#whatever they are for each other they surely are soulmates
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itsacruelsummerbaby · 3 days ago
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍
The Red Thread of Fate… To your surprise, it turns out Hotch believes in it.
pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader || tags: fem!reader, bau!reader, soulmate AU || wc: 1.2k || navigation
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You put the cup of coffee on the table in front of you, then pick up the Cosmo you left open. Out of the corner of your eye you see the small half-smile that appears on Hotch’s lips at the sight, but he doesn’t say a word, he just returns his attention to the report in front of him.
“I hate these articles so much,” Emily suddenly says in the seat next to yours, pointing at the page you’re currently reading. You send a questioning look her way, and she turns in her seat to face you. “I once took their “signs he’s into you” piece seriously, made a move on the guy, and it turned out he was into men.”
Somehow Derek heard this story over the music he was listening to, because he pushes the headphones down to his neck as he laughs. “Don’t tell me you actually used to believe what they write. It’s all stupid,” he says.
After briefly wondering if you should kick his shin under the table, you decide it’s not worth the fight. “It temporarily shuts down my brain,” you begin to explain. “That’s more than enough for me.”
Suddenly, Hotch lays the report on the table and raises his gaze to look at you. “Good thinking. I would have been disappointed if it turned out you’re the type to consider this magazine as some sort of a Bible for women.”
Derek and Emily exchange glances, and even you raise your brows in surprise. Why is he paying attention to a conversation about such a magazine? Not like you mind, of course, which sometimes truly bothers you. You shouldn’t want his attention this badly, your dreams shouldn’t be plagued with thoughts of him being with you.
It all began when the first signs of troubles with his marriage began to show. You saw that something was eating him, so one day after work you went to his office and started a conversation to figure out why he always stayed late. For some reason, he decided to tell you the truth, going into details that were none of your business.
Is it an emotional affair? Maybe.
Is it bad? Probably.
Are you happy to have even a scrap of his attention? Surely.
“Did you really think that’s a possibility with me? That I’m like that?” you ask hesitantly.
Hotch’s gaze is fixed on you, as it was just the two of you on the plane. “No,” he admits softly.
The way you’re looking at each other piques the interest of your colleagues, and not just Emily and Derek’s, but JJ and Rossi’s too. Lucky to you, Spencer is sleeping peacefully on the couch. To make sure your boss finally stops, you tear your gaze away and gently bump your foot into his leg.
Sadly, Hotch takes this as a challenge and hooks his legs around yours while returning his attention to the report. The others lose interest eventually, hopefully letting this go for now. It’s bad enough that the man across from you is playing some stupid game with you.
This is the first time he makes such an obviously flirty move, which leads you to an uncharted territory. Is he planning to take whatever is going on between you to another level? Because if he is, you’re not really sure if you’re ready for it. He’s still married, even if Haley wants a divorce, you can’t jump into a relationship with him.
When you try to untangle your legs, he subtly glances over at you with a disapproving look, one which tells you he’s not letting this thing between you end anytime soon.
You know for a fact that he and Rossi had a glass or two of whiskey at the airport while you waited for the jet to be ready, but after this case, you honestly couldn’t blame them. Maybe it’s the alcohol that gave him the courage to make a move on you, but you’re afraid he’ll regret it the next day when he sobers up.
It’s your responsibility to be smart, to help him without making him believe you want something from him. He’s handsome, intelligent, competent, and yes, every woman would be happy to have him for herself, but the timing just isn’t right.
Less than two hours later the plane lands and the team disperses to finally head home, and sadly Hotch uses this opportunity to catch you alone. He gently grabs your wrist to make you come to a halt, and when you give him a questioning look, he just shakes his head and pulls you in the direction of a place in the hangar that’s far away from everyone.
“You need to stop,” you tell him right away.
He lets out a sigh and takes a step closer to you, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel it. That pull, that goddamn force every time we’re close to each other. Hell, it’s even present when we’re apart, trying to get me to see you again.”
It’s insane; he’s insane if he honestly believes this. “And what is this… pull exactly?”
“It was a mistake to make you forget it,” he whispers when he rests his forehead against yours. “If I hadn’t done that, we would be together now. Maybe Haley and I would have never gotten married, because I would have been waiting for you to be old enough.”
Making you forget? “What are you talking about, Hotch?” you wonder, the conversation making less and less sense to you.
His hand drops to his side and he takes a few steps back. “You wouldn’t believe it, it’s better if you don’t know. Forget I mentioned it,” he says with a small, sad smile.
But there’s no way you’re letting that slide now, you need to know what’s happening, so you reach out for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly. A move that makes him take a sharp breath, as if your touch sent a wave of electricity through his body.
“What wouldn’t I believe?”
“That we belong together. You always found me when you were little, you were honestly getting on my nerves sometimes,” he says with a short laugh. “But… I got scared of what this was, what this could be, so I asked someone to make you forget about me, about that string that connects the two of us.”
This rang a bell in your head. “Like the Red Thread of Fate or something?” you ask him quietly, unsure about the whole thing. He nods, but remains silent, so you go on. “Hotch, it’s… Why would I believe you?”
“You don’t have to. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe you really did forget about this for good, and in that case I'll have to accept that you will never love me back. Unless, of course, you’re willing to give me a chance,” he says softly.
Blowing out the air you’ve been holding in gives you time to think it through. It must be the alcohol, there’s no other reason for this stupid story. But in that case, why doesn’t he look drunk? After another few seconds of waiting, you let out a sigh and give him your answer, hoping he will come to terms with it eventually.
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its-luna-noel · 18 hours ago
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soul tied | gojo x reader
"You're not going to die on me." "My love, not even death could keep me from you." When the love of your life - or one of your lives - is on death's door, you perform a soul tie ritual to make sure you'll meet again. This tie binds you across time, space, and every universe; your souls now belong to each other. But even a soul tie doesn't make love easy.
tags: f!reader, reincarnation au, soulmates au, threads of fate, angst, pining, slow burn, fluff, meet cutes in every life, non-linear storytelling, fake dating, one bed, drinking
word count: 3.3k
chapter 3/? prev. chapter | next chapter
masterlist | link to ao3
notes: helloooo! chapter here on the quick turnaround for you guys! hope you enjoy, this was a fun one!
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2024, Tokyo
|| Satoru Gojo: Just booked the hotel!
|| You: what do you mean hotel??
|| Satoru Gojo: ?? The hotel we’re staying at this weekend?
|| You: you didn’t tell me we were going out of town!
|| You: i am not staying in a hotel room with you
|| Satoru Gojo: Why not? I’m a great hotel buddy
|| Satoru Gojo: ;)
|| You: put your winky face away
|| You: im not sharing a room with you
|| Satoru Gojo: Why
|| You: cause we barely know each other
|| You: and i bet you snore
|| Satoru Gojo: I do not! And fine, if you want to spend your own money on a room. I’d call soon, there’s a whole wedding party staying at the only hotel in town
|| You: …you couldn’t have told me this earlier?
|| Satoru Gojo: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I thought you’d be okay staying with me
|| You: you really think you’re that irresistible?
|| Satoru Gojo: Yes
|| You: just called, no other rooms.
|| You: how much do i owe you for my half?
|| Satoru Gojo: None, I got it
|| You: fine
|| You: see you friday
|| Satoru Gojo: Yay!! See you then
~
Satoru picks you up on Friday afternoon, driving up in a sleek black Maserati and parking out front.
You almost roll your eyes. Of course he has to be gorgeous and rich. You walk over as he steps out of his car, looking somehow put together even in his comfortable traveling outfit of joggers and sweater. You’re matching, though you’re sure your sweatpants from Target are much less high-end than whatever bullshit he’s wearing.
He smiles at you. “Hey, thanks again for doing this.”
“Don’t mention it.” You hand him the garment bag that’s holding your dress for the wedding. Curious and ever intrusive, Satoru unzips the bag and peeks inside, revealing a floor-length, wine-colored piece you picked up for a good deal. At the sight, he glances over at you.
He grins down at you, raising an eyebrow. “What, did ya get this at Macy’s?”
You grit your teeth, hands clenched into fists at your side. “Yes.”
He looks surprised, then coughs to cover whatever expression he’s trying to hide. “Oh. Uh, it’s nice.”
You don’t respond, handing him your duffle bag before climbing silently into the front seat. This is going to be a long ride.
Satoru sets your bag in the backseat and hangs the dress on the hanger hook. Then he climbs inside, his long legs stretching forward to hitting the pedals. You have to force yourself to avert your gaze.
“So,” he says as he shifts gears and pulls away from the curb, “tell me about yourself.”
You grunt softly, turning back to him with an incredulous air. “What, you wanna make small talk for the three hour drive?”
You watch the corner of his mouth quirk up in a small smile, though his eyes stay on the road. “Maybe.”
“You just can’t stand silence, can you?”
“I can’t stand awkward silence. There’s a difference.”
“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward.”
He huffs a laugh. “Fine. Sit in silence then.” He reaches over and turns up the volume of his music, drowning out his supposed awkward silence.
You’re quiet for a while, letting his music play as you watch the city fade into suburbs. It’s been a long time since you’ve been out of the city; you used to go with your grandfather, used to visit the surrounding countryside and take hikes, but that went to the wayside when he got sick–
You blink away the thoughts. Now’s not the time for reminiscing. Instead, you turn and raise an eyebrow at your travel companion. “Seriously?”
“What?”
You gesture to the infotainment center, where the title of the currently playing song proudly scrolls: “PARTY IN THE U.S.A.” You say, “This is what you listen to? In a freaking Maserati?”
He grins. “I didn’t think you knew what kind of car this was.”
“I do. And I also know your taste in music sucks.”
He gasps and puts a hand to his chest, looking scandalized. His other hand stays on the steering wheel, and you can’t help but notice how casual he looks, how relaxed, how attractive. “My music taste is great.”
“I think you’re objectively wrong.” Right when he’s about to respond, the starting notes of “Fergalicious” start playing. “Oh my god.”
He laughs, looking entirely too amused at your disdain. “What’s good music, then, in your opinion?” he asks, before singing along under his breath, “Fergalicious, definition: make them boys go loco.”
Your own lips curve into a smile, now. You reach towards his phone, raising your eyebrows. Silently asking.
He chuckles and unlocks his phone for you. “I’m trusting you with my life here,” he teases.
You take it and hide the screen from him as you scroll through Spotify, bringing up a new song to listen to. Something with bass and a good beat. You glance over at him as you select a song by Ashnikko you like.
He glances at the screen on the dash. “Isn’t this from Arcane?”
“Yeah.” He laughs softly, shaking his head. You frown. “What now?”
“Nothing.” His lips are twitching, fighting a smile. You just scowl at him, waiting for him to speak. Finally he does. “You’re just a nerd.”
“Am not!”
“Yes you are.” He laughs again. “Even your definition of a ‘good’ song is from a nerdy little show. Admit it.”
You scowl again, but it’s tinged with playfulness this time. You glance out the window, watching the suburbs finally turn to countryside. “Fine,” you mutter, hiding your smile out the window. “I’m a nerd.”
You can’t see his smile, but you can feel his amusement in the silence. Quickly, before he can respond, you continue, “But so are you!”
He just chuckles. “I’m not denying that, sweetheart. You should ask me about digimon sometime if you really want me to get on a nerdy tangent.”
Sweetheart. You try not to let the nickname spread heat through you, but you can’t help it; your cheeks flush slightly at the nickname. You’re glad you’re still looking out the window. “Tell me about it, then.”
He just snorts and shakes his head. “That’s not a first date type of material,” he teases. “Ask me on the third.”
You snort, too, smiling out the window. You’re not sure if he’s kidding, but the idea of a second or even third date doesn't sound too bad, despite how insufferable you thought he was when he first asked. “Yeah, alright.”
You can see his reflection in the window as he turns to look at you curiously. He says, “So…” and reaches over to turn down the music a little. He clears his throat. “What do you do for work?”
You sigh softly. Seems that you were unable to delay the small talk for long. You turn back to him. “I’m a program leader at the public library.”
He looks surprised. He glances over at you again before returning his attention to the highway. “So you really are a little nerd! What does that entail?”
You shrug. “Basically just creating events for the community. I hang out with a lot of old ladies.”
He laughs at that. “So, what, you all get together and knit together?”
