, enthusiastic barks melding into the sound of the wind. Triumphant, alive, and joyful.

Then Jungkook smacked the back of Mingyu’s head. He had to reach up. Annoying.

“Ow!”

“You better have not been staring at her when her clothes came off.”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“I saw your head shift.”

“You’re delusional. And that makes you the weird one, staring at me instead of your girlfriend,” Mingyu pointed out, massaging his new sore spot.

“Grrr.”

“So scary. Not.”

He ran before Jungkook could strike him again. Might as well start the workout with some cardio.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

57 notes · View notes

catiuskaa · 1 year

Text

G’day fellas, it’s Kats! —the Masterlist.

Any kind of requests are (eventually) answered and appreciated!

random prompt list (mainly for requests but feel free to use it and tag me on your own works!)

OT8 SERIES // POLY!SKZ

—[series] summertime’s special!

a summer-inspired collab with my pookie @dalamjisung! non-conected one-shots [in between each of ‘em]. lots of fluff and sunshine included!

—[one-shot] white-collared thieves (smut)

gentlemen like them make for a better boyfriend, and minho and han will let you know as soon as you come over… they know first times pave the way for more. [minsung x reader]

—[one-shot] reggaeton & champagne (nsfw)

you knew better than to go down to the club alone, and that guy should’ve known better than to mess with minho and chan’s property. (minho x chan x reader)

—[drabble] seungmo, mimo, siesta. (fluff)

mimo (span.) attitude or state of a person who wants to be pampered and cuddled. [2min x reader]

—[drabble] feat. mrs. lee bahng (smut)

why have a plot when your two gorgeous boys are finally having a short break before the comeback? y’all already know what to do. [minchan x reader]

—[one-shot] i’m trying, but they’re hot! —lifeguards!skz

minho and felix agree to go with you to your usual fitness center, which recently opened a swimming pool facility! (and they've hired a certain group of lifeguards... oh wow...)

—[series] bf!thoughts (fluff):

bangchan: music to my ears.

being chan’s partner makes music sound so much better, but not coming close to the sound of his laughs. ♡

minho: sway with me.

as minho’s partner, you know he loves dancing, and he loves dancing with you. He won’t say it often, but you both know he loves you even more. ♡

changbin: my favourite.

changbin won’t hesitate to pamper his partner with reasurance and love, because, above it all, his favourite thing will always be you. ♡

hyunjin: out of the blue.

poor hyunjin is so frustrated with artblock. nothing comes out like he sees it! little does he know, his cute muses are right in front of him. ♡

jisung: ticklish, cold water nights.

hannie can be a bit of a meanie if it’s late enough, but he loves you so much, he has to make sure you drink enough water too. ♡

felix: rice pudding!

felix wants to cook on live. who if not you to help? it’s mainly so he doesn’t burn anything—like himself—, but it still makes him feel warm and fluffy inside. ♡

seungmin: clingy denials.

seungmin claims he isn’t clingy. recent events while shopping prove to be a little bit… trickier… for him. not his fault though. You are the one who looks too good! ♡

jeongin: bread bites.

innie isn’t much of a skinship person, but it’s because of you that he has found out a new way of showing how much he loves you. ♡

BANGCHAN:

My Atlantis [We fall] (angst) [good ending!]

you’ve hurt yourself due to his career as an idol, because the media won’t let you be. Still, despite his tries to ‘protect you’, you both have spent the worst month in a long while and neither of you want to continue knowing that you could have tried again.

Level up: Fencing for Dummies. (fluff)

soulmates don’t exist, but why are all these corny memories suddenly in your head, and why is your rival the main character?

you asked me to stay. [Not yet]. (fluff, nsfw)

even if idols 'don’t date fans', there are no rules against a little bit of teasing, and so it happens that Mr Bang Chan here really likes your kind of thinking.

audio creak file.mp3 [1:07] (nsfw)

Chan struggles to make music, and you, his friend and roommate, try to help him when you can. Say, Chan also struggles to keep his cool whenever you’re near… what will you do to help him feel better?

MINHO:

pink in the night. (angst)

he knows it means leaving you at night with your hoodie on, but minho has to say goodbye one last time, even if nothing is fair.

game on, game boy. (fluff)

dating someone from the opposing team is banned? So what? Minho isn’t dating that cute girl with the purple headset, they clearly hate each other! …wait, what? You never said it was her? O-oh… um, well…

had to make sure you'd catch it. (fluff)

no one expected jeongin to be the first to marry in the group, but furthermore, no one expected minho to be the one to ask you first, and certainly not like that.

missed me, missed me, now you gotta… (fluff)

minho wasn’t grumpy, nor he was jealous. but he hasn’t been the same ever since he fell in love with you.

need you to [Lee] Know (fluff)

minho loves you: to him, it’s as clear as water. Its only after he finds out that you’re starting to doubt it—he needs you to know just how much.

I.O.U. [pinky promise] (fluff)

minho’s fear of heights is not alone, because airplanes are also in the equation. but rest assured, lovely strangers like yourself are there to help him.

Shirts, hoodies and pyjamas (fluff)

every member knows that Minho’s attitude towards you is kinda mean. Will an impulsive idea change your situation?

shoot on sight [straight through my heart] (smut)

a laser tag encounter will end any truce you could’ve started with minho. And of course, after that kiss…

CHANGBIN:

under the weather (fluff)

is that a sneeze what he’s hearing? unnaceptable! changbin will take care of his sick little bunny... no chance of escaping.

my knight in comforting armour (fluff)

plane trips feel longer when you can’t use your phone. after a very chaotic encounter, it’s now obvious that playing on changbin’s phone is much more entertaining!

just hold on, darling (nsfw)

there’s a will and a way when waiting for him to log off work seems a lot… just hold on, darling.

this close to begging (smut)

an angsty tension formed out of pent-up feelings. a mix of alcohol, changbin and you might find just the way of solving it.

[these two can be read as a stand alone or together in the order written]

Yeah, Flowers Follow (fluff)

You have always been committed to your duty at your mom's flower shop since she got hurt carrying bags of dirt over a month ago. It was mostly just you and the flowers, until he barged in one day, slapped 20 bucks on the countertop and with a passive-aggressive tone, asked: "How do I say fuck you in flower?"

Floral Troubles: Tales of Love (fluff)

It’s been hard dealing with your recent love life with how busy the flower shop has been since the wedding season started, over two weeks ago. It was just you, the ribbons and greenery, until he hugged you from behind, left 20 bucks on the table and in an affectionate tone, asked: “How do I say I love you in flower?”

HYUNJIN:

charcoal, paint, post-its and tape. (comfort)

seeing your boyfriend’s messy art studio, you couldn’t help but want to try and surprise him with a painting of the most gorgeous piece of art you knew: him.

Untitled. // COMING SOON

an artist’s mind often wanders around and about. ever since Hyunjin and you collided, he's unable to come out the same.

i don’t like my mind. (angst)

there was nothing you could’ve said to him to keep hyunjin away from his thoughts. Not on the night of March 20, 2021.

[Don’t worry about Rome!] It won’t fall. (fluff) // COMING SOON

it was almost ridiculous to think you hadn’t realized it, but hey, no one expected Rome to fall.

The rain falls [the sky doesn’t] (fluff)

rain sucks. for you, to the very least, it’s a major problem. but your boyfriend knows something is wrong, and is determined to help you, because even if rain falls, the sky doesn’t.

drunk-dazed [i’m yours] (fluff)

Felix has tried to help you with your love life, but, as much as you appreciated the gesture, he kinda failed… all the time. Will the latest match with his new roommate break the streak?

horny kitchen [not hell's this time] (nsfw)

whenever you were home, he wasn’t. it wasn’t totally your fault if that had made you believe he was never home in the first place, but it sure had led into an interesting meeting.

JISUNG:

the poem about home. (hurt/comfort)

redamancy: (n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

strawberry blond. (angst)

Jisung had been avoiding the truth for the past six months, but now, it’s time to face the storm. even if it hurts.

spots on. (fluff)

you. hannie. embraces. hugs. cuddles, and other synonyms. desperately needed by yesterday. complaints will be declined and ignored.

*cough cough* no, me kisses. (fluff)

he may have lost his opportunity to ask you to become official, but boyfriend or not, there’s only one thing Hannie wants needs: your kisses. All over his face. Right now.

coach or player? (nsfw)

there’s always a time when one just has to know, but is the coach able to risk it and play their own game?

[3:36 am] 🍶 (nsfw)

A sexy meeting with an interesting someone might be exactly what you were looking for a one-night stand.

putting to good use (smut)

you had always been Jisung’s utmost supporter, his number one fan. who could blame his partner for wanting to reward all his hard effort?

FELIX:

this isn’t what friends do. (smut)

you're friends- duh! best friends are close to each other, even if this could be... too close. still, no one can really blame you! that chocolate was far too good anyways.

so effortlessly. (fluff)

felix can’t help it, and he can’t hold back anymore, because in the end, loving you comes out so effortlessly.

[these two can be read together in the order written or as standalones :)]

WikiHow’s on my back. (fluff)

Felix can't deny it anymore. WikiHow agrees, and even if he doesn't want to accept it, accidentally completing every step of the web might just clarify to him what he’s feeling.

[01:43 am] (fluff)

study buddies are always close to each other. Still, exams week is over, so when Felix shows up in your room, a silly UNO game is the go-to for clearing things up… in a meme way.

SEUNGMIN:

GTK: Grand Theft Kitty. (fluff)

seungmin streams from time to time with the boys, and today, you wanted to join in… kind of. not like he’s going to complain!

new task: valentine’s day. (fluff)

|PROLOGUE| |ACT 1| |ACT 2| |ACT 3|

boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments… to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

silly little promises. (smut)

unspoken promises to stay away from your brother’s best friend might work for some, but not when kim seungmin is said man.

I.N:

your type (fluff)

It doesn’t matter how pretty you are, because, Jeongin’s been working in that cafe long enough to notice as soon as you walked in: he knows your type.

catiuskaa, september 2024 ©

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oceantornadoo · 4 months

Text

141 character masterlist: tornado zone

simon riley

simon riley (smut):

the man next door (each post is a diff universe)

fluffy simon riley:

mafia au

gender neutral fics (simon riley)

man in charge (ceo)

the otha ones

johnny mactavish

kyle garrick

enemies to lovers drabble

john price

tired of everyone but you

pad shopping

your annoying military neighbor

sex ban (gn reader)

soulmate au (gn reader)

come back, be here

annoying neighbor part 2

quiet hours

office visit\

bad date

ghoap x reader

gazs perspective (drabble)

jealousy, jealousy

welcome home

welcome home pt 2

hockey au (just ghoap)

ts lyrics and the 141

renegade (simon riley x reader)

ttpd headcanons (any 141 member)

141 head canons

cheer me up

im right here

westeros

#tornado speaks🙊

92 notes · View notes

wardenparker · 10 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 9

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Family drama (past), revelations, family estrangement, the truth will always come out. Summary: The revelation of your grandfather's identity is not the only secret that will unfurl itself into your life. Notes: This week has just been another shitshow of utter chaos, but it is LOVELY chaos, so I hope you enjoy the chapter my darlings! As always, sorry for any errors I miss. I’m just an exhausted little nerd doing my best 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

"How are you here?" And, more over, how are you real? But one thing at a time. The fuzzy edges of the memory that washed up on the shores of your dreams are still nudging at your waking mind.

He sighs sadly, his eyes shuttering slightly as he reflects on what has brought him back to you. “It was only because of your abuela’s sacrifice, muñequita. It was the only way to lift the spell. She loved you more than anything else on this earth.”

"I don't understand." Whether it's the fog of waking up so suddenly or the confusion of memories and dreams and daydreams all slamming together in your mind, you can't quite tell.

“I am your grandfather.” He tells you with a charming grin. “Some call me ‘The Thief’, since it has been years since anyone but the people in this house have known my name. But you always called me ‘Yayo’.” He bows slightly as he tells you his real name.

“Holy shit.” Max hisses, his eyes wide as he stares at his sire. The pieces are clicking into place, but even he is shocked at how close you really are to the man who had created him, who had saved him when he had been destroyed. How was it possible? A vampire cannot have children, at least that’s what he’s been told.

"But...I made you up." That's the rational half of your brain. The part of you that knows dreams aren't real, that fantasies can't come true through manifestation alone, and that love is a feeling rather than a universal force. But the other half of you? The witch who was born of witches who once conjured fire with nothing more than a thought and bare hands? That part of you knows he's telling the truth. "Didn't I?"

Again, another sigh. A habit he had picked up from his late soulmate. The human-ifcation as she liked to call it. “No. When your mother took you away, banned us from seeing you, the only way I could visit was through your dreams. Apparently the spell she cast had also made you forget about myself and your grandmother.”

Max is tense beside you and you cover his hand with one of yours, squeezing it as if it might reassure him that everything is okay. You can feel that intrinsically even if the logic for how you know that escapes you. "I think..." Like a rapid-fire collage on the inside of your mind, flashing of visits with your grandparents burn to life as very real memories instead of gauzy wisps of dreams. "I—um—" Looking between the two men, realizing that you're in bed and in your pajamas, you look back to Yayo with wide eyes. "You're not a witch, are you?" You ask, needing confirmation more than you actually need to be told. The memories are there in your mind, but they aren't clear.

Chuckling quietly, he shakes his head. “No witch.” He promises, letting his razor-sharp fangs descend from his gums to show off his true nature. “A vampire who was soulmates with a witch, just as my protégé.” His eyes shift to Max. “Now you understand why you were brought back.”

The next puzzle piece clicks into place in your mind and you gasp, looking over to Max with wide eyes. "Are you— I mean— did he?—" You sputter inelegantly, running out of breath all at once as you try to stutter out a coherent question. " Your sire is my...grandfather?"

“I didn’t know.” Max shakes his head in awe, apparently nearly speechless considering he knows that this vampire is older than any other that he knows.

"There is much to say." Yayo's eyes move between you on the bed, coming back to you after a few seconds and holding your gaze. Not in an entrancing way, but with the soft eyes of a doting grandfather. "We can talk anywhere you like, muñequita. But when you were a little girl you were very grouchy before breakfast."

"I should at least get dressed, I guess." For the second morning in a row, you are starting out disoriented and with an unexpected visitor. But this time you're not afraid. Curious? Oh yes. But there is none of that deep, intrinsic fear that there was yesterday.

“Then I shall meet you in the dining room.” Yayo bows and turns to disappear through the door like a ghost, completely silent as he moves.

It's icy cold around you when he sweeps out of the room without a sound, and you turn to Max in wide-eyed confusion. "Um..." you huff, shaking your head. You want to ask how he had possibly gotten in the house, but that seems like a moot point by now. "Good morning?"

“It seems like there is a lot going on.” He snorts slightly, reaching out to you to stroke your arms lightly. “How are you feeling?”

"Weird." The sense of safety that you have with Max is absolute, and you nearly collapse into his side to beg silently for more of his comforting touch. "I dreamt about him again last night. And it was a dream. But it felt so real..."

“I don’t think it was a dream, Queenie.” Max murmurs softly. “I think your grandfather made you relive a memory. He was here, all night.”

"He was here?" When your head pops up again you want to harrumph about having two vampires sit around watching you sleep, but as soon as you think it you think again about how safe that is. And how no one else in the world would probably feel as safe around creatures who drink blood to survive as you do. "Max?" Your head tilts slightly and you find his eyes. "Have you ever known your sire to lie?"

“Never lie.” Max tells you. “Sometimes he doesn’t tell you everything. He’s…enigmatic, but not a liar.”

"I remember my parents fighting," you tell him quietly, pressing a kiss to the tip of Max's shoulder before you push back the blankets to crawl out of bed and find some clean clothes. You're doubly glad that you took a bath last night. It had helped you relax and be sleepy for bed, but now it takes away the need to wash this morning. "That's what I dreamt about. My parents fighting with my grandparents." Right before you disappear around the corner into your dressing room, you turn to look at him with sadness in your eyes. "About me."

“Families sometimes don’t agree.” Max can understand that you are hurt by that. Zipping over to you to wrap his arms around you. “But you can find out why now. And….” He bites his lip. “You have family still.”

"One person." Though you nod against his chest, knowing that he's right as you hug him back. "It was too much to let me know both of them, I guess."

“He said something about a sacrifice.” Max doesn’t want to cloud your opinion before you talk to his sire. “I know that it was Cookie’s choice to stop taking his blood. He did not agree, but he could not stop her.”

"Allison said Cookie...abuela was trying to break some kind of spell. They were working together trying to combine their magic to make it happen but they couldn't." Realizing that you were technically brought here under false pretenses is odd, but you can't find it in yourself to be upset about it. Apparently, this situation is far more complicated than you knew.

“Then we should hear the unfiltered story from his mouth.” Max encourages, giving you a small smile as he reels from the developments of the morning.

"I guess that is what breakfast will be for." Looking at your closet, you look back to Max with determination. "You said your sire was a big deal in the vampire world, right? I should...try to dress up? Dress respectfully?"

“Dress in whatever makes you feel good.” He arches a brow. “This is your grandfather, important vampire or not. Your imaginary friend isn’t so imaginary anymore.”

"What's your favourite color?" It seems like a silly question, but in the face of so much chaos you're looking for an anchor. Something solid to hold onto in the storm. And if that thing is as simple as wearing your soulmate's favorite color, then that's what you're going to do.

Max smirks slightly as he leans against the door frame. “Blood red.” He teases for a second before he shakes his head. “No— actually, yellow is my favorite color.”

"Okay." Yellow...you have a few yellow things somewhere...you can definitely find something, at least. For now you reach up to hug Max as tightly as you can and exhale an unsteady breath. "I'm just going to get dressed and then I'll meet you downstairs?

“Of course, sweetheart.” Max understands that you might need a few moments to yourself. He nods and then disappears out of the doorway to dress himself and go down to the dining room.

The photograph of you and your mother that stares back from your vanity mirror is a tantalizing route back to those memories that still escape you. You find yourself staring at it for longer than you should, tracing the curve of your mother's face and seeing the way that Yayo's curls somehow had ended up on her head. How had you never noticed? Or were those curls just something you found so comforting that it simply hadn't occurred to you not to give them to your imaginary friend? But he isn't imaginary at all. He's so very real. And he is your family.

