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#but if they could manage to not discuss any serious topics yeah they would absolutely hang out
wolvesrain · 1 year
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sometimes kaz's peace walker dialogue and line delivery (english VA) just reminds me of sylvain fire emblem especially the kaz date mission vs sylvain's teatime
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doumadono · 7 months
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For sinful Sunday <3
I think Hawks would absolutely love playing with toys, or more specifically to playing with you. Using those remote controlled toys to whether just for fun behind closed doors but also for making both of your outings more... interesting. The way he'd stay cool and collected from the outside acting like nothing was happening, interacting with others with ease like he hadn't been playing with you for hours. Watching as you struggled to look norma,l craving that sweet release as much you waiting the embarrassing situation to end even though you couldn't lie how much it turned you on...
....Yeah that's that... now I'll run to hide with my thoughts heh🏃‍♀️ hope you have a good day!♡
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A/N: Your thoughts are undeniably intriguing, dear Anonnie!
SINFUL SUNDAY
Hawks was a master of composure, a skill honed over years as a pro hero. But what truly set him apart was his secret talent - he loved playing with toys, particularly when it came to you.
You discovered just how far he could take it when he introduced the idea of using remote-controlled toys to make your outings more exciting.
One sunny afternoon, you found yourselves at a high-class charity event, surrounded by well-dressed guests and sparkling chandeliers. As you engaged in polite conversation with the attendees, Hawks stood beside you, impeccably composed. Little did they know, he was discreetly controlling a tiny device nestled inside your cunny. His voice was smooth and unwavering as he said, "You're doing great, darling. Enjoying yourself?"
You struggled to keep your facade as you felt the vibrator throbbing on higher level, whispering through gritted teeth, "You're such a tease, Hawks. I'll kill ya ne day, I swear to God."
He simply grinned, his golden eyes sparkling with mischief. "I aim to please."
Throughout the event, Hawks toyed with the remote control, sending shivers of pleasure through your body when you least expected it. You bit your lip to suppress your reactions, desperately trying to appear normal.
When you thought you couldn't take it any longer, Hawks leaned in and murmured, "Just a little longer, sweetheart. We don't want to arouse suspicion."
Amid the elegant ambiance of the event, you and Hawks found yourselves seated at a long, mahogany table, strategically placed next to the CEO of the charity. It was a prestigious spot, and you knew that the success of this interaction was crucial.
Hawks, ever the daring one, had other plans in mind. As the CEO, an older, distinguished gentleman, began to speak about the charity's mission, Keigo slid the remote control beneath the tablecloth, careful not to attract any attention.
The moment the CEO's conversation reached a particularly serious note, Hawks took advantage of the opportunity. His fingers deftly manipulated the controls, causing the discreetly placed device inside you to hum to life at full power. Your breath hitched, but you managed to maintain an outward appearance of attentiveness, glueing a pleasant grin to your lips.
The CEO continued speaking, oblivious to the escalating tension on the other side of the table. Hawks leaned in slightly, his voice a hushed seduction as he whispered, "Let's make this dinner a little more interesting, shall we?"
You bit your lower lip, struggling to stifle a moan as Hawks skillfully increased the intensity even more. The charity CEO continued to discuss their projects, while you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, squeezing your thighs together, feeling some of your slick juices soaking through your thong. Your body, however, betrayed your facade by reacting to Hawks' mischievous control.
The more composed and distinguished Hawks appeared on the surface, the more you wanted to squirm and let go. It was a thrilling battle of self-control, and you couldn't help but be turned on by the audacity of it all.
As the dinner conversation moved on to lighter topics, you couldn't help but shoot Hawks a pleading look, silently begging him for release. He grinned, his eyes dancing with wicked delight, and gave you just a taste of what you craved, leaving you yearning for more.
At that moment, the dessert course arrived, providing a much-needed distraction. You savored the sweet treat in your mouth, trying to regain your composure. Hawks had temporarily relented, allowing you a reprieve, but the gleam in his eyes promised further excitement.
As the dessert plates were cleared away, the CEO turned his attention to you and Hawks, engaging in a more personal conversation. It was the perfect opportunity for Hawks to resume his teasing. His fingers played with the remote control, and you felt a subtle, delicious vibration between your thighs. It was a struggle not to gasp audibly, but you managed to maintain a facade of polite interest in the CEO's anecdotes.
Hawks leaned closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he murmured, "You're doing so well, babe. Just a little longer, and we can continue this game elsewhere."
The promise in his voice sent shivers down your spine, and you fought to maintain your poker face. It was a dance of restraint and desire, with Hawks orchestrating the melody of pleasure as if he were a maestro.
The CEO extended a polite smile and said, "I couldn't help but notice that your cheeks are flushy, miss Y/N. Are you feeling alright, my dear?"
You composed yourself as best as you could, trying to hide any lingering effects of the erotic torment you had been experienced throughout dinner. "I apologize, I think it's a little too warm in here, sir."
The CEO's gaze turned sympathetic, and he nodded understandingly. "It can be quite overwhelming, these grand events. But I'm glad to see you back on your feet."
You thanked him for his concern, casting a mean glance to your dearest boyfriend.
As the evening drew to a close, you excused yourself. With Hawks in tow, you hurried out of the dining room, leaving the CEO and the event behind.
Once you were alone, the tension that had been building all evening finally found its release in a passionate embrace. Hawks, his confidence undiminished, continued to use the remote-controlled device to bring you to the peak of pleasure and beyond, all while whispering sweet promises of more adventures to come.
You locked eyes with him, a potent blend of frustration and desire reflecting in your gaze. "Damn you, Takami," you gasped, "I can't hold back any longer!" With those words, the tight knot in your abdomen finally broke, and your climax surged through you, coating your thighs in a heated rush of slick juices.
Keigo leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. "I swear, I'll more than make it up to you once we're back home, Y/N," he whispered between breathless kisses, promising a night of unbridled passion to come.
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phoeebsbuffay · 2 years
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Imagine you were a slave in Tatooine, where you’d been acquainted with Anakin Skywalker. In fact, you were very close to him. However, you didn’t have the Force and somehow the Jedis couldn’t take you with them so you had to endure your condition for a long while whereas Anakin was destiny to another path. Nonetheless, years later you meet in different positions.
Warnings: unburnt Vader, alternative universe, drama, smut, fluff.
Warnings 2: “We Found Love”, by Rihanna; “Laughter Lines” by Bastille. “Everybody Wants To Rule the World”, by Lorde.
Warnings 3: no Padmé in this world.
Minors, don’t read.
***
•Intro•
Anakin’s POV.
He hated sand. All the more the dust that came with the flying ships he was forced to face in the markets. In fact, there was absolutely nothing he’d not hate in Tatooine.
“My son, grumpiness will not easy things for you.” His mother often told him. Her gentleness and warm heart were the only reward of that misery Anakin called life.
He tried not to complain so much, accostumed to spend time alone. Or building droids, fixing ships, studying mechanics with other fellow slaves. It was when he came to meet you.
You were selling a piece at the market that Anakin required to complete the droid he named as C3-P0. He came after you, finding strange why a girl with two brown-ish braids and a chubby face should be selling a valuable object such as the one you were holding.
“Hey”, he said. “Are you the one responsible for selling this?”
Anakin could tell you were as unhappy as he was; the way you were staring into the nothing not only showed you were bored, but exposed your state of melancholy—again, both states he’d been familiar with. Anakin felt compassionate to you.
You looked up at this boy with sandy hair and blue eyes, serious and cocky in manners. For some reason, though, it was enough to inspire you kindness. Often used to be ignored by most people who came to the tent your masters were selling things, you were surprised that boy noticed you.
“Are you talking to me?” You had to be sure.
Anakin rolled his eyes.
“Yes, who else would I speak to?”
“No one speaks to me”, you shrugged your shoulders. “It’s a rare occasion. Hence why I asked.”
“That seems harsh”, Anakin pitied you.
“That’s okay. I’m used to it.” You offered him a smile. “So do you want to buy this piece, eh?”
“Yeah. How did you find it?”
“I didn’t. My masters did…” And you ended up telling him all about this finding, a topic that impressed Anakin very much.
“Your memory is very good.” He said, amazed. “How should I name you?”
“Y/N”, you introduced yourself. You smiled because it seemed that you were making a new friend.
This perspective was thrilling for Anakin too. He was often surrounded by adults, ignored by them as well.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Anakin Skywalker.”
Though he did buy the piece that was missing, Anakin managed to convince his master to acquire you. You were eventually sold so not only you were useful for his master but also Anakin had you closer to him.
In these days where neither had tasks waiting to be done, Anakin would drag you to the roof. There, the two of you would lie down and watch the stars together.
“What do you think that lies beyond, Y/N?” Anakin asked you. Your quick wit was a trait he mostly appreciated in you.
“I have read books telling the stories of planets.” You confided him. “There are plenty out there. Some are peaceful, others not so much. Different lives, where slavery is not a part of their cultures.”
Anakin watched you mesmerized.
“How’d you know that?”
“Because I’ve heard my former master discussing with his buyers that the Senate is voting to stop slavery throughout galaxy.” You then hesitate. “Can I tell you a secret, Ani?”
For some reason he liked how you called him. Unconsciously he took your hand and you held it tight.
“Yes, Y/N. Of course.”
“I have a dream. I want to be free.” You whispered. “I want to see these planets. I want to meet the universe. Silly me, right?”
He paused. A dream he could identify himself too.
“No.” Anakin said slowly. Sadness began to crawl upon your hearts. “It’s something I’d like to live too, Y/N. I hate Tatooine.”
“I hate sand.”
You both laughed. That night, you were each other’s only best friends.