“Basically.” He’s not far off. He laughs again. “I run book clubs, craft nights, stuff like that. Along with, you know, other librarian things.”
He hums, nodding. You’re surprised to find him actively listening; you thought he’d just blow off your job as boring. “Do you like it?”
You nod, expression earnest. “I love it. Let’s me meet new people and stuff.” He nods again. You ask, “What do you do?”
“I’m a high school teacher,” he says.
You raise an eyebrow, looking him over. “You, a teacher? Driving a car like this?”
He smiles and explains, “My family’s pretty well-off. I’m a trust fund baby.”
“Ah.” You nod in understanding as the pieces click into place. It leaves a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth; your grandfather couldn’t leave much of anything for you in an inheritance, and here Satoru is, able to fly through life with ease.
He chuckles, sensing your frustration. “That change your opinion of me?”
“No,” you say teasingly, “my opinion of you was already pretty low.”
He huffs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Brat,” he mutters, fighting a smile.
You smile back. Then you ask, “Where do you work? If you don’t mind my asking.”
He shrugs. “It’s no problem. I work at Tokyo Tech.”
“Cool. Do you like it?”
He nods, watching the road. “I like training the next generation.” He glances over with a smile. “Seems like you’re partial to the old generation, huh?”
You shrug. “I guess you could say that.”
“Any particular reason?”
You take a deep breath, not really wanting to talk about it, but what else are you going to chat about for three hours. “Uh, my grandparents raised me. Mom walked out, wasn’t able to care for me as a kid. So they really stepped in and did their best for me.”
He nods a little, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “It sounds like you’re glad to have them,” he observes.
You just nod, glancing out the window. You don’t say more, and he doesn’t push.
The rest of the drive passes much like that, each of you occasionally asking a question while the music plays through the speakers. You take turns playing music you like, and you find yourself laughing a lot with him. Not only is he aggravatingly handsome, and rich, and charming, but he’s also funny.
All of a sudden, staying in the same hotel room with him doesn’t seem so bad.
~
1727, Bahamas
“So,” Captain Gojo says, propping his boots up on the desk and leaning back in his seat with a wide smirk, “why should we take you aboard?”
You, dressed in loose trousers tucked into your own boots and a gray reefer jacket, with a jagged haircut tucked under a red bandana, frown. “You’re asking for my qualifications?”
The captain inclines his head. “Naturally. I don’t take any old scallywag on my ship, Mister…?” He trails off, raising an eyebrow for your name.
You give him your last name. It wouldn’t lead him anywhere; it’s a name that means nothing, gives you nothing. It’s a useless name for a useless family that you left behind in the dust to come find treasure, adventure, the seven seas.
Gojo drops his feet to the floor and folds his hands together, leaning onto his desk. He levels a serious look with you, blue eyes bright and searching. “As I said, I don’t take just anyone. So, either tell me why I should take you, or I’d kindly ask you to leave my ship before we force you off.”
You clench your teeth. You didn’t run away to be cast away before you even embarked on your first journey. You didn’t cut your hair, bind your chest, and rub filth on your face in order to be told ‘no’ and to return to your family with nothing to show for your endeavors.
So you say, gaze matching the captain’s, “My father fixes firearms. He taught me a few things. I’ve trained to be a firearm specialist. I can shoot, and I’m willing to do any jobs you give me, but I work best with my hands.”
Captain Gojo looks down at your hands resting on the desk – feminine hands, soft only superficially dirty. You hope he can’t see those traits in them. He looks back at you and squints thoughtfully. “Is that all?” he drawls.
You shake your head, and that’s when you sweep aside your coat and reveal three brand new, beautiful pistols hidden on your person. The captain’s guards immediately rise to protect him, to apprehend you, but he just raises a hand to stop them, eyes locked on the firearms.
You do not reach for them, hands raised obediently in the air. You say, “I bring gifts.”
And with that, the captain gives a slow, sly smile, and nods. “Alright, kid,” he says, reaching across the desk to shake your hand. “You have yourself a position among my crew. Welcome aboard.”
~
2024, Karuizawa
When you arrive in the small town where the wedding is being held, Satoru turns to look at you. “Hungry?”
You nod eagerly. “Starving.”
He glances out the window, eyes searching from behind his sunglasses. “Feel like having soba?”
“Sure.”
He pulls off and parks, and you can see his car attracting some eyes from pedestrians passing by. You watch their eyes trail over the luxury vehicle, and then you glance over at Satoru, who’s smiling at you.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks. “To have something that others envy.”
You watch him for a moment before nodding a little. “Yeah,” you say, finally looking away. “It does.”
The two of you have a simple dinner together, still allowing yourself time for small talk. He asks about work, and your hobbies, and stays away from family, for which you’re grateful. And you ask about him, until your bowls are empty and you’re still left chatting animatedly across the table.
Then he leads you back towards the car, and this time he opens the door for you. You can’t help but blush as you thank him.
The drive to the hotel is another half hour; the town you’re staying in is outside of Karuizawa, and the hotel is, indeed, the only one in town. Once you’re arrived and parked, Satoru steps out and takes your bags, while you take the garment bags, holding them over your shoulder by the hangers. You walk inside and towards the check-in desk.
The front desk lady smiles and greets you. “Hello. What’s the name for the reservation?”
“Satoru Gojo,” he says, voice low and smooth as he checks in. You look around at the quaint hotel, trying not to listen to the financial gift he’s giving you for not making you pay him for your half of the room. Then when he’s given two keycards, he hands you the second one and leads you down the hallway.
“Satoru!” a voice calls, and you assume it’s his friend, perhaps even the one who’s getting married. You turn, and so does Satoru, and your smile goes strained when you don’t see a friend.
You see someone with the same striking white hair as him – clearly a family trait.
“Hey, Akari,” he greets, nodding politely, since he’s unable to wave with both hands occupied by your luggage.
Akari walks over, smiling brightly. “Hey,” she says, and turns her attention to you. “You must be the famed date! I’m Akari, nice to meet you.” She sticks out a hand.
You fumble with the garment bags before shaking her hand, internally cringing at how sweaty your hand must be. You tell her your name, and then you ask. “And you’re Satoru’s…?”
“Cousin! Though, not the lucky bride-to-be, that’s Emi. You’ll get to meet her tomorrow, of course, and the others!”
“Great,” you say, though you seem to have forgotten your enthusiasm at the door.
It’s silent between the three of you for a moment. Then Akari speaks again. “Well, it was nice to meet you!” she says, and you and Satoru echo the sentiment. Then you all, awkwardly, walk in the same direction towards your rooms.
“Oh!” she exclaims, laughing sheepishly as you come to your door. “It looks like we’re neighbors! Good to know.”
You smile weakly before reaching for your card and trying to shove it into the slot with shaky hands. Jesus, could you just get this conversation over with–
Satoru reaches around you to steady your hand, and the door unlocks with a click. He jerks his chin towards Akari. “See you tomorrow,” he says before ushering you inside.
“Bye!” she chirps, and you can feel her curious eyes on you as Satoru shuts the door, locking it behind you.
You look up at him, gritting out under your breath, “You didn’t tell me this was your cousin’s wedding. You said ‘friend.’”
He shrugs, entirely nonchalant. “What’s the difference?”
You give him an incredulous look. “‘What’s the difference?’ Satoru, you’re supposed to warn someone before they meet your entire family!”
He just smiles. “I was going to tell you tonight. Surprise!”
You just groan and push your way past him into the hotel room.
It’s a very nice room, with a large king-sized bed by the windows and a small kitchen island with a bar.
You are, despite your sour mood, impressed by the accommodations. Accommodations which are, of course, free to you, since Satoru seems to be loaded. “Wow,” you say appreciatively.
He grins and places your duffle bag on the bed, beside his small roller carry on. You hang your dress and his suit in the small closet. “Nice, right?”
“Very.” You come over and grab your bag, digging through until you find your bag of toiletries and your pajamas. “Need the bathroom?”
“Nope, go ahead.”
You wash up at the sink, brushing your teeth and starting your skin care. You poke at a particular pimple you’re hoping to cover up with makeup tomorrow, now cursing its existence after finding out this is Satoru’s family you’ll be meeting.
You don’t know why it seems so important to you. It’s not like you guys are really dating, anyway.
You sigh and put down the washcloth, changing into your pajama shorts and t-shirt. Part of you wishes you’d packed something a little cuter, but then you shake the thought away; absolutely no funny business will be happening while his family members are in the next room.
You walk out of the bathroom, padding over to the bed. You climb in on one end, watching Satoru whistle happily on his way to the bathroom. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest with sharing the room with you. Part of you wonders how often he’s done something like this. You just shake your head at the idea; you don’t want to know.
When he comes back, he’s dressed in sweatpants and a comfy looking white t-shirt. You have to fight to keep your eyes from trailing over his arms, his chest, his face. You look away, digging through your bag for the book you packed. You settle yourself against the pillows, opening up the book and setting your bookmark on your lap.
He chuckles as he climbs into bed beside you. You glance at him and ask, “What?”
He leans in towards your ear, close enough you can feel his minty fresh breath, and whispers, “You’re a nerd.” Then he pulls away, grinning, and sinks under the covers, rolling over so his back is to you.
You’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t want to hang out anymore. But you can’t blame him; you did spend several hours in the car, and another hour at dinner. You suppose he’s earned some quiet time.
He sits on his phone for a while, the sound of TikToks filling the quiet room as you try to focus on reading. Every so often, he lets out a soft snort at whatever he’s watching, and you can’t help but smile at the sound each time. Then, after a half hour or so of scrolling, he reaches over and turns off the light on his bedside table.
“Night,” he says, bringing the blanket up around his shoulders.
“Good night,” you reply, voice soft.
You stay up reading for a while longer.
You can’t help but facepalm and let out a soft groan when he does, indeed, snore softly into his pillow.
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additional notes: everyone just pretend they have Macy's in Japan, okay? hi! i know this chapter was pretty americanized, with the long drive and everything, but i hope it was still enjoyable! i really tried my best to get some good banter in here, so i hope you liked it! i love these two, and i hope you do too. that's it! see you in the next one :))
thank you for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next
(taglist: @inlove-maze, @jotarohat, @moonchhu, @elitesanjisimp)
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nattaphum · 2 years ago
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CHEMISTRY:
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POETRY:
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WIZARDRY:
❤️
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hood-ex · 2 years ago
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I once read a book where a character who had just one of everything - one fork, one plate, etc. - because he considered more than that just pointless stuff he'd eventually have to move told another that she made him want to have two plates, and that might be the most Dick and Donna vibes I've ever gotten out of anything not actually about Dick and Donna.
Well now I'm thinking about Dick buying two mugs and keeping one for himself and giving the other to Donna as a gift, but Dick's mug eventually burns along with the rest of Dick's apartment during the Blockbuster fiasco, so then after Donna dies and there's a funeral reception at her apartment, Dick finds the twin mug in Donna's kitchen, and he takes it up to the roof with him and cries.
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Teen Titans/Outsiders Secret Files
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silvesi · 1 year ago
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Only took Fedarys and Dralsin about 9 years, 2 deaths, an uncounted number of Vampire Beast Creature attacks and a whole lotta unhealthy coping mechanisms to settle down in a little house in Echovald. I am sure nothing bad will ever happen now because they're normal and love each other 👍
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honeymooony · 2 years ago
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genuinely can’t stop thinking about the fact that phillip felt so betrayed by caleb choosing evelyn over him that he killed his own brother and every time he tried to resurrect his brother through cloning him, the cycle continued. every time, every single time caleb was brought back to life, he’d meet a wild witch—he’d meet evelyn—and choose her over phillip every time. it didn’t matter how much phillip tried isolating or directing or controlling caleb, the result was inevitable
and after continuously choosing to leave phillip behind, the one lifetime where evelyn and caleb meet and they don’t choose each other, then they’re finally free from the curse. a final love letter from evelyn to caleb, setting him free from his brother even if now they won’t get to be together in this lifetime. the level of brain rot i’m experiencing just thinking about this
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asakurahaos · 2 months ago
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that vid of lino choosing to marry chan is giving me sooooo many new ppl to block 🥰
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b0ytemper · 3 months ago
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i do ship jayvik but i swear 90% of the time y’all are huffing that “omg they made eye contact” juice.