Sighing, you dig into your dresser until you come out with an amber colored cable knit sweater and a pair of dark brown corduroy pants. The comfortable ones that Derek hated because he said they weren't putting your best foot forward. Fuck that. You've always loved these pants. If comfort is a way to take back power, you are absolutely here for it.

Max is dressed in a flash, downstairs and waiting for you. His eyes fixed on the stairs as he tries not to ask his sire any questions that you might wish to know the answer to while he waits.

As quickly as you can, you head downstairs, only to find both men standing at the bottom of the grand staircase instead of sitting in the dining room as you expected them. "Waiting for me?" You ask, knowing the answer but feeling unduly self-conscious about it all of a sudden.

"I would wait to eternity for you muñequita." He promises, soft affection glowing as he steps forward and offers you his arm. While he understands the modern customs and traditions, he still prefers his way of being. Set in his ways about some things, and the opportunity to touch you is still a delightful experience. "Your breakfast is nearly ready, and I believe the tea service is already on the table."

“Mrs. Taylor is wonderful.” And you’ll never downplay that, especially not now that you realize your housekeeper has been his housekeeper for a very long time. Taking his arm instead of Max’s feels strange only in that you aren’t used to Yayo being solid. In all the thoughts you have of him, he is a figment of your imagination and not much more. Realizing that there is more at stake here is a lot to process.

“She is.” He won’t deny that in the least. “She took care of your mother when she was a child as well.” Since she had been with them for so long, Mrs. Taylor had known the entire history of the family.

“Mom…grew up here?” It’s only a few steps into the dining room, and Yayo pulls out your chair for you before sitting down on your right. Max takes the seat on your left and you note quietly that there are only three places set. Allison and Eddie must have gone back to Allison’s house last night after their date.

Settling beside you, his eyes are focused on you. “This house was built in 1852.” He explains. “When I found out that your grandmother was pregnant with your mother. She gave birth to her in this house.”

“What?” The math doesn’t add up. Not at all. The woman you remember — the woman you have photos of — was maybe in her mid-30s at the oldest. “Mom was…over a hundred and fifty years old?”

“Yes.” He knows it’s nearly impossible to imagine, but it’s true. “Your mother was half vampire, half witch and like me, nearly did not age.”

“Will you…” you sigh softly, and pour yourself a cup of tea with shaky hands. “Will you start at the beginning, Yayo? Please?”

Again, there is a carafe of blood, and he pours himself and Max a cup before he pick up the elegant tea cup and smiles slightly, remembering how he had bought this set for his Cookie. “When I was a young man, I was a thief.” He tells you, wanting you to understand the background of your family line. “The best. I was never caught save for one time.” He flashes a grin. “When I stole from the Devil.”

The Devil. For the moment — and for as unbelievable as the rest of the story seems to already be — you suspend your disbelief and nod. “How long ago was this?” You ask, trying politely to get a handle on exactly how old Yayo is.

"201 B.C." He answers with a small smirk. "I am quite a bit older than most would guess." Even Max's eyes widen dramatically, unaware that his sire was such an ancient vampire. "As punishment for my sin, the Devil decided to make an example of me." He takes a sip of his blood and pauses dramatically. "I was the first of our kind. The undead. The first vampire to walk the earth."

When you glance at Max it’s very clear that your soulmate fully believes the story that is being told, and you would never take Max for easily misled. More over, he knows a hell of a lot more about vampires than you do. So you sip your tea in contemplative silence for a long moment before sitting back in your chair again. “And you met Ms. Brown—Cookie—that is…abuela…in the 18th century?” The timeline here is mind boggling, but you’re trying your best here. To understand it all. To believe it.

“Part of my punishment was that I would walk without my soulmate for over a thousand years.” He snorts elegantly. “Apparently a few hundred extra years is no matter to the Devil.”

“And abuela was born a witch?” The genetic differences between witches and humans had dwindled over time to become very subtle. The powers they manifested were less powerful, too, and you regret now that you never listened more deeply to your father when he tried to tell you about your ancestors. Your mother’s intense desire to live a human life had overruled that sort of talk as you got older.

“Yes.” The proud gleam to the ancient vampire’s eyes reappears and he caresses the edge of the teacup. “Cookie was formidable. A powerful witch. When we met, she had come to the colonies because her own coven had cast her out. Scared of the power she possessed.”

“She was remarkable.” Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway from the pantry with a plate of fixed breakfast for you, as the only warm blooded person at the table, and a bowl each of fruit and raw nuts for the vampires to pick at with their blood. “Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you have decided to leave the tower.”

“So that’s where you’ve been camped out.” Max snorts, smirking at his sire. “Dramatic as always.”

“Is that why Renee looked like she’d seen a ghost when I asked her about the locked room?” You thank Mrs. Taylor softly, as always, and inhale the beautiful scent of the last pieces of quiche from yesterday — one of your favourite leftovers that you had begged her to save — alongside a fresh salad, a few slices of bacon, and a warm croissant. She has outdone herself, as always.

Your grandfather clicks his tongue at Max, slightly annoyed at making it sound dramatic, even though it is. "I had a room next to Cookie's spell room. It was so that I would not bother her, but I could rest easier closer to her." He frowns slightly, still getting used to talking about his beloved in the past tense.

“Max is going to help me turn the teahouse into a little spell cottage.” The urge to be excited and proud for something you’re sharing with your soulmate is overwhelming, simply because after yesterday morning — and so many years before — there was not much to be excited about. And certainly no family to share anything with.

He smiles, a flash of fang and white teeth. No longer hiding them now that he's not just in your subconscious. "That is wonderful, muñequita." He agrees. "Every witch would have her own space. Your mother preferred her room, no other would do, when she would work on her magic."

“Her room was the one with the silver wallpaper, wasn’t it?” Somehow there is no doubt of that in your mind. The powerful feeling of belonging and comfort you had gotten from it when you first walked through the house now makes perfect sense, and you’re glad that you didn’t choose it for yourself. From now on you can go and sit in your mother’s room when you miss her, and that almost brings happy tears to your eyes. Because gods above, you have missed her so much.

"It was." He smiles as he realizes you must have felt a connection to the room. A presence. Since his daughter had passed, he had hoped that the feeling of her spirit - her early spirit - would remain. It and you were all he had left of his beloved child. "The portait hanging above the bed is your mother, nieta. She was twenty when it was painted."

“Abuela kept it close.” It isn’t even a question. You understand completely that that is how it ended up in the bedroom that once belonged to your grandmother and is now yours. “Was it for when she came out? Or…did Mom ever have anyone? Before Dad, I mean?” It’s a delicate topic but an important one, and something pulling at the back of your mind pushes you to ask it now instead of waiting.

“Your mother had a soulmate that she was with.” The memory makes him frown, his brow furrowing slightly.

“She did?” That is startling news, considering she always told you that she didn’t have one. But apparently there are a great many things your mother didn’t tell you.

"It is probably my greatest regret." There is a dramatic sigh for show from the vampire and he sets his tea cup down. "I, like any parent, made mistakes, muñequita." He admits. "Like Cookie and I, we believed that your mother was destined to be mated with a vampire. By the time she had come - which was a miracle - there was a large coven of witches and vampires. Despite my best efforts, there had been tensions between the two groups." He bites his lip. "Our nature, our bloodlust, craves the blood of a witch more than anything else." He reveals. "It's nearly ambrosia to a vampire and because of that, there had been some hard feelings among the covens because of our...less than responsible vampires."

"You believed she was meant to be mated with a vampire even though there were objections to vampire and witches interacting?" It isn't a judgement call, you're just trying to understand. Apparently your little suburban family with typical holiday dinners (and atypical holidays) was far less typical than you thought. "And Mom...didn't want that?"

"Vampire and witches are stronger together." He tells you quietly. "Especially for us. My line. We were the only ones capable of having children. Of creating a lineage." He sighs again. "She was in love with him. Emanuel was a smart, talented young man. Her mother and I were proud when we discovered they had matching marks."

"So what happened, then? Did something happen to him?" It must have, otherwise your father would have been a very different man. And Yayo wouldn't look so terribly sad.

“I made the mistake of changing him.” He murmurs quietly. “I didn’t do it without his permission. He wanted to become a vampire.” It’s almost as if he was imploring you to believe him.

"But you didn't talk to Mom first?" Though it is only a guess, it is a solid one, and you put your fork down for a moment. "It was a long time ago, Yayo. A very long time ago. I'm not judging you. I just want to understand what happened to my family."

“No, I did not talk to your mother.” He had hoped it would be seen as a gesture on Emanuel’s part. His acceptance of the family he had joined. “Unfortunately, your mother’s blood called to him. He tried to drink from her and she—” he winces. “She destroyed her soulmate.”

“Gods.” If you had been holding anything you would have dropped it instantly. Your mother killed her soulmate over bloodlust. That makes you stammer for a moment before all you can do is reach for Max’s hand and try not to shudder at the idea. You know Max would never hurt you. He’s proved that. He’s your port in the storm. “I’m so sorry, Yayo.”

"She blamed me. As she should have." He watches as you reach for Max and it soothes him in a way that he would never be able to explain. Your soulmate is a vampire and yet you are still drawn to him, comforted by him. "I had not yet learned how to bring one of my protégé back, so he was lost to us."

“Thank you for learning.” Your hand tightens around Max’s subtly, fingers flexing and keeping his grip. “For…making sure Max was here for me when I needed him.”

"Of course, muñequita." He nods his head seriously. "You should have met him years before and I cannot fix the past, but I could make sure you would meet him."

“And you have no idea how much that means to me.” He has no idea of what you’ve been through. What has gone on in your life between childhood and now. But at least you can say to his face that you’re grateful.

“I spent many years trying to find the way to fix my mistakes.” He murmurs quietly. “I am afforded the luxury of time, so I decided to put it to good use.”

“They did raise me a witch.” It’s the most reassurance you can give him, since your parents did not give you even a hint of the reality of vampires in the world. They had taught you magic, yes, but you had never had a real talent for spell work. “I’m sorry to ask you all of these things all at once. I just…I guess I don’t understand why we haven’t been in contact since the accident?” Allison had told you something about helping Cookie break a powerful spell, and that that was why she chose to stop drinking Yayo’s blood. But you still don’t quite understand.

“Your mother, while she wished to be human,” he sighs again. “Was a powerful witch. Some of her own talents far surpassing even her mother’s.” He picks up a few of the nuts and rolls them around in his hand. “There is a spell, a protective barrier, that would keep anyone away until the blood price has been paid.” He stares at you solemnly. “Death.”

“She really didn’t want me involved in all of this…” Something which is both stunning and rather appalling to you, considering coming to Newport might truly have saved your life. Who knows what might have happened to you if you had had to live in your car in Tennessee. Knowing that your sweet, steadfast mother was angry enough with her parents to separate you for life is daunting.

“Your mother…” he doesn’t wish to speak ill of the dead, and especially of the daughter that he had loved for centuries and will continue to love until he is destroyed. “Was very much human in the fact that she was not infallible, none of us are.” He doesn’t wish for you to hold a grudge against her, even as he tries to explain things. “I pushed too hard and tried to see you again after that last memory I showed you. That was when she cast the spell.”

“A spell that kept you and abuela away…and made me think that I made you up?” That is a remarkably impressive spell, you will admit it freely. Your mother’s abilities must have been far greater than you could ever have dreamed.

“Yes.” He bites his lip. “It was one that took us a long time to even figure out what she had used and even longer to discover the key to breaking it.” He reaches out and touches your hand. “Your abuela left you a letter, in case these truths ever came to light.”

“I would like to read it. If it’s not too much trouble.” A few of Cookie’s own words might be wonderful, if you’re honest. Though you do already feel the fullness in your mind off memories beginning to resettle now that you realize they are memories and not only your imagination. “It…doesn’t have to do this moment. It will take some time to process all of this.”

“Whenever you feel like it.” He promises, smiling indulgently at you. “I will have them placed in your room for when you are ready.”

“I’m…” There isn’t technically any reason to feel this way, but you still squeeze his cold hand gently. “I’m sorry we were apart so long.”

“Muñequita, do not feel guilty.” He chides softly, aware of that expression on your face. “It is I who am the guilty one. You have suffered for so long because I could not find you. I could not reach you.”

“It isn’t your fault that I was in a bad situation. Or Max’s either.” Acutely aware that Max views himself as responsible for that entire situation because he had been expelled that night, you won’t hear of it for even a second. “It seems like this is a new beginning for all of us.” New, aside from the specter of your ex-boyfriend that now hangs over Newport.

“Though I hear you had a visitor yesterday.” Your grandfather’s youthfully middle aged face drops unhappily and his eyes darken fiercely.

“I—” Mistaking his displeasure for anger directed at you, your eyes stop to the table instantly. “He was not invited,” you defend immediately, not wanting anyone to get in trouble on your account.

He pauses when he realizes that you think he is upset at you. “Yes, this…Derek will be dealt with.” He promises you. “Although I do not understand why you will not let your soulmate kill him.”

“Because I don’t believe that murder is ever the answer. Regardless of the question.” Suffering, pain, death — none of it. You’ve lived several lifetimes of all that hurt and you would be happy to never have another second of it near you.

“Kind and empathetic.” He hums, not displeased with the idea at all. “I will promise you this—” he taps your hand gently. “If he harms you again, nothing on this earth or in hell will protect him from me.” It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. A pact to repay every hurt he has ever bestowed upon you tenfold.

“I will say if I am hurt or not.” That is the bargain you will make. To make your grandfather feel as though the door is open, though you need intend to go through it.

His eyes narrow for a moment in contemplation and he nods. “Agreeable.” He decides.

******

For the rest of your meal, he answers your questions, never shying away from the answers and it surprises Max. His sire has always been elusive at times, and yet, he is very succinct with you. Perhaps it is because of the want to keep you close.

After he leaves you, your grandfather goes back to the tower. The locked room beyond Cookie’s potion room now opened. The mahogany box retrieved from a shelf and his fingers brush over the inlaid gold. The letters are inside. Lovingly preserved for you. His soulmate had taken to writing you at least once a week since deciding that she would sacrifice herself to break what she viewed as a curse. Her thoughts, hopes, memories all immortalized in ink, her familiar script beautiful as he opens the box and lifts a letter to his nose, inhaling the scent of her perfume. “You would have loved her, Cookie.” He murmurs sadly. “She’s stronger than all of us.”

******

The cadence of his footsteps is unfamiliar, and nearly nonexistent, but you know it’s him coming into the library a few minutes after breakfast has ended without ever having to look up. Mrs. Taylor has left menus for you to approve and Max is outside at the teahouse with Mr. Taylor — and Renee is altogether too bright and sunshiny for such a quiet entrance. But when Yayo appears holding a beautifully and intricately carved box in his hands, the arrival is near-silent and solemn.

“I had considered leaving these in your rooms.” He admits quietly, his voice low and soothing like it always is. “But then, I did not know if you would want that.”

“Would you…” you push the tray of menus aside, knowing that Mrs. Taylor won’t object to getting them later today. Not when these letters are so important. “Want to sit with me? While I read some?”

“I would be delighted.” Silently and much faster than Max, he moves over to you with the box.

The letter box is lacquered mahogany, trimmed in gilded dragons done after the Chinese style in what you now know intimately as chinoiserie — a Gilded Age specialty. It’s yet one more thing in this house that someone else would sell for a fortune at auction and instead you cling to it desperately as a connection to your family’s past. The key that he has left resting on top fits neatly into the lock and you open the box with a small smile as you bite your lip in concentration. The box is very old, after all, and delicate. What’s inside, though? Dozens of letters. Some thick and some thin. All stamped with blood red wax and addressed to you. “There’s…so many of them…”

“My late soulmate was a woman who loved to write letters.” He admits, his smile wistful. “There is a trunk of letters she had written to your mother while we were…estranged.” He reveals. “At one point after learning of her death, she had thought to burn them all, but could not.”

“The accident wasn’t easy for anyone,” you admit, glad to see him pull up a chair beside the large library desk with you instead of pacing anxiously or giving you distance. There has been so much distance for so long — all you want now is to keep him close. “I almost withdrew my place in college and just stayed closed up in the house. But I knew they wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“No, they wouldn’t have.” As much as he regrets not being there for you, he admires your courage. You might not think so, but you have been extremely strong-willed through the last ten years.

“And these are…all for me?” It seems incredible to you, that anyone would have spent so much time and effort just thinking of you, but the reality of things has been so different than what you thought they were for your entire life that it bears a sort of…reinspection.

“Yes.” He smiles at the box. “She would sit at her writing desk and talk to me about you. Wondering what you were like, how you were doing.”

“What was your favorite thing to imagine?” There is no way they could have guessed the truth, and that is your comfort. That you hope they never feared for you.

“You used to love to dance.” Your grandfather hums. “We spent hours dancing in your living room when you were small. We used to imagine you dancing. Laughing as you were guided along the dance floor.”

“I stopped for a long time.” You admit, not ashamed of the fact although you’re ashamed of the reason. It’s just what happened. It was your life for many years. “But I’ve started again…because of Max.”

“That’s brilliant.” His eyes sparkle in delight and his lips quirk up in a pleased smile. “You were so happy to learn when you were just a baby.”

“I loved ballet.” The slipper blanket still in your room is proof enough of that, and you smile. “But I do love ballroom more. And Max did danced competitively in college. It’s…honestly so nice to be able to share that with him.”

“It was my rule for the school that all students must take an elective that was creative.” He tells you with a dramatic flip of his hand. “I think it appealed to him because I was teaching the class and your soulmate is a bit of a suck up.”

“So you teach, then?” Ignoring the comment about Max — because you used to be a little bit of a suck up in dance class, too — you leave the letter chest closed and focus on Yayo. “In Romania?”

“That is how I discovered your soulmate, Muñequita.” He hums. “When I saw the birthmark, a mark I would know anywhere, I knew. I knew I had to take him under my wing.”

“I’m so grateful that you did.” If not for Yayo, who knows who Max’s sire would have been? Who knows how you ever would have found him again?

“I made mistakes with him as well.” He can admit that, flashing a fangy smile. “I let him get too arrogant. But he has learned his lesson.”

“According to him, he was already arrogant,” you tell your grandfather. “But he says that his attitude has changed enormously since you brought him back.”

“It has.” He agrees with Max’s assessment of himself completely. “This house, his stay here has been good for him.”

“This house has been good for me, too.” Yesterday morning notwithstanding, of course.

“Of course it has.” To imagine anything else would be unbelievable. “Despite your mother’s ill feelings, I had this house built to be a refuge, a haven, if you will.”