*
Anakin would never forget how paled you looked when Master Qin-Gon Jinn and his Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi lamented profoundly for being unable to take you with them.
“Taking you is a risk. Unfortunately, it is not possible to bring Y/N with us.” Master Qin-Gon said.
Anakin was not pleased. He knew you would cry. He stepped forward and said:
“I promise Y/N. I promise I’ll come back to you.”
But he never really did. Until the day your name comes back to his mind only to poison his heart.
***
Nowadays.
Your POV.
Your braided brown-ish hair with shades in silver and dark blue falls over your shoulder. In your lips, a red lipstick paints them full. But other than that, no sign of make up. Small earrings decorate your ears. Vanity only rose when you came to the point where you could purchase it.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you like your reflection. A white blouse is slightly covered by the black jacket you wear, which matches the black leather pants you dress. To complete, a pair of black’n’white boots reinforce your style.
The room you are finishing to dress is not yours. You’ve only recently rented it from a tavern lady in the underworld of Corascunt. Ever since you left Tatooine, all you’ve done was getting yourself somewhat richer… and free.
Your adolescence was not easier. It was difficult as Tatooine was plagued with the clone wars. Part of you resented Anakin for never filling his promise. You’ve never came to meet him—before he came to rescue his mother, you’d already been sent to another man and managed to escape his possession.
Was it wrong of me to blame the Jedis for taking my best friend away? Was I this insecure to the point of believe he was part of me?
You never understood very well these sentiments. But from the moment you stopped accepting the condition of slave and purchased—whether legally or not—your liberty, you were out of control.
It came with good and bad parts. Right before the rise of Empire, for example, you were found at the Clone bar. You got yourself a one night stand with, what was his name again, oh yes, Fives. Whatever happened to him, you’d not know. Neither did you care.
As usual, you learned to live by yourself. You earned enough credits for your reputation to grow in the empire. Enough to begin to attract a perhaps not so desirable attention.
You could not care less about Jedis and Siths. Fuck them. As long as you remain free and untouched, all is well. You stay out of trouble and they seem to willingly ignore you.
But this day is going to be different and you cannot figure out why. As you put a blaster in your right thigh, you sense this day is not going to be like the other ones.
Weird.
It is as if there’s a pair of eyes following you even though you make sure twice, thrice that you are not being followed.
Whatever.
It’s when the Empire soldier identifies you. Two of them comes after you as you leave the tavern. You have no time to curse. You steal somebody’s ship and prepare to pilot away. You’d not be caught. Your heart races as a chasing begins.
What is the reason for the Empire to chase after you? You don’t understand. You’re not even a fucking rebel. And as far as you know, what crime did you commit that the Empire has not done following the appearances of the law? Oh the hypocrisy.
You fly fast, but not, as you angrily remember, as Anakin would have done. You do recall that he had his tricks. What were those again? Think fast, think fast.
Though you strange the fact you have not been under attack yet, you remain suspicious. For now, when remembering the old tricks Anakin taught you, you manage to overpass the enemies. But not long enough.
Before you know a dark bigger ship captures you.
***
Vader’s POV.
He watches as your ship is captured. A small smirk twitches in the corner of his lips when detecting the old tricks he’d taught you when both of you were infants.
Despite the darkness that involves him, reinforced by his presence in dark cape, whose hood eclipses his frame from public eyes, thus inspiring an aura of fear, Lord Vader is relieved to find you. Well and alive.
It’s been two or three weeks since the thought of you came back unwelcomingly so. For some reason, he’d been haunted ever since he’s last been in Tatooine for never being able to reach out for you. So many events happened ever since, but you never left his thought.
He is anxious to see you. However masked these feelings are, he cannot run from them. He wishes to know you. Your reputation reached his ears and Vader isn’t sure how he feels about it. But he needs to know if you are…well.
The door is abruptly open and without even turning, Vader hears you trying to fight your captors. He feels your anger, your trauma—the very same that used to plague him, perhaps contributing to his association to Palpatine. He never appreciated being chained. Neither did you.
“Let her go.” Lord Vader commands.
The door closes. He turns and waits. He watches you. The helmet you wore had been removed from you; so your braid is messy. There’s sweat in your forehead, your eyes glinting with panic—he could tell by your chest going up and down that you are having a panic attack. You bury your fingers into the palm of your hands.
In spite of the evident fear, you don’t seem overwhelmed by it. Vader sees the woman you’ve become: cheeky, aggressive…but also lonely and sad. A sensual woman so full of herself, but one just as hurt as he is.
“Y/N…” He breaks the silence before you do. “It’s been so long.”
“I-I-I don’t know you.” Your eyes are blurry with tears. Vader knows your pride. But he wonders where that sweet girl has gone. “Who are you? Kill me! I would rather die than give myself to you!”
You are paralyzed though. Vader knows you have a plan, but fear freezes you. It’s when he stops right before you. It’s when his hood drops, exposing his identity.
“Anakin?!” You exclaim, perplexed. “A-Anakin Skywalker? You… You’ve become Darth Vader?”
Vader does not say a word for a moment. He watches as you begin to cry. At first he is led to believe that you weep because of who he was and what has he become. But you surprise Vader by slapping his face.
“How could you?! How could you do this to me?” You throw your resentments at him. “How could you leave me there?”
Vader lifts his hand. There’s little point to say. He means to choke you. Perhaps putting an end to your life, but then… the sadness that defies him reminds him the older days. That very same sadness that made Anakin turn into Vader.
So he lets go of you.
Vader knows he should leave, but he watches you catch your breath and weep nervously. There’s anger in you, he knows it.
“Y/N…”, he softens and you are forced to look at him. “I’ve never meant to forsake you. I shouldn’t have.”
How ironic it is that your darkness brings the light out of him. You see that, and it moves your heart. Carefully, you stand. Vader is anxious again to know how you feel.
In other circumstances, he wouldn’t be as merciful. Or kind. Nor even generous. When looking at you, however, he’s remembered of liberty. Of the desire the two of you once aimed to break through all these chains. He comes to see that he’s never stopped obeying others, taking orders.
Vader comes to see he’s been manipulated all along.
“I don’t know why I should care”, you say when finally finding your voice and interrupting the chaos that is Vader’s mind. Your eyes linger at his golden curls and his yellow eyes. You don’t fear him. “I’m trapped either way, aren’t I? By the maker, what have we done to ourselves?”
He raises his hand but, to your surprise, he gently caress your cheek. His hand is gloved but you suspect his touch his warm. You cannot drift away.
“I’ve never stopped thinking about you.” He says. “I know I was meant to protect you. I promised you I’d take you to stars and beyond. It shouldn’t have gone the way it was.”
“Life happened.” It’s all you come to say. “But are you free, Ani? Are you living the life you’ve always wanted?”
A question dangerously posed. It makes Vader remove his hand and you shiver at the cold that comes with the void he leaves. The two of you stare. Vader knows you see right through him.
“Yes. I am what I was born to be. Soon, you will too.”
And just like that he leaves you there.
***
Your POV.
You feel the cold in your new surroundings. Nothing ever is as it should be. Left alone in a strange environment, you begin to wonder whether you are a prisioner or not.
Typical.
Chains would never leave you, would they?
You turn around to leave then. Your tears are dried and you feel empty inside. Some trooper leads you to a chamber where you are expected to stay. You don’t care how this sounds to your ears. You need a shower.
As you untangle your hair and remove your clothes, your mind is blank. There’s little to think about until you enter the shower and let the hot water burn your skin.
Yet, when you close your eyes, you see the handsome features of Anakin. As much as you try, you cannot associate him to being Vader. Curiously, you don’t find obstacles to accept him the way he presents now.
I suppose this Vader was always there. I remember how often Anakin was angry as a boy. Can’t blame him to see him now.
The weight of the past burns your shoulders. Suddenly it’s not about him anymore or his wounds. But yours.
The scars slavery left physically and psychologically on you. The stories of abuse and wars that turned your skin into ivory, into stone. These yellow eyes you stare, they stare right back at you. And you cry.
You cry because you are scared. Not of death, but loneliness. To be alone in this world plagued by vicious wars is so ravishing. What happened to the dreams you used to have?
You turn off the shower, completely numb. You need something to drown your sorrow, but you are so tired that you drop in bed, wrapped around the towel. You don’t even register his presence in your quarters.
How on earth he was there, quietly and unseen? When he comes to your side, you sense it. But you are so tired, so exhausted.
“I’m here, my queen.” His voice is husky. Somehow your emotional breaking down sensibilizes a man who for the past few years cared very little to other people’s pain. “I’m not going to leave you ever again. I promise you.”
He slips right to your side of bed. You smell his perfume, but you don’t move. Your eyes are closed and you feel him snaking his arms around you, pulling you close. It feels good, it feels like home. He provides you the solace to your open wounds. That is how you fall asleep, sleeping well for the first time in a long time.
When you wake up, though, he is not there. To your disappointment, he’s vanished, faded away. Perhaps you fell under the trick of illusion? You could not say. But you swear to yourself that how he embraced you—in spite of you being still wrapped in the towel, oh Maker!—it felt too warm and nice.
You blush. Nonsense. It’s time to dress and so you do. You brush your long hair before braiding it again. You are hungry and anxious about this new day. What’s going to be?
You barely open the door and some man dressed in grey clothes looks at you in a nonchalant matter.
“Lord Vader awaits you in his privy chambers.”
You nod. How come he affects you so? You take a deep breath, struggling with yourself. It’s a childish memory, you think, as you follow the lead of this soldier. Just that. You have missed him as a child, read his regret and there you are!
But once doors are open, your emotions seem to deny your reason. When you see him alone with no hood but dressed in black robes, you almost smile. What a handsome sight to behold.