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justauthoring · 11 months ago
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jerk.
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because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.
a/n: wooooooohhhhh i love soulmate aus so much omg
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader
part two. part three.
You’ve known he was your soulmate from the first day at U.A. 
When he’d bumped into you, steaming with anger in that way he regularly was and had spat at you; “move it, extra, or i’ll make you” – and you’d known then because those were the words written across you hip since you’d turn five and it had manifested with your quirk.
Because that was how the world was. Nowadays, it was odd to find someone without a quirk and even harder to find someone without a soulmate and you’d grown up your whole life having those awful words written on your skin. Had grown up knowing that for whatever reason, the soulmate you’d been given didn’t say warm, intimate words to you or even just simply generic words. Your friends had always had such nice sentences from their soulmates, with pretty words or a happy greeting.
And in yours you’d been called an extra.
Whatever the hell that meant.
You’ve never been excited to meet your soulmate. Not once. Not when you were five, or eight or twelve or when you started noticing people in a way you hadn’t before, more romantically. Not when you started maturing and growing up. Those words glared at you every time you stared at them and you didn’t want a single thing to do with your soulmate.
Not ever.
That is only doubled when you realize who your soulmate is. Maybe there was always a small part of you that hoped the words were misunderstood; you’d make scenarios up in your head about how those words could be teasing or even just a misunderstanding. 
When they’re spat at you by an intimidating blonde man that looks like there’s actual steam pouring from his ears, with piercing red eyes that cut into you like you’d done some horrible thing to deserve his anger… you understand then that they weren’t teasing and they aren’t a misunderstanding. They’re cruel and they’re mean and dismissive and hurtful and every horrible thing piled together by a man who is even worse beyond just his first words to you.
So you make it your goal that he never finds out you’re his soulmate in return.
You avoid him. Desperately. You’re barely a person in his own head so it isn’t all that hard to do. Even as the rest of the class grows closer and bonds, it seems Bakugou is just as content to ignore everyone else as you are to be ignored by him. Sure, some worm their way into his heart, like Kirishima or Midoriya and Shoto, but nobody else really seemed to matter. At least, you didn’t. You had the same friends, you were in the same class, and eventually, you ended up sleeping in the same building. 
You saw him everyday. You ate in the same kitchen and relaxed in the same living room. You trained in the same gym and overall, were consistently near each other. But you didn’t speak to him and he’d never tried to speak to you after that first day. Months pass and it continues on this way and you’re sure he doesn’t even know what your name is.
Or that you really even exist.
And you’re happy with that.
Content.
Because while the idea of a soulmate was romantic and heartwarming and something you dreamed about, him being your soulmate sounds horrible.
And it was best he just never even knew.
He was so focused on becoming number one, you’re not sure he even cares about finding his. 
Which is fine. Works better for you in the end.
-
“Y/L/N and Bakugou. You two are teamed up for combat practice today.”
You freeze at Aizawa-sensei’s words, body tensing as your eyes instantly shoot towards Bakugou. He’s already looking at you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he lets his eyes drag across you; it’s clear he’s assessing you. Maybe trying to remember your name or if he’s ever seen you before.
It wouldn’t surprise you if he was.
Somehow, in all your months of being in the same class as Bakugou, you’ve never once been partnered up with him for anything. You think once you may have been put in a group with him, but that was with several others so it'd been easy enough to avoid him.
One on one though? That was going to be harder.
Way harder.
“Good luck,” Mina calls from beside you, squeezing your shoulder before she moves to meet up with her partner; it looks like she’d gotten Jirou. Lucky. 
Watching everyone else disperse tells you that you can’t just stand there like an idiot anymore. You take a deep breath, ignoring the nerves that course through you as you make your way over to Bakugou. As you make contact with him again, you realize he’s not moving; obviously he expects you to come to him.
Jerk.
When you reach him, the two of you just stare at each other and since you’re certainly not going to speak first, there’s a moment of awkward silence before Bakugou grunts; “ready?”
You nod and he isn’t confused by your silence so the two of you walk off to an open area in the gym. He stands across from you, gives you a look and then is racing towards you. You’re not sure why Aizawa-sensei teams you up with Bakugou because your quirks definitely don’t mesh well together and it’s clear Bakugou is stronger, but you’re able to hold up well enough on your own.
You even manage to land a hit on Bakugou once that clearly surprises him and you take it as a win.
And a little payback for being such an ass.
Then, when the class is over and you���ve promptly been knocked on your ass in return, you’re surprised to see a hand stretched out in front of you, invitingly. You blink, eyes drifting upwards only to meet Bakugou’s as he stares down at you. He’s not smiling and he doesn’t look all that friendly, but he nods his head in recognition.
“Good job.”
The words are such a shock your brain short circuits for a minute. Not only are the words the nicest thing you’ve ever heard Bakugou say (which is saying a lot) but his voice wasn’t gruff or aggressive like it normally is–it was… soft, almost? Maybe not soft but… normal. Just… calm.
Your heart is lurching at the sound before you even realize and then you’re pushing yourself up to your feet, basically smacking his hand out of the way and running out of the room without another word.
-
After that, Bakugou doesn’t seem to leave you alone.
He’s everywhere.
And not everywhere in the way he had been before. He’s not there in passing or just across the room from you, he’s asking to train with you or deliberately making sure he’s the only one left for you to partner with. He seems to always be in the kitchen when you want to eat or in the living room when you want to vedge after a long day.
He’s constantly there.
Not to mention, gone are his glares or looks of indifference. He’s always looking at you, making sure you know he knows you’re there; even if the two of you are in class or with a group of classmates. He makes note of acknowledging you. The others seem to notice too because the girls start asking what you did to get Bakugou’s attention and you promptly tell them you have no idea.
Of course, they don’t know Bakugou’s your soulmate so they don’t really get the scope of your panic. And it’s not that you don’t trust them, especially after all you’d been through as a class, but more because the less that knew, the less likely Bakugou was to know.
But now? Now it was getting hard to avoid him and it was even harder not to say something without it looking obvious why you weren’t.
You were promptly fucked.
You are able to stall it for all of two weeks before you’re cornered by Bakugou.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
Your wide eyes fall on him, not only shocked by his presence but panicked by his words because there were few things a sentence like that could mean. 
A quick glance around tells you there’s no way to get past him without Bakugou being able to block him and since it had already been made clear that he was in fact stronger than you, you knew there was no escape. Everyone else was gone since you’d snuck out of training to grab a bite to eat and it seemed like Bakugou had snuck out the same to follow you.
So yeah, you were screwed.
Bakugou lets out a huff at your silence and he takes another step towards you, further crowding you and you swallow thickly when he steps into your personal space. You move to walk back but then your back is pressing against the wall of the kitchen and Bakugou is completely shrouding you, it's hard to look anywhere but at him.
“Do you think I don’t know why you won’t speak to me?”
Inhaling sharply, you turn your head to the right, determined to avoid his steely red eyes that feel like they’re piercing into your very soul. You focus on the handle to the cupboard to your right and try to ignore the growl he lets out in response.
He takes another step forward and suddenly he’s inches apart, close enough you can feel his breath drift across your skin, warm to the touch.
“It wasn’t hard to figure out after you ran from me that day when we were partnered up,” Bakugou continues. “Especially when I started to realize you’ve never talked to me. And then? Avoiding me for the last two weeks? It’s not hard to figure out.”
You halt, freezing, waiting for the words—
“You’re my soulmate.”
You refuse to look at him. You won’t look at him. 
Maybe if you just ignore him, he’ll go away. He’ll just… leave. He doesn’t like being ignored, that much you’ve gathered and so if you just refuse to–
Suddenly his hands are on your arms and his chest is against yours and he’s way too close. “Hey,” he huffs, “look at me.”
You don’t listen. Even as you tense beneath his grip, you refuse to do anything, to give him any sort of reaction. If you give him a reaction, he’ll get what he wants. And you’re not thinking straight. You need to just wait, wait until he’s bored and then you can think—figure this out because surely–
“Y/L/N,” he calls and you’re surprised he even knows your name, “look at me. Hey. I’m right, aren’t I? Why else wouldn't you fucking looking at me.” You continue to remain silent and Bakugou lets out a low growl. “Fucks sake. I’m not leaving until you say something so you might as well—”
“—I’m not saying anything to you because you’re a jerk!”
Well, that certainly could’ve gone better.
The words leave your lips before you even realize you’ve said them. The second you’re done, your chest is heaving and you finally turn your head, eyes snapping to Bakugou’s, fearing his reaction at your rather blunt and rude words.
But, a second later, instead of being angry like you’d expected, Bakugou starts… laughing.
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen the boy laugh, certainly not that genuinely. His lips are parted and his eyes have squeezed shut and the laugh that leaves his lips is pure and genuine and loud and it’s so unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him you’re stunned stupid as you stare back at him with your lips left parted, jaw slacked.
As his laughter fades, Bakugou meets your gaze.
“I’ve been waiting to hear those words for years,” he starts, still smiling–actually smiling this time. Not a smirk. But an affectionate grin. “Wasn’t sure what I did to deserve those words, but it seems fitting.”
Blinking, once, twice, you sputter, snapped out of your stupor. “I–I… You jerk!”
“I think we’ve established that already, babe.”
You barely even notice the nickname. If it wasn’t for the way your heart races at the sound, you’re sure your stupefied mind wouldn’t have caught it because seriously, what the hell?
“You… this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything!” You cry out, not sure if you’re defending yourself for him or more for yourself. Why are you even defending yourself? And what against? “You’re insufferable. And rude. And cocky. And a jerk.”
Bakugou just snorts. “What are your words?” He asks, smile fading slightly as his expression turns more serious; almost solemn. Regretful. “Must’ve been bad if you had to avoid me.”
You’re surprised by the guilt in his tone, but it gives you the confidence to answer. “‘Move it, extra, or I’ll make you’,” you mumble, fiddling with your hands. “You said it the first day we started here at U.A.”
“Shit,” Bakugou curses, running a hand through his hair. “So you’ve been avoiding me for months?”
Your eyes flick to his before lowering and that gives him his answer.
He shifts. “L-Listen… uh, sorry about… about cornering you like this.”
Blinking, you tilt your head up. You’re shocked to see a red tinge to his cheeks. 
“I just needed to know,” he finishes explaining. “And I’m sorry about that shit I said to you. My soulmate doesn’t deserve that crap but I can’t take it back, so I’ll just make sure I make up for it.”
You’re positive now that you’re hallucinating this whole thing.
“What?”
He blinks down at you at your screech before smirking.
“Well, I mean, as we get to know each other,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I’m shit with words but I’ll try for you. I'm good with showing though,” and he looks a little too pleased with himself.
But you can barely focus on the very blatant meaning of his words, you're still trying to catch up. “You…” and you hesitate, not sure if you’re hearing this correctly. “You want to get to know me?”
And he looks at you like you’re dumb.
“Duh,” he shrugs, “you’re my soulmate.”
“What about being number one?”
“What about it?” he argues, shaking his head. “That’ll still happen. You think I can’t do that while also dating you?”
Your eyes widen; “dating?”
“Yeah,” he says, again like you’re dumb. He takes a step towards you, once again closing the gap between you and his hands falling on your waist, pulling a gasp from your lips at the touch that causes him to smirk, as if proud. “You’re my soulmate. Of course we’re going to date.”
“I barely know you!”
“That’s why we’ll get to know each other.”
You just stare up at him.
“You really are insufferable,” is what you manage to say in the end, exasperated. Your shoulders fall and your body sags but you don’t pull away from his touch and even if you’re not fully aware of it, you’re pretty sure you end up leaning into him.
“You’ll learn to love it,” he shrugs, still grinning. “Now, let’s go back to training. We need to work on your defense.”
Blinking, you turn to him as he shifts the both of you, guiding you forwards. “Hey!”
“What,” he shrugs down at you. “It’s true. You were barely able to block my hits when we fought.”
You can’t find the words to say so you simply let him lead you along, trying to ignore the way his hands make your skin tingle and your heart race. Or, really, the way that despite everything, you really don’t mind.
If anything, you actually like it.
Fuck—he really is a jerk.