“Mom didn’t like having her hand forced. I didn’t understand it then, but I do as I get older.” It makes you shrug, though, not wanting to start an argument with your grandfather. “But this house has certainly been a haven for me. So thank you.”

“If I could have done things differently, I would have.” He admits quietly. “I would have bitten my tongue and realized my daughter’s dreams for life weren’t mine for her.”

“Regretting and wishing can’t bring them back,” you murmur, voice finding the same tenor as his. “If it could, we would have had my parents back immediately.”

“You are right.” He reaches out and pats your hand. “You are as wise as you are beautiful.”

“I have had a lot of time to think it over. Not as much as you, of course, but…” A slight shrug of your shoulders comes as your hand runs over the box in front of you again. “There is so much I would say to my mother if I could see her again.”

His smile turned mysterious and he hums. “Think of what you would say to her, Muñequita. Never forget it.”

“I wish she could meet Max.” The thought had already occurred to you more than once, and as much as it hurts you also have to believe that she’s watching over you with your father beside her. “I think they would enjoy teasing each other.”

“She had a robust sense of humor.” He chuckles. “Perhaps one day you will know what she thinks.”

“It would be too wonderful for words, I think.” Dwelling on it for too long threatens to drown you in a wave of sadness, and your expression flickers — faltering slightly. “But I can dream.”

Sensing that you might want some space, he pats your hand again and stands. “I think I will go have Mrs. Taylor bring you up a pot of tea while you go through your abuela’s letters.” He decides.

“Thank you, Yayo.” Your hand catches his, squeezing his fingers tight for a moment before letting it go again. “For everything.”

“It is my pleasure and my duty.” He nods and bows slightly before disappearing from sight.

The box in front of you is full to bursting, and when you open the lid it is clear that some letters consist of a single page while some are self-contained novelas. They seem to be stacked in order of writing, but not with any semblance of order in the time between each letter. Selecting the first — a single sheet neatly folded, waxed, and dated — you carefully slip the seal and open the paper.

My Darling Girl— It has been a month and a week since we visited you last, making today your ninth birthday. I hope it is joyful, sweetheart, and that you know how very dearly your grandfather and I love you. When we see you again we will bring your gift and heaps of books, and your grandfather will dance with you until you are too exhausted even to laugh. And it will do my heart so much good to see you both reunited. You are the magic of our hearts, darling, and always will be. But in case this letter is only the first of many you will not see until you are a grown woman, know that we are thinking of you and missing you every day. And that we are so proud of you, no matter what path you choose each day. Happy birthday, darling girl. We love you. Granny Cookie

The heavy vellum paper is quite old, the scrawling, looping handwriting a work of art. Cookie had whimsically decided that your letters would be written with a quill, like she would have before. Making it a labor of love.

There are so many that it seems daunting, and something tells you not to read them in order but that might just be a response to how many there are. You’re still toying with the box, though, when Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway with a tea tray.

“Your grandfather said you might enjoy some tea while you read.” She smiles as she walks inside. “I took the liberty of making Cookie’s favorite tea for you.”

“You’ve known the entire time.” Far from being angry or accusatory, there is awe in your voice. Her loyalty and steadfastness to your grandparents is astonishing.

“I have.” She doesn’t apologize, her smile softening slightly. “It has been hard not to mention your mother, since you look so like her.”

The tea tray she sets down on the desk beside you is sparse, but Mrs. Taylor never brings * only* tea. There is a plate of scones today, with jam and butter. “Did you ever meet me before?” You ask cautiously, unsure if you had ever even been to this house as a child or if the housekeeper had ever traveled with your grandparents. “When I was young?”

“We have met before.” She answers vaguely, a curious twist to her lips. “There was a time we spend quite a bit of time together.”

“I wish I could remember.” It must have been when you were just a baby, considering that first letter from your abuela was at your ninth birthday. “I wish I could remember this house. Or visiting here.”

“A side effect of the spell.” She murmurs quietly. “It’s as if this house never existed to you before now.”

“I knew my mother was powerful, but I guess I never really knew how much.” There were always signs of it growing up, and of course your father has considerable magic as well, but this is a level far beyond what you knew was possible. “But…I never knew she was half-vampire, either. I suppose there was quite a lot they kept from me.”

“Your mother…” she sighs softly, a sound just for you. It had been amazing learning how to do those things again when you don’t need to breathe. It conveys so much. “Always looked at the other side of the field and admired the grass there. Even though her side was perfectly lush.”

“She wanted to explore.” Even as young as you were when she died, you know that. “Explore new experiences and meet new people. The more and the more different, the better.”

“She had been that way for her entire life.” Mrs. Taylor hums, happy that she had never lost her spark. “She was the first of her social circle to wear pants when it was so terribly taboo.”

“I can see her doing that. Being a rabble rouser.” In fact, from alternative choices at bake sales to extra adventures on field trips, your mother was always ready for anything. For a long time, you had wanted to grow up to be just like her. Fearless.

“Despite that, she broke many hearts when her soulmate was found.” She tells you. “She had quite the number of gentleman callers before.”

“Dad always joked that he had to treat Mom like a princess because there would always be another guy who would if he didn’t.” Mostly those jokes had been to encourage you to look for someone who would treat you the same, but you hadn’t really understood that at the time. Now, you think it might be a big part of why your father might have approved of Max. “So I can see that.”

“That is true.” She agrees. “I did not get to know your father well, but he seemed like he was a good man. He loved your mother, that was obvious.”

“He did.” You nod, agreeing with that statement easily. “He loved her more than anything else in the world.”

“Then that is all that matters.” While she’s sure that her soulmate would have been amazing, she’s not lived for as long as she had without knowing that you don’t have to be a soulmate to love someone completely.

“They were wonderful together.” It warns a small, almost wistful sigh from you and you smile. “Completely wonderful.”

******

Max had not meant to leave you alone all day. After breakfast with his sire, he had gone off with Mr. Taylor to look at the Tea House. Looking had turned into doing and half the afternoon was gone before he realized. Strolling into the morning room, he grins when he finds you still reading letters, happy to see you enjoying yourself. Carefully handling the folded and wax sealed paper as if it were precious, because it is to you. “How many secrets did the old bird spill?”

“You’re never going to believe some of the stuff she wrote out for me.” Having moved from the library after tea to the window seat in the morning room, you’ve been basking in the near-sunset while you read uninterrupted. But now that Max is back inside? You shift to one side of the seat and sit up, making room for him to join you. “She wrote down as much as she could stand to, I think. Sometimes just little notes and sometimes pages upon pages.”

Max plops down next to you in a graceless flop that would have looks undignified by anyone else. He makes it look almost elegant in its casualness. “So it’s like a journal….in letters?” He asks curiously, peeking at the script of the one you are holding.

“Kind of.” You nod and shift closer to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne when he puts one arm around you. Since vampires don’t sweat, the only underlying scent is the intensely powerful sunscreen he wears everyday to keep from being affected by the sun. Enchanted, according to him. “Some of these are stories about my mom. Others are talking about powers she suspects I might have had, or would be able to develop. Others are just memories. Sometimes she even wrote down stories about her and Yayo.”

“Really?” His eyes widen and he playfully waggles his brows. “Don’t know if you should be reading those.” He teases.

“They’re not intimate stories.” You pinch Max with two fingers and laugh, feeling lighter this afternoon than you thought you would be able to. “They’re my grandparents.”

“Uhhhh, hate to tell you, babe…” Max grins even wider, happy you are laughing and smiling. “Grandparents fuck.” He snorts. “Otherwise there would be no parents to have the grandkids and make them grandparents.”

“Yes, they do.” The way you roll your eyes is just for show, playing along with his teasing. “But they don’t typically tell those stories to their twelve-year-old granddaughters.” The letter you happen open to be holding is on the thicker side, dated the summer you were twelve. “Usually.”

He snickers and shrugs. “It would be a lot cooler if they did.” He jokes. “Let the g-kids know how hip they were at one time.”

“I think I would have been horrified to hear that when I was twelve,” you tell him honestly. “I was a very innocent kid.”

“Very innocent, huh?” He leans in and kisses your cheek. “We’ll change that, Queenie.”

“I was an innocent kid.” The last word gets emphasis, and you tilt your head to kiss his lips as of that proves some sort of point. “I don’t think what we did the other night counts as innocent in the least.”

“Just a little harmless grinding.” His grin turns positively wicked. “It’ll be less innocent when my ‘no need to breathe’ face is planted in your pussy for hours on end until you can’t take another orgasm.”

It should be abundantly obvious from the shock on your face that you hadn’t yet put that puzzle together, and the heat in your cheeks radiates off you in waves. “Yep…” you manage to swallow finally and half-nod. “That will be…not innocent at all.”

The chuckle he gives is filthy, accompanied by a wink. “So I was thinking about another date tonight.”

"You were?" the suggestion lights you up immediately, although it is tinged with that unfortunate but real paranoia. "Did you have something in mind?"

“I know you love to dance, but I don’t want to be a one trick pony.” Max hums, leaning in against you. “So I thought we could be disgustingly cliché. There’s a pumpkin patch, with a corn maze and a ‘haunted hayride’.” He puts air quotes around the last portion. “They do all the cutesy shit and sell hot chocolate. I thought you would love it.”

“Are you going to protect me from all the jump scares and fake vampires?” It’s your own small brand of teasing, because even though you love horror movies as an adult there is something about jump scares in real life that is less fun and more anxiety-inducing. The one thing you do know, though, deep in your heart? Is that Max will protect you no matter what.

“Absolutely.” Max practically giggles. “Gotta show off so your little pussy throbs at what a strong, manly vamp I am.” He winks to show that he’s teasing, but he would protect you from anything.

“And you can smell it, so I can’t even pretend like it doesn’t affect me.” Which, admittedly, could be slightly embarrassing. But for some reason Max being so in tune with your emotions is a wicked turn on.

“You can pretend it doesn’t affect you at any time.” He hums. “Just because you’re turned on, doesn’t mean you are in the mood, sweetheart.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Although he does have a point, and you appreciate him acknowledging it out loud. “I was thinking more like…it’s harder to play innocent. Since I kind of have an inkling that you might enjoy that sort of thing.”

“Hmmmmm but I like when someone plays hard to get.” He admits with a grin. “Knowing they want me but making me chase is just as thrilling.”

“So this works for you perfectly then, I guess?” It’s one less thing to have on your mind, if he’s telling the truth. And Max has never given you any reason to think he would lie. “You probably love those great big doe eyes some girl have. The innocence and purity of it all.”

“I like your eyes.” He flirts shamelessly. “They are the prettiest I’ve ever gotten lost in.”

“I’m already yours, ya know.” Despite the protest, you absolutely melt in his arms and become a puddle against his chest. “You don’t have to flirt.”

“I want to flirt.” He promises. “Flirting is good for the body, mind and soul.” He announces. “It makes you feel good, makes you feel wanted and it makes you easier to kiss.” He teases, turning his head and kissing your nose.

“In that case?” You could not be more putty-like in his arms if he had been literally kneading your shoulders. “What time do you want to go out tonight? Because hay rides and pumpkins and chilly fall things with you sounds like a dream.”

“Six? Six-thirty?” He asks. “That way we still have plenty of daylight to pick out pumpkins? I know you will want one or two.”

“That’s perfect.” You would probably put a pumpkin or two in every room of the house if you could, but that sounds like a mess waiting to happen. “Do you want to sit with me for a little bit or do you have something you want to do before then?” It’s about a hour and a half away, and there are so many more letters from your grandmother to read. The box seems never ending. It might even be enchanted to hold extra, you can’t tell.

“I’m right here until we change,” he promises. “I’m thinking this will be our casual date. Leggings, boots, for you of course.”

“Maybe we can alternate?” It’s just a small idea, but knowing that he loves to dress up and make a splash and you aren’t typically as well dressed as he is lets you both have moments of fun and moments of relaxation. “Something fancy and something casual?”

“That sounds good to me, Queenie.” He flashes you a grin. “Can’t hurt and it’ll keep you from getting bored.”

“I have a feeling I’ll never be bored with you.” It’s just a feeling, but it’s right in the back of your mind and hovering over your heart, so it’s undeniable.

“It’s because I’m incredible.” He boasts, but it’s all just an act. His thigh is pressed against yours and he looks over at the letters. “Want to read me one? Or is it something you’d rather keep to yourself for now?”

“I think it’s safe to say that my family is your family…since my grandfather is literally your sire and all.” It does sort of call the structure of vampire families into question in your mind, but that is a detail you will ask Yayo about later on. “You can read the next one. That sounds nice.”

“You want me to read it to you?” He asks, brow raised at the thought. “I will.”

“I like your voice,” you admit sheepishly, sinking down in his arms a little in a rush of embarrassment. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Oh no, you aren’t getting out of it now.” He teases, reaching into the box and selecting a letter. “Hmmmm, how does this one look?”

“Perfect.” Every time he shows such amusement or happiness at little compliments from you, you feel that same skip in your heart that you’re starting to think might become a permanent fixture in your life. Max never ceases to surprise you with his affection and it really is wonderful.

“Puuuuurrrrrfect.” He rolls his ‘r’ playfully as he slides a neatly manicured nail under the wax seal and breaks it. Stopping and shuddering before he looks over at you. “Did you feel that?”

“It’s just a little chilly in here.” You explain it away instinctively, not even realizing that a breeze would have no effect on Max whatsoever.

“Sppppooooooky.” He’s playing it up, but there had been a current to the air when he broke the seal on this letter. Clearing his through is purely perfunctory as he opens the stiff paper. “My darling Muñequita,” he begins and says the date.

This is a later letter, something from you were a teenager. Max must have gone deep into the box. You hum happily at that and snuggle into his side like a cat.

“You really are the cleverest witch I have seen in my time. And considering how old I truly am, that is saying something.” He tilts his head and glances up at you before looking back at the letter. “To think that the answer was right in front of us, just a few words difference is simply magical, pardon the pun.”

“Are you sure this one is addressed to me and not my mom?” Though the question is rhetorical, there is also a nugget of truth to it. You haven’t done any sort of remarkable magic in years.

“It says it’s to you.” He huffs, flipping it back over so you can see the way it’s addressed. “Hush.” He blows you a raspberry. “Take the compliments. Now where was I?” He scans the page again. “For centuries, we had just believed that it was a myth, as fanciful as that sounds. Time travel. Who would have believed H.G.Wells was a witch?”

“I’m sorry.” Sitting up ramrod straight in an instant, your eyes go wide. “Did you just say time travel?”

“Are you always this disruptive?” Max teases as he waves the letter at you. “It’s right here. Do you want to read it for yourself?”

“But time travel is impossible!” Managing to snatch the letter from his hand, you settle back in his arms with a furrowed brow and your two front teeth firmly biting down on your lower lip as you reread what he had just read out loud. “Who would have believed H.G. Wells was a witch? Of course, everyone know that magic, alchemy, and science are all the same thing. But not everyone knows how to harness it to emotion. But you are such a clever thing, we ought to have suspected that you would find a way.”

“Sounds like someone did something.” Max intones, his voice playful, but he’s impressed.

“I can’t imagine what. By the time this was written, they hadn’t been allowed to see me in more than six years.” Still, the pull of this particular letter is far too strong, and you turn back to it with curiosity. “It took us an embarrassingly long time to understand it fully, Muñequita, but once we did you cannot imagine how foolish we felt for not seeing it years before.”

“Wow...incredibly intriguing.” Max snorts, impatient as always. “Like- what did you do? I wanna know.”

"I'm disruptive and you're impatient," you tease, but you keep reading. "To know that you managed to visit us from your time is remarkable beyond words. And how clever you were not to let us know, to never have even given us a whiff. You have your Yayo's talent for keeping secrets, darling girl, and we are so proud of the power you have finally come to. We will keep the portrait you so graciously left with us in the house and I will display it proudly for all of my days, telling anyone who asks that my granddaughter has a warm and loving heart and a doting, charming husband."

“Husband?” His own eyes widen slightly and his lips curve into a slow grin. “Something I should know, Queenie?”

“At the moment you know exactly as much as I do.” Your hand is practically shaking with the letter in it, but the slightly smug, pleased grin on his face makes you huff out a laugh. “I have no idea!”

“Wellllllll, now we have a mystery to talk about.” Max chuckles. He knows that you don’t know, but it’s intriguing.

“If I had to guess?” Being the kind of little kid — and sometimes adult — that had dreamt yourself into every possible and impossible kind of situation, you avoid his eyes slightly when you shrug. “If this is true, then you must have been there, too. I wouldn’t call anybody else that, and depending on when we went to, dating doesn’t exist. It’s married or unmarried, and an unmarried woman has a hell of a lot more restrictions on how she can act than a married one.”

“That would be interesting.” He snorts and shrugs. “I promise I won’t demand my husbandly rights if you’re correct.”

“Maybe we’ll actually be married by the time it happens, who knows?” It’s such a ludicrous ides that you can’t really take it seriously in the first place, and you shrug. “Besides, it’s time travel, honey. It’s not true. It can’t be.”

“And vampires don’t exist.” Max reminds you with a grin. “It’s so unbelievable that you would go back in time to visit with your granny when your soulmate doesn’t have a pulse and drinks blood?”

He has, frustratingly, a very good point. So much so that it makes you pause with your mouth already half-open to a pithy reply and shut it again with a furrowed brow. “I guess…” you swallow a deep breath. “If I wear every going to visit anyone…”

“She would be the one to visit.” Max finishes for you. “I wonder when you visit her. Obviously you haven’t yet.”

“After Mom was born.” You can answer that easily, even if your voice is quiet. “Any time when Mom was young. I always wondered what she was like as a young woman…and she never liked to tell stories. I get why, now. How could she rephrase a story about the 1870s to make it sound like modern life?” The idea of seeing your mother again is painful it’s so sweet, and you sniffle quietly, burying your face in your free hand. “I miss her so much.”

“I know you do.” Max hums thoughtfully after a moment. “You can’t have gone to the past when she would remember it, would you? Otherwise, she might have done things differently in life, right?”

“I guess…it would have to have been long enough ago that she wouldn’t have a strong memory of me. Or at least that she would never make the connection.” It feels like such a weird thing to contemplate, but Max is looking down at you so intently that you find yourself just spinning in the idea. Trying to follow the thought all the way through. “And I certainly wouldn’t use my real name. It would be Dolly. Or Queenie.”