A thought he captures because Vader says:
“You look well this morning too, Y/N. Come and sit with me.”
You do so, taking a seat across the table so he reads in the color of your eyes the mix of feelings that have been battling inside you.
“Did you rest well?” Vader inquires, watching you as you eagerly eat the fruits, breads and serving yourself some juice. How long had you not eaten well? He’s baffled.
“I did, yes. Though I believe I’ve been under some enchantment”, you say so naturally as if the two of you were the same friends of Tatooine, where you and him were allowed to be yourselves.
You swear you could see a smile on Vader’s lips but you don’t want to investigate that because, damn, you find out you’ve been starving.
“Why’s that?” He puts an effort in not sounding very amused.
“Because I swear you were there by my side when I dropped in bed.” You raise your eyes only to meet those yellow ones staring into yours. But you don’t discourage him to part the gaze. “Well?”
“I’ll leave that to your thoughts. I hope the food fits your tastes.”
You don’t like the answer, but you don’t think you are in a position to question him. So you permit yourself to be distracted.
“It does, thank you.” You hesitate at how you should address him. “I don’t think I’ve eaten this well in ages.”
You see there’s sadness in his eyes when you say that, a reminder of the days spent in Tatooine. Vader does still feel guilty for leaving you there. For never trying to reach it out for you.
“Hey”, you can read his thoughts. “It’s all right.”
“It shouldn’t be.” Vader clenches his jaw. “You were taken away from me, Y/N! You suffered long years… Speaking of which, how did you free yourself?”
Uncomfortable topic, Vader could tell. But you trust him. For you, he’s the same boy you’ve once known.
“I killed my master.” You tell him as you take the coffee to your mouth. Black coffee. So good. “He’s bought me for my intelligence…”
“A trait so remarkable on you”, he tells you, pleased to make you blush.
“…well, yes. But he was unkind. I was so exhausted of that life style. I… I just exploded.” You have always ran from this moment of survival. To look back at it now feels strange. Distant even.
“I understand you more than you think. The moment’s over. We are free to be ourselves now.”
You don’t answer him, letting the silence hang between the two of you. You don’t need to know his past. He appreciates it.
When he extends his hand out for you, you take it. And both of you smile at each other. You are finally reunited. Free as you should be.
***
Vader’s POV.
His sense of possessiveness towards you increases as the days pass. The more he sees you, the more he wants you. There’s neither good or bad whenever the two of you gather together.
Without your awareness, you teach him what freedom really is. Vader realizes he’s been but a puppet to the Emperor. It angers him to be forced to acknowledge it. All the losses he went through… for what?
Uninvited, he meets Palpatine. An inevitable battle is fought. Accusations of weaknesses are heard. He doesn’t need to use words to overpower his master. He needs little to do so.
A victory to Vader when Sidious eventually falls dead.
“I am free, you son of a bitch. You control me no more.”
Now self proclaimed Emperor, he, however, holds little interest to none in the title. In fact, it’s insignificant when he meets you later that day, seeing that you are training in the blue room with some troopers.
Vader sends all of them away, enjoying how powerful he is. How feared he is to all. But you.
“Anakin”, It’s how you address him when the two of you are alone. “What brings you here?”
“Do I need a reason to see you?”
Vader enjoys the view he has of you. How the heat paints your cheeks a deep shade of pink. It makes him smirk.
“You should build more confidence in yourself.” He walks around you and stops right behind you, resting his hands on your waist. “There’s power in you, if only you knew.”
“I don’t have the Force”, he detects resentment in your voice. “A reason why you left me, in the first place.”
Vader frowns. He turns you at him.
“I won’t leave you, Y/N. Ever again.” His eyes linger at the color of your skin, at the color of your eyes, his hands going up and down your shoulders. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice. He won’t lose you. Not again, not this time.
You soften when realizing that. The fear in his voice betrays the mask he’s been wearing ever since he’d been corrupted by the dark forces.
“Stay with me. It’s all I ask.” You say spontaneously.
There is more to be said, he knows it. As he leans his forehead against yours, your hands holding his, he’s brought back to the days where there were just the two of you. No Jedis, no Siths. Just two children wishing to be free of such a miserable condition imposed on them.
Now you both know liberty, though, there are other chains tying you into something bigger. How to break through that?
Fuck it. He’d leave everything to be with you. Anywhere, everywhere.
“I don’t know what I would do if I was forced to let go of you. I hate the thought of losing you.”
“Then don’t.”
You pursue his lips intently. He gives in, kissing you just as fervently. It matters little to where this is going. Vader dominates you, pressing your body against the wall all the while his kisses burn you.
His hands run over the sides of your body, removing your clothes and tossing them away. You gasp at his bold moves, enjoying however the desire that burns like gasoline in you two. You too make sure to toss away his cape, his robes, your hands all too eager to have a hold onto his skin.
His eyes pursue yours all the while there’s no clothes to stand in between the consummation of your love. His smirk is malicious just as yours is. So little need there is to speak.
He pins you against the wall, lifting your legs as his hands run over your thighs before inserting two fingers right in there. His eyes all the while scan your body, admiring your curves, your hardening nipples, the flames that burn in your eyes.
It does arouse him to read your thoughts, your sentiments. He appreciates to see he is admired by you, your fingers digging into his skin, leaving marks as he overstimulates you in an almost perverted manner.
So indecent. So indecorous is how Vader reclaims you. How he holds a hand around your neck and makes you choke just…a little… bit.
It is enough to make him feel the juices running in his hand. As he removes his fingers, he licks it before kissing you hotly, his hands now running free to your sides before cupping your breasts.
“Fuck, Anakin!” You moan is crushed by his lips. It feels so good to hear the name he cut off years ago. But he feels like his old self when he’s with you.
Vader senses your hands pulling his hair, messing with his curls as he bites your neck, your shoulder, your breast. Your breath hitches, his arousal is unbearable.
Before you are even aware, Vader holds your legs tight against him and he thrusts right into you. His eyes raise to meet yours as he leaves traces of bruises in your skin. He’s marked you. You are his.
“Y/N…” he calls you by your name as he moves inside you.
“I’m yours.” Whatever pride you held yourself onto is no more. He sees love in your eyes. Damn it, Vader feels it too.
“My Queen. My Empress.”
He feels you are about come undone. Vader speeds his moves, buckling his hips against yours. He uses the force to lock your hands above your head, leaving you free to be dominated by him. Which is what you want.
“My Emperor”, you cry out. “King of my heart. Oh Ani!”
The two of you stay like this even after you come undone. Bodies locked into each other. He smirks down at you. You too smirk at him, though rather shyly. He pecks your lips, giving you a soft, slow kiss. You are now allowed to hold him. It’s an endearment gesture, filled with tenderness.
“I love you”, you are the first to say.
“I love you too.” Vader smiles.
***
Your POV.
You refuse maids to tie your hair in a regal manner. You need no one to make this moment yours and yours alone. Locking each to your side of head seems to reinforce your new status.
The gown that now slides in your body is dark as galaxy, dark as the force that has crowned you by the side of the man you love. Eagerly, possessively.
The sleeves are long, but they show your shoulders and a bit of your collarbone. There are details in the gown in blue and white, embroidering the galaxy you ought to rule.
The red lipstick is there in your full lips. There’s little other than the jewelry adorning your skin and the gown you dress that show some difference in you. You throw a vine cape over your shoulders and a hood finally eclipses your features.
The door is open. A long line of troopers awaits you. You lead them as you head to the quarters where Vader waits. To hold power like this is tempting, feels so alluring.
Darth Vader awaits his empress. There he stands until you are led to what you now recognize as the throne room. The view of many planets behind him is amazing. He did take you to see the stars.
“Empress Y/N. Come to me.”
You join him. You hold your head high and move to where he is. A smirk is almost imperceptible to your lips when you see many of the men there present bow before you.
Who could have seen that coming? Ah, if only the Jedi who left you behind could see where you are now…
You take his hand and move to his side. But there’s no evil, nothing dark in you when you look up at him and say:
“My love.”
Neither there is in his when he takes your hand to his lips and there presses a kiss.
“My darling. My empress. Together, we will rule at long last.”
“Indeed. You did bring me to the stars.”
His smile is seen. Only to you, of course.
“I did. I promised you I’d go back to you and here we are. The universe now bows to us.”
Revenge has never been so sweet…
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pandoriasbox · 2 years
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Horse Girl “Movement”
I’m just gonna toss my two cents in on this while it’s still a hot topic instead of taking over other people’s posts with my opinions. I think SSE, the company behind the game, made a horrendous mistake in how they’re managing and marketing this “movement” of theirs. I can understand where they’re coming from and I think I understand their general intentions.
Like I get it, “horse girl” especially in North America (though depends on where you’re from) tends to be used negatively and especially for bullying. It wasn’t a huge deal where I’m from since it’s way more rural here so kinda more normal but I’ve always had the impression it kinda implied you were weird or strange bare minimum and I’ve heard some awful stuff from friends about how it’s viewed elsewhere. So I think it’s fair for SSE to think “oh hey we’re a huge horse game that could influence people to look at this more positively and make people feel better about this.”
Problem is, they used probably the worst ever wording for their hashtag and whoever was responsible for replying to concerns on instagram was really ignorant at best and just downright inconsiderate of actual minority groups that face oppression and go through the process of reclaiming slurs. I agree with folks saying “redefining” is a better word to use, it’s at least not feeling like you’re ripping off far more serious and important movements and pretending yours is on the same level as them. Like absolutely bullying sucks but I don’t think any “horse girl” has been explicitly targeted in a systemic way for just liking horses. I have seen other things like people commenting it’s also something that might be related to neurodivergence and I’d agree, I think talking about that would be a really interesting and good topic to discuss. However, the way I think this is coming off from SSE’s side is more of a loosey goosey “uwu we’re gonna post some positive stuff about horsey girls and anti bullying advice that doesn’t do anything.”