6K notes · View notes
jaeger-tech · 1 year ago
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Pacific Rim Dashboard Simulator
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🙇‍♀️ alphamycherno Follow
i don't know about this "let's build a wall" thing like. where's the sexiness? the vibes? what's the point of war if we don't even have hot people in big fuckass robots anymore
🎴 coyote-t Follow
there are so many legitimate, important reasons to protest the wall of life, but whatever it takes i guess. sure. it's not fuckable enough
5,345 notes
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🐉 exxxtraterrestrial Follow
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happy kaiju blue monday!!
#happy kaiju blue monday
137,294 notes
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🦅 ppdc-confessions
Anonymous asked:
I'm a janitor at the HK shatterdome and certain two german scientists should either fuck or finally kill each other at this point, I don't care. They're always in the lab no matter the time of day so I can't avoid them and so they try to get me (the janitor) to choose sides in their domestics!! I refuse to step in that lab again and involve myself in whatever the fuck they've got going on. They'll just have to clean that shit themselves
#this is the third confession about these scientists this week are you guys okay
306 notes
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🍱 scissure
are we forgetting that PPDC is literally military like you people are not immune to propaganda
☠ buena-guy Follow
You are right. The kaiju are here to bring us to justice, there's no sense in fighting them. If you also feel like this, you can find out more on my blog ❤
🍱 scissure
SILENCE, CULTIST
870 notes
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💃 shatterdo-me Follow
what if we kissed in the drift 🥺👉👈 and we were both girls 😳
#ok but for real what do you mean i have to go get into the MILITARY to become a JAEGER PILOT if i want to find my SOULMATE this is so fucked up #release the tech #for the gays
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6K notes · View notes
fxstpace · 4 months ago
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oh, snap!
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summary: you and jake sim might have been best friends once upon a time, but not anymore. now, you barely talk to each other—so you decide to prove the universe wrong when you find out that he’s your soulmate, because there’s no way both of you are compatible.
⇢ pairing: jake sim x fem!reader ⇢ genres: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers au, soulmate au, college au ⇢ word count: 7.0k ⇢ warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual jokes, soulmate lore i made up ⇢ a/n: this is a fic i had posted on my now deactivated blog, which i’ve made minor modifications to. thanks for reading!
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The universe has to be fucking with you.
You aren’t one to believe in manifestation or the law of attraction or whatever other nonsense your TikTok feed provides you with. You think it’s a total waste of time, energy, and resources. 
Right now, however, you’re manifesting with all your might—eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clasped in front of your chest, only one thought running through your head: Please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be—
You open one eye cautiously. You lift up the pinkie finger of your right hand equally carefully. 
Fuck.
You drop your hands and let your head fall onto the desk in front of you. A dull thud echoes around you, and normally, you would be apologetic since you’re at the library, but because you’re wallowing in self-pity you can’t bring yourself to care. A frown mars your forehead. Maybe you’re manifesting wrong. Is that even a thing? Perhaps you should ask your friend Yizhou how to do it; she’s pretty popular on Instagram so surely she’d have some idea. Maybe one of her fellow influencer friends is a manifester. (Is that what they call it?)
You lift your head up and stare morosely at the red thread twined around your little finger. It winds down the floor, swirling and looping in gentle curves. You glare at the person it’s connected to.
Jake Sim, that little piece of shit.
The object of your disdain is seated one table away from yours. He’s hunched over his laptop, occasionally scribbling something into the messy notebook in front of him. His glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, and every time he pushes them back up, you feel a tug on your finger. 
This brings you to the following question: Does he not know you’re his soulmate?
You have three answers. One: He knows, but he doesn’t care. Two: He doesn’t know. Three: He doesn’t care.
The second option is rare but not unheard of. There have been several cases where people vehemently deny the existence of soulmates and refuse to believe in it. Such people never get to see the red thread that is wrapped around their finger, even though it exists. Truthfully, you feel bad for the people on the other side of the thread—the non-believer’s alleged soulmate. They will forever watch from afar, never going too close, but never straying away either. It sounds lonely, more than anything else. 
You push that thought away. If Jake doesn’t know, it should be a good thing, right? You don’t need a soulmate to survive. You can just continue with your life as it is—attending classes, hanging out with your friends… Yeah, you’re happy with everything you have.
Another tug at your pinkie forces out an annoyed huff from your mouth. You glare at the perpetrator, still engrossed in his work. To be fair, you didn’t know Jake was your soulmate until very recently either. You knew the thread existed but didn’t know who it was connected to. When you were younger, you and your friends would have tons of fun pulling at the thread to annoy your unknown soulmate. Getting a pull back was a source of glee for seven-year-old you. Now, it just fills you with dread.
“Oi.” Someone’s breath tickles your ear.
“Fucking hell!” 
You swat at your best friend’s face, successfully smacking his cheek. Taehyun grunts in pain. “Uncalled for.”
“What the fuck, Taehyun?” You grouse. “Don’t scare me like that. Sorry ‘bout your cheek.”
The boy rolls his eyes, sitting down on the chair next to you and dumping his tote bag on the table. “I’d feel better if you actually meant your apology. Also, why aren’t you studying? Our midterms start in a week and staring at Lover Boy isn’t gonna help you pass your classes.”
“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “And I was… studying.”
“Right. That’s exactly why none of your books are open.”
“Shut up, people are staring.”
Taehyun raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. You’re not wrong—people are staring. Well, specifically, one person. You flex your little finger a little, straightening it out and then bending it again. If Jake feels any sort of yank, he doesn’t show it. Not that you’re interested, of course. You’re just… observing. So is he, clearly. He peers over his glasses at you both, his expression not betraying anything.
You flinch when Taehyun pinches your side. Turning back to him, you’re ready to yell at him for being an annoying asshole, when he fixes you with a pitying sort of look. You swallow.
“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t overthink, okay? He’s alone right now, you might as well talk to him about this.”
You blink uneasily, eyes flitting between your friend and the unopened book in front of you.
“How long are you gonna avoid him? You’ve been hiding this for months. And… he has a right to know,” Taehyun finishes, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.
You swallow again, around the lump in your throat that’s been sitting there for months. You found out that Jake was your soulmate months ago. Yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to confront him or tell him about it. A far cry from the whole entire concept of soulmates—isn’t he supposed to be your missing puzzle piece? Certainly not, if you’re too nervous to even approach him. The universe must have made a mistake. Whatever higher being exists must have assigned you to the wrong person.
Taehyun is right, though. (You’re not going to admit it to him, of course; there’s no need to boost his already inflated ego.)
Jake Sim does have a right to know that he’s your soulmate. 
You shift uncomfortably. Taehyun drops his gaze with a sigh. “I know you two have a history but can’t you just sort this out?”
“I… can’t,” you say lamely. 
Your best friend looks sadly at you. You look away, fidgeting with the cover of your textbook. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a girl make her way to Jake’s table. He perks up immediately, greeting her with a soft smile. She sits down next to him and grabs Jake’s laptop, angling it towards her like it’s second nature. It probably is, you think bitterly.
Another reason why you can’t tell Jake Sim about this whole Situation: He has a girlfriend.
Park Chaerin meets your eyes and waves at you cheerfully. You wave back, feeling sick to your stomach.
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You press the tip of your pen into your notebook, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Even the half-empty cup of coffee next to your laptop has done little to wake you up. Morning classes are the bane of your existence, and as a night owl, you vehemently dislike getting up early. Your professor rattles on about an assignment due in a week. You stifle another yawn behind your hand.
Feeling a yank on your little finger, you press the palm of your hand on the desk and ignore it. Jake Sim is sitting right next to you—courtesy of both of you having arrived five minutes late, and the only seats left were in the last row. Your Friday 8 AM lecture on the Quantum Theory of Electromagnetism is normally interesting, but Professor Jang makes even the most stimulating topics seem dry. You usually end up resorting to self-study sessions in order to understand everything. 
Jake is scribbling something next to you. He’s probably doodling. He used to do that a lot when he was little, too. You recall pages upon pages of maths notes interspersed with tiny drawings of dinosaurs and dragons in the margins. They had made you laugh at the time. 
“Hey,” he whispers.
You blink.
“Hi,” you say.
Jake grins at you—and you’re dazzled, for a moment. It’s been so long since you’ve had that smile of his being directed at you. You’ve seen him smile at other people on campus—his new friends, his girlfriend, acquaintances—all from afar, and you push down the bitter sting of rejection that pricks you every time. After so many months, it feels like you were in a pitch-black room all this time, and someone suddenly turned on the lights. It’s blinding.
Your former friend caps his pen and leans back in his chair. “Did you get enough sleep?”
“Um, yeah,” you answer. Just to be polite, you add, “...Did you?”
“Kind of.” Jake winces.
“Oh.”
“I was trying to understand the topic before this. Y’know—” he meets your eyes expectantly— “the whole Kronig-Penney model and the Bloch function and all that. I spent, like, two hours on them,” he says sheepishly.
“Oh, uh, yeah, those are kinda difficult,” you offer.
You’re still perplexed by this whole situation. Admittedly, after weeks of minimal contact with your childhood best friend, this isn’t how you imagined your reunion would go. All awkwardness aside, however, it feels… nice, talking to him again. It’s hard to move past the last few months, but there’s nothing wrong with this, right? You can think of it as two classmates bonding over a hard course they willingly chose. Two classmates who’ve known each other since they were toddlers just learning to walk, but you deliberately don’t think of that.
Jake hums. “The graphs get super confusing.”
“I guess,” you say. 
He leans forward abruptly, elbows knocking on the edge of the desk. His stare on you is intent, focused. “Is your number still the same?”
You gape at him, mouth open like a blown-out fish. “Uh… yeah. Why?”
“So I can text you if I don’t understand anything,” Jake says simply, easily, still sporting that same easygoing smile of his. Your stomach twists into knots, and you force yourself to appear calm and not like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.
“I think you should’ve asked me first,” you manage to say.
He looks at you strangely, a dip in his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”
Why, indeed.
Jake has known you for years; this is an undeniable fact. Even now, he probably knows you better than anyone else does—or ever could. So there’s absolutely no way he can’t make sense of the stifling awkwardness that surrounds you both.
However, the same holds true for you: You know Jake Sim just as well as he knows you. You know he’s trying to bridge a gap, make amends in a way only he does. You would be a fool if you didn’t take it in stride.
You crack a small smile. “Fair enough.”
He picks up his pen and twirls it between his fingers idly, before saying, “I’ll text you about other stuff, too.”
“Okay.”
“Great.”
Jake is all smiles and sunshine. He starts doodling again—what looks like a misshapen traffic cone of some sort. You look away, and tuck this little slice of goldenness into your rapidly rabbiting heart. 
This is not good. You pay no heed to the thread around your little finger, and pick up your own pen. Angling your notebook away from your deskmate, you begin to write.
REASONS WHY JAKE SIM CANNOT BE MY SOULMATE FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT
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#1. he doesn’t know you as well as he should (okay, maybe he does)
You have no clue how you ended up studying with Jake Sim and Park Chaerin, of all people.
Your own friends, Kang Taehyun and Kim Gaeul are utterly nonplussed at this new situation. You give them a helpless shrug when they elbow each other and raise their eyebrows at you. The library is fairly empty at this hour, which makes it an ideal time to study without the distractions of other people. Of course, you didn’t consider the two people who’ve decided you’re a physics expert and require your guidance.
You humour them because you’re a nice person—not because you’re weak to Jake’s entreaties and his offer of buying you food for a whole week.
Chaerin smiles at your friends. “Hey, guys! Come join us.”
Taehyun is the first to blink out of his confusion. He moves forward, pulling out the chair opposite yours and settling down. “Thanks. We won’t bother you guys much.”
Gaeul nods her head. “Yeah, I have a bunch of assignments to finish.” She chuckles nervously, smoothing out her hair.
“No problem,” Jake supplies. “Your friend is super smart.”
Taehyun raises his eyebrows, pointing an incredulous finger at you. “You mean…?”
“Hey!” You swing your leg and kick Taehyun’s shin from under the table. He winces in pain. Gaeul giggles, and so does Chaerin. Jake lets out an amused snort.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” you say, “this bit isn’t that important from a test point of view, so just go over it to get the general idea.” You mark the paragraph you were referring to with a pencil.
Chaerin and Jake nod in tandem, like a pair of bobbleheads. You bite your lip to stifle your smile—they’re so perfect together, it’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jake’s end of the string was connected to Chaerin’s instead. Is that even possible? You’ll have to google it up.