“When we time travel, don’t use your real name, got it.” He gives you a thumbs up and snorts playfully. “Can I have a code name too?”

“Sure.” If you do roll your eyes at him it’s all in good fun and teasing. “What do you want your code name to be? James Bond?”

“Bond.” He imitates with an English accent. “James Bond.” He laughs and shakes his head.

He is laughing, which has you giggling, and you shake your head at him in pure amusement. “I genuinely can’t tell if that’s a yes or no,” you tease.

“I would need something way cooler.” He huffs and smirks at you. “Something that is subtly acknowledging my sexual magmatism.”

“Bruno?” Just about anything would be silly, and you can’t resist his smirk anyway. “Should we call you Jean-Claude van Damme?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Romania, not Austria, babe.”

“What would you like to be called?” What he wants is more important than anything, after all. At least, it is to you.

“I was just teasing, sweetheart.” He promises. “Call me Max, I promise it’ll be alright with me.”

"We won't ever need to worry about it." You're certain of that, somehow. Even with the evidence sitting right there in your hand.

“With this discovery, do you still want to go out?” He asks quietly. If you’d rather read more letters, he wouldn’t blame you.

“I think I need some time to adjust to the idea,” you admit, putting the letter down without finishing it. It’s taking up so much space in your mind that you feel as if you might explode. “Maybe I’ll shower before we go out? I know we said tonight is going to be casual but I still want to look nice for you.”

“Go shower, sweetheart.” He encourages you. “Or better yet, go soak in that claw foot tub.”

“Yeah?” It’s a very soothing idea, and you have to agree that it might do you a world of good. All the same, though, you don’t want to be too far from Max. “Are you going to go back out to the tea house?”

“No.” He can sense your unease, and he quickly decides that he will stay nearby. “I’m going to go see if my jeans still fit.” He jokes with a grin. “Haven’t worn them in a long time. No need to, until now.”

“I know you’ll be very handsome in whatever you choose.” It is touching, though, that he is dressing down for you. Because you know that his suits are his suits of armor.

“I know the leather jacket is what you’ll focus on.” He jokes, winking at you.

If you could stop yourself from blurting it out you would have, but your immediate reaction is an unapologetic: “You have a leather jacket?”

His eyes light up when you give yourself away and he nods. “Yep.” He hums, leaning in to you, crowding you slightly. “Black leather.”

“That…” When you swallow it’s slightly embarrassed but interested all the same. “That sounds nice.”

“Does it?” He rubs his hand down your arm. “That’s good. Maybe we’ll see how you look in it tonight when you get cold.”

The thought of being marked as his in any way makes you burn in the most unexpectedly lustful way, and you clear your throat before standing up. “I going to go take a cold bath.”

“You do that, sweetheart.” Max reaches out and pats your hip. “I’ll be here when you get out.” He pauses. “Better yet, I’ll be at your door when you’re ready.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance #The Thief #Casillero del Diablo #magic #witch reader

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vodika-vibes · 4 months

Text

Singing - a request from @wax-birds

Summary: Your soulmate isn’t much of a singer, there’s only one song that he sings, and by this point, you know it by heart. The first time you hear him in person, though, is when the Republic Soldiers come to your home world.

Pairing: Ordo Skirata x Reader

Word Count: 2135

Warnings: None

Prompt: Soulmate AU - you can hear your soulmate sing

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thanks for your request! I wasn't sure, at first, where to go with this, but I hope you like it!

You wake to the sound of singing echoing in your head and you groan, roll over, and pull your pillow over your head, as though that will stop the singing and let you fall back to sleep.

It won’t.

It never does.

You still have to try, though.

The singing continues, unhindered by the pillow, and you heave another sigh as you throw your pillow to the side and sit up.

You blink, blearily, at the chrono sitting innocently next to you. Barely five in the morning.

Kriff your soulmate, seriously. And not in a fun way.

You swing your legs off the side of your bed and meander your way to the fresher, humming along with the song echoing through your mind. Would it kill him to learn another song? Any other song?

Okay, that’s not fair.

He does know other songs because you hear him humming along to some of the songs that you sing, it’s just that this one song seems to be the only one that he sings regularly.

It’s called Vod’e An.

A Mandalorian battle song.

The only downside is that you’re never going to meet a Mandalorian. Your home planet is so far removed from Mandalorian Space that you’ve never even seen on. Plus, you’re pretty sure that Duchess whats-her-face banned the old Mandalorian culture.

Or maybe you’re spending too much time on conspiracy websites.

You turn the shower on and wait for the water to heat as you peel your sleep clothes off and toss them in the laundry. Since you’re already awake, you might as well prepare for the day.

As soon as the fresher starts filling with steam, you step under the water and start singing. A silly little pop song that has been playing a lot lately. You’re not surprised when the song in your head changes to singing along with you.

You and your soulmate have always had that effect on each other. Influencing what song the other one is singing. In a way, it’s reassuring. What, with the state of the galaxy, it’s nice to know that he’s still out there.

It’s a shame your soul bond with him is limited to singing, you’d like to get to know him.

Then again, your best friend’s soul bond is hearing his thoughts, and it made her such an anxious mess that she needed to be medicated.

Hm. You should call her.

You linger in the shower for long enough that the hot water starts to cool, and it is only then that you step out, wrap a towel around yourself, and start preparing for the day.

You work at a local boarding school. One of the most elite, expensive, and competitive schools on the planet. Today you have several parent interviews, to see if their child will thrive at the school or if another one would be a better fit.

You finish dressing, apply your makeup for the day, and then finally leave your bedroom. You head down the stairs to the kitchen and kiss your mother on the cheek.

“Morning, Mom.”

“Morning, sweetie. You’re up early.” The older woman beams at you as she sets a breakfast bowl on the table next to a mug of caff, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Just woke up.”

“Soul mate again?” She asks with a knowing smile.

“He takes early days, I guess.” You joke, “And then I started thinking about Clo and just couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

“Poor Chloe,” Your mom sighs as she sinks into a seat across from you, “Her parents sent her to an institute, you know. She stopped being able to tell her thoughts from her soul mate’s.”

“I hadn’t heard that.” You reply quietly.

“Her parents are devastated. They’re hoping he shows up soon.” She shakes her head.

“Do you think visiting her would help?”

“No visitors. She can’t even recognize her parents at this point.”

“That’s a shame.” You say with a sigh, before you shake your head, “What are you doing up so early, anyway?”

“Your brother called. He wants me to watch the twins for the day.”

You roll your eyes, “You need to start charging him for this.”

“Those kids are innocent.”

“Mom.”

“I know, I know.” She shakes her head, “Those kids don’t have any positive influences in their lives outside of me and your father. We’re taking them to the lake house for the week.”

“You’re watching them for a week?”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mom, you and Dad can do what you like, but you need to do something about this. Or he’s going to keep walking all over you.”

“That’s what I keep saying,” Your dad says as he steps into the kitchen. He kisses the top of your head, and then kisses your mom, before stealing a piece of toast from your plate, “We’re talking to a lawyer to get full custody.”

“There’s no room in your suite for two toddlers.”

“Yeah, well. We’re thinking of moving to the lake house permanently. Now that the renovations are done.” Dad says, “But, we’ll discuss this later, you’re going to be late.”

You blink at him and then glance at your chrono, before you swear and scramble to your feet, “Thanks for breakfast, mom!” You call as you hurry to the door.

“You’re welcome, don’t forget your purse!”

“I have it!”

You arrive at school 45 minutes later. You pull into your space, park the car, and stare in disbelief at the sheer number of people running around.

“You’re here, finally!” One of the young women who works in the office says as she runs over, “You have to come quickly.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“The Senator’s son ran off. And he called in the Republic. There are soldiers here. They want to talk to you.”

“To me?”

“Yeah, well. You know the students.” She drags you over to a pair of men near the building and then abandons you.

“And you are?” The shorter, and older, of the men asks.

You lift your lanyard, “I work here. I was told you wanted to talk to me?”

The younger man, still dressed in full armor, shifts at the sound of your voice and tugs his helmet off. His gaze is heavy as he scans your face, “You’re the guidance counselor?” His voice is familiar. Familiar in a way that makes your stomach flip, but you push the thought, and nerves, aside to focus on his question.

“Yeah. I mean, during the school year. Before the year begins I do parent interviews for student placement.” You reply.

“My name is Kal Skirata, this is my son, Ordo.” He nods to the taller man, “Is there someplace we can talk privately?”

“There won’t be anyone in my office if that works.”

“That’s perfect,” Ordo says.

“Alright, it’s right this way.” You gesture towards the main administrative building.

“Why don’t you help the others, Kal’buir? I’ll handle the questioning.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” Kal replies. He claps Ordo on the shoulder and then hurries over to another clone.

You wait for a moment, and then lead Ordo into the Admin building and to your office, which is on the first floor. You unlock the door and move to the side to let him in first, before you follow him into the room, and shut the door behind you.

“You can have a seat if you like. The chairs are softer than they look.” You offer as you walk around your desk and sink into your office chair.

Ordo’s gaze slides around your office. He takes in your degrees, family pictures, and the personal items that you’ve added to make this room yours. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting a therapist to be my soulmate. Especially based on how much singing you do.”

“Child Therapist and I like music.” You reply, “I did have to teach myself Mando’a to understand the song you keep singing though.”

He flashes a small smirk at you, “You’re a good singer.”

“Thank you.” You motion at the chair, “Please, have a seat.”

He drops into the chair and stretches his legs out in front of him. Ordo is incredibly handsome and he has a very nice voice. But you knew that already. “So, mesh’la,” He drawls, “What do you know about why I’m here?”

“Not much. I was told that the Senator’s son ran off, and that’s it.”

“Is that what you think happened?” Ordo asks, “That he ran off?”

“We are talking about young Brenton Whills, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“He’s been a regular in my office since he was enrolled here.” You say as you reach into your desk and pull out a thick file to place it on your desk.

“Problem student?”

“No, the opposite in fact. Academically speaking, he’s the perfect student. Intelligent, polite, and able to pick up new topics quickly. Socially, he’s very popular. Plays sports and is on the debate team—”

“And yet you say he’s a regular.”

“He’s an anxious kid. Something of a perfectionist.” You pause, “He hates it here.”

“Why?”

“Some kids just don’t like Boarding Schools, they don’t thrive under the structure and being away from their parents.” You explain, “I kind of got that impression from him.”

“So, in your professional opinion, he ran away.”

“This isn’t a prison, Ordo. If the kids want to leave we can’t stop them.”

“The Senator believes his son was kidnapped.”

“No.”

“He believes it a lot.”

“I’m sure he does, but that’s not what happened.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know Brenton. I know him better than his parents. And I’m telling you, he ran away.”

“You’re not worried about him?”

“Send someone to talk to his uncle. He owns a fishing trawler in town. Brenton spends his free time there.”

Ordo frowns and makes a note in his datapad.

“Ordo,” He lifts his head and looks at you, “Brenton has two adults in his life that he trusts, me and his uncle. I’d prefer it if your brother’s didn’t ruin that.”

“Noted.” He makes one more note in his datapad and then sets it on the table. “It’s too bad that the first time I met you was in the middle of a crisis.”

“Well, it’s not such a crisis, is it?”

Ordo chuckles and stands. For a moment, you think he’s going to leave, but instead, he walks around your desk and leans against it so that he’s on the same side of the desk as you. “Not so much of a crisis that they need me around.” He agrees.

You stand without being asked, and Ordo draws you closer to his body, his hands low on your hips as he pulls you to stand between his legs. You set your hands on his chest plate, one of your fingers lightly tracing the paint coloring his armor.

“I used to fantasize about what it would be like to meet you,” Ordo admits as one of his hands slides up your back and settles on the back of your neck.

“How’s this compare?” You ask as you lean in so you’re pressed flush against his armor.

“So much better,” Ordo replies with a laugh, “because you’re actually here.” He leans in so that his lips are hovering over yours.

“I thought that clones weren’t allowed to connect with their soul mates?” You ask in a whisper.

“We’re not allowed to do a lot of things,” Ordo replies, “Never stopped us before.” He scans your face for a moment, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Yes, plea—” You’re not able to finish your sentence as his lips crash against yours in a deep kiss. And it’s almost like something snaps into place. As though a piece of you that was missing is suddenly there.

And by the way that he’s clutching you, Ordo agrees.

He breaks the kiss, almost grudgingly, though he keeps you pressed tight against him. He’s tightly gripping your waist, and you can tell by the look on his face that he wants nothing more than to strip his armor off and claim you as his right here and now, but instead, he slowly releases you.

It’s not what you want, but Ordo slowly puts a little space between you. “We have a home on Mandalore.” He says, “Will you come with me?”

You hesitate, and then you smile at him, “Tell me where, and I’ll be there when I can.”

“Promise?”

“On my life.”

He flashes a small grin and kisses you quickly one more time. “Give me your comm code. I’m not giving you up now that I have you.”

As soon as you have his comm code, he leaves. Off to find the missing boy. But you, your elated grin doesn’t fade for hours.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #vodika-vibes 650 event #ordo skirata x reader #ordo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks #soulmate au

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bangtangalicious · 1 year

Text

placebo (m) | pjm (2)

pairing: jimin x reader, jungkook x reader, namjoon x reader (later)

summary: a microchip signals to you when you find someone compatible to be your soulmate. yours is the opposite of you in every way, and he doesn't even believe in soulmates

genre: 18+ romance, smut, angst, soulmate!au, dystopian backdrop, love triangle, romeo-juliet, opposites attract, grumpy-sunshine, fate versus destiny

premise: the soulmate initiative was a state program to promote healthy relationships. all citizens have a chip which signals to them when they find someone who meets their compatibility threshold. park jimin is a member of the resistance that aims to dismantle the state, as well as programs like this which rob free will. determined to love him no matter your differences, you fight for him despite the danger it puts both you and him in

wc: 8.5k || series masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

warnings: multiple & explicit smut scenes, lots of kissing good lord, penetrative sex, rough sex, love-making, emotional sex, public sex, oral (f rec), fingering, fondling, fluffy aftercare, jungkook sorta just walks in on you while showering so theres that, physical fighting (not mc), blackmail, a is for angst, crying, mention of family deaths, use of cigarettes, lying, jimin might be a tiny bit toxic if you squint

taglist: @tornparts @loona15 @effielumiere @agustdreamsblog @jnghs @dragons-flare @xiusmarshmallow @ratherbefangirling @infires-imagines @aretha170 @dvalitaes @kookiejeonie @ddaeng-angmoh @idk123906 @medievalpink5 @cuteipat @jimin-neverout @uarmyhore @natalie-rdr @secradee @tea4sykes @yawnkive

Indulgence. The ironic meeting spot of the resistance within the isolated Red District of the city. Neon lights flickering across inebriated eyes—eyes that dreamed of justice but currently were mesmerized by the dancers, embodying grace and allure, fluid movements, enticing glances, bodies telling tales of desire. Here they would congregate, removed from the prying eyes of society.

Jimin pushed open the heavy door, hit with the aromatic blend of perfume, whiskey, and sweat. An intoxicating haze. Across the room, Jin and the others sat, cigarettes lit and glasses clinking. A celebration of sorts—Jimin wondered why. They never invited him here. Frankly, he never cared to come either. It was a liability. Jimin was one of the few resistance members that continued to possess the state-mandated microchip. Him arriving in person to a banned establishment such as a strip club, put the entire area on the state’s radar.

Nevertheless, Jin texted him to come. So he obeyed.

“There he is” Jin greeted him from the comfort of the leather-clad booth. The light chatter diminishing as the others acknowledged him. Jimin took a seat, Jin handing him the cigarette right away.

As the smoke caressed his senses, a fleeting calm washed over him, a momentary escape from the chaos of the world. The world around him seemed to dim, and his mind went straight to you. How it felt so right to have your body hugged up against him when he rode you home. Your lips hovering over his neck, your scent, all of you overwhelming all of him. Speeding way beyond the limit at the edge of the night. No one to find you, no one to interfere.

In that moment the two of you were not soulmates. You were two people, high on the danger, adrenaline, and glimpse of a new beginning. You were alive.

Jimin’s lips curled in a subtle smile. The others could never know. He couldn’t imagine what they would do to you, if they knew. Jimin’s mere presence around you was a danger. The risk he took seeing you was worth it, for the thrill. But he knew better than to push his luck.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Across the table, Min Yoongi—a high ranked member who was like a mentor to his brother, teased. Jimin shrugged, tapping the ashtray. He wondered if any of them had felt the kind of high he had with you. Heart racing, fingers trembling, blood hot with desire.

“Jimin went to see his soulmate”

He blinked. Jin’s smile was wide—cocky. The whole table looked around in shock, exchanging looks of concern.

“Hyung what the hell” Jimin muttered under his breath. He didn’t know how Jin found out, probably had him followed. Fuck, he knew he shouldn’t have done it. He should have cut all contact with you the second he found out.

But he was too curious. Too drawn to your sweet taste that left scars on his lips. Was that selfish?

“Look,” Jin cleared his throat, “We’ve had come concerns about your commitment to the cause” Listening patiently, Jimin took another sharp inhale, letting the smoke dissipate through his lips. “You have an opportunity to prove your loyalty. Are you willing to do so?”

Willing. What a joke—Jimin mused. Technically, the resistance would never force actions on any of its members. But Jimin was a puppet and the strings of the fight for freedom chained him.

“Jimin’s soulmate also happens to be a scientist. Working on experiments for the Soulmate Initiative itself”

Jimin’s fists clenched, tempted like many other times to give Jin a solid punch to the face. A waitress approached the table. “Sir, this young woman was looking for you” She motioned to the entrance where you stood. Uncomfortable, scanning the foreign space.

Jimin exhaled, breath full of smoke, coughing out in shock. What the fuck were you doing here?

“Ah, she’s pretty, Jimin. If she were mine I’d probably buy into the soulmate crap just for a taste, although I’m assuming that’s what you’ve been doing huh” Jin teased. Jimin kicked his shin, not appreciating his flirty tone.

Setting down his cigarette, he immediately stood. Passing back an annoyed glare at Jin who simply chuckled.

Without a word he pulled you outside into the cold. The wind was crisp still—his leather jacket shielding him from it. And you were drowning in your puffy coat, knitted hat covering up to your eyelids.

Cute.

“Miss me already, doctor?” Jimin teased, trying his best to figure out why the hell you would have come here, and moreover how you would have known about this place.