And I absolutely hope I’m wrong, I want to be wrong about that but at the end of the day, there’s so little you can do about bullying or supply advice for bullying. You can attempt to ignore bullies, you can talk to someone of authority like a teacher if you’re in school but if you’re an adult or online? You’re kinda screwed, you just block and report if you gotta and try to move on, don’t interact. Honestly, I think the main thing that helps against bullies is just having a support group of some kind and unfortunately if you’re already the odd one out because of something like being a horse girl, you’re just kinda screwed. A lot of times, people won’t do anything about bullying because they either don’t want to get bullied or don’t want to get hurt themselves, or worse, they just don’t care.
So I don’t have any real hope for this “movement” they’re trying to do. I think it’s just going to be a weak attempt to try and uplift their female playerbase, score some brownie points and hand out some likely ineffective anti-bullying advice. Maybe they’ll tell people to be nicer to horse girls too. Again, I hope I’m wrong but SSE hasn’t had the best track record when it comes to making a stand on anything and this comes off as more of a marketing ploy to rope people into the game or just push harder on their female playerbase that they’re hashtag relatable, hashtag we’re with you, hashatag something something girlboss.
So yeah, I’m pretty salty about it and I usually keep rants off my blog but this has affected more than me, it’s hurt my friends, it’s hurt me, and I’m kinda pissed about how inconsiderate it is to minority groups and on top of that, another nail in the coffin showing how little SSE cares about anyone else in their community who isn’t cis female. Like this isn’t a one off thing, these kinds of lack of consideration moments have been sprinkled throughout my time playing and following SSO.
Like I’ve said multiple times, I’m all for SSE being supportive of girls, women, anyone who identifies as female. I want to see them do more positive female orientated things and I think this was an attempt but an incredibly poorly conceived one at best. What I want to see is more showcases of female creators, equestrians, ect. SSE is in a unique situation where they could very easily shine more light on the game design process for young girls and women. They could talk more about behind the scenes, they could showcase more of their female devs, artists and writers (they already do but what about showing them go through their work process if they’re okay with that?) They could even do events around getting girls into game design. But what do they do? Continue to spout about how hashtag feminist they are by marketing towards girls instead of actually producing content that feels like it’s really uplifting female players. It’s not an easy line to distinguish but I gotta say I feel like 8 times out of 10 they’re on the wrong side of it.
And at the end of all of this, it just wraps straight back around to the problem of SSE doesn’t care about players who aren’t cis female. I’m not saying everyone in the company doesn’t but the face of the company and perhaps the marketing and social media teams feel like they don’t. The external elements of this game and franchise don’t care about us, they don’t care about gender queer, trans, nonbinary, gender non-conforming players. They don’t care about actually showing gender equality in their game, about making it so young girls see that they are on equal footing as boys and no better or less. Or about making an actual difference in showcasing how it’s normal to be outside the gender norm even if you identify with your assigned birth gender. And maybe that’s okay if you’re a little company still just trying to make the next Barbie game and fade into the background. 
But it’s 2022, gonna be 2023 before we know it and gender diversity is a huge topic now. We are moving faster and faster towards widely recognizing genders other than female and male and if SSE wants to actually be inclusive, they’ll start doing that too. It’s reasonable for them to put more effort into anything female over male or other gender queer content but it’s no excuse to either leave it on the sidelines, limit it to pride month or push it to locked areas the player may never see or only see once and then abandon. And most importantly, there are games with make your own characters or player blank slates that are more gender progressive than SSE is attempting to be right now. I love the look of the new models but I am hating how limiting they are gender wise. I want a nonbinary character, I want to have the option to be a gender nonconforming butch coded woman instead of the only one in the game being A VILLAIN. And maybe I can’t have a character that looks like she’s in her late 20′s like me but I don’t understand why I can’t have a gender neutral one or why I can’t play as a male when even most indie games that don’t have premade characters let me.
 SSE needs to grow the hell up and take a long hard look at what’s going on outside their little bubble because even though we’re a minority, a lot of long time queer and male players are getting real sick of this treatment. I don’t enjoy seeing my friends drop like flies off the game that brought us together. I don’t want to drop it myself because continued lack of respect on topics like these. Maybe it feels like an overreaction to people who are part of the target audience but after a while this stuff builds up both in SSO and outside it. I’m just sick of seeing piss poor gender representation and I want to finally say something and try to do something about it.
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the one thing i really, really don't understand about kaylors is that karlie pretty definitively stabbed taylor in the back and did it publicly.
like, we know taylor, she's written songs over weaker betrayals. being in an instagram photo with the man who literally stole taylor's music from her not long after he did it is like
if that's not ending a friendship that is 100% ending any romantic relationship. because how do you trust someone after they pull a dick move like that? like i get that he's her manager but like
she could have said no to the photo.
That's what's so embarrassing about being a gaylor, anon.
We have people in this community who are right about kaylor being real in 2014 but who have fallen into a conspiracy theory black-hole where they have basically wasted six years of their lives on this "joe is a beard theory." It's like, dude, yeah, folklore and evermore are very very sapphic, I agree.
But it's not a fucking happy ending? Like, it's like they hear "long story short" and "invisible string" and they believe that somehow, it all worked out in the end? IDEK, but it's time to go, hoax, the great war, and my tears ricochet explicitly point to their romantic relationship ending and like being OVER OVER. She wrote maroon about the bitch, like, it's over. She put her in the same category as jake/john with the RED era. Like, I think it's time to let it fucking go. Don't even get me started on the absolute insanity of karlie's baby being taylor's or whatever. It's pure insanity.
I think the issue is that with Karlie, Taylor was unhealthy and therefore, very fucking public about her relationships. It didn't start in 1989, but it peaked then. And so, kaylors especially are stuck in 1989 where they wish taylor was as available to them as she once was. They hate how private she is with her relationship with Joe. They often claim that having pap photos of the two together means that their relationship is "fake," but taylor has never said she wanted to HIDE her relationship, she has only ever said she doesn't want to discuss it with the public. That's very different. She sings about Joe all the time in her music, she brings him occasionally with her to events because she's not ashamed or wants them to HIDE. She just doesn't want her relationship to be the topic of conversation in media interviews.
It's so wild, because like, girl we have photos of real couples going on pap walks. Like paid pap walks. Is everyone in hollywood in a beard contract? I don't understand the logic that goes into 2023 kaylor theories because they're so fucking delusional. You really have to focus on like one lyric or one part of a performance or one sentence in an interview to really pretend like any of these theories hold any water. Like "i think he knows i want you" is apparently evidence that joe is a beard but she literally spends the WHOLE song talking about how horny a man is making her??????????
Don't even get me fucking started on grammygate. Like, THEY are the ones who started with the assumption that "joe doesn't deserve to win a grammy for folklore" but there is no EVIDENCE for that, especially not for taylor swift just handing that shit over to anyone. Are you guys serious? I think that's what gets them still, is this insane conspiracy that grammygate is a real, proven theory because obviously joe can't have worked on folklore with taylor. Without grammygate, midnights would have been so poorly received by kaylors.
They hear taylor sing "i find myself running home to your sweet nothings" and think she's talking about her mother. Like, it's gross at this point how delusional they are.
IDK, I'm here because I want Taylor's queerness to be respected by the swiftie fandom and conspiracy kaylors are very off-putting to normal people who see the gay shit but think in order to accept the gay shit, they HAVE to accept grammygate/joe is a beard to validate taylor's bisexuality. Like, the eras tour is so fucking gay of her I cannot believe it.
But when you have people on here who are literally looking at nails and thinking taylor fucking fisted a bitch at her after-grammys party (because in that photo, ALL the nails look short. Did she insert ALL her fingers into a vagina??? or are u completely ignoring the muna photos where the tips are very visible still as well as the fact that camera angles matter), hetlors are going to refuse to accept taylor's queerness because it's wrapped up with delusion.
Like, karma being a rainbow flag???? august into illicit affairs into my tears ricochet? lavender folklore dress? the bisexual lighting of lover era and enchanted???????????
Taylor literally liking a post that says shes a bunch of rainbow emojis and it shows in 2019??????????????
I want normal swifties to understand it's not an all-or-nothing scenario. You CAN see the gayness without thinking she's fucking a married mother still, you know??????
this has been a rant lmfao but yeah, I want swifties to stop invalidating taylor's bisexuality on all sides of the aisle.
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savingthrcw · 9 months
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here's some random Neria in DAI things that I've realized in the 3 (three) replies I wrote:
-she gets the high school nostalgia of someone who actually had a great time there, even though half of the people she meets aren't even people she was that close to
-in fact she bonds more with Leliana now than in the year they spent together fighting to save the world ?? Possibly both due to nostalgia and the fact that Leliana is more 'serious' in DAI but when you meet an old friend who knew you when you were less serious it's easy to slip back in, so there is a weird 'we are such good friends' energy that isn't even true at first but becomes true the more they manage to bring out the 'soft playing around' vibe from each other also, possibly, the fact that Leliana in DAO kept telling her the Maker sent her and Neria is like: i don't wanna tell you that there is no Maker so I'm going to just let you do your thing from a distance
-Cullen makes her feel soft in a weird way, like she remembers this poor guy beginning her to kill mages who may be possessed, because he spent a long time getting tortured (and seeing her too, apparently?) and those were btw mages she "hated", especially Irving-what-do-you-mean-you-are-not-my-dad and now LOOK AT HIM. Keeping it together, hanging out with mages (if not the Inquisitor like the one I write, at the very least Dorian&friends), made a name for himself. The epitome of GOOD FOR HIM.