The thought puts a significant damper on your mood, and you turn away, drawing back from the pair sitting next to you. 
Instead, you lock eyes with Taehyun, who’s glaring at you with enough intensity to drill a hole through your forehead. Talk to him, he mouths. You give him a small shake of your head.
You can’t talk to him about anything serious. Explaining physics to him and his girlfriend in the presence of your own best friends is a sort of safe zone; you don’t have to discuss anything personal whatsoever. All you have to do is prattle off a list of formulae and derivations and graphs, and hope that what you’re telling them to study is actually going to be asked on your midterm next week.
Taehyun rolls his eyes so hard, you wonder how they haven’t popped out of their sockets. He’s exasperated, you can tell—and Gaeul has probably been receiving the brunt of it all, because he would never outrightly say he’s upset with you. He would rant to Gaeul instead, trusting that she would tell you everything he told her but more nicely. That’s how your little trio circles back to each other.
You shift uncomfortably. Gaeul catches your eye and gives you a small, sympathetic smile. Your lips twitch upwards slightly.
“Wow,” Chaerin says, “I can’t believe we finished a whole unit in, like, one and a half hours.” She directs the next part to you. “You’re really smart. Don’t listen to Taehyun.”
“Y/N doesn’t listen to me anyway,” your friend grumbles. Gaeul hides her snort behind her styrofoam cup of coffee.
Speaking of which, you could really use some caffeine too. Anything to get away from Jake Sim and his quiet, knowing… aura, is the word you settle for. He wasn’t always this quiet—he used to be loud and raucous when it was just the two of you in high school—so while this new development isn’t surprising, it certainly is jarring.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” you announce to the table at large. “Anyone wanna come with?”
“I’ll come,” Jake says immediately. “I owe you for teaching us.”
“Oh, um.” You attempt to smile. “I—”
“Please go,” Taehyun says suddenly, his tone beseeching. “I need coffee too but I don’t trust Y/N to not put salt in mine or something.”
You gape at him, betrayal flooding your features. Gaeul snorts again. Chaerin just looks at you and Jake alternately. Jake’s lips twitch upwards. “Y/N still does that?”
You whirl around to face him. “What?”
“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Gaeul pipes up. “Do elaborate.”
“I second that,” Chaerin adds. 
You feel your cheeks and the back of your neck heat up. You want to implore your former best friend to keep his pretty mouth shut, but your ego doesn’t let you grovel in front of three other people. Jake raises his eyebrows, lips parting to form a small ‘o’. He smiles, a little bit sheepish. Before he can say anything, you intervene.
“That was one time, Taehyun!” you snap. “And it was by accident. Why would I willingly put salt in your coffee?”
Taehyun raises an eyebrow at you, but inside, you know he’s laughing uncontrollably at your predicament. “Who knows? You might wanna poison me for being cooler than you.”
“What is this, high school? And why the fuck would I want a murder on my hands? I’m too young to go to jail.”
Chaerin tries to muffle her giggles with her hand. Both you and Taehyun turn simultaneously to look at her. “Sorry.” She giggles again. “You two talk like an old married couple.”
“Gross,” you say, at the same time Taehyun draws out an, “Ew,” and extends the last syllable like a child in kindergarten.
“Oh my God,” Gaeul says. “Chaerin, you’re a genius. I see it too.”
“Not you too,” Taehyun groans.
The two begin bickering again, and Chaerin joins them with enthusiasm, adding her own little tidbits of support for Gaeul in between the conversation. During all this, Jake remains remarkably quiet, an amused smile tugging on his lips. 
You turn to him, a rush of sudden embarrassment making your cheeks heat up. It occurs to you that he’s never seen you like this—laughing and joking around with your friends. Friends that don’t include him. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Let’s go get coffee.”
“Okay.” 
You and Jake push your chairs back under the table and exit the library. The coffee shop is two storeys down, so you make a beeline for the staircase. Your former best friend follows you, his undone shoelaces slapping on the tiles. He still doesn’t tie his shoelaces properly, then. Perhaps he hasn’t changed as much as you thought.
“Hey, by the way,” he says, “I was gonna tell Taehyun about the time I put salt in your coffee.”
“...I know.” Your answer is short, clipped. You force your shoulders to relax—there’s no need to tense up when Jake Sim is around.
“Oh. Uh, okay then.” 
You don’t look at him, but you’re fairly certain he’s doing that thing he always does when he’s feeling awkward: A little rub of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. It’s a tic he’s always had, from the time you were in elementary school, and it isn’t any different now.
A stifling silence falls upon you both. You almost wish Taehyun and Gaeul were here, bringing Chaerin with them in tow. The three of them seemed to get along well; the chances of the five of you hanging out outside of college are high, now.
Of course, that also means you and Jake will have to pretend like everything’s alright between you both, and that your decades-long friendship wasn’t shattered by one single argument.
You round the corner to the staircase and begin the descent downwards. Jake holds onto the railing on the other side. Despite everything, you think Jake is the braver one between you two. 
He breaks the silence as easily as he broke your heart, and asks:
“Do you still take your macchiato with two packets of sugar?”
“Yeah,” you say softly.
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#2. he wants to be friends again (why?)
You blame Kang Taehyun for this.
Of course he had to forget to pick up the pizza from the local restaurant before coming back to his place. Of course he didn’t check the weather forecast beforehand, and even if he did, of course he didn’t tell you it was going to rain. Of fucking course he asks you to pick up the food for him because your classes only ended at 4 and the get-together to celebrate the end of midterms was at 4:30.
If you had the power, you would curse your best friend to oblivion. You grip your phone in your hand, gritting your teeth and staring down at the screen.
Group Chat: the holy trinity of dumbasses 🤡 [16:12] You: it’s fukcing pouring here and i didnt bring my car [16:12] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): *Fucking [16:13] You: yeah it’s something you’ve never done before [16:13] You: i have the pizza [16:13] You: come and pick me up or im throwing it in the dustbin. [16:14] gaeul 🤍: u shouldn’t waste food y/n >:( [16:14] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): You’re making Gaeul cry >:( [16:14] gaeul 🤍: girl what [16:15] You: aw cute [16:15] You: seriously tho [16:16] You: come pick me up [16:17] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): OK, I’m on my way [16:17] You: FUCKING FINALLY
The plastic bag with all the pizza boxes dangles off your wrist, cutting into your skin. The steps that lead to the inside of the restaurant are slick with rainwater. You open Instagram and scroll through your feed mindlessly, clicking on your classmates’ stories. 
You shiver. Rainy weather always makes the temperature drop by several degrees, and your flimsy jacket isn’t enough to drive away the chill. Forget Taehyun, maybe you should’ve checked the forecast instead. Sometimes (read: most of the time) you can be just as stupid as him. You wonder how Gaeul puts up with the single brain cell you and Taehyun toss between each other like a hot potato.
Honestly, you just want to go somewhere where it’s dry and warm.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, and it takes you a whole minute to comprehend the name that shows up on the caller ID.
Jake Sim.
Why is Jake Sim calling you?
You chew on your lip nervously before swiping your thumb up and accepting his call. Bringing your phone to your ear, you let the plastic bag sway gently. The line is silent for a few seconds, as though neither of you can comprehend the fact that you’re on a call with each other. It makes sense; this is the first time in months he’s calling you.
Finally, Jake’s voice crackles over the speaker. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“I’m outside. Can you see me?”
“I, uh.” You look around quickly. The parking lot in front of you is mostly empty, a good chunk of people having escaped the rain. It’s not hard to make out the solitary figure standing outside a beaten-down Toyota, holding an umbrella aloft. “Yeah, I see you.”
“Oh, good,” he says. “Do you have an umbrella?”
“Nope. Just… pizza.”
Jake makes a noise that sounds like a warbled chuckle. “Okay, I’m coming over there.”
“...Okay.”
For some strange reason, you don’t feel like ending the call. You fumble for something to say, because it’s weird just being on a call with someone you can literally see. The tug on your little finger as he comes closer to you makes a lump form in your throat. You take a deep breath and push it down into your stomach. 
“You haven’t changed your car,” you say lightly.
Jake hums, the sound so familiar it doesn’t even surprise you until you register it. “Can’t afford a new one. Plus, it works decently.”
He strides over to you, and it’s unnecessarily sexy—the way he holds the black umbrella up with one hand and his phone to his ear with the other. You can see the speckles of rain on his grey hoodie where the raindrops bounce off the ends of the umbrella. His hair is swept to the side, lips pink with chapstick. Another yank on your pinkie finger; you clench your fist.
“Please,” you snort. “The last time I was in it, it took twenty minutes to start the engine. That was a year ago, Jake.”
He’s closer now, nearing the steps. His eyes don’t leave yours. They trace over all your features, as though he’s committing you to memory—you, with your tangled hair and tired eye bags, chapped lips and dirty sneakers. You swallow.
He puts his phone down and speaks to you directly. “I think that was the driver’s fault. But don’t worry, I can drive better now.”
You let your hand drop limply to your side. 
“Hi,” Jake says.
“Hi again,” you manage to say.
“Here, let me take that.” He reaches out for the pizza bag, but you don’t give it to him.
“It’s fine. Just… hold up the umbrella and don’t get us wet.”
Jake laughs, a short, bright sound. “I won’t.”
You step towards him, quickly slipping underneath the shelter of the umbrella above your head. It’s a tight fit—one of your shoulders pokes out, as does one of his. You grimace when your sleeve gets splattered with rain.
Jake leads the way to his ancient car, scratched and scuffed with years of use. It was his dad’s old one, a gift for him on his seventeenth birthday, one that his mom had told you about to surprise him with. It seems like a bygone history now.
“I thought Taehyun was gonna come,” you comment.
Jake looks at you strangely. “I thought you asked for me to come pick you up.”
“I… did?” You gasp at the realisation. Kang Taehyun, that fucker. “I’m sorry,” you say awkwardly. “Taehyun probably told you that I was stuck in the rain.”
“He did,” Jake confirms. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s not a problem at all.”
“Oh… okay, then.” Still, you feel guilty. Jake came all the way in the rain just because your best friend couldn’t stop being a meddling little nincompoop.
“Why wouldn’t I come?” Jake continues. His voice sounds deliberately casual. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“...Yeah. I guess.”
Jake stops near his car, fishing around in his pocket for the keys. “Look, I—I know things haven’t been the same lately, but I—” he licks his lips, another nervous tic of his— “I want you to know that I never stopped thinking of you as my best friend. Okay?”
You blink, sucking in a breath sharply. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, okay,” you say lamely.
Jake nods once, not meeting your eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve found friends like Gaeul and Taehyun. They’re good people.”
“So is Chaerin,” you say. “And so is Sunghoon.”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling faintly, unlocking the door. “And so are you.”
Sometimes, you wonder if Jake also feels a pull on his little finger. If he does, does he ever wonder where it’s from? Or does he not feel it at all? You bend your finger and shuffle into the passenger side of his car. He closes the door for you before crossing over to the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat.
Whatever the case is, one thing is for sure: Jake Sim is your soulmate, and even if he wasn’t, you’d still be in love with him.
Just like you were one year ago.
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#3. his parents adore you (and so do you, but there’s always the yearning and the aching)
“Hey, mom and dad are asking when you’re gonna visit again.”
Jake swings into your periphery, putting his phone back in his pocket. His mom had called about fifteen minutes ago to make plans for Jake to go home over the weekend. Potentially, you could also go—your childhood home is right next to his. It’s been a while since you last visited; your little sister sends you texts about how much she misses you.
He sits down on the chair next to yours, looking at you expectantly. You’re at your favourite spot in the library, one that’s been designated as you and your friends’ table. Jake and Chaerin have been officially integrated into your tiny trio; Gaeul and Chaerin get along really well, and Taehyun and Jake follow the same sports teams. Occasionally, their other friend, Park Sunghoon, joins you but he’s very quiet and mostly keeps to himself.
You don’t look up from your laptop screen when you answer, “I’m not sure.”
“Huh. Mom says you’ve said that to your mom every time she asks.”
Things between you and Jake have reached a semblance of normalcy, too. It’s not the same as it used to be—it can never be the same as it used to be—but at least the pang you feel in your chest whenever he talks to you has dulled somewhat. 