You tugged at your sleeves, nose scrunching as you searched for words. He stared into your eyes. Your pretty, fucking gorgeous eyes that transfixed him like hypnosis. Eyes that said so much so loud, and yet he was dying to hear them. Jimin tried to fight it, the way every fiber of him was screaming to kiss you, fists clenching as he held himself back.

And then you bit your lip. So subtly, out of habit. But you did. And fuck.

Fuck.

Jimin lost it. He smashed his lips against yours. The taste he swore he was addicted to. Craving your lips, gasping, breathing you in. Hands cupping your face, forehead tilted against yours—he kissed you like your touch was all he needed to survive.

Maybe it was.

“Get off of me” You shoved him away. Jimin stared at you, stunned. “Asshole”

“Y/n—what?” He reached for your hand, but you pulled it away. Had he done something? His mind whirred, scanning through your entire evening. Every word he said, every move he made. He loved every second—and he thought you had too.

“Fuck you Jimin. I lost my job because of what you did” You gripped his jacket.

What the hell is she talking about? Jimin’s eyes softened. “You lost your job?”

His brows furrowed in confusion, until Jin’s words came echoing back. An opportunity to prove yourself.

They were testing him.

“You stole the data from the lab, didn’t you?”

Jimin’s nails dug into his palm as he took a deep breath.

“Yeah.” His response curt. He watched as tears began to spill from your eyes. His throat felt tight, chest pounding with regret.

“Why?”

“You know why, doctor”

“Did today mean nothing to you?” Your voice was small. Jimin stepped back, hand running through his hair. Lying to you felt wrong, but he had to do it. He had to lie to you. He had to destroy this before it began.

“Look, I don’t want to be in a relationship with you” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. The hurt in your eyes broke him a little. “I only went to see you because I had a job to do. I tricked you. That’s who I am”

This was for the best. So why did it feel so fucking horrible?

You shook your head furiously, “You’re lying”

“If you had a mind of your own, you wouldn’t even want to be in a relationship with someone like me anyway. That’s how I know it’s bullshit. They’re controlling you”

“No” You were stubborn, “No, I know you feel it too”

Jimin wanted to break. Shatter into a million pieces and get whisked away by the wind. His heart ached, bliss was only a truth away.

“Of course I fucking feel it, there’s a chip in my fucking neck telling me to” Jimin snapped, grabbing your waist, “And god does it feel good. So fucking good, I want to kiss you so fucking bad whenever I see you. But that’s all it is. I’m not in love with you Y/n—I can’t be”

You stepped away from him, evidently shaking. Jimin felt awful—sick to his core. Each tear streaming down your face was a bullet to his heart. A punch to the face. He wished the ground would swallow him whole. This was his fault—he shouldn’t have entertained you, not for a second. You should hate him, and he knew you probably wouldn’t because of the damn microchip. Which was the most frustrating part.

“Y/n are you done?”

Jimin turned to see Jungkook pull up in a small electric car. His glasses were foggy, hair a shaggy mess over his long coat.

“Glasses. Always a pleasure”

“Shut the fuck up man” Jungkook parked the car, stepping out to rush past him, taking you into his arms. Jimin crossed his arms over his chest, watching as Jungkook wiped your tears away before leading you into the car.

You turned back, one last time. He wondered if you could read his eyes. If you could, he was screaming out to you.

Fists balled up in fury, he stormed back inside the club. Jin stood by the window, amused by the whole ordeal. Slow applause filled his ringing ears as Jin approached him, patting him on his back.

“Well done. Almost wasn’t sure you had it in you”

Jimin had enough. He felt disgusting. Venom through his veins as his throat felt heavy with guilt. He was sick and tired of Jin. Sick and tired of the resistance dictating his every move. Holding their money over his head—he could be fine on his own. He could go off, get a job somewhere and fend for himself. Maybe he could get a scholarship to keep studying, he would never know. Under the guise of his brother’s wishes, how much was he expected to sacrifice?

With a surge of adrenaline, he lunged forward, fists clenched, aiming towards his Jin’s jaw. The music stopped. People gathered around, watching intently. Jimin’s eyes fuming with rage.

“You forget who the fuck I am?” Jimin sneered, “You’re out of line.”

Jin chuckled darkly, touching his bruise before standing back upright. “Oh come on, you don’t actually care about her. You barely know the bitch” Jimin swung at him again, but Jin dodged him move, forearm intercepting to twist him back. Jimin proceeded to kick back into his gut.

“Call her a bitch again, see what happens.” Jin landed on the floor, grunting as Jimin towered over him, “Get her her fucking job back Jin”

Jin wasn’t backing down. He punched Jimin back, the clash of their fists echoed through the silent room. Blow after blow exchanged, the impact reverberating through their bodies, fueling their determination.

“Where the fuck would you go?” Jin laughed between strikes, “She will never forgive you now. I you both a favor”

Jin dodged another swift punch, retaliating with a swift kick to his Jimin’s abdomen. Jimin staggered backward, but quickly regained his footing, launching himself back at him.

“You can’t love her Jimin, even if you wanted to” Jin rammed Jimin against the wall, trapping his throat with his elbow. Attempting to reason with him. “A part of you would always wonder. I know you kid. You have a duty to your brother”

“You’re the reason my brother is dead” Jimin hissed, trying to push Jin off but to no avail. They stood, chests heaving, their eyes locked with an intense spite.

“Okay enough” Yoongi interrupted, rolling his eyes. He held Jimin’s shoulder before nodding to Jin to let him go. “Jin, please get the poor girl her job back. That’s an order. And Jimin, the resistance core will be in touch about a character review. Stay away from the scientist—you know the rules”

You—

At some point it began to rain. Standing still, cold droplets seeping through your coat made you shiver. A welcome sensation, numbing the pain in your chest.

Jungkook unlocked your apartment before pulling you into his chest. You sobbed into him as he pressed his lips on top of your head.

"You poor thing, let’s get you into the shower"

He was sweet, handing you towels, laying out a pair of dry clothes for you. The hot vapor of the shower forcing you relax, forcing you to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. You slid to the floor, the shower pouring down on your back. Hot water scalding against your head. Hugging your knees to your chest.

You hear the shower door slide open, not reacting as your voice dried into soft sobs. Jungkook hovered over you, clothes getting wet at the edge of the water. Instead of focusing on the fact that you were completely naked, soaking wet in front of him, he looked into your eyes. Worried.

Finally, he crawled into the tiny space, sitting down by your side. His large hands caressing your hunched shoulders. You met his gaze. Grateful for him, as always.

God why couldn't it have been him? Such a perfect piece to your missing puzzle. His hair began to curl up in front of his eyes, dewy as he shook the water away. He was so close. So warm. Lips so soft, so near.

He smiled, and you could tell his thoughts mirrored yours. Eyes scanning over your face, your body, before he looked away. A disappointment in his eyes.

"I told you he was no good" Jungkook muttered, a hint of bitterness.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the way the water flowed over your head, down onto your eyelids, dripping off onto your face. Your boss, Dr. Jung had texted you—the data was missing. All of it, your years of work grinding through your degree. Jimin had stolen all of it. Inviting himself into your lab under the guise of wanting to give you a chance. It was a lie. You could barely fathom that soulmates could lie to one another. Let alone hurt them so deeply. Your fingers trembled, pressed between your knees.

“If I had been his type.” You confessed, laughing slightly, “Or somehow better, then he might have believed just a little bit that we were actually meant to be together, and maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t have betrayed me”

“Bullshit” Jungkook said quietly, “It’s not you. It’s how he was raised”

You knew he was right. Ever logical, Jungkook never entertained pointless theory. He looked at the facts—and the fact was that you finally met your soulmate. And he was part of the resistance, a group built around free will. Something they claim the state denies through programs such as the Soulmate Initiative.

“Y/n” Jungkook interrupted your thoughts, “Have you ever considered that Jimin just may not want a soulmate at all?”

You stared at Jungkook. Picking at your nails nervously as you considered his question. There were no laws that forced soulmates to be together. It was usually the case that they simply chose to do so. It was logical, to you. Be with the person you are compatible with—the person who can love you and make you happy. Complete you like no one else can. You thought back to your “date” with him. The way you felt so incredibly safe with him. The amazing adrenaline rush you felt holding onto him for dear life as he raced on his motorcycle. The look in his eyes after he kissed you.

Those were facts. That was real.

“When I first saw Jimin and knew, I found myself wishing I hadn’t looked” You placed your hand over Jungkook’s.

Jungkook stared blankly at the floor. Body tensing at your words.

“Well” Turning off the shower, he stared at you, at your body. “I never looked anywhere but at you” Frozen in place, his throat tight, cheeks blushing.

You stared at him, bewildered.

His fingers trapped your jaw, before allowing his lips to slide onto yours. You groaned into his mouth, as his other hand rested on your thigh. Gripping at your skin.

As your lips touched, a surge of conflicting emotions coursed through your veins. For years this was all you wanted. Him—just like this. Wanting you just as bad. Time stood still as your mouths delicately met, exploring each other, evoking a rush of feeling. Of comfort.

But what it felt like with Jimin was different. Something you couldn’t quite make sense of. Logic was misaligned, but Jimin felt incredible to kiss. His smile made you giddy with happiness.

As Jungkook pulled away, a mixture of confusion and clarity settled upon you. You missed Jimin, despite it all. Your heart may not be ready to forgive, but you weren’t ready to give up either. There had to be more to the story. You simply refused to believe your soulmate would ever put you in harms way.

“Forget about him” Jungkook urged almost knowingly, voice trying desperately to push out your infiltrative thoughts. His nose tracing yours, “Just forget him”

He slid his lips onto yours again, this time with more intensity. You could feel without a doubt that he wanted you. As you fell back onto the cold shower floor, Jungkook’s hand cushioning your head. His eyes locked shut—but yours wide open.

You groaned in surprise, attempting to push his large frame away. He got the hint, lifting you back up.

“Let me stay with you tonight” Jungkook pleaded, grabbing a towel and wrapping it over your shoulders. “So you don’t have to be alone”

You couldn’t say no. It hurt too much.

You woke up in Jungkook’s arms, his hands on your stomach, and your back against his chest. Carefully you tried to move your legs which were wedged between his.

He groaned, feeling you move. Tightening his hold and pulling you back to him. You felt your breath escape you as Jungkook’s prominent boner pressed into your thigh. You were a scientist. A biologist—so you knew these things were perfectly normal. But you couldn’t help the way your stomach erupted into butterflies.

“Morning,” Jungkook reached out, stretching cutely. “That was the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while” He confessed, nuzzling against your neck. “You sleep okay?”

Your heart hammered in your chest. He was being incredibly sweet-addictively so, and you wanted to give in.

“Yeah I did, thanks” You leaned into his touch, his lips warm and sloppy against your nape. You couldn’t help the soft moan leaving your lips as his hands slid over your stomach. Threatening to go higher.

“You smell so good” He muttered lazily. A small smile painted your lips. Your phone began to vibrate. Checking the screen, you raised your eyebrows.

“Dr. Jung?”

“Y/n, it seems as though the data were returned,” He sounded annoyed, per usual, “You must have some great connections because I’ve been ordered to re-employ you, but best believe if you bring another stranger into my lab again—”

“Oh, uh. N-Never, sir”

The man hung up. You blinked slowly, processing. “I got my job back”

Jungkook’s smile widened, “That’s great—”

“Jimin did this,” You stood up urgently, interrupting Jungkook, “I have to find him”

“Y/n” Jungkook grabbed your arm before you could run off. “He doesn’t want you. He made that clear”

You shook your head, “I can’t give up. I deserve love, and so does he”

Jimin—

The resistance core was furious once they caught wind of Jimin’s actions. He was to be put in front of the resistance core council to debate his allegiance. Jimin couldn’t care less. Perhaps this was the escape—you were the escape, the chance he needed to get out and find his own destiny. Course, you were gone. You wouldn’t be able to forgive him, hell, Jimin wouldn’t want you to.

You were probably with Jungkook. He wondered if you liked Jungkook back since he clearly liked you. Maybe he comforted you. Maybe the two of you slept together.

Jimin wanted to vomit.

“Jimin” The council head spoke after some silence, reviewing the documented complaints, “We believe in free will. If you don’t want to support us, the cause that your brother gave so much to, to avenge the death of your family, that is your prerogative. However if you intend to stay with us, you must agree to never make contact with The Scientist ever again”

Nodding, Jimin gulped. He figured as much.

“We realize the pull of the Soulmate Initiative is tough to resist. And we do want you to be happy. So if you really do want to be with The Scientist, you can do so if she leaves her job and is willing to cooperate with us”

He couldn’t do that to you. No way.

Jimin had to decide. Jin was right, if he left he didn’t have anywhere to go. Not a penny to his own name. He did want to see change. At least here, he was able to make an impact. Here, his existence had some meaning.

“I won’t contact her again. I am grateful for the council’s mercy”

On his bike, he had no direction. No sense of where he was going—but he drove on. Fast, dangerously swerving the roads. He couldn’t talk to you, but he could check up on you at least. No, that would be far too painful.

Tears built in his eyes, clouding his vision. Bringing his motorcycle to a stop on the edge of the highway, he cried. A child denied a toy, he cried because he missed you. Because his body wanted you and he had to deny it. Deny you. Everything stripped away from him—his family, brother and now you. Was there a point to any of it?

“Are you alright?” A car halted—large white SUV, clearly indicating a state official. The window was tainted black, bulletproof. As it rolled down, Jimin could see a pair of eyes. It was a man. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Yeah, I’m good”

He rode to campus, soul void. Studying was a proven distraction to his hopeless reality. After all, he couldn’t afford to sulk around. He had to keep moving. As he walked towards the law library, he saw you. You saw him. The two of you frozen in time.

Until you were running. Running to him with your arms open and he caught you, swinging you up with the momentum, hand behind your head as he hugged you into him. Nirvana. Instinct, taking in all you were—your scent, the heat from your body—until he realized he was touching you and pushed you away.

“I got my job back” You were elated, brimming with excitement. Jimin wanted to kiss every inch of your smiling face. A warm feeling erupting from your happiness.

“Glad to hear it, doctor” He remained stoic, nevertheless. He needed you to give up. Needed you to get away.

“You care about me, you did this”

Jimin sighed. Why did his soulmate have to be the most stubborn woman on the fucking planet—he didn’t know.

“I don’t care about you”

“Stop fighting me” You pleaded, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them. “Look I’m sure you had your reasons for doing what you did. We can move past this”

“I already told you I don’t want this”

You stepped forward, face inched away from his, a fiery determination in your eyes.

“Really?” You tilted your face, squinting at him. Jimin nodded, eyebrows raised.

You stroked his face, just as he had done to you many times. He was stiff, taken aback by your forwardness. Without thinking, you pushed yourself onto your toes so you could melt into a kiss. You knew he could feel it, down to his bones—nothing was more right in the world than when you were in his arms, lips on his. No moral compass could keep you apart in those moments, Jimin was merely a servant, a fool bending to your magnetism and he would give up everything in an instant to feel like this forever.

His lips parted, letting you slip your tongue in. Widening your jaw to deepen the kiss. Tender in his actions, taming his need. Savoring every second.

Tears rolled down his face. If this was the last time he’d ever see you, he wanted it all. Forehead pressed against yours, his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, breathing barely inches away. Panting. Heart pounding.

“I can’t” You could feel his words, spoken upon your lips. Tone serious. No teasing, no flirting, just straight. “They won’t let me”

He stared at you a beat longer. Before grabbing your wrist, dragging you behind the library to an alleyway near the dumpsters. He pressed you against the wall, gripping your waist firmly.

He dove into your neck, fluttering kisses all over. Fingers trailing up your sides to where he grabbed your wrists, stretching them to either side of you. Movement urgent, frantic—you were his kryptonite, and he was unraveling at the seams.

Your fingers intertwined with his, as he nipped at your jaw. Breathing heavily, you attempted to call out his name but no voice came. Instead a soft moan. His fingers tightened around yours as he pulled away, staring into your eyes.

Silence. Only the sounds of both of you desperately trying to catch your breath. Flushed and bewildered.

“You should leave” Jimin’s voice was coarse. Deeper than usual, “Go”

He didn’t move. Neither did you. You challenged him, gaze unwavering. Waiting to see what he would do next.

It was as if something inside of him snapped. Something feral, raw, suppressed. Instantly he released your hands, fumbling to unbutton your pants. He yanked them down just enough before doing so to himself. Fingers softly gliding over your folds, barely teasing. He grabbed your hips, lifting you up against the wall before yanking your panties aside. Biting his lip, focused. You watched, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, as his cock teased your entrance.

“Tell me to stop” He growled. “Tell me right fucking now doctor”

You shook your head, sliding your hand to his jaw. Blinking you stared into his lust shot eyes, eyelids fluttering, hazy with desire.

He sank into you slowly, letting out a low groan into your neck. Hands holding you steady, he was patient. Despite the heated urgency of his actions. There was not a thought in his head. Not a thought in yours. Nothing but raw need as he felt your hot walls tighten around him.

Jimin’s nose traced yours as he began to move in and out. Bouncing you up against the wall while your hands ran through his hair, scratching at him. Grabbing fistfuls and tugging his head back. He was so deep, so full inside you. The drag of his cock against your walls had you seeing stars. Rolling your eyes back, you wanted to scream.

“Ssh, be quiet for me doctor” Jimin kissed your lips playfully, lingering as he continued to fuck into you. He rolled his hips, pushing you up with every thrust, fingers digging into the bottom of your ass.

He let you onto your feet, pulling out so he could turn you around. Your hands up against the wall, his wrapped around your chest, shamelessly grabbing at you over your coat. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel you. Unzipping the damned thing he tossed it aside, enveloping you to keep you from the cold.

Finally his hands could slip under your sweater, pushing it up to the tops of your chest, tits sensitive to his touch. Hooking his jaw over your shoulder he watched as he squeezed your breasts, caressing them fondly.

Jimin pressed his lips against your collar, digging in his teeth. Keeping a hand on your chest, he slid back into you from behind, this time immediately rocking his hips steady into you. You arced your back, reaching back to grab his hair again. The slippery echoes of your cunt getting louder as his thrusts intensified.

Pressing you up even closer to the wall, he let one hand dive in front of you, fingers gliding over your clit. His touch was gentle, reaching exactly where you needed him to. And he could tell. Smiling against the back of your head as he felt you beginning to tremble. Wetness seeping as his cock nudged in further, finger rapidly circling your clit right there. Pushing you closer and closer to your edge.