-would absolutely joke around with Morrigan too, just like with the Leliana there is that 'we were such good friends' in high school that is JUST NOT TRUE
-unless we plan on shipping she's absolutely pining for Alistair and pretending it's all cool
-so impossibly uncomfortable with the Herald of Andraste, this is like 'the Maker sent me 2.0' to her.
-may be seen having cocktails with umbrellas in them which turn out to be nasty wine or something because she didn't have anything better there in Skyhold
-Leliana keeps pairing her with Dorian because he's the most likely to keep her calm and distract, or Varric or anyone who will not have her discussing elves treatment, mages treatment, blood magic, racism, or any topic that would be a PR nightmare when Neria gets too passionate about defending her point of view, and Leliana also tries to keep Sera as far away from her as possible (rightfully) and Solas just in case (not necessary).
-as the Hero of Ferelden who has nothing special to do right now plans to find a way back into the fade later to rescue Hawke, and I say Hawke and not Alistair because I'm going with my generic default state and she'd promise death to the Inquisition if someone hurts the man she lost her magic to save out of pure love but yeah it could be Alistair too if she's not there to sacrifice herself for him again, in which case she's hiring Morrigan to help her
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starshapedkookie · 4 years
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Falling
Tumblr media
↳soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest  level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm. 
REPOSTED/REWRITTEN FROM OLD BLOG
pairing: jungkook x female reader 
word count: 31.4k (sorry guys, another monster lol)
genre: soulmate/destiny au, college au, photographer jungkook, angst, fluff, smut
warnings: smut (protected sex, vanilla, light choking), swearing, angst!!!, fluff (jungkook is head over heels), drinking, mentions of anti-depressants and therapy
recommended songs: falling by harry styles, love again by dua lipa, hold on by chord overstreet, dusk till dawn by zayn & sia, when we were young by lost kings
FALL
The last thing you needed this morning was for your coffee to get knocked out of your hand and crash onto the pavement—but of course, that is exactly what happened.
“Ugh,” you groan loudly, bending down to pick up the plastic cup. You did not have time for this. It wasn’t even your first day of classes yet here you were, making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. You quickly dispose of the plastic in a recyclable can before hurrying off to find your class. You were already going to be late—but you knew you didn’t want to be that kid on the first day coming in hungover and 20 minutes late. So far though, that was going to be exactly you.
You rush into the building of your class before rushing up the stairs to the main auditorium. You glance down at your watch and you roll eyes. 7 minutes late—that’s doable right? You enter the large room and you curse to yourself when it’s quiet and the only words are coming from your professors mouth.
“Class I believe we’ve found our first day straggler,” the professor’s voice erupts in the room through his microphone and you freeze in your spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you and you actually want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. Laughter fills the room and the professor goes back to the syllabus as you find a seat towards the back of the classroom. You sit down by yourself and lean back in the seat. Not only was your head absolutely busting from last night, you also had never felt more embarrassment in your entire life. You pull out your laptop and pull up the uploaded syllabus and try to hide yourself within your t-shirt.
“As humans, we think attraction is spontaneous and comes from here,” your professor pauses and points to his chest where his heart would be, “When in fact, that’s not true. Our brains run complex calculations that decide whom we think is attractive. This is what this course is about. The psychology behind gender, sex, and even the ideals of soulmates are all very much correlated in this course,” your ears drown out his talking once the ’S’ word is mentioned—no, not sex, but soulmate.
Soulmates—self explanatory but usually not discussed out in the open like this. Some people believed in them, others didn’t. Growing up, you had always heard about soulmates and their stories—your parents managing to bring it up at least once a week. It’s said that one will receive a name by 18. At 13, you and your older sister decided that it was all bogus as you had many crushes on boys growing up. You could like someone but that didn’t mean you were soulmates though. Your sister quickly flipped her stance about soulmates when she was 17, you 15, and suddenly a mark showed up on the inside of her finger. Not just any mark—but a name. With the name engraved in her skin like a tattoo and only a few months after that, she had met her match.
You on the other hand remained nameless for the rest of high school. You waited and waited for a name to show up by the age of 18—but it never did. You felt alone and like a glitch. At 19, you decided you weren’t going to sit around and wait for a soulmate. Besides, you were young—since when did you have to find your life partner so soon?
Now at 21, nearing 22, you were still nameless. Did it bother you? You were indifferent. You felt lucky to be able to experience college without being tied down to something serious but now as graduation was coming faster than ever and it seemed like everyone around you was finding their other half—worry did sink into your skin sometimes.
“You,” someone snaps you from your reverie and you think the professor has called you again until you see a two guys sitting two rows back from you, one of them pointing at you.
You point at yourself wondering if he’s got the right girl. As you look around the class, everyone is shuffling around to what seems to be small groups. Had you zoned out that bad? You look back at the two guys and gather your belongings before heading their way.
“Uh, hi?” You say awkwardly as you shuffle towards them.
“Told you she’d come,” one guys nudges the other one with a smirk, “Wanna be in our group?”
“Group?” You look back to the front of the classroom and see a slide displayed “FINAL PROJECT” shining bright. “Yeah, sure whatever,” you sit down beside of the chatty male before he finally introduces himself.
“I’m Namjoon,” he smiles.
“Y/N,” you reply looking at the other guy who has stayed silent this whole interaction.
“This is Jungkook,” Namjoon says and Jungkook looks at you offering a weak smile.
“Hey,” he says simply. Jungkook has pretty eyes, round and doe-like, innocent yet inviting. You catch yourself noticing the ink lining his forearms and knuckles.
You take a seat beside of Namjoon and focus your attention back to the board. Your professor explains each group has a variety of topics to choose from and present to him later at the end of the semester. As much as you weren’t in the mood for much talking, you were thankful this Namjoon and Jungkook guy asked you to be in their group because you’re not sure you would have had the courage to ask anyone else.
Lecture ends with an online syllabus quiz due at the end of the week and you quickly gather your things to leave.
“Um,” you start before you get ready to leave, “here's my number. Just text whenever you want to get started,” you slip the piece of paper to Namjoon. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and something stirs deep within your stomach. Namjoon’s voice breaks your gaze.
“Alright, sounds good. Nice to me you.”
“You guys too.” And then you’re off to your next class, hoping you won’t cause as much attention in that one.
.
“Jesus Christ,” you exhale deeply, lying down on Taehyung’s bed. He eyes you from his desk.
“Rough first day?” He inquires, swirling back and forth in his chair.
“You have no idea Tae,” you groan rolling over to look at him. “I should have known this day would be shit the second I slept through my alarm.”
He gives you a small smile, “At least it’s over now. You got much homework?”
You shake your head, “No thank god.”
“Do you want to grab dinner with Jimin and I then?”
Your stomach growls loudly at the idea of food. You don’t even say anything and you don’t need to. Taehyung gives you a laugh before slipping on his ridiculously ugly fur-lined Gucci mules. You stand up from his bed, straightening out your giant t-shirt and running shorts. Yours and Taehyung’s fashion clashed tremendously, but that’s what made you guys—well you.
You and Taehyung meet Jimin at a Thai place downtown. It’s cheap and delicious and a bowl of pad-thai to sooth your brain after today sounded heavenly. Jimin is standing outside, wearing a put together yet sporty outfit. He smiles when he sees the two of you approaching.
“Hey guys!” Jimin smiles widely, leaning over to give you a tight squeeze. He pulls away and gives Taehyung an even bigger hug, the two of them pecking each other on the lips quickly. You watch the two soulmates in awe. As much as you wanted to believe the soulmate thing was bullshit—these two were living proof that it works. And deep down, it hurts.
The three of you order your food and lean back into your chair across from the two lovers as they converse about their day.
“What about you Y/N? Did you have a good first day?” Jimin asks. He’s got to the be the most considerate person you’ve ever met.
“Are you sure you want to hear her spiel?” Taehyung mutters sarcastically and you poke your tongue out at him.
“It was horrible Jimin,” you pout, “First, I slept through my alarm which I never do, was hungover as sit so I needed some coffee and then I got my iced coffee that was five dollars and then dropped it everywhere—“
“Wait, you were running late and still got coffee?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah?” You say in a duh-like tone. Jimin and Taehyung laugh at your before you continue.
“Then I walked into my first class and the fucking professor had the audacity to call me the first day straggler! How awful is that?!”
“I mean it’s true,” Taehyung grins and you flip him off.
“Not. The. Point,” you offer dramatically, “And then all of a sudden these two guys are calling me over to be in their group for a project and they’re both extremely cute although one talked way too much and one didn’t talk at all—“ “Which one was cuter?” Jimin asks curiously. Taehyung swats at his arm.
“The quiet one,” you admit, “At least to me. And then after that, I went to my last class and that went smoothly. However it started going downhill again when I went and grabbed lunch and I got a salad from East—“ “Oh no,” Jimin groans, “East dining hall? Y/N you know that place is whack.”
“I know that but I was hungry! And then I ate my salad and then while I was driving back to my apartment I literally almost shit myself.”
The three of you begin to laugh at how ridiculous your day actually was.
“I mean what kind of fucking luck is that?!”
“You’ve definitely had better days for sure…” Taehyung says eying you from across the table, “I mean look at that outfit and hair,” he tsks.
“Hey! Fuck you,” you pick up your straw wrapper and throw it at him across from you. He’s laughing just as your food arrives. It looks and even smells better, the three of you immediately digging in.