“I’ve been busy,” you say vaguely. 
“Oh, c’mon,” Jake retorts. “Our midterms were over a week ago. What’re you waiting for?”
You don’t reply. He waits for a moment before saying, “I could drive you.”
That gets your full attention. Your gaze snaps to him, mouth pressed together. 
“I mean, we literally live right next to each other, Y/N,” he continues. “It’ll save gas. And the environment.”
You snort. “Your car is more of a hazard to the environment than us not carpooling is.”
“You don’t know how to drive,” he deadpans.
“That’s not true! I can drive, I just choose not to. Saving the environment and all.” You point an accusing finger at him. “If you really care about the environment, you should take the bus home with me.”
Jake shrugs loosely. “I don’t care how we go home, as long as you come with me. I’m sure your sister misses you too.”
There it is again: That easy, light way he says things. Nonchalant and unaffected—though it affects you more than it should.
“You’ll pay for the tickets?” 
Jake’s grin is golden. “If that’s what it takes.”
That’s how you find yourself crammed in between Jake Sim and an old auntie with a flower-patterned bandana, on the bus back to your hometown three days later. The auntie gives you and Jake a few cookies she’d packed for her grandchildren, and then promptly falls asleep on your shoulder (Jake couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes when he saw the line of drool she’d left on your shirt sleeve). He offers you his own shoulder in case you want to sleep too; your cheeks heat up at the thought. It’s a bumpy ride, but after stopping at the bus stop nearest to your house, Flower Auntie sends you off with a few more cookies and a box of homemade kimchi, and you and Jake begin walking back to your neighbourhood.
Some things have changed—the playground is being renovated, your old elementary school is being repainted, the Kims who owned the local ramen shop retired and set the place up for rent. But at its heart, it’s all the same, you think. Kids still run around holding warm bungeoppang from street stalls and cartons of strawberry milk from the convenience store. Their mothers sit around and gossip about celebrities and complain about their husbands. People working corporate jobs curse under their breaths about their bosses and their unforgiving schedules. It’s late in the evening when you arrive, a bag containing all of Flower Auntie’s goodies hanging off Jake’s arm. All the local eateries are opening up for the dinner rush, drawing people in with the offer of free beer and soju for every meal purchased. 
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jake says, a fond smile on his lips.
“Yeah,” you agree softly.
Despite everything, it’s still home.
The two of you cross the streets to your houses, sneakers slapping against the pavement. Several neighbours who’ve seen you both grow up call out and wave hello. You’re stopped by Mrs. Lee’s son, Heeseung, who makes you both promise to go out for dinner with him tomorrow. 
Finally, you stand in front of your childhood home. The rusted door and peeling-off paint greets you like a best friend. You shoulder your backpack and ring the doorbell, saying goodbye to Jake as he walks into his own house.
The door swings open—only to reveal Mrs. Sim standing at your doorway. Before you can voice your confusion, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling your name into your hair.
“Welcome home,” she says, moving aside and letting you in. “Your mother is in the kitchen. She’s just started making dinner.”
“Oh, okay.” You grin. “It’s great to see you, Mrs. Sim.”
“I swear you love Y/N more than me.”
You turn around and see Jake standing by the door, an affectionate look in his eyes. You direct your grin at him, too.
“Suck it up, loser.”
Jake’s guffaw rings in your ears even when your sister screams with unabashed joy as soon as she sees you.
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#4. he broke your heart once (he could do it again)
You stare at the red thread wrapped around your finger. It’s dulled a bit now, compared to how it was a few years ago. Some of its shine is lost; it looks more opaque now. You crook your finger experimentally, knowing it's futile but still holding on to some hope that maybe Jake will feel it too.
To live for the hope of it all, as a wise song-writer once penned.
You startle when Jake sets a mug of coffee in front of you. His house is empty—your mother and Mrs. Sim went to buy groceries together and his father is out of the city on a business trip. Your sister is hanging out with her friends but told you to call her if you needed anything.
“Here you go,” Jake says, sitting down on the chair next to you. “Have some and then we can go buy some hangover soup.”
“Thanks,” you mumble, curling your fingers around the mug and savouring its warmth. The liquid inside is not too bitter, but not too sweet either—just how you like it.
“Feeling any better?”
You wince. Going out for dinner with Heeseung meant drinks were also attached. Being back in your hometown after weeks meant you had to check out all your favourite restaurants again and visit the ones that popped up after you left for college. The result: You swallowed down entirely too much soju, Heeseung and Jake had to physically carry you home, your head is killing you right now, and your embarrassment is at its peak.
When you woke up in the early afternoon to texts from your family members detailing their various absences, you reluctantly made your way out of your bedroom and to the Sims’ place. 
Which brings you here, perched on a chair at the Sims’ dining table, fiddling with your red string of fate, while the object of your thoughts sits right next to you.
“Yeah, a little,” you murmur in response to his question.
“Good.” Jake stretches his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of his midriff. You swallow. “Your alcohol tolerance is still the same.”
“Yours isn’t any better,” you counter. “You didn’t drink more than one bottle of soju.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You were counting?”
You huff, ignoring the warmth that spreads to your cheeks. “That’s not the point.”
“I’m just joking,” he says, bringing his hands back down. “I was kinda surprised Heeseung has a girlfriend now.”
You hum, taking another sip of your drink. Your head still pounds, but the caffeine is kicking in and making you more lively. It is strange, though, seeing your childhood friend settle down. Judging by the way he talks about her, he’s completely smitten. She’s my soulmate, he had said, and I don’t even believe in my thread.
The memory makes hurt bubble up inside your throat, so you chug the remaining liquid in the mug.
“It’s nice, though,” Jake continues, something… wistful crossing his face. “I wish I had someone like that.”
You look away, staring down at the ring of coffee left on the wooden table from your mug. “Yeah, I guess… Aren’t you dating Chaerin, though?”
You bite the bullet—what’s the point, anyway? There’s no use in dragging it out. Not when he clearly doesn’t know that his soulmate is sitting right next to him. You can deal with the hurt that comes with rejection later.
Jake stills. You glance at him—he tilts his head confusedly. “Chaerin? No… What makes you think that?”
“Everyone said you guys were dating,” you say with a small, uncertain shrug. 
“I mean…” He blinks. “We hooked up once, but that’s really it.”
It’s your turn to blink now, bemused. “Huh?”
“Yeah, we were drunk and it just sorta happened? I dunno,” he says sheepishly. “We didn’t remember any of it later, so we just agreed to remain friends. Plus, her soulmate is Sunghoon.”
“Wait, what?” Your teeth worry your bottom lip. Your mind is swirling with questions—was it possible that you had misread Jake Sim all this time?
“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s no big deal.”
“...Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed things,” you apologise quietly. Despite all this, his words make a swell of optimism rise in your chest.
He shrugs. “I, uh, wouldn’t blame you. We didn’t talk much after… after everything.”
“Yeah.” Your admission is soft, regret burning a hole in your tongue.
“So, um…” Jake trails off, looking unsure of himself. That’s a first, you realise with a start. He’s usually so calm and collected, even in the worst times. “Do you still feel the same as you did a year ago?”
You suck in a breath. “Why—why would you ask me something like that?”
“I—just curious.”
His eyes land on yours, beseeching and glorious. Even when he’s just woken up, he looks like he’s been dipped in the sun’s golden rays. Your heart hammers inside your chest.
“Wait, can I ask you something else? Why… did you reject me that night?”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re transported back to that fateful evening in July.
You stuttered the words out, and explained that you were in love with him, that you were pretty sure he was your soulmate, regardless of who your string was actually connected to. With every new sentence you tacked on, the emotion on Jake’s face vanished. Towards the end, you felt your face crumble.
He left you alone on the pavement, broken-hearted and lovesick.
Jake clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so harsh on you that day.”
“I don’t care about that, Jake,” you say simply. “I just want to know why.”
“Because I was stupid. I didn’t believe in the soulmate bullshit, but I know you do. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I—” He licks his lips before continuing— “The truth is, Y/N, I really, really like you… But I didn’t want to hold you back from finding your true soulmate—whoever was on the other side of your string—’cause I know they’re gonna be the one for you.”
If you weren’t sitting already, you’re sure Jake’s confession would have swept you off your feet and you would be a bumbling mess on his dining room floor. Seeing the forlorn look on his face, you nearly crumble. How stupid your soulmate is. How kind and caring and selfless. 
“So I rejected you. I thought I wouldn’t be able to make you happy.” He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping. “It’s still the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
You finally find your voice. “Jake…”
He laughs somberly. “You probably think I’m an asshole.”
“I could never think that,” you say firmly. Your hand finds his on the tabletop, and he laces your fingers together, staring at your connected palms with awe.
“I do think you’re a little bit dumb, because I’ve liked you too since, like, forever—”
“Define forever,” he interrupts, not unkindly.
“Well—maybe since the time you surprised me with all the physical copies of that book series I wanted for my fifteenth birthday?”
“Then,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’ve loved you since before forever.”
A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth. You feel a tug on your little finger as Jake moves his hand away from yours and cups your cheek with it instead. “I’ve also wanted to kiss you since before forever.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confirms, drawing closer to you.
You lean forward and capture his lips with yours, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He parts his mouth with a sigh, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His other free hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck; you wind your arms around his neck. The position is a bit cumbersome—the edge of the chair digs into your thigh, and he nearly knocks his elbow on the back of his chair—but his touch is searing hot, the welcome kind, the kind that makes you crave more and more and more.
“You promise you won’t do it again?” you ask later, out of breath and flushed.
“I promise,” he says, and he links his pinkie finger with yours to seal the deal.
The thread tied around it glows golden.
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#5. he doesn’t even believe in soulmates (but he’ll try)
“You can’t see it?”
“I’ve told you a million times already,” Jake says patiently, “but I can’t.”
“How?” You look at him dubiously. “It’s literally a glowing golden thread connecting you and me.”
“I don’t need a thread to connect us,” your boyfriend quips. “I can think of better uses for a rope.”
You make a sound of disgust. “We’re at the library.”
Jake Sim grins at you, all bright and shining and vivid. “So?”
Taehyun lets out a pointed cough, typing on his laptop. “There are other people here,” he says, motioning to Gaeul, Chaerin and Sunghoon. All three of them are very obviously avoiding your gaze. Even the tips of Taehyun’s ears are pink. You stifle a giggle.
“Sorry,” Jake says, not sounding sorry at all. He picks up your hand again, thumb brushing against the knuckle of your little finger, right above the knot where the golden string is tied. He whispers to you, next, “I just don’t believe in it.”
“I know,” you say. “But you’re missing out on a lot.”
Jake hums. “I don’t believe in soulmates. But I believe in you.”
You roll your eyes, ready to chew him out for being a sappy romantic again, when his next words make your heart stutter.
“I think that’s good enough for me.”
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1K notes · View notes
anantaru · 1 year ago
Text
— does he like it when you're being clingy?
including wriothesley, neuvillette, kaveh, scaramouche x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, lots of physical touch, established relationship, kissies, love sick genshin men
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— wriothesley
as much as wriothesley shows off his strong demeanor for the outside world to see, he cannot lie to himself when it comes to you— because the duke likes seeing you be clingy with him and search for his vehemence.
to him, there was nothing better than having your arms all padded up around him while you kiss his little worries away— so for all he cares, let the outside world call him bewitched if they must, or caught in an angelic spell for that matter. to wriothesley it didn't sound bad nor did he really give a damn about what a so called nobody would say about his life, alongside the fact that he found it quite amusing whenever they did talk about him.
the duke was exceptionally gentle with you, but sometimes he just wants to be able to see you love him in a whole differing modus other than you simply uttering out the three delicate words— in fact, wriothesley too, cares about you so much that he's trying to keep you around all the time, having you enveloped in his arms like he always daydreams of whenever you were apart from each other— hoping that you'd visit him so he could listen to whatever story you might tell him about.
now, was this a new feeling? well, yes. simply put, it was one he had never experienced before. the man had always been faithful, protective and nurturing in his life, so when love solidified the senses of his body, wriothesley was able to finally share his love with somebody.
what you did not know was that wriothesley was slightly frightened in the early stages of your relationship, to someone like the duke it wasn't particularly a breezy walk in the park to open up to another individual and realize that for the first time in his life, he was able to trust someone undoubtedly without fearing a possible mistreat.
now, he admits his love to you when he felt ready to do so, and when he does spell out the three words that bonded a relationship anew, your lips curl deeper into a passionate smile as he kisses the sides of your mouth.
your company alone was an important determination factor of his mood, and although he doesn't want to trouble you with his work, nor was he really allowed to share important and confidential details, wriothesley was certain that you would always be there to listen to him no matter what crossed his mind.
interesting how his heart has not once melted in his entire life prior to finding his soulmate. that's why in his eyes, there is no truer language than the language of love.
a cruel world that has been so cold go him surely wouldn't give him such wonderful gift?
alas, it did— wriothesley could feel it in his bones whenever you held him close to your chest late at night, his ear shell quietly pressed right above your heart. the silent vibrations place a pure tepidness of passion on his soul when he finds himself gradually softening to it, on all occasions smiling as he falls asleep in your arms.