Nothing but red. Red heat building inside of you, toes curling, lungs clenching—you couldn’t breathe. His body so close, the warmth against the cold air. You bucked forward, body spasming, twitching all over. He didn’t waver, he kept going, finger working you through your orgasm. Biting back moans as you tightened around his cock. Your wetness seeping through, soaking him.

Cursing, he pulled out, afraid he was going to lose himself in the sweet sensation of you. Turning you back around he pulled your thighs apart, sliding his cock against your clit, causing you to wince.

“Fuck, come here” He gritted, pulling you into another kiss. His hand tugging at his cock. He spilled into his palm, letting out a deep moan.

Finding steadiness, he cleaned himself up, zipping up his pants as you did the same. Grabbing your coat from the ground, he handed it to you.

As he was doing so, you noticed the bruises on his skin.

“Jimin—are you hurt?” You touched him again, causing him to flinch. “When did this happen?”

“Don’t” He warned. “Just go”

“Can I at least bandage you—my place isn’t too far from here, come on okay” You grabbed his wrist, tugging him along. Jimin stood firm in his ground.

“Why can’t you fuck off”

You turned back at him, “Fine, let me do this and then you can go—I won’t bother you again”

Jimin looked at you skeptically, but chose to go along regardless. He followed you through campus, the snow beginning to melt away—spring was nearing. He could see tiny flower buds on bushes, birds chirping in the distance. Your apartment was cozy. A smaller building, you were on the top floor. Frazzled, you fumbled with your keys to get in, and Jimin was hardly surprised to see the haphazard shape your place was in—textbooks, papers everywhere.

“Sorry about the mess”

Jimin was a neat freak himself. Nevertheless, he swallowed his irks and let you lead him into your bedroom. He scanned the walls, aside from some nerdy science posters there wasn’t much there. He noticed your shelf of romance novels, as well as a copy of Dr. Kim Namjoon’s memoir.

You pulled off his jacket, then his shirt. His toned muscles littered with purple. The bruises causing your eyes to widen. Jimin couldn’t help but smirk. They weren’t watching anymore—no harm in teasing you a little.

“Like what you see doc?”

You blushed, meeting his eyes before immediately returning to your task. “No—I mean, yeah you look great. Not your bruises—those don’t look good at all, but here let me just—” You found a first aid kit under your bed. Grabbing some gauze and alcohol, you began to tend to his wounds. He watched as you kneeled in front of him, focus lasered onto the task at hand.

Jimin grabbed your jaw suddenly, overwhelmed by your tender care. Pulling your face to his. You blinked at him, stunned as he kissed you softly. Humming against your mouth. More relaxed, at ease, as if he had all the time in the world.

“Jimin let me—mmpfh” He didn’t let you finish. He didn’t want to hear another word. Pulling you into his lap, he slid your own coat to the floor. Not leaving your lips for a second.

“No” You squealed, giggling slightly. “No more until you let me clean your wounds”

Jimin pouted, looking to you with puppy eyes. “But you’re my doctor aren’t you—and this makes me feel good”

“I thought you wanted to leave” You taunted him right back. He grinned, enjoying the way you were pushing him.

“I’m not in a rush” His eyes darkened, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“You don’t ever have to leave, you know” You offered. “They can’t hurt you here”

Jimin raised his eyebrows, “The resistance you mean? Why are you gonna take them all on your own?” He nudged you playfully. You shrugged.

“I could use my evil science powers”

Jimin laughed. Laughed in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Why did he want to leave so badly—why did he have to push you away? Could he dare to hope that you two could survive anything—it seemed unrealistic. Cliché. But here he was, dumb in love with you despite his best efforts.

Wait what.

Jimin gulped, growing serious all of a sudden as he continued to stare at you. You rose from his lap, a goofy smile on your face as you packed up the first aid kit.

“You said they won’t let you…were you talking about the resistance? Will they not let you be with me? Because I’m your soulmate” He watched as you wandered into your kitchen.

“It’s not because you’re my soulmate. It’s your job” Jimin responded, “But I also don’t believe in this soulmate stuff, which you know”

“Well clearly you do when it helps you get laid” You joked. He knew you were joking, but it wasn’t funny to him. His physical attraction to you was feverish, and it concerned him that he might be taking advantage of you. Getting benefits of a commitment he was unwilling to make. You returned, noticing his serious aura. “Jimin—it’s fine. You told me you don’t want me, anything that happened after was my choice”

You don’t want me. Of course he wanted you. How could he not want you—you were perfect. You were suffocatingly stubborn, clingy, messy and absolutely clueless but you were perfect. And you would fight to the ends of the earth for what you believed in, while Jimin wasn’t sure if he believed in anything anymore.

“I’d never ask you to leave your job. But they own me, Y/n. I really can’t do anything about it. I didn’t even steal your data. They did, and they made me take the fall for it so that you’d hate me and leave me alone”

“I will leave you alone Jimin, if I think that’s what you actually want” You held his hand firmly, “But I have a tough time thinking that’s true”

Jimin looked at you. The glimmer of hope in your eyes. “Even if they allowed it, that doesn’t change the fact that we’re inherently not compatible”

“We are compatible. We’re soulmates. You do what you have to do for the resistance, I won’t interfere and I would never sell you out”

“What if my job forces me to damage something you believe in though?”

You sighed deeply. Jimin could tell you didn’t know the answer. Despair began to weigh down on you both, how unlucky must you be to have been matched to someone like him. He wanted to be the man you deserved, but he wasn’t. Plain and simple.

“I like you, Jimin” You confessed instead. “I think you’re great. I want you. You’re in my dreams, I can’t not think about you. Even when Jungkook kissed me I,”

Jimin’s grip on your hand loosened. “Jungkook kissed you?”

“It didn’t mean anything! He was just trying to comfort me, I think”

He put his hands up in defense, “I’m not upset with you doctor—I get it. He’s cute”

You made a face, “You make fun of him”

Jimin winked, “You can be lame and cute at the same time. You are”

“You think I’m lame?”

“I think you’re a nerd” He confessed, matter of factly. You punched him playfully before sliding your lips onto his. He pulled you against his chest, holding you tenderly. “Prettiest fucking nerd, but nerd nonetheless”

You giggled against his lips. He kissed you again and again, smiling in between and it was everything. Jimin couldn’t even fathom that you were real. A real person in his arms making him so happy—elated about the future in a way he was sure he’d never been before. You were everything. The start of everything.

Falling onto his back, you climbed over him, lips not parting for even a moment. His hands gripping at the hem of your sweater before you allowed him to pull it over your head. He admired you, lips swollen in nothing but your baby blue sports bra.

He let his fingers trail over the fabric, drawing light circles and watching the way you twitched under him. You gasped, unconsciously rolling your hips against him. The look on your face was priceless, biting down on your lip hard as you tried to tame down your sensitivity. Adorable, how you thought Jimin couldn’t tell. That he couldn’t read your body like the back of his hand. Finally you grabbed his wrists, stopping his movements so that you could pull off your bra. Your breasts popping out—Jimin lay dumbfounded, eyes glued to your body.

You looked at him, shy. Jimin exhaled shakily, unsure how to capture his amazement. He wanted to touch—so fucking bad. You rose carefully, sliding down you trousers until you were left in your panties. Then those dropped to the floor.

“Fucking hell doctor, you’re gonna give me a heart attack” He stood up, unzipping his own pants where his bulge was painful, burning between his legs. Kicking the garments aside, his hands hovered over your waist—barely touching. Waiting for your signal.

“You’re beautiful”

Jimin’s ears burned at your words, blush across his face. You looked at him with awe. His heart fluttered, realizing he had never really been complimented on his looks before, merely his ability to fight.

“Can I touch you?” His voice was raspy, barley audible. Lust seized every fiber of him. “Please let me fucking touch you”

You nodded, and Jimin wasted not one more second grabbing your hips, sliding his hands to your ass where he squeezed you as his lips locked with yours.

Laying you down on the bed, his lips trailed every inch of your skin from your toes, up your calves, down your thighs. Loving the way you twitched and moaned at his every move. Riling you up, he wanted to see you fall apart under him. His fingers found your clit again, palm rolling under your folds. You grinded on his wrist, fingers helplessly clutching the sheets beneath you.

Dropping to his knees, he spread your thighs, admiring your glistening folds. You bucked your hips as he traced them—trying desperately to shut your legs but he overpowered you.

“Jimin I’ve never—I don’t know if that’s such a good” He shushed you sweetly, looking deep into your eyes. Kissing the insides of your thigh, he worked he way to your pussy. Slow, patient, kissing the edge of your folds as you squealed.

“It’s okay baby, I want to” He promised, and you believed him. His hand caressing your thigh to ease the tension before he slipped in his tongue. Eyes not leaving yours for a second. It was incredibly intimate. He seemed to consume you, in a white-hot blaze of adoration. You reached for him, sitting up to grab a fistful of his hair. The pull turned him on even more, his tongue flicking faster, eating you out for all you were worth.

“Jimin” You panted, “Ohh fuck” He continued to fuck his tongue inside of you, drinking up your essence. His wet tongue hot, deep in your core where you could feel his every move—driving you crazy. Your eyes dazed, frazzled beyond belief. Lips parted as your eyes rolled back with pleasure.

Coming up for air, he licked his lips, savoring your taste. You stared at him with blasted eyes as he crawled up to your face so he could kiss you again.

“Thank you” Jimin chuckled at your words.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. It’s my fucking pleasure”

“Should I do you?”

He shook his head. If he didn’t pound his cock inside you right now, he swore he was going to implode.

“Open up for me baby, yeah?” He lined his cock up with your soaked cunt. Slowly, inch by inch he began to slide in. You bit down on your lips hard, until blood trickled out. Jimin licked it right up, tongue teasing your lips before sliding into your mouth. He bottomed out, lips glued to yours, groaning into you. Propped up on his forearms, he gave you a moment to adjust. He felt so good—shafted deep inside you. You clenched around him obscenely tight, he was seeing stars. You were a dizzy hurricane, and he wanted to be swept up by you. Destroyed until there was nothing left.

“You feel so good” He buried his face into your neck, “Fuck baby, so fucking good for me. You feel okay baby? Can I move?”

“Y-yeah” At your green light, Jimin carefully pulled out. Back in, tight thrusts beginning to pick up in pace. Dotting your face with kisses between each one. He swore he was losing consciousness, vision blurred with desperation—craving of you. Heart pounding as pleasure wiped through his nerves.

Hooking your leg over his shoulder, he adjusted his angle, hitting you even deeper. Your cunt coating him, the sound and smell of sex driving Jimin feral. His hands grabbing your breasts, wanting you to be stimulated—to feel as good as he was.

“Fuck baby, I don’t ever want to leave” His mind was void. Reason out the door as he spewed nonsense. “I’ll leave it all for you baby, leave it all for this fucking cunt—oh God”

“Don’t leave” You responded, disoriented by his pace. “Don’t ever leave me”

“I won’t baby, fuck, I’m never leaving” He kissed you firmly, letting your leg fall to the side. He stared into your eyes, foreheads touching as he drove his cock in deep. “You like it baby? You want my big fucking cock, yeah?”

You nodded furiously as he taunted you. The pout in your lips sending him overboard. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum so fucking hard—you’re so fucking hot, my pretty girl—where do you want me? Want me to cum on your face?”

“Please” You gasped as he pulled out, tugging his cock as he kneeled tall over you, letting his cum squirt down onto your eyelids. He groaned, taken by the sensation and by how sexy you looked covered in his cum like that. Ropes of cum streaming out as his hips bucked, hot pleasure seizing him.

“Fuckk” He collapsed onto you, burying his face into your chest. Rolling onto your sides, you caressed his head against you. He looked up at you, nothing but fondness in his eyes. Wiping the cum off of you with his discarded t-shirt.

The two of you lay in silence, simply adoring one another. Jimin pulled you into his arms, grabbing your comforter so the two of you could slide under. He stroked your back softly, fingers trailing up and down your spine. Naked legs tangling. Fitting against each other like a puzzle. He kissed your forehead as you buried your face into his chest.

“You okay?” He asked after some time, massaging your shoulders gently. You peered up at him, content and blissed.

“This is really nice” You whispered, trying to hide your smile. Jimin held your chin steady, preventing you from turning away.

“You’re so cute” He muttered, landing another peck to your lips. It never got old, he swore he could kiss you forever. “I—”

He stiffened, unsure if he was ready to say it. It was too soon, and he still lacked the answers of how the two of you could possibly work, and you must have known because you simply chuckled.

“I know. Me too”

You—

The lab had always been your safe space. The comfort of the chunky white lab coats, latex-free gloves and goggles. Your protection. Your serenity. As you went about your trials, Jungkook sat at the bench next to yours, typing away at his computer.

“What are you working on?” The silence was too loud. Things felt awkward with Jungkook. You knew you couldn’t tell him you hooked up with Jimin. Even though, in your eyes, you did the right thing. Your first time with Jimin was rushed. Unexpected. But so was he. In the most flawed way, he was somehow perfect. You knew he was scared of what he felt. Scared to question what he believed, but in that moment all he wanted was you and he was sure to let you know that. Second time was bliss. And you were so excited to go home to him. Excited for every amazing night to come. You wanted to tell Jungkook everything, but wasn’t sure he would appreciate knowing the intimate details of your love life.

“I’m finding your compatibility results”

You swerved, “What?” Kicking your chair so it rolled next to Jungkook’s. You scanned his screen, seeing him type in some code. “How?”

“I have my ways” He assured you, “I just want to get to the bottom of this, you deserve better”

“Jungkook, that might not be necessary anymore actually because…”

“Here!” Your attention redirected to his screen. He clicked on a file, opening a scanned proposal. Scrolling through, he finally found your name. “Y/n L/n, age, birthday, la da da” Humming, he searched the data for a clue.

“Well?” You tapped your fingers against the desk.

“Uh” Jungkook gulped, “Interesting.”

“What? What is it?”

Jungkook looked at you, almost as though he were debating what to say next. “Y/n, do you really love him?”

“We’re getting there” He raised his eyebrows, “I mean, we—are making progress”

Jungkook read between your words. Shutting his laptop, he sighed. “Nevermind”

“Jungkook—what the fuck did it say?”

“Jimin isn’t listed as your soulmate. You don’t have anyone listed”

Your throat felt dry. “What?”

“You were in the placebo cohort”

You stared at him. The placebo cohort. Meaning—what?

“I’m sorry, Y/n”

“No there’s some other explanation” You shook your head, “Jimin and I had a rough start but. He’s kind. Dedicated. He’s had a rough go of it—I don’t know his story but I can just tell. He’s insightful, and isn’t afraid to challenge me. He understands me too, even in this short time. He’s sweet. And he wants me just as bad as I want him”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Jungkook looked appalled, “You’re delusional, Y/n. He said he didn’t want you, explicitly. He’s lied to you many times,”

“The chip doesn’t alter our emotions, it only gives us the signal. I know what I feel Jungkook—it has to be him”

“Placebo cohort’s get the signal, but the compatibility test wasn’t actually run so it’s signaling that some random person you’re not actually compatible with is your soulmate. To see if the computability part actually matters, or if simply thinking someone is your soulmate is enough”

It couldn’t be. You felt nauseous, as though everything around you was spinning. Time and time again Jimin had told you to back off. That what you were feeling wasn’t real when you believed so strongly it was. Nothing about it made sense.

Suddenly Jimin’s flaws glared at you—he was in the resistance, fighting against the very peace you upheld. He was a violent person. He hung out with shady people in banned places. He broke rules which you followed no matter what. He smoked. He rode a motorcycle. He didn’t believe you were his soulmate—and you weren’t.

But you loved him.

And he, probably, loved you too.

Was the placebo effect real then? Did you fall in love just because you thought you were supposed to? If you never had the signal—never had the chip—would you have been able to look past your differences, and find what you did?

He had only just begun to believe. This would crush him.

“You have to tell him” Jungkook echoed your thoughts. You frowned, he was clearly deriving some joy from the fact that he was right about Jimin.

“Does this mean someone else out there is actually my soulmate? More compatible with me than Jimin?”

“Most likely” Jungkook confirmed, “Only way to know is to reset your chip. And only Dr. Kim himself can do that”

You turned to your calendar. The conference was only a few days away. What were you supposed to tell Jimin in the meanwhile? Should you avoid seeing him? Should you ignore this and just love him anyway?

“I-I gotta go” You scrambled to gather your things. Rushing to take a bus home, you barged into your apartment. Eyes wide as you noticed the entire place had been cleaned up. Nose twitching to the scent of something cooking—something delicious.

Jimin smiled warmly upon seeing you. You had left before he woke up, leaving him sound asleep with a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning doctor” He continued to go about his cooking. He looked adorable, sleepy hair and shirtless, cracking eggs into a pan. You wanted to cover him with kisses, “Hope you don’t mind, just thought I’d whip up some food. Aren’t you supposed to be at the lab?”

“I, yeah I uh”

“Oh taste this” Jimin took a spoon of some sauce he had made and quickly made his way over to you. Slipping the spoon in your mouth, your eyes widened as flavor burst in your mouth.

“Jimin” You mumbled as he took the spoon out, stealing a quick kiss. “Fuck that’s so spicy Jimin”

“Not your thing, doctor?” He pouted, “Damn, I love spicy food”

Your heart dropped. He’s not your soulmate. You’re not compatible.

He seemed to notice your unusual behavior.

“Hey baby, it’s okay. It’s just food preferences, not the end of the world”

“Jimin, we’re” You cleared your throat. “We’re not—”

“Oh, are you upset that I’m still here? Don’t worry I have class in the afternoon, I’ll be out of your way” Grabbing your hands he pulled you into a hug. Swaying your body left to right, you wanted to melt.

“Jimin” Your voice was breaking. Tears welling in your eyes.

“I know we don’t have everything figured out baby” He hummed against you. Pressing his lips on top of your head, “But for once, I think, I believe it’ll work out”

You broke.

Shattered into tears. You couldn’t possibly do this to him, not after everything you already put him through. How the hell were you supposed to tell the man you’d chased relentlessly that you weren’t supposed to be together?

“Baby,” Jimin held your face in his hands, searching with concern “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t breathe. Sobs blocking your air. Chest tight.