The three of you continue small chatter amongst yourselves, Jimin and Taehyunf being too cute and in love for their own good. You are in the middle of slurping your noodles when your nearly choke on your food when a new, but familiar face walks into the restaurant. The Jungkook guy from your class. And he’s not alone as a girl who is extremely pretty trails in behind of him.
“What are you looking at?” Taehyung asks and he turns over his shoulder to follow your line of sight. “Who is that cutie?” He then says. Jimin agrees.
“It’s the guy from my class,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t spot you. “The quiet one,” you specify. Jimin smirks before nudging Taehyung.
“You’re right,” Taehyung says looking back at you. For some reason, despite not knowing anything about Jungkook but his name, you dislike the way the random girl is looking at him. It doesn’t settle well in your stomach.
“Guess he has a soulmate,” you say slightly disappointed staring into your food.
Jimin speaks up, “No he doesn’t.”
You and Taehyung furrow your eyebrows at him.
“Are you guys forgetting soulmates is literally what I’m doing my thesis on? I can spot them when I see them,” he says keeping his voice low, “That’s not his soulmate, trust me.”
“…Right,” you hesitate. You glance back towards Jungkook and his date to find that they have been seated elsewhere in the restaurant. You bite your lip, stirring your noodles around, the weird feeling you felt when you first spotted Jungkook still deep rooted in your stomach. You don’t mention Jungkook again the entire night, only sparing glances around the restaurant to get another look at him. You come up short.
.
Your first week back at school is nearly over as Friday approaches faster than ever. Thankfully, unlike your first day shambles, the rest of your week went fairly smooth. You’ve managed to get ahead in most of your classes already and you can’t wait for the afternoon nap you’re gifting yourself later today.
Ever since Monday, you have decided to sit beside Namjoon and Jungkook in your psychology lecture now. They were easy to talk to, albeit Jungkook still quite shy, but being with your final project group was convenient. Speaking of Jungkook—he was no where to be seen today.
“Where’s your friend?” You inquire as you sit beside Namjoon. Normally Jungkook is right beside of him as the two of them always get to class earlier than you.
Namjoon shrugs, “I don’t know, he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning.”
You brush it off as your jackass of a professor begins his lecture. Your first official lecture of the semester is on the basis of the human brain and it’s connection to relationships. You nearly roll your eyes out of your head, how fun. Ten or so minutes go back of you typing up notes trying to keep up with him until rummaging disrupts your thoughts.
You glance to your left and spot Jungkook coming in late, his hair underneath a baseball cap, keeping his eyes down as he makes his way over to you and Namjoon. You inwardly wish the professor would call him out on his tardiness but of course, that doesn’t happen. Maybe your professor is a jackass and a sexist?
“Look who is late today,” You whisper as he sits down beside you. His brown eyes give you a glance before nodding to Namjoon.
“Sorry,” he gives you a soft smile, “Today has not been my day,” he briefly explains.
You raise your eyebrows as him, but decide against questioning him.
“I get it,” you respond.
“Hey! You in back,” your professor is suddenly stopping his lecture and pointing his finger towards you. Oh for fucks sake. “If you’re going to talk in my class, don’t bothering coming as I post the lecture slides online afterwards.”
You feel embarrassment taking over your body as Namjoon to your right is snickering at you and Jungkook on your left is sending you an apologetic stare.
Definitely sexist.
.
The next couple weeks of classes went by in a flash. So far, they were all going well and you liked all your professors—minus Mr. Sexist Jackass for psychology—but other than that, you were having no trouble. You had been able to meet other people and get into study group chats which you knew would help in the next few weeks as your first midterm was quickly approaching.
If there was one thing you were slacking on though, it was your group project for said psychology class. Which is why you texted Namjoon and Jungkook to meet at a coffee place on campus to discuss getting started and what roles you all would take.
“Hey,” Jungkook is the first to arrive and you give him a sweet smile. Within the past two weeks, he had become more open to talking to you and you sensed a blossoming friendship between you and him.
“Hi, how are you?” You ask him as you move your stuff out of the way so he could sit down. He sits across from you, his eyes meeting yours.
“I’m alright,” he says with not much energy taking a gulp from whatever drink he was sipping on. It looked to be an iced americano. “You?”
“Pretty good, although I’m already stressed about exams coming up,” you let your worries slip from you.
Jungkook shakes his head, “I haven’t thought about exams yet,” he says honestly.
You give him a hard stare before saying, “What even is your major? I know Namjoon is pre-med but I don’t think you’ve told me.”
He swallows the rest of his drink, “Sports medicine,” he responds with a straight smile.
“Hm,” you say, “So do you dress up as Sporty Spice for Halloween then?”
He lets out a laugh before nodding, “Yeah, every year.”
You laugh with him and you can’t help but notice how great his smile is. He really is attractive, you can’t deny that.
“Where the fuck is Namjoon?” You groan after your laughter dies out, looking down at your watch.
“Here!” You jump in your seat as Namjoon comes up behind you and you nearly fall out of your seat. Namjoon apologizes quickly about being late before scooting to sit beside you.
“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head, “So, when do you guys want to start working on our project? I would hate for us to procrastinate and have to cram at the end of the semester.”
Namjoon nods, “I was thinking the same. We need to choose a topic first though… got any ideas?” He takes out a pen and notepad to scribble stuff down. You could tell Namjoon was just as studious as you were… Jungkook on the other hand was definitely more of a “go with the flow” type of student—not necessarily a bad thing though.
“Kook, any ideas?” Namjoon asks and Jungkook shrugs before throwing out there—
“Sex,” He says and you snicker at his suggestion. “What? That’s all the professor talks about, might as well give him something he’s interested in…” Jungkook retaliates.
You glance at Namjoon and he rolls his eyes.
“I get what you’re saying Kook but I think we should be more specific than that,” Namjoon deadpans and you nod agreeing with him. “Y/N?”
“Mmmm,” you hum, “Maybe we could do research on how sex differs between different people?”
Namjoon nods slowly, looking over at Jungkook quickly, “What if looked at how sex affects the body when it comes to soulmates?”
You throat goes dry at Namjoon’s suggestion and you have to compose yourself so you won’t give yourself away. You look over at Jungkook who looks just as uncomfortable as you do and it makes you furrow your eyebrows. Maybe Jimin’s sixth sense was right?
“I mean is there even research for that?” You look at him, your question somewhat patronizing.
“Oh yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, “There’s lots of research on how the body responds when people are intimate with people that aren’t their soulmates.”
You glance at Jungkook again whose eyes are dancing around the room and you’re not even sure he’s tuned into the conversation anymore.
“What do you think Jungkook?” You ask him.
“Sure,” he says, “Whatever will get us the grade.”
“Alright then, let’s meet up again next week after we each do some research,” Namjoon smiles before gathering his things up, “I hate to bounce like this but my tutoring shift starts in ten minutes and those freshman are so gullible I can make twice as much money off of them,” he says before waving you two off, leaving you and Jungkook alone.
“Does he really scam freshman?” You ask, somewhat horrified at his statement. Jungkook lets out a laugh, visibly a lot more comfortable now that the previous conversation has passed.
“Only when then they’re dumb enough,” he responds before he begins to gather his things too, “See in you class?”
You nod once, noticing what seems to be a silver Rolex covering his left wrist. Who the hell has a Rolex in college?
“See you in class.”
. “Well, well look who the cat dragged in?” Jimin smiles at you from behind the bar. Yeah—not only was Jimin currently getting his master’s in psychology, he also bartended on the weekends at one of your local bars.
You give him a smile as Taehyung isn’t far behind you, putting his head on your shoulder to look up at the menu.
“Hi babe,” Jimin smiles and Taehyung returns one, wrapping his arms around your front.
“Hi,” he smiles, visibly much more drunk than you were. “I’m pretending she’s you so don’t get jealous okay?” He slurs.
“Hey!” You fight back looking at Taehyung, “Crazy how people change after you ‘fall in love’,” you air quote yourself with sarcasm.
Taehyung laughs in your ear, “You should try it sometime babe,” under normal circumstances, you would have felt very offended at his remark because he knows your situation but with alcohol running through your veins—you let it slide.
“Can I have two green tea shots?” You ask Jimin and he nods quickly.
“Make it four,” Taehyung orders and Jimin laughs before nodding, heading off to make your shots.
Taehyung finally lets go of your middle and you both settle to lean on the bar whilst your drinks are being made.
“How was your week babe?” Taehyung asks, “Better I presume? You look hot so I’m assuming all is well?” He raises an eyebrow at you.
You gives him a smile, glancing down at your outfit. Your mini-wrap skirt and skin tight tank top was as basic as it could get, but it made you look and feel good about yourself.
“Good as it gets Tae,” you say flinging your hair behind your shoulder. On a scale 1 to 10 of drunkeness, you were probably a good 5 but you knew once Jimin was finished with your shots, you would be closer to a 7 or 8.
“I know I’m going to sound fucking crazy right now but it’s kind of just registering what I said to you about falling in love and I did not mean it like that—“ “Taehyung it’s fine,” you shake your head, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“No,” he shakes his head, “It’s not… I’m sorry I’m just really drunk right now,” he groans almost painfully.
“I know,” you smile at him before noticing Jimin has come back with your shots. “And you’re about to be even more drunk so whatever you say, apologize for it now.”
He looks up at the ceiling closing his eyes, “I’m sorry to whoever for the dumb shit I will say the rest of the evening, amen.”
“He’s religious now?” Jimin asks scooting the glasses over to you two.
“Apparently,” you eye him before taking a glass for you and handing one to Taehyung.
“To… senior year!” Taehyung says loudly over the music and you nod, clinking your glasses together.