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— neuvillette
in the early stages of your relationship, when you had first placed your lips on neuvillette's, the three letter announcement evaporates from his tongue as fluid as when sunlight enters the raindrops and emerges as rainbows from afar.
and yes, much to his surprise he didn't die because of it, who would've saw that coming? although the iudex wholeheartedly believed that he would suffer from a cardiac arrest due to the vast bursts of anxiety gradually chugging away his confidence.
"can i sit on your lap?" you smile gently, unsure whether his silence is that of enthusiasm or distaste.
neuvillette can hardly register it at first before he presses out a pathetic little yes when his excitement reaches the roof of his head and violently breaks through it, showing you those open and loving eyes that were the golden entry to his soul.
you hear a deep, breathless pant when you sit on him, witnessing how a hefty amount of redness catches up to his face until battering his ears, ultimately coaxing out a shiver from his spine.
don't misunderstand his unusual reactions— but neuvillette couldn't quite fathom that you belonged to him and sought out his body like that, it's always special when you nonchalantly rounded your hands on his face and replenished his energy anew, as if his frame was reborn in its most perfect form solely when he felt your trace.
and so, he cannot get enough of your warmth— no wonder when you remind yourself of the pure emotions that he harbored deeply for you.
instinctively, you rest your body against his chest, a soft glow rounding up your facial features, "ah, can't wait until you're done with this," you huff and point at his office desk being crowded by a bunch of papers as you press a small peck against the tip of his nose, ruffling his hair a little.
"it is rather late, you mustn't stay here," he insists, a barely distinctive curve of his lips turning all the difference in the choice of his tone.
"oh? does that mean you want to get rid of me?" how terribly skilled you were when you soaked your words in viscous sarcasm— so skillful in fact that neuvillette would always fall for it head first, or that's what you thought.
he raises a brow before curving one arm around your waist, leaning you against his chest so you wouldn't be able to move an inch, even if you tried.
"now," he playfully scolds, "you, my love, couldn't be farer from the truth."
"and here i thought you must know me by now?"
"i'm joking with you!" you panic, battering his cheek with little kisses as if he didn't know— but neuvillette sees how happy you were whenever you believed you fooled him.
he cocks an eyebrow at you, his mannerism in a questioning stance.
"apologies, aren't jokes supposed to be humorous?"
you scoff, "hmpf, now you're just mean!"
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— kaveh
from an outer perspective, one couldn't possibly figure out who was clingier towards the other person— and even with someone being a close friends of the both of you, it's beyond the bounds of possibility to crown a winner.
you or kaveh? who yearned for the attention of the other more? to answer such difficult question, you should first know of the moniker a certain scribe has given you, in fact, within your friend-group kaveh and you had instantly claimed the title of most insufferable couple.
you might wonder, was that a bad thing? oh well, not at all!
and kaveh doesn't even attempt to conceal the priceless smirk on his face whenever he heard his roommate address the both of you as that— it turned him deeply fulfilled that everyone was able to see how crazy he was about you.
your heart feels full by his comforting arms that each throb rattles across your limbs and muscles, feeling weightless at the welcoming cradle— your love being whole, one touch and a gentle kiss on the lips and you feel on a bed of roses, tucked up in velvet.
"what is it?" kaveh leans at you, raising a brow at the way you peak behind his shoulder. during closer inspection, you catch up on a sneaky little smirk that frames his lips the more you focused on what's behind him, "c'mon baby, tell me," kaveh kisses your cheek.
"i think they're calling us insufferable again." you point behind his shoulder, specifically at a table with three people— one wholly focused on the cards in his hands and remaining unbothered while the others sneakily glanced over to you every now and then, whispering incoherent mumbles into each others ears with their palms covering their lips.
and your words don't achieve anything besides making him all the more amused when he wraps his arms around your waist, it's evident, very much so but kaveh was fond of the situation— perhaps he even prided himself on it, he has the audacity to act surprised though.
he laughs, nudging the tip of his nose against your jaw, "they're probably just talking about a way to beat cyno in tcg."
he continues, "we should leave early," and states firmly, "but i think alhaitham took my keys again."
"how does this always happen?" you note tiresomely before dropping your head onto his shoulder— a little too dramatically so that the scribe picked up on it immediately, revealing a triumphant smirk.
perhaps that is why they say love is such magic, this gift from the universe that was unable to be compared, this sweet addiction that no matter what situation you were in, big or small, if it's the two of you facing it together, it was nothing.
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— scaramouche
even if scaramouche doesn't straight out admit it to you, he likes it whenever you were clingy with him— and after a good while of you two being in a relationship, he will more and more show his genuine love of it until he’s practically playing with the thought of begging for more.
in the beginning it starts by how fast his cheeks flame red and his focus dwindling as you hug him. after that particular encounter scaramouche memorizes what you did and decides that this must be a proper way to greet you as well— maybe even give you a little kiss on the cheek if he's feeling like it.
scratch that, what he lacks was the courage to go that far.
but no matter how often you would greet him this way, the action alone send him spiraling, shyly snuggling closer to you, inch by inch, although not risking it to hold eye contact and instead averting his gaze as he attempts to indulge in it nervously— stiff as concrete with both arms frozen on each side of his body when you wrapped your limbs around him.
he leans into your touch and closes his eyes— how warm, it's as if the sun itself would shine down on him and prickle on his skin, you feel so whole, like a home.
your touch, it's difficult to explain besides the fact that it carries such passion, and before scaramouche could register it— what was once scarred long ago expresses gentleness all of a sudden. 
although not everything from his past could be forgotten, yet your presence made it bearable.
what was also a crucial task to scaramouche was his recent curiosity in understanding the concept of love and how he fell for it— while he ultimately came to the conclusion that the only way to understand love is to feel it, attempt to embody it, or embrace it in its complete form. 
next time, you greet him with a blank look on your face as he applies your method on you first, slightly catching you off guard as he welcomes you home almost wordlessly, taking your hand in his cold one when he pulls you into a hug— it is a silent engage and the way he practically dragged you into him made your forehead smack his shoulder.
thankfully scaramouche doesn't have to speak in order for you to understand what he was trying to signalize here.
what's following next would be considered even sillier than him blatantly copying you, but when the two of you walk alongside each other through the hustling streets of sumeru city, you flinch a little at a strong grab on your hand ambushing you, "hey, nope— hold on, stop walking and give me your hand dammit," scaramouche scoffs as he chases after it, when with a quick motion, he traps it finally and tangles his digits around your own.
"there's no fun if i make it easy," you wink, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his jaw, "i like the faces you make when you're mad, you know? your expressions are so cute."
"don't you realize you're wasting time like that?" scaramouche clicks his tongue before squeezing your hand in his grasp, letting out an audible hmph before turning his head towards the street.
"honestly? that's fine by me," you coo softly, smothering him with the attention he craves as more of your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his palm.
"as long as you still love me, of course."
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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harunovella · 1 year ago
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.
synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!
It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards. 
He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it. 
For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello? 
Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him. 
That was until you made the first move. 
It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything. 
At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams. 
"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"
"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"
Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"
"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own. 
You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree. 
In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind. 
"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?
Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet. 
"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten. 
"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"
"Watch out!" You shrieked.
"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed. 
"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds. 
"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."
"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"
Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."
Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"
Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."
"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him. 
"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."
"Um..."
"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."
"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur. 
"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."
Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."
At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"
"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."
"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously. 
Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."
"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.
Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"
Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"
"Mhm," you nodded. 
"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours. 
"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."
"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows. 
"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"
Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."
Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."
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55szn · 10 months ago
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always and forever - cs55
carlos sainz x fem!reader smau
summary an instagram timeline of carlos and yn’s 8 years long relationship warnings too much fluff fc dua lipa taglist @jaydaaasworld notes i have more requests to get to but i’ve had this idea for a while and let’s just say i needed to write some carlitos fluff🥲
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INSTAGRAM
carlossainz55
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 10.302 others
carlossainz55 Always a good time with this one 😜❤️
tagged yourusername
view all 52 comments
yourusername t quiero Carlitosss (love you)
carlossainz55 te quiero más ynnnn (love you more)
user scrolled all the way down to carlos first post and of couse it’s yn
user he’s always been so in love with her is so cute
user so pretty
april 20, 2016
yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55, yourbsf and 4.291 others
yourusername Feliz cumpleaños a mi persona favorita 💕😘 #birthdayboy (Happy birthday to my favorite person)
tagged carlossainz55
view all 43 comments
carlossainz55 muchas gracias preciosa 💓😘 thank u so much beautiful
yourusername por muchos más cumpleaños juntos 💘 here’s to many more birthdays together
yourbsf feliz cumpleaños!!
user so we are all just stalking their instagrams after their last post, right?
user how can you not
user and they posted each other sooo often it’s so sweet
user i’ve been a fan of carlos for so long and they’ve ALWAYS been there for each other i love yn
september 1, 2017
carlossainz55
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liked by yourusername, fernandoalo_official and 24.289 others carlossainz55 Quick getaway to celebrate two years and counting with my soulmate by my side 🌅❤️
tagged yourusername
view all 98 comments
yourusername oh carlitos 🥺
yourusername you sure know how to make a girl swoon
yourusername i’ll love you forever <3
user STAWWWWPP
user his caption and her comments i might die 😣
user they’ve been together for a lifetime oh my god
august 15, 2018
yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 12.210 others
yourusername my boy and his new boyfriend 🙄
tagged carlossainz55, landonorris
view all 73 comments
landonorris sorry i’m just that charming 💁🏻
yourusername he was mine first 😠
carlossainz55 don’t fight i’ll choose yn anyway
landonorris damn 💔
user bro was so down bad he couldn’t even play along to the joke
user omg i never knew it was yn who posted these iconic carlando pics
user well it makes sense she’s carlando’s no. 1 fan
user supporting her boyfriend’s boyfriend iktr 😌
may 22, 2019
carlossainz55
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 368.291 others
carlossainz55 i would have gone insane without you during this crazy year, feliz año nuevo mi amor😘💘 (happy new year my love)
tagged yourusername
view all 1.308 comments
yourusername gotta admit quarantine sucked a little bit less with you by my side
carlossainz55 just a little? 😏
yourusername okay maybe it didn’t suck at all 🤐
user oh to be carlos a be able to lay on yn all day long
user she looks so cute in the third pic 🥺
user from when they were FINALLY (yn’s words) able to see each other after spending two weeks apart 😭
user most in love mfs i’ve ever seen
december 31, 2020
yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 15.291 others
yourusername already knew he looked good in red but thanks for the confirmation @ scuderiaferrari 😝
tagged carlossainz55
view all 119 comments
carlossainz55 you’re making me blush ☺️
scuderiaferrari you’re more than welcome yn! 😌
user this pic is so sjdiaq
user i don’t want to speak of the things i would do if carlos looked at me like that with those big ass eyes 🫠
user yn is such a lucky girl
user SHE is lucky??!?!? have you seen her??? carlos should be thanking every god above
user i’m pretty sure he does that everyday 😭
march 12, 2021
carlossainz55
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liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 456.412 others
carlossainz55 guess i’m a tatted man now, i just can’t say no to that face 😶
tagged yourusername
view all 1.302 comments
yourusername you have to admit it’s pretty cute
carlossainz55 whatever you say🫡
user oh my god carlos get up!!
landonorris i don’t think that’s enough ink to call yourself a tatted man mate
yourusername maybe i should make another appointment 🤔
carlossainz55 don’t give her ideas you muppet 🤦🏻
user i didn’t know they had matching tattoos that’s so cute 😭
user sleeping on the highway tonite
october 17, 2022
yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and 732.819 others
yourusername how could i say no when my date looked like that? 🤭
tagged carlossainz55
view all 3.995 comments
carlossainz55 can’t wait to spend forever with you mi amor ❤️
maxverstappen1 congratulations you two! 😘😘
carmenmmundt so so thrilled for you both! love you 🫶🏻
yourusername i love you my girl, get ready to try on a loooot of dresses 😅
user EVERYONE remembers where they were when this post dropped
user i remember dropping my phone on my face when i opened instagram
user i cried happy tears, had been waiting for that day for years 🥹
august 15, 2023
carlossainz55
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liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 3.281.819 others
carlossainz55 can’t believe i finally get to call you my wife. just you and me, always and forever, te amo yn ❤️
tagged yourusername
view all 10.371 comments
yourusername te amo y te amaré por siempre, mi carlitos (i love you and i’ll you forever, my carlitos)
user “mi carlitos” oh god i’m sobbing
landonorris congratulations, you two were made for each other ! 🥰
yourusername your boyfriend is now my husband 😜
landonorris don’t even remind me about it.
charles_leclerc so happy for you two ❤️❤️
user can’t believe i’ve been following carlos since the beggining of their relationship and now they’re married
user omg don’t even talk to me abt it i feel like a proud mother
september 28, 2024
the end
1K notes · View notes
Text
Dating Bucky Barnes Headcanons
Dating Bucky is easy and difficult at the same time.