“Hey, easy baby” Jimin held your hand, guiding you to sit down on your bed. He knelt down by your side. Pressing his lips onto your knuckles. Across your wrist.

The odds were unlikely. But there was a slim chance that despite being a placebo match, he may actually still somehow be compatible with you. He may still be your real soulmate. You should wait until you knew for sure.

“I’m okay, sorry I just, got emotional” You wiped your tears away, chuckling. Jimin didn’t look like he quite believed you, but decided not to push it.

“Don’t apologize, doctor” He kissed your knee, “As long as you’re okay”

“Jimin”

“Yeah baby?”

“No matter what happens,” You sniffled, “I believe in you”

Jimin chuckled, stroking your face, “Babe what has gotten into you? Did Jungkook say something—I can beat that fucker to a pulp if he did, I am a vigilante after all”

You smiled. Because the man in front of you was dazzling. Despite the fights. Despite your differences. If this wasn’t true love, you weren’t sure you wanted whatever that was. This was all you needed. He was all you needed.

Which is why you owed it to him to be honest.

“We’re not actually soulmates”

Jimin simply blinked.

“It was a placebo, where the chip signals but we aren’t actually compatible. So the basis for everything we felt—or everything we think we feel, was a lie”

Silence. So haunting and so obscenely loud, you weren’t sure you’d survive it.

series masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

a/n: HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3 i tried lmao, but plsssssss let me know what you think ive never written anything like this and wanna know what your reactions are!!! ask questions, give me your theories, any and all of it! <3 have a wonderful day cuties~

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lettersfromaphrodite · 1 year

Text

[11.11]

― pairing : Chris x Fem! Reader ― content warnings : wolf AU, Chris is a wolf, reader is a witch, soulmates, medieval settings, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 3.939

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🐺🔮 WOLVES! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris part one | part two // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho part one | part two // Felix // Jeongin

Quickly spinning on your heels, you hastily hid yourself behind an oak tree, your heavy cape hugging your frame and its cape successfully hiding your face from the woods' prying eyes. “Damn King going on a hunt when I need to gather herbs,” you thought, annoyed. With a harsh tug, you freed the part of your dress that was stuck in a lump of roots near your feet, an annoyed whiff escaping your lips.

«Gowns are impractical.» your witch Mentor told you, many years ago. «Unpractical but stylish.» you justified yourself, back then.

“I should have listened to that old lady,” you thought to yourself, as you quietly started to make your way back home; truth was, you only considered a dramatic change of style as occasions like this happened. After all, you were a powerful witch, you could wander anywhere without fearing anyone; you only needed to be quick and stealth during those few times where you roamed in the King’s territory to gather few of the herbs you needed for your spells. Sharpening your ears, you took the hint to move once again, trying to be as quick as possible to finish your task. Your basket was almost completely full of everything you needed, and haste suddenly became your best friend, since you knew that the King and his men would be back soon and you needed to get back home quickly. You were not banned from the King’s territories, in fact, you have been requested many times to work as a medic for the Castle, but you always refused, answering that you did not want to be part of the King’s domain. You were a witch, and your Mentor had always taught you that witches only belonged to the Moon and answered to the laws of nature. Witches could never belong to a King, trapped inside a Castle.

Small, pained whines caught your attention, and you froze in your steps, trying to identify where those noises were coming from; those complaints definitely seemed not human. Drawn by a strange force, you changed your original direction, your feet walking towards those little cries almost as if something was steadily pushing you towards that way.

«Oh, no.» you whispered, catching the attention of the creature –a large grey wolf, which immediately sapped its head towards you, big and inquisitive red eyes staring back at you with a wary snarl.

Your brows furrowed, wondering what to do. Wolves and witches had never been on good terms, but how could you leave it to die? Your eyes shifted on its form, laying on its side, grey fur covered with blood, which slightly pooled around its frame.

“Screw that,” you thought as you swallowed loudly, slowly placing your basket on the floor, and taking a hesitant step closer. The wolf growled at you, still wary of your presence, and you halted your steps once again. You knew it could not attack you due to the amount of blood staining its side – you deduced that it was a quite big wound, but nothing guaranteed you that the wolf would not try to bite you as soon as you were within its reach. You were enemies, after all.

«Okay, I-I’m not trying to hurt you,» you lift your hands, taking off the hood on your head, so that the wolf could see that you were not challenging him, in fact, your eyes never once tried to hold its gaze, «I know you don’t understand human language, but I want to help you.» you said, sincerity transpired through your voice, and since his growl momentarily stopped, you took it as a sign to get closer.

For a single second, you thought that maybe, just maybe, the wolf understood what you said, but that thought disappeared from your mind as soon as, kneeling next to its side, you hesitantly touched its grey and bloody fur, drawing your hand back as the wolf whined again, painfully. To your dismay, it was indeed a large wound, and judging by the look of it, it must have been pretty deep, too. Your shoulders fell in dejection, you could not heal the wolf using a spell, it would take too much time and neither of you were safe out in the open; you needed to take him to your house to treat him back to health.

“It must have been the King and his men,” you concluded, “may Artemis curse them.” You were never particularly fond of wolves – you basically grew up both fearing and despising them due to your mutual and unmotivated hatred, but you couldn’t stand how humans decided to make a ricreative activity out of something like hunt.

«I’ll take you to my house to heal you. However… I fear the way back won’t be comfortable for you.» you mumbled the last part, getting back on your feet and untying your cape by the small, neat ribbon in the middle of your collarbones. The wolf was still cautiously looking at your every move, and you ignored him, carefully spreading your dark green cloak on the ground. The wolf was far too big and far too heavy for you to lift it up and carry it all the way to your cottage, so you decided to move it on your cape – with extreme difficulty, so that you could at least half drag, half carry it. Your eyes flashed golden as you casted a spell on the both of you, making the wolf’s weight partially non-existent and also, that any human that crossed your way back would not have seen you. It took you a lot of effort and all the strength you had in your body to walk back – your basket full of herbs obediently floating in the air and following the both of you.

You made sure to be as careful and attentive as you could, trying not to worsen the wolf’s wound and stopping as soon as its whines seemed more painful. A part of you wanted to wonder why the wolf seemed so obedient and less wary of you, but the part of you focused on getting home unharmed had the upper hand.

Your cottage was not particularly big; in fact, it was quite humble to belong to a powerful witch. You could have had any house you wanted and yet, you decided to settle there: two floors, grey and uneven bricks, a large garden around the perimeter of your house – part of it served as a small vegetable garden, everything surrounded by a wooden fence.

It was humble, but it was fairly distant from both the woods and the closest village, and you loved it.

You dragged the wolf’s still whining frame – which you found out being a he, all the way to your house. Your forehead was sweaty, your body completely ached, you most definitely needed a bath, and you were sure that your cape was definitely damaged, but still your main thought was to check his wounds, since the fear of them being infected made way into your brain.

Your eyes flashed golden once again, and some pillows and blankets re-arranged themselves on the floor near your small sofa, in order to create a bed large enough for him to be comfortable.

Carefully, you laid the wolf on the makeshift bed, taking a deep breath and slowly stretching your arms in the vain attempt to get rid of the ache and soreness on your limbs. Absently, you kicked the bloodstained cape out of your reach, and quickly knelt next to him. You took another deep breath, aware of the wolf’s red eyes plastered on your face, watching your eyes flashing golden once again as you casted spells, once after the others. Next to you, immediately made their appearance a small basin full of steaming water with a white cotton cloth immersed in it, you reached out to the tools in mid-air, focusing on the wolf’s wound.

«This is going to hurt, please don’t bite me.» you mumbled, barely above a whisper, unaware that he heard you loud and clear. You carefully began to wash his wound with slow but firm strokes, your heart skipping several beats anytime he whined and writhed in pain. Trying to be as delicate as you could, you meticulously wiped away all the blood, the steamy water in the basin now of a reddish colour, and once the wound was clean enough, you quickly stood up and walked towards you small kitchen, hastily creating an herbal compress using your marble mortar and pestle.

What you feared the most ended up being the truth: the wound was infected. You massaged a side of your temple; you have never felt so stressed in your whole life. The wolf’s life at this point was completely in your hands. The wound was too big and infected to heal by itself.

«Okay, big boy. It’s gonna hurt – like, a lot.» you dared to look at him in the eyes, feeling a random sensation in your stomach, but didn’t gave it any importance as you kneeled once again next to his side and coated your fingers with the herbs, slowly spreading the medicine on his would while casting a healing spell. Although you were completely focused on what you were doing, the wolf’s painful whines raised goosebumps on your skin.

You closed your eyes, running a hand through your hair and trying to ignore the sensation of exhaustion spreading around your body, and as you also tried to ignore the headache you got anytime you used too much magic in so little time, you felt a tentative bump against your skin. Your eyes shot open, and your gaze locked with the wolf’s big, red eyes. He repeated the action, nudging his nose against your knee, noticing how the emotions behind his eyes definitely shifted from wary to gentle, almost as to say “thank you”, and you let out a short, breathless laugh as you erupted into a wide smile.

«It’s still infected,» you hesitantly reached towards the cotton bandages floating next to your head, «But at least, you won’t die.» you muttered to yourself as you proceeded to create a tight bandage around his side.

Once you finished, your brain finally took notice about the huge grey wolf now asleep in your living room, and you decided to take a hot bath and get a nice change of clothes. Your new provisory bed became the small sofa right next to the peacefully sleeping wolf, so that you could check up on him every now and then.

A week passed pretty quickly, and you most definitely ended up giving up the majority of your sleeping schedule in order to watch over the wolf – not like the strained howls coming from the woods nearby would have let you sleep anyways. The fact that he was not conscious most of the day worried you more and more, not to mention that the infection had not yet gave any sign of healing despite the herbs compresses and the continuous use of magic.

What surprised you, was that anytime the wolf was conscious, he seemed to somehow search for your presence. If you were kneeling on the ground, busy with his bandages, he would place his large and fluffy head on your legs, making you giggle because, «don't be silly, how am I supposed to heal you like this?» Therefore, he would just nuzzle his nose against your thigh and settle for placing his paw above one of your legs. It was not an unpleasant feeling, instead, something about it made you feel warm, somewhere among all the concern you were feeling.

You’d still spend your days with your nose buried in all the books in your house, some of them scattered on the floor in a disordered way, desperately looking for a way to definitely help him.

As your Mentor always taught you, infections irredeemably lead to fever, and the wolf’s fever irredeemably led you to one of the biggest scare in your life.

You woke up around the middle of the morning due to a loud noise of bones cracking right next to you, and you opened your eyes just in time to see the big and grey wolf you have been treating for over a week, shifting into a brown haired boy around your age.

Needless to say, the loud and shocked scream that instinctively left your lips woke him up, and to your surprise, instead of threatening red eyes, your gaze was met big, brown and confused eyes.

«Y-You!» you shrieked, unable to move due to his head still on your lap. The boy, which you just realized being stark naked, groaned, reaching over to rub his face with his hand.

«Chris.» now, you didn’t expect his voice to be so… Beautiful.

«What? Who is that now?!» you tried to keep a calm voice, frantically moving your gaze around the room and trying to look anywhere but the boys’ toned and pale body.

You felt him chuckle, «It’s my name, witch.» he mumbled, his voice strained due to him still being in pain. «My body shifted back due to the fever, I’m sorry.»

You stared at his face as he slowly shifted around, laying on his back and turning his head so that now, his nose was almost pressing against your navel.

Before you could even think about a proper answer, he doze back to sleep, mumbling a soft, almost inaudible «thank you.» before falling back into unconsciousness.

Mindlessly, your right hand reached out to gently caress the other’s brown hair – a gesture that you did quite often with his wolf form since his grey fur was so incredibly fluffy and relaxing to caress, as you stared into the void for several minutes.

«He’s a werewolf,» you mumbled with a frown, the fingertips of your left hand carefully hovering above his features, «and he’s hot.»

Chris eventually shifted back into his wolf form within the next hours, and you tried to ignore the loud noise of bones cracking, since it seemed really painful.

The routine fell back into normal, even after the shocking news. A blush would sometimes cover your cheeks anytime the random thought of him having a human form crossed your mind, but you focused on his infected wound, which luckily started to heal.

Chris managed to spend at least half of the day awake now, and your spells were finally more effective than they were before. Your magic mixed to wolves being able to heal faster, resulted in Chris spending a bit of the day in his human form, and you being incredibly flustered about it.

You grew up with your mentor witch, who was a woman; the only boys and men you have ever met were the villagers, but you have never been alone with a boy, let alone having one inside your house and, well, completely naked. You resolved the matter quickly, giving him a blanket and excusing yourself for not having clothes that suited his body. Chris just shrugged, thankful for being alive in the first place.

«I’m not going to lie, witch.» he spoke in a soft, tender voice as you helped him sitting on the wooden chairs of your kitchen. «I literally owe you my life.» You laughed loudly at his statement, sitting down in front of him on your small wooden table, after placing two plates full of food in front of the both of you.

«Indeed you do, wolf.» you answered with the same tone, playfully pointing a wooden fork towards him. «I hope I didn’t grow white hair due to all the pent up stress and lack of sleep.» You mumbled, more to yourself. «Even if I could definitely embrace the title of “scary, lunatic witch”, now.»

An unexpected and melodious sound naturally drew your eyes back to his face, making you almost drop your spoon. Chris was chuckling, his eyes closed in two crescent moons and his mouth tightly closed as he kept chewing his food, but yet his smile was incredibly cute and the dimples that framed it contributed to make him even more handsome.

«How did you manage to end up like that?» you asked, clearing your voice, secretly hoping that by changing the topic the blush covering your cheeks would have faded, and your quickened heartbeat would have slowed down.

Chris sighed, heavily, «Me and my pack were on a hunt, we stumbled upon some hunters which had… Enchanted weapons.»

«And they just left you there on your own?» You asked, incredulous, watching as Chris nonchalantly shrugged before answering you.

«Alpha’s orders are pretty absolute, you know.» he explained, politely smiling as you got up from your chair, collecting both your plates and spoons and casting a quick spell so that they’d wash, clean and set back into their place by themselves. You noticed Chris watching in awe your eyes flash golden once again, and questionably raised an eyebrow at him.

«It’s cool,» he immediately explained, «Your magic, I mean, it’s pretty cool.»

You smiled at him, before shaking your head. «You can shift into a wolf, I believe you’re the cool one.»

Butterflies erupted into your stomach as Chris’ dimples showed up again, beautifully framing his wide smile.

Even if Chris’ wound was healing, you still did not move back to your bed upstairs. Instead, you would rather spend your days talking to him, both of you occasionally sitting on your sofa facing each other. You tried to confront Chris about why even if you were supposed to dislike each other due to centuries of mutual hatred, you got along pretty well and anytime, Chris would brush it off, adverting his gaze with a nervous laugh and saying that he really had no idea. He did not convince you at all, but you let it go.

«Do you think they’ll come looking for you?» your hands brushed against Chris’ ribs, as you changed cleaned and disinfected the wound once again. You were both sitting on his makeshift bed, a blanket covering his crossed legs as he obediently kept his arm in the air, so that you could easily finish.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him nod. «They most definitely will. We recently started living nearby, so it won’t be too hard for them.» the goosebumps on Chris’ skin anytime your hands brushed against his skin definitely didn’t go unnoticed. «I could still come visit you, sometimes.» he added, tentatively.

Hearing his words, you felt once again that familiar sensation of unexplainable warmth, wondering why in the world could seven words even made you happy, your heartbeat soaring because “Yes, I’d love to see you again”.

«The feeling of falling in love is very like the feeling of fear. Your heart beats fast. Your senses are heightened. You grow light-headed, maybe even dizzy. Be wary of it, young witch. It might make you immensely powerful, it’s true. But, it might also mark your downfall.» you briefly lost yourself in thought, as you recalled what your Mentor had once told you. You did not notice how the arm that Chris was obediently keeping in the air eventually lowered, until he took your hand in his.

With hesitant, gentle movements, he silently kept his hand on top of yours, guiding it above his heart, your wide eyes meeting his soft gaze. His heartbeat was matching yours: rapid, wild, fearless.

Chris’ soft gaze was locked with yours, his gentle and warm eyes giving you the confirmation that he knew you were falling for him, and he was falling for you, too.

You breathed out a sigh, your eyes glued together and shy smiles plastered on your faces. As if you were magnets, your lips eventually met, slowly, tentatively. Chris firmly kept your hand above his heart as he other snaked around your neck, weakly gripping your nape. You and Chris kissed like two distant lovers meeting after painful lives spent looking for each other. You could feel his soft breath against your cheek, helping you realize that it was real, and you balanced yourself, placing your hand on Chris’ naked shoulder as if it was your only anchor to reality. The kiss was soft, almost shy. Chris would giggle against your lips anytime your noses brushed together a bit too roughly, and you would giggle along with him, before kissing each other again, feeling already intoxicated and addicted to his soft lips and warm skin. Chris pecked your lips once, twice, before placing your foreheads together, your fingers now interlocked above his heart.

«I don’t want to sound cheesy or anything, but,» Chris unexpectedly raspy whisper broke the silence. «I knew you were the one as soon as you found me in the woods.» he smiled, rubbing your foreheads together as he was met with your confused expression «Wolves just know who they are supposed to spend their life with.» he mumbled. You lips met, parted, and met again for countless times that night.

Sunny spring days were your favourite. The weather was not too hot, the wind would gently blow and most importantly: laundry would dry quickly. The amount of covers and blanket you have been using to create Chris bed was insane – you did not even know why you owned so many blankets in the first place.

Lost in thoughts – wondering if using your magic to collect the blankets instead of doing it manually, you definitely did not realize that a pack of wolves made their way towards your house, not until, as you collected one of the blankets from the clotheshorse in your garden, you suddenly faced a large, black and threatening wolf.

You instinctively shrieked, the wolf’s deep red eyes staring into your soul. It was like a deja-vu, but now the wolf had a black fur and by his side appeared another black wolf out of nowhere, but its eyes were mismatched: one was deep blue, and one was yellow.

The more you walked backwards, the more they followed you while growling menaciously, as if they were on a hunt and you were their prey. With the corner of your eyes, you saw more of them, and as you were about to cast a spell to stop them, you heard Chris’ authoritative voice.

«Oi! Why don’t you stop scaring my mate?» Chris was leaning on the doorway, a blanket hanging loose around his hip and white bandages hugging his stomach. «Changbin, Hyunjin, back off. Now.» You were still hugging the blanket close to your chest, as you saw them obey immediately, lowering their heads and putting a reasonable distance between you and them.