“To senior year!” You say before downing the shot in its entirety. “Oh my god Jimin,” you groan, “I will never forgive you for getting me on these.”
“What can I say? If you’re gonna drink might as well enjoy it,” is the last thing he says before checking on another customer beside you and Taehyung.
“Oh god,” Taehyung says after downing his shot, looking over your shoulder.
“What?” You ask him, getting ready to down your second one.
“It’s the quiet one, the cute one,” Taehyung’s words confuse you until you begin to piece them together. Quiet… cute… Jungkook.
You take a glance over your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin when you see Jungkook looking right back at you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you do the same. He looks really good—blue jeans a t-shirt with his lovely ink being show. What intrigues you the most though is a 35mm camera hanging around his neck. You don’t recognize any of the people he is with before you turn back around, feeling your cheeks heat up even though no one could see it.
“Jungkook,” you say to Taehyung, “That’s his name.”
As much as you wished Taehyung would stop staring in his direction, you knew he was drunk and fighting him on it wouldn’t get you anywhere.
“Well, I think Jungkook,” Taehyung grabs his second shot, “Is hot as fuck and you should totally make a move,” Taehyung finally looks back at you and downs his liquor without waiting on you. You follow suit, the shot slivering down your throat.
“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t think he’s into me, plus I don’t even know if he has a partner or not.”
“You heard what Jimin said a couple weeks ago,” he retorts.
“How does Jimin know he’s right? I mean it’s not like we as humans have a fucking ‘yeah I have a soulmate’ scent to us like were goddamn dogs or something. I mean as much as I would totally make a move on him, I just don’t think I can do—“
“Uh, Y/N,” Taehyung nudges you from your rant.
“What?” You return harshly. A small smirk rises on his face before he points beside of you. You look to your left and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook coming up behind of you.
“J-Jungkook,” you manage to get out, “Hi.”
He approaches you and Taehyung with a warm smile, “Hey Y/N.” His eyes move to Taehyung and you clear your throat to introduce them.
“Jungkook this is Taehyung, Taehyung… Jungkook,” you smile between the two handsome men.
“Nice you to meet you,” Taehyung smiles widely and Jungkook nods.
“What are you doing out tonight?” You ask Jungkook and he steps closer to you as someone pushes past him.
“Trying to relieve some stress,” he answers with a laugh, “Can I get you a drink?” He scratches the back of his head, glancing over at Taehyung again.
“Oh, are you sure?” You ask him before he nods again. You give him a smile, “Alright, whatever you’re having I’ll have.”
“Jimin!” You yell over the music to get his attention. He stops drying a glass and immediately comes to you, his eyes falling on the companion behind of you.
“Can I get two Michelob's?” Jungkook says and you can feel his chest pressing into your back as the overwhelming amount of people pushing and pulling in the bar.
Jimin nods before quickly going into the cooler, popping the tops from the bottle and sliding them over to you.
“Thanks,” you both say grabbing them.
“Thank you,” you turn around to Jungkook and in this position, you underestimated how close you actually are to him. Chest to chest and his head towers over as he looks down at you with a smile.
“No problem,” he says, “Do you wanna go outside? Get some air and more space?”
It’s like he read your mind. “Yeah, sure.”
You tap Taehyung on the shoulder to get his attention from Jimin.
“I’m going outside, I’ll text you if I can’t find you again.”
He nods slowly, “I’ll be right here babe,” he sends you a wink before turning back around.
Jungkook’s eyes lay on Taehyung’s back a little longer than you would like. What’s he thinking right now? Without any warning, Jungkook grabs your hand gently and starts pulling you away from the crowded bar. You aren’t exactly sober right now and you can only hope that your hand isn’t sweating as much as you think it is. Jungkook leads you out to the deck that’s also crowded and loud, but leaves a lot more room to breathe.
You lean against the railing and Jungkook does the same across from you, just mere inches separating the two of you.
“Are you here with just Taehyung?” He asks you taking a sip of his beer. You follow suit. Thank god he ordered Michelob—a man with taste.
You nod, “Yeah… he wanted to go out more than I did but, here we are,” you try to make a joke at your drunkeness but fail miserably. Jungkook gives you a short lived smile.
“So… are you two like, together?” Jungkook says his words slowly, not wanting to say or imply the wrong thing. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head after he asks his question.
You start to laugh, having to cover your mouth so you don’t cackle loud enough to draw attention. Jungkook looks confused before you say—
“Taehyung’s gay,” you explain after your laughter dies down, “His partner is the bartender Jimin.”
Jungkook’s face falls and his doe eyes bulge out of his head. “Holy shit I didn’t know, I didn’t mean—“
“Jungkook it’s fine,” you wave him off, “You’re not the first person to ever ask if Tae and I are a thing. As much as I wish the universe was that nice to me to give me a man like Taehyung but no,” you smile although deep down it does hurt. You grew up with Taehyung hoping he would be your soulmate and when Jimin’s name appeared on the inside of his pinky, that dream bursted real fast.
“What about you?” You ask him. Now’s your chance. It’s got to be the alcohol that’s making this conversation easy as cake because normally, talk of this nature would not be spoken in public with this many people around.
Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat. He starts to shake his head, “No I just got out of a relationship.”
“Oh,” your face falls. So was he with a girlfriend at dinner a few weeks back?
“Yeah I guess the universe hates me too,” he says nonchalantly and the air suddenly feels thick with tension. So he didn’t have a soulmate? Nor did you? What were the odds?
“I hate to sound weird or creepy but,” you pause, unsure if you wanted to ask but internally you say fuck it. “I saw you a few weeks ago at the Thai place downtown with a girl, so that’s why I asked.”
Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read as he gulps his beer. You’re not sure he’s that drunk but if he is, he’s great at hiding it.
“Yeah… that was her,” he nods, “But like I said the universe is cruel and decide to give her a name after a couple months of dating,” he scoffs and almost seems angry—which I guess he has a right to be.
“Oh shit,” you mumble, “I’m sorry,” you offer.
He shakes his head, “It’s fine, what can I do about it now you know?”
You nod slowly, “Look forward to the future? Who knows what might happen.”
“You’re right,” he smiles tenderly, “To the future?” He raises his bottle.
“To the future,” you smile clinking the glass together.
“So who are you here with?” You ask him.
“Just my roommates, Yugyeom and Mingyu,” he explains while licking his lips and your heart skips a beat again.
“You don’t strike me as the type that gets out much you know,” you push a finger into his chest, narrowing your eyesight. 1 to 10 on the drunk scale? An 8 or 9 at the moment.
“Why’s that?” He amuses.
“Jeon, you barely spoke to me the first two weeks of class. I thought you were fucking mute.”
He suddenly steps closer to you and it forces you to drop your finger.
“I’m shy okay?” He says with a pout. “I’m good now though? Right?” You swear his eyes are like a damn puppy dog looking at you like that. Your throat goes dry before you nod.
“For the most part I guess,” you offer weakly batting your eyelashes at him. You glance down his body quickly and notice the way his light blue jeans hug his tiny waist and thick thighs deliciously. Jesus fucking Christ.
“What this all about?” you point to his camera that’s dangling between his pecs. You needed to get your mind back to PG and fast.
He smiles lightly, “My hobby,” he says simply, “I like to take pictures for memories sake.”
“Memories sake,” you repeat, “So do you take it with you everywhere then?”
“Only if I think something interesting might happen that needs to be captured,” he shrugs. God he was so attractive and the longer you stared at him, the faster you were falling down a hole.
“What have you captured tonight then?”
“Nothing much really,” he glances down your front quickly and he thinks you don’t notice until you smirk at him.
“Take a picture of me,” you tilt your head with a smile, “I’m a treasure that should be captured, don’t ya think?” the alcohol was getting to you bad. When Jungkook laughs at you, you swear you saw two faces and you knew you needed to sober the fuck up.
“Alright, fine,” he says, stepping away from you to adjust his lens for the lighting. You lean onto the railing with you elbow, giving him a smile when you look towards his camera. He snaps the picture twice and the flash momentarily blinds you. He looks back at his view finder and you step to him to see it.
“See, a treasure,” you say.
He nods slowly before looking down at you, “Definitely.”
You feel yourself stepping closer to him, leaning up to get a full view of his face. You bite your lip as he leans down, your noses brushing together before you step back.
“Wait… so you don’t have a soulmate?” You keep your voice low and hesitant.
He shakes his head, “No,” he says, “See.” He shows his wrists and in between his fingers and nothing. You do the same for him, moving your bracelets and watch back. He gives you a small smirk before leaning down to close the gap between the two of you. You inhale his clean scent as you push up on your toes to deepen the kiss. With your hand that isn’t occupied you bring it to the side of his face to caress his skin. His lips are so fucking soft and you whine as he pulls away.
“I would ask you to go home with me but I think you’re too drunk,” he says honestly and you furrow your eyebrows at him with a sad pout.
“Hey I’m fine,” you defend yourself.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m that type of guy,” he says, “I’m pretty far from that.”
His words are sweet and considerate and you’re not sure any guy you have met that would be in this position to not jump straight into your pants. As much as you wouldn’t mind Jungkook to do that—you could see where he was coming from. Besides, you were really drunk and really tired so you probably wouldn’t even get off which would defeat the purpose of getting laid.
“Jungkook I know, I can see that,” you tell him before you bite your lip again, “But I am a great cuddlier if that has any weight?”
A large smile falls on his lips and his nose scrunches up from giggling. “Alright, you’re the big spoon though,” he deadpans.
You roll your eyes, “We’ll see about that.” Jungkook smirks before grabbing your hand for both of you to close out your tabs and head to his place.
.
You wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar, but quite comfortable bed. You blink your eyes slowly to let light in and you stretch your feet our from your fetal position. Once your vision focuses you see that you’re alone underneath a grey duvet and you nearly freak out until you quickly remember your previous evening.
You had got to Jungkook’s place around 12:30 AM and aside from light making out, nothing extreme happened between you two as Jungkook insisted on being sober before going there. He obviously lost the argument about who was going to be the big and little spoon as you both fell asleep comfortably with his arms around your front. Speaking of—where was he?
You push the covers from your body and see you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt, your clothes neatly folded on his dresser. You memory is slightly fuzzy, unsure if you changed your clothes yourself or if Jungkook dressed you. Heat rushes to you face at the thought. Damn, you hoped you hadn’t seemed desperate but when you were drunk—that tended to happen. Although not as much anymore as random hookups slowed down the older you got as most people were linking up with their destined lovers.
Fuck—you think, you had nearly forgotten perhaps the biggest detail of last night. Jungkook didn’t have a soulmate. The thought made you giddy on the inside. Maybe he was just as fucked up as you were.
You’re about to leave Jungkook’s room until he suddenly appears in the doorway.
“Oh, hey I was just coming to see if you were up,” he gives you a soft smile and you have to scramble your eyes away from his heavily built chest and torso. You find that he has tattoos all the way up his knuckles to his shoulder. Fuck.
“I just woke up,” you mumble stepping towards the door.
“I made some breakfast,” he says reaching towards your hand gently, “I have some medicine too if you’re hungover.”
You smile at him as he pulls you to him to walk you down the short hallway to his kitchen. It smelt of bacon, eggs, and toast—just what you needed.
“Thanks,” you say gratefully as you take a seat on one of his barstools. He slides a plate over to you as well as a bottle of Advil. “You already ate?” You ask him as you begin to dive into the food that will surely settle your rumbling stomach.
“Sorry,” he laughs, “I woke up awhile ago and went for a run so I had to eat.”
You swat your hand not caring, “It’s fine—wait, what time is it?” Your eyes bulge.
He looks at his silver watch, “Almost noon,” he says, his eyes not looking at tired as he probably is.
“Noon?!” You say with a mouthful of bread, “What the hell I never this sleep this late…” you say after swallowing.
“You drank a lot last night Y/N,” he laughs at you and you give him your middle finger. He rests on his hands across from you in the kitchen and you can’t help but notice the veins in his arms. Was the universe really being this good to you? After all this time, giving you access to someone who is this fine and who doesn’t have a partner? You almost couldn’t believe it.
“Sorry if I was annoying, or needy, or anything like that,” you say somewhat embarrassed that Jungkook had to deal with you even though neither of you know each other that well.
His eyes soften, “It’s fine. You were funny.”  
You’ve devoured your plate of food and you hop down from the barstool to clean your plate. Since he cooked, the least you could was put away your mess.
“Oh I’m hilarious,” you give him a snide look before you bump him with your hip to scoot him over so you can wash your plate. He obliges whilst watching your every move. Jungkook seeing you in one of his favorite t-shirts is driving him delirious.
“But seriously though,” your voice cuts his inappropriate train of thought, “If I said anything incriminating, don’t tell anyone,” you give him a side look as you dry your plate. Jungkook laughs before a smirk appears on his face.
“I quite enjoyed your rambling,” he steps closer to you as you turn to look up at him. “It was very… what’s the word… suggestive,” he looks off as if he’s running deep thoughts.
You roll your eyes—yup, definitely horny and needy words were said. Feeling somewhat brave—maybe it was because you weren’t really hungover and the fact that Jungkook is standing there like that in front of you—you step towards him so your chests are touching.
“Maybe you should remind me what I said one day then?” You whisper only so he can hear. He chuckles through his nose before placing one of his hands on your back to pull you flush against him.
“Why not right now?” He says, his nose dipping to touch yours. His eyes are soft but carry a darkness to them you can’t quite read. You give him a small nod before you move your head to place your lips on his. Your mouths mold together like putty slowly before he slips his tongue into your mouth to tease you.  
You pull away quickly, “Wait, don’t you have roommates?” You whisper again looking around the quiet apartment. You noticed how clean it was to be housed by 3 men in their early twenties.
“They’re asleep,” he says, caressing your lower back, his hand begging to go to your ass but he restrains himself. “So you’ll have to be quiet, unlike last night,” he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Challenge accepted,” you grab his face to pull him back down to you to connect your lips once more.
His hands grapple your waist desperately to pull you flush against him. He smells like laundry and cotton, the scent driving you mad. As Jungkook realizes that the two of you are still in his kitchen and Yugyeom or Mingyu could easily come out of their rooms any moment, he pulls away from you and you follow him back into his room. He wastes no time shutting his door and pushing you against it.
You felt yourself growing dizzier by the second as he continued to kiss you with a gentle force that you’ve never experienced before. He was probably the best kisser you’ve ever kissed.  You could tell he wanted to touch you and you wanted him to touch you so you began to trace your hands up his sculpted back and pushing your hips out towards him.
Jungkook now having your permission, one of his hands trail up your thigh to push his t-shirt away from your backside, his large hand massaging the skin carefully and calculated. Suddenly you found his lips on your neck as he pushes your body further into his door.
“Jungkook,” you groaned quietly as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He pulls your thigh up against his leg and you nearly let out a moan when you feel his hardening cock press into your center.
“Fuck,” you breathe out as you let out an experimental roll of your hips against his. Jungkook pulls back with a short chuckle before kissing your lips gently again.
“Quiet,” he laughs again and you push his chest away from yours to get him to sit on the edge of his bed. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his tiny waist and thick thighs. You continued to kiss like no tomorrow before you placed your palm over his center.
“Shit,” he groans into your mouth as you palm him slowly and torturously. “Y/N, wait, are you sure?”  
You pull your hand back and stare down at him with hazy eyes. You nod frantically, “Yes, are you?”
“God yes,” he breathes out and in one smooth motion, he flips you two over with him standing in between your legs. He begins to take his shirt from your body and you happily help him and his eyes immediately go to your breasts, your nipples taut for him.
He kisses you again before kissing down your neck and then down over your boobs, his tongue swirling and his teeth nipping at all the right places. Jungkook finds himself on his knees, right in front of where you need each other most. He spreads your legs a little more before he goes right in to kiss your center over your underwear. Your head falls back as you rest on your hands watching him bite his lip in excitement. You’d never had a guy go down on your the first hookup—you thought you could be in love right now.
His brown eyes glance at you briefly before you nod for him to make sure what he was going was okay. He fingers pull at your underwear and you lift your hips to help him drag the material down your legs. He grabs your hips and pulls your towards him, his mouth going straight to work on you.
You shut your eyes at the feeling unable to keep them open as he laps up and down your slit. He kisses you with hunger and when he finds your clit, the moan that escapes your mouth is loud and embarrassing.
“Oh god, Jungkook,” he smirks against your pussy before continuing to lap at your sensitive bud, his fingers now teasing your entrance.
He slips in one finger, pumping it slowly before entering a second—stretching you just how you need. You fall back on your elbows and your toes curl when you feel an orgasm close approaching.
“Fuck, fuck,” your hips raise as he focuses on your clit, his eyes never leaving your face. He can tell you’re about to come and he’d be damned if he didn’t bring you there. Two more kitten licks send you over the edge and you climax hard having to bite your lip so you don’t make much noise.
Jungkook licks his lips as he comes back to you to kiss you. You welcome him with open arms and you pull him on top of you. You needed him now and the issue in his pants showed he wanted you just as much. You help him push down his sweats and boxers and when you first get sight of his dick, your mouth nearly drops. Okay—the universe was definitely helping you out right now.
You reach down between you, wrapping your hands around his girth to fully harden him. He sucks in a deep breath when you pull and tug at his sensitive skin. You take his pre cum on your thumb and rub it around to make the slip easier. His forehead falls against your shoulder as you continue to jerk him off. His breathing increases as each pull comes from your hand and he’ quickly pushing your hand away.
“I wanna be inside you baby,” he says and it sends a shockwave through your core.
Jungkook finds a condom from his side table and rolls it on quickly. He positions himself between you, his nose brushing against yours as he pecks your lips.
“Ready?” He asks you as he guides his tip into you. Both of your mouths fall agape, a small whine coming from Jungkook’s throat as he pushes deeper into you. “Fuck—Y/N, you’re so tight.”
You lift your hips to help him get as deep as possible and when he bottoms out, you’re unsure if you’ve ever felt this full your entire life. His forehead falls against your shoulder once more and he kisses your exposed skin gently as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you.
He feels more than amazing and your whole body feels on fire.
“Jungkook,” you breathe out as you wrap your legs around his back, “Faster, please.” You don’t care about sounding desperate.
He sits up on his elbows and obeys, snapping his hips against you harder and quicker. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingertips pulling at his hair and neither of you can be quiet now.
“Shit,” he marvels at the way he disappears inside of you, your cunt squeezing around him so he won’t leave.
“Jungkook—ah,” he hits your deepest spot in you and he sticks his thumb in your mouth to bite down on to shut you up. His other fingers grip the side of your neck and you feel like you could pass out from his ministrations.
“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he whispers in your ear and you nod pulling his face down to you, snapping your hips to meet up with his. You found yourself clenching around his cock as Jungkook’s breaths get shakier and shakier. “Fuck Y/N.”
“Don’t stop,” you managed to get out as he hammered you into his mattress, hitting your g-spot perfectly—another orgasm quickly coming into your system. Jungkook’s face was contorted and tortured as he chased his high deep inside of you. “Come on Jungkook,” you whisper beside his ear and he lifts his head up, crashing his lips onto yours.
Between your desperate attempts