Bucky isn't the one who makes it difficult. In fact, he takes utmost care of you and tries his best to make sure that you're always comfortable and happy.
What troubles you and him is his past.
For a long time in the beginning, he refused to sleep beside you. Plagued by nightmares every night, he did not want to scare you, or worse, do something to you in the influence of the terrors.
It hurt you when he outright refused, but soon you knew the real reason.
It had taken a lot of persuasion, convincing, bargaining, and even threatening for you to sleep in the same room as him. You knew that sleeping with someone who had night terrors was difficult, but you did not complain and accepted them like you accepted Bucky.
Soon, Bucky allowed you to sleep beside him. And in a few days, he grew so attached to you that he couldn't fall asleep without holding you in his arms.
Bucky loves spending time with you. He doesn't have a lot of money to spare, but whatever he has, he tries his best to spoil you and get you what you want.
His love language is physical touch. Whenever the two of you are in the same room, he'll always be touching you in some way. It's not always sexual. He just wants to be reassured that you're there for him and that you're his.
An arm around you, his hand in yours, or a tender stroking of your ankles, his hands curling through your hair, small things like these matter a lot to him. He loves it when you reciprocate the gestures.
Sometimes, he fears that you might be afraid of him. For what he did, for he was the Winter Soldier. And to be honest, at the beginning of your relationship, you were afraid of him.
But soon, you realise that James Buchanan Barnes is not the Winter Soldier anymore, he's just Bucky. And Bucky's the kindest, sweetest and the most loving man for you.
He's old fashioned, but not shy like Steve. He's the best of both worlds, being a man who opens car doors for you and pulls out chairs for you, and also the one who can start a fight to defend you.
He's ashamed of his vibranium arm, and keeps it covered up most of the time, thinking that it is ruining your image and making you two look weird. But you feel nothing like that.
So once, you kissed his vibranium arm all the way from his palm to shoulder, leaving him blushing and with a reassurance that you love the way he is.
You love it when he reads to you. His voice is soft and smooth, having a sexy rumble you love.
But to be honest, he loves it more when you read to him. Your voice is like a melody to his ears, and he'll always listen to it despite whatever you're saying.
He loves giving you piggyback rides. In fact, whenever you don't wanna walk or cannot walk, he'll lift you up on his back, no questions asked.
Bucky is not very vocal when it comes to feelings. He believes in showing instead of telling. Like I said, old fashioned.
It's not just Bucky defending you, you're ready to jump in to defend him shall the need ever arise.
Bucky tells you a lot of stories of himself and Steve from back in the day. You love hearing them, mostly because you want to know more about your boyfriend, but also because Bucky looks relaxed, happier and calmer whenever he talks about the good old days.
You're his soulmate, and he's yours. Both of you just want a quiet life, away from the conflict and relaxing in each others' arms.
He's the scary Winter Soldier to the world, but to you, he's just your Bucky.
Masterlist
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witchthewriter · 1 month ago
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒆
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
a/n: this includes ... all types not just one. So it's a bit of a 'preference.' (That's what we called it in the olden days ...)
I would love some feedback; if you want me to continue, or if you want me to add a specific monster or you have a certain scenario in mind!
Also this is 18+, not explicitely explicit but ... we acting like grown ups.
art credit: atnomen_comic
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘: You had no idea this could happen. Especially since your world didn't seem all that magical. But somehow there was another world, just beyond your fingertips. And finally you're able to see past the veil and into the true world.
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𝑽𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅
・He’s spent centuries alone, convinced that true love is not an immortal experience. Itt's only a mortal invention...
・So he decided if love was no longer available for him, then he would ... have as much sex as possible. Have as many lovers as he possibly could, even have a few fleeting companions.
・But none have ever made his dead heart stir—until he met you.
・The moment he saw you, something shifted. A sensation he hadn't felt ...since he was human. His cold, lifeless existence suddenly felt warm.
・It wasn't just attraction...no. It was recognition. His soul, long thought to be lost to eternity, had awakened at the sight of you.
・His eyes lock onto yours, and for the first time in centuries, he felt hunger—not for blood, but for you.
・He truly knew you two were soulmates when his bite mark did not fully fade.
・The first time he drank from you, you felt a cool, then electric tingle where his fangs met your skin.
・As he started to drink, with his lips pressed against your neck, his hands tightened on your body and you relaxed. It felt right. He felt so right.
・And then it felt as if his very essence started to weave itself into you and yours into him.
・In the vampire culture, soulmates are a rare phenomenon, whispered about in ancient myths. Now that he has you, he will never let you go.
・He has become your shadow, watching over you, making sure no harm comes to you. Even if it means following you. He's only ensuring your safety.
𝑾𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅
・The moment he catches your scent, it was over. Even his wolf knew before his mind could catch up.
・Everything changed. His heartbeat started to race, his instincts screamed “mine”, and his world sharpened into a singular focus: you.
・Your scent soon became home, like the warmth of a crackling fire after a long winter hunt. Even in a crowd, he can track your heartbeat.
・If anyone dares to look at you the wrong way, he bares his teeth, his voice dropping into a possessive growl.
・Werewolves are very touch-oriented, and he is absolutely no exception. Expect to be pulled into his lap, carried effortlessly, and nuzzled constantly.
・His favorite thing? Falling asleep curled around you, his warmth keeping you safe and cocooned in his embrace.
・Although he does love being the little spoon...
・The moment you both knew you were meant for each other was when he first touched you. Skin to skin—you felt a sharp, burning sensation on your wrist.
・It wasn't painful, but it was intense. It felt like your souls had locked into place. Whatever felt missing, was now whole.
・The mark is invisible, but you can feel it pulse whenever he’s near, whenever he’s thinking about you, whenever he’s longing for you.
𝑶𝒓𝒄 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅
・Orcs don’t believe in fate. They believe in strength, will, and battle. Romance isn't a big part of the orc culture.
・So in his mind...this wasn't meant to happen. Not to him.
・He tried to ignore the feeling at first. The swirling, giddy feeling whenever he saw you, or, whenever you're near.
・Soulmates are myths, things whispered in old war songs, but the way his chest tightens whenever you’re near proves otherwise.
・He watches you closely, testing your spirit, your fire, your heart—because if you are truly his mate, he needs to be worthy of you.
・His instincts scream to claim you, but he won’t rush—not until he’s proven to both you and himself that he is strong enough to deserve you.
・It is a little annoying. Confusing even. Because the way he acts around you ... you thought he loved you.
・And then he would stop himself.
・Put up a wall.
・But you understood him once he gave you a certain something.
・Orcs don’t write love letters—they craft. And he had been making things for you constantly:
A knife with a handle carved to fit your grip perfectly.
A wooden pendant engraved with symbols of protection and love.
Your own bow and arrow...the bow had intricate carvings
The pelt of a wolf, to keep you warm. Yes, he had made it himself.
・These gifts are a piece of him. Every time he gifts you something, and you wear/use them, he literally swells with pride.
・You both knew you were soulmates, because your hands burned when you were near each other.
・No, not painful. But the same symbol is left on the top of your hand.
𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏-𝑯𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅
・Dragons do not love easily. They are proud, powerful, and above such mortal concerns.
・Until you both received the soulmate mark.
・It happened like this: you had no idea there was an extremely tall being waiting for you to move in the bookstore.
・And then suddenly, you felt a strong yearning for a particular book, and when you went to pick it up, a large hand bumped against your own.
・Instantly, you started to glow. As if you had been dusted with the essence of pure gold.
・His eyes flashed to you, because the same thing was happening to him.
・An ancient feeling bubbling up from the pit of his stomach and he looked at you. Stunned. And you knew he was because his eyes gave it away.
・In that instant he was feeling a force beyond time and reason. His heart—once untamed and indifferent—now started to beat ... for you.
・Dragons are territorial creatures, and now you are his most treasured possession
・He hates being away from you. He knows your schedule, and whenever you wander too far, his wings twitch restlessly, and his claws flex as if he’s about to hunt you down and bring you back.
・If anyone even thinks of touching you, his eyes flash with molten gold, his pupils thinning into slits.
・His hoard grows with things that remind him of you—a necklace you once wore, a book you left open, even things that carry your scent.
・The first time he allowed you to ride on his back in dragon form was a big moment for him. He preened for days, smug and proud that you trust him so deeply.
𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅
・Demons don’t believe in soulmates. They believe in power, in lust, in domination—not in something as fragile as “destiny.”
・And yet, the moment he lays eyes on you, he feels it—a pull so deep it rattles his very essence.
・His chest tightens with something unfamiliar—not hunger, not desire, but a need beyond reason.
・His claws flex involuntarily. His tail flicks behind him. His smirk falters, just for a second. And then, with a low, sultry chuckle, he leans in and whispers, “Oh… you’re mine.”
・Then a mark, only visible to you and he alone, would glow faintly. A symbol, neither of you know what the symbol exactly is - but it has to mean one thing...
It might appear as black runic symbols, glimmering and glinting on your skin.
However, it may appear as a delicate sigil, an ancient demonic brand woven from flame and magic.
・If you are ever in danger, the mark scorches hot, summoning him instantly—no matter where he is.
・The mark is not always visible to mortal eyes, but it glows faintly when touched by him or in moments of intense emotion.
・He would burn the world down to keep you safe.
・If anyone dares to touch you, flirt with you, or even breathe in your direction too long, his eyes darken, his tail curls possessively around your leg, and his fangs flash in a dangerous grin.
“Oh, I do hope they keep looking...Gives me an excuse to tear them apart.”
・He might act nonchalant, but he watches you like a predator watches its most prized possession.
𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅
・Angels had a very specific job. From a very specific god... They weren't allowed the same freedoms that the other factions & deities had.
・Therefore, angels do not fall in love lightly. They were created to serve, to protect, to remain above mortal emotions.
・They looked out for humans; as gurdian angels.
・Your guardian angel however, didn't have a problem with getting close to you.
・In fact, he was able to physically be around you, touch you even - which was highly odd because only other beings with magic blood could do that.
・When the soulmate mark appeared, it solidified his feelings and changed your world forever.
・A gentle warmth envelopes you, and an instant calm washes over you.
・The mark is no mark at all, but drops of sunlight mixed with moonlight. They swirl on both your hands, fingers, wrists and arms. Like a moving masterpiece of true love captured through a pearlescent light.
・His very essence had trembled, as if the divine itself had rewritten fate just for the two of you.
・His wings shuddered, breath caught and for the first time in his eternal existence he felt longing.
・Usually angels did not receive soulmates.
・But for some reason he did.
・His loyalty knows no bounds. He would never stand against you. Never leave you. Never hurt you in any way possible.
・And though his essence is peace. He would die for you. He would challenge anyone or anything for you.
・There is no other path for him, but you.
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