Chris’ arm draped around your shoulders. «I hope you have seven spare blankets.» he told you, an amused giggle on his lips.

«Why would I need more blankets-» the question died in your mouth, as they began shifting in front of you. Seven naked boys took place of the seven threatening wolves, and your gaze immediately shifted to Chris’, as your eyes flashed yellow and immediately made blankets fall over their heads.

Chris laughed loudly, kissing your forehead. «Do you want to meet them?» as you answered with a shy nod, he raised his voice, «Come on, boys, let’s go inside. Family meeting.»

“I’m gonna have to do the laundry again.” You sighed, and let Chris walk you back inside.

As your eyes met, you both erupted into shy giggles, and Chris pressed your body closer to his, affectionately kissing your temple.

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 9 months

Text

The Fate Of A Fae - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Theme: Soulmates / Monster/Fantasy AU

You know on sight. Friends also know when they meet you if you're a match for one of their friends.

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a meddling, pain in the ass Sprite, who you wrongly thought would leave you alone once you introduced her to your best friend, Darcy. News flash, she doesn’t and she won’t. Not when she thinks you’re a perfect match for two of her best friends. Could she be right? Maybe. Just don’t tell her that.

“Never tell Natasha Romanoff she was right” - Clint Barton

Chapter Summary: Something is changing..............

When you look in the mirror you’re hoping you don’t look like shit but that hope quickly fades when your tired eyes focus on your reflection.

You 100% look like shit.

You’d hoped you’d drift back off to sleep after your text altercation with Natasha but you tossed and turned and fidgeted until you’d annoyed yourself. Just as you felt yourself dip back to sleep the alarm sounded and now here you were looking like a hot mess. No, not hot, just a damn mess.

Your eyes and the bags under them showed your lack of sleep as proof to the world. You turned to turn on the shower in your small bathroom. God you missed the tub of your last place but you couldn’t stay there, it wasn’t safe anymore. Or so Natasha had firmly told you, Clint too.

As you pulled off your over-sized tshirt, former property of a very ex boyfriend, you flinched as it rubbed against your ears, bothering the scar tissue.

“Weird” you’d said out loud to yourself before stepping into the shower. The scar tissue had been numb for longer than you could really remember. The skin bothered you again as you washed your face and ears, and you were quick to exit the shower and dry off before stepping back in front of the mirror.

You looked side to side at your ears, looking at the scar tissue. Had they changed shape?

No, that couldn’t be right. You felt a wave of uneasiness as you reached up to touch them. You ran your index finger along the tip of your ear and along the scars. The ones that you’d be left with after THAT day.

You gasped. You could feel it.

The previous numbness caused by THAT day had faded.

You quickly turned to try and look at your back. Huffing as you struggled to see. You grabbed the smaller mirror you sometimes used for applying your makeup and turned. There didn’t seem to be any change to your back, you certainly didn’t have wings and the scaring still felt dead as you reached around to poke at it.

You turned back and started to poke at your ears again but were quickly pulled aware by the buzzing of your phone as the messages started to come through now it was passed 9am.

1 message Nat (the pain in the ass) Romanoff I really am sorry

1 message Darcy Boo Sorry about the pain in the ass, we got into another fight, I’m seriously considering a sex ban

You snorted at that Darcy, would never be able to keep to that and certainly not with her soulmate.

1 message Tony (Mr Potts) Stark Kid we need to talk

1 message Zombie Edit Group Chat Don’t forget Zoom in 10 minutes

Shit, that was 4 minutes ago and you were still in a towel and looked like death. As you rushed to put clothes on you were stopped abruptly by another message, one that would cause you to turn your phone off.

Bucky

You can't ignore me forever my precious fairy

#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #avengers au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #avengers #monster au #alternate universe #fairy reader #faerie

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thepixelelf · 2 years

Text

and the universe said,

03 "this day will make the you of tomorrow"

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery chapter warnings: language, relationship(s): ot13 x reader

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren't -- and that's before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

series masterlist

prev ⭒ chapter three (2.9k) ⭒ next

It’s not lost on Lee Jihoon that, even though he's written love songs since he was fifteen and poems even before that — which is privileged information he’ll never share with anyone — he’s only been in love once.

And he’s grateful for that. Sometimes he thinks about her; about what kind of life he’d be living if certain things went certain ways. And he smiles. Not because she was beautiful — which she was — or because in his imagination, he acted braver — which he didn’t — but because even though that love would never know if it was returned, he still felt it. He knew it was real. It was at once an infinitely warm and bitingly cold feeling. Jihoon’s written quite a few songs from that first and last love.

Except, he doesn’t think that was his last love. Not really. Maybe it’s true in the romantic sense, but…

He won’t say it, of course. What he feels for his members. His friends. His brothers.

No… no. Speaking it out loud is unnecessary.

Mingyu’s hand grabs his, encasing it in a soft but tight grip as Yejung calls for the attention of the room. Jihoon doesn’t squeeze back, but his thumb lightly curls around Mingyu’s palm.

“If there really is a person that’s attached to all of you through your marks, we need to plan a course of action.” Yejung fidgets with her hands, and Jihoon can tell she wishes she was pointing at a slideshow on the wall and showing them interaction rates, rather than this unquantifiable soulmate business.

“We still don’t have a dating ban here,” Myungjun says, arms crossed as he lets his eyes roam to each of the boys. “But I think we all know what happens when famous heartthrobs get hitched. I was never worried about it before because you’re all, frankly—” He glances at Jihoon. “—bitchless, but…”

Chan makes an affronted sound, and someone whines, “Hyung!”

Jihoon can only hold in a pout because Myungjun looked at him when he said that, and he’s right.

Yejung lightly smacks Myungjun’s shoulder. “What we’re trying to say is this: Seventeen’s ratings are skyrocketing because of this whole soulmate thing,” she explains. “But I can’t imagine those numbers moving in a positive direction if these fans find out your marks connect you to someone unfamiliar rather than each other.”

Myungjun nods. “Whatever outcome, it wouldn’t be good.”

“Don’t Carats want us to be happy?” Seokmin dares to ask.

“Well—” Yejung's expression turns pained. “Yes, it’s just that—”

“You guys are one of the biggest kpop acts on the block right now,” Myungjun supplies easily. “Despite how good I’m sure most of your fans are, there will always be people who aren’t. Just a few bad apples can spoil the bunch.”

Yejung clarifies, “It’s about safety and privacy. There are sasaengs who follow you around and take pictures without your consent. There are people who would do anything to support their favourite celebrities, including defaming you guys by any means necessary. The internet is a powerful weapon. Who’s to say it won’t be used against you because of this?”

No one argues with that. Each of the members has dealt with the bad side of the internet more than once, if in different ways. Though none of them refute what Yejung said, it’s her next question that really gets their minds turning.

“Who’s to say your soulmate won’t get hurt?”

Your soulmate.

Jihoon’s soulmate.

Hurt? No.

No no no no no.

A rising panic stains the room, and Yejung and Myungjun share a look that all but a few miss.

“Which—” Yejung puts more volume into her voice to grab the attention of the members, and maybe to pull them away from whatever spiralling they were about to do. “—is why we’re asking you all to just lay low for a while.”

“Lay low?” Junhui echoes.

Myungjun nods again. “For now, the short-term plan is to continue propagating the idea that you’re all each other’s platonic soulmates.”

“Just while research is still being done,” Yejung says. “It also gives us at the company an opportunity to figure things out in the meantime.”

Seungcheol’s brows furrow, suspicious. “What are you asking us to do to” —he puts his fingers up in air quotes— “‘lay low’?”

Myungjun and Yejung share another look, and he sighs, knowing that he’s better adept to being the bearer of bad news.

“Don’t go looking for your soulmate.”

The room practically bristles.

Yejung puts both her hands out, as if the irritation in the air is something she can actually push down. “Actively,” she clarifies. “Don’t go actively searching for this person. The last thing we want is to stop you guys from finding, uh, love, but… you can understand how weird this all is, right? The entire situation is a grey area.”

For the first time since this whole meeting started, Jeonghan actually looks a bit put off. "But they're my soulmate," he says, ignorant to the way some of the boys react to his use of the word my.

"They're also an unknown variable," Myungjun replies. He too ignores the mumbles and grumbles of the members; he's had years of practice with that. "This is nowhere near the same thing as one of you having a secret boyfriend or girlfriend or partner. You guys are all connected to this person. We can't just walk into this blind. One wrong move, and your soulmate’s well-being could be at stake. If worst comes to worst, they might be forced to forget what ‘privacy’ even means.”

Jihoon can tell, easily, Myungjun is weaponizing the safety of his — their soulmate to influence their compliance, but shit, it works. He feels something itching under his skin, an urge to protect someone he doesn’t even know. “Okay,” he says.

Scandalized, Soonyoung gapes at Jihoon like he just claimed something truly offensive like, actually, tigers aren’t that cool. “Jihoon! You can’t be serious— my soulmate is waiting for me!”

Everyone’s getting a little too cozy with this whole my business…

But Jihoon just shrugs, his face the picture of stoicism and maturity. “It’s just for now.”

“Just for now,” Yejung reassures.

Seungcheol nods, his lips in a contemplative pout rather than the typical whining one. “You’re right,” he cedes to the staff. “It’ll be a media circus if word gets out.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it?” Vernon asks no one in particular.

He doesn’t get an answer.

Myungjun clears his throat. “Look, we’re just asking for some time here. Everything I’ve heard about soulmates suggests that you will find this person, whether you go looking for them or not. I, for one, want to be prepared for when — not if — that happens.”

Relaxing a bit in his chair, Seokmin lets out a tiny sigh through his nose. He looks at his hands in his lap for a second, then back up at Myungjun. “Promise?”

Yejung seems to find relief in the gradual lessening of tension in the room, and she smiles. “Promise.”

Jihoon watches the way Seokmin’s smile grows, then gets pushed back as Seokmin tries and fails to hide his giddiness as he looks down at his lap again. The idea that this fated meeting is, well, fated is eliciting a similar reaction in many of them.

“For what it’s worth,” Myungjun cuts into whatever the heck is happening between the boys without care. “We’re asking you guys not to look for them, but if they find you…” He lets out a half-chuckle. “Well, not much we can do about that.”

⭒

Writer’s block is certainly not something Jihoon’s never dealt with, but as he sits there in his studio, one hand hovering over the keyboard and the other clutching uselessly to the mouse he hasn’t done anything with except swirl around for the last hour, he wonders if it’s ever been as bad as this. The same pressure as always weighs upon him. More songs. More hits. More collabs. More More More More More.

It’s strange, though. He’s had days where he’s not coming up with anything. Weeks. He’s gone through longer droughts, so why is this one night making his entire body ache? Why does the dull pain seep from his chest to the tips of his fingers?

He wants to write for you, but he doesn’t know who you are.

“Hyung?” Seungkwan pokes his head into the studio, hair still mussed from when he woke up. “Have you been here all night? It’s almost eight.”

Jihoon just grimaces in response, and Seungkwan clicks his tongue.

“And you say you love sleep so much… tch. We have that radio appearance in three hours, so I was sent to save you from yourself. The makeup team can take care of those dark eyebags”

Though he could probably use the rest, Jihoon pinches the skin around his wrist to keep himself from falling asleep in the van as it gets driven from the salon to the broadcasting station. If he falls asleep now, it’ll be a whole hassle to get him back up and alert again.

He stares at his mark. The five straight lines just sit there, blank.

His soulmate hasn’t sang in a couple days — not since that meeting about them.

Jihoon has to wonder. Do they not know how the mark shared between them and the rest of the members works? Or… are they doing it on purpose? To sever the mark before it can lead him anywhere.

It’s almost like they know.

Oh? Your company doesn’t want you to find me? You got it, boss. Never liked singing anyway.

He has to admit, though, his soulmate didn’t sing much before, either. When he could catch his mark playing, it never lasted long, but he always pulled his phone out anyway to record it on video. He would play the video back, humming along to a clef and key he’d have to guess, then sing what he’d come up with into google and hope for the best. A couple of Day6 songs, some American artists, one Mozart and one Beethoven, some tunes he couldn’t even identify — maybe they sang out of key or just skipped notes they didn’t feel like hitting. He could hardly blame his soulmate for not singing every day. It’s not everyone’s job.

But if they know their soulmate can see it… wouldn’t they sing at least a little?

Jihoon is hungry.

“I would kill for an iced coffee right now,” Seungkwan says from the backseat.

Joshua doesn’t look up from his phone. “There will be some at the venue.”

“But their coffee always tastes so bad.” Wrinkling his nose, Seungkwan crosses his arms. “It’s like ninety-nine percent water, and then they pour it over a full cup of ice.”

“It’s free. What do you expect?” Jeonghan counters.

Seungkwan frowns. “Coffee.”

Seokmin opens his mouth to join the budding conversation, but he stops short when Jihoon groans out, “Can we pull over?”

Their driver meets Jihoon’s eyes in the rearview mirror, a bit surprised. She asks, worried, “Are you okay?”

“Just wanna grab something to eat.”

The car pulls up in front of a cafe, which looks empty enough for the staff member in the driver’s seat to give it their stamp of approval. The boys don’t generally run into trouble in public eateries, but they still try to be careful.

“I’m going to park around the corner,” the driver tells him.

“Get me an iced coffee while you’re in there!” Seungkwan yells out the window after Jihoon slides the van door in his face.

Jihoon lifts one non-committal hand halfway up in the air as he walks off, not caring if Seungkwan sees it or not.

Neither the coffee shop nor its menu are anything to write home about, but Jihoon stands patiently in line while the person in front of him tries to explain to the tired barista that they had to have the drink they want in stock because they ordered it last time, while the barista calmly states that they’ve never even heard of a frappu-cappu-latte. He eyes the pastries and sandwiches in the display case, and when the customer in front of him finally walks out with a huff, he orders something to eat for himself and a coffee for Seungkwan. Not because of feelings-that-shall-not-be-named, of course. Jihoon just felt like it is all.

He’s about to walk out when that familiar sensation pinches at his right hand, and he looks down at his mark. Notes, for the first time in 79 hours — not that he’s been counting — flit across the staff, and his eyes widen. With his left hand, he puts down the paper bag with the sandwich in it and pulls out his phone, ready to record the music, but he pauses. He recognizes the notes. It’s easy to read because it’s playing right now.

A soft rock song plays quietly through the cafe speakers, going on about zombies or something, and it corresponds exactly with the notes on the hand still holding Seungkwan’s precious coffee.

Jihoon whips his head up and around, desperate for something or someone just on the tip of his tongue. There aren’t that many people in the coffee shop, and he can quickly tell that neither the barista nor the old couple sitting in the corner are singing.

He sees your back first, your face hidden as you look out the window, and then he hears it.

Slowly, he approaches behind you, your humming becoming more and more clear with each step. He wants to roll around in a field of your voice. He wants to drink it like warm soup.

What the fuck? He needs to get his shit together.

Say hello, his brain oh so helpfully supplies. Don’t be weird.

And he means to. He really does. Jihoon is mature and chill and calm under duress. He’s pined after by millions. He’s humble and cool.

He’s pouring Seungkwan’s coffee on you.

Your entire body jolts, your drink flying out of your hand before you turn around with shock and fury mixed in your eyes.

Oh, god, your eyes.

“What the fuck!” you blurt out, and Jihoon’s eyes flick down to his hand, where the notes have disappeared and left only the five lines behind.

You’re real, you’re here, and—

“Hello?!”

—and you’re extremely pissed at him.

“Shit,” he whispers, so quiet even he can barely hear it, and no one could tell he’s saying anything underneath his mask. “Fuck. Shit. Fuck.”

“Why would you do that?!” You step closer to him, and in the back of his mind, Jihoon registers that he’s crushed both the cup in his right hand and the lid in his left. You squint, eyes skirting over his facial features not hidden by his mask. “Do I even know you?”

Jihoon stumbles back, half because this is exactly what his company told him not to do, and half because he’s incredibly intimidated. “I… I’m— Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean? Didn’t mean to straight up pour your coffee on me?”

Intelligently, he says, “It’s not my coffee.”

You scoff in clear disbelief, and Jihoon wants to smack himself. Lifting your hand, you open your mouth to no doubt tell him off some more — well deserved, honestly — but an alarm sounds. Gasping, you turn around and hurry back to your table, grabbing your phone and silencing the alarm with a quiet, “Damn it.”

Jihoon can only stand, frozen, while you quickly pack up your things. You almost speed-walk right past him to leave, but then you seem to change your mind, a determined frown of your face.

Weird how that’s cute, too.

“Give me your phone.” You hold your hand out.

Jihoon blinks. “My…?”

“Phone,” you finish for him, moving your fingers as if to say, come on, hand it over.

Well. How can he argue with that?

You type something into his phone that he can’t see because he’s busy being stupefied.

“Here.” You click his phone off and hand it back to him. “If you block me, I’ll kill you.”

And then you’re gone.

Jihoon just stands there, in the middle of the cafe, his phone in his hand and the plastic cup abandoned on another empty table.

On his phone, a text thread is open to an unknown number. Only one message has been sent, technically from him.

I’ll pay you back for the shirt

He stares at the text for a good while, a text from his soulmate to his soulmate.

Holy fuck this is his soulmate’s number.

Jihoon’s gawking is only interrupted by a message popping up over the unknown number.

[jeonghan] staff says get back here or we’re gonna be late

When Jihoon returns to the van, not just Seungkwan, but he and the rest of the vocal unit all give him a weird look. He’s holding his phone close to his chest, clutched so tight between his fingers you’d think it’s made of pure gold.

Yejung’s words from the meeting, right before dismissing everyone for the day, echo in the back of his mind.

“If you do happen to cross paths with your soulmate, tell us immediately. We need to keep this in-house.”

Jihoon smiles, almost a breath of a laugh, and he shakes his head to himself.

Oppositely, Seokmin frowns, and he leans closer to Joshua to stage-whisper, “I think he’s more sleep-deprived than we thought.”

Seungkwan addresses it directly, though. He scrutinizes Jihoon’s free hand, which is, well, free.

“Did you even buy anything?”

⭒

In the cafe, a tired, broke, just-trying-to-get-through-college barista mops the floor clean of two drinks, muttering, “One more weirdo and I’m quitting this fucking job.”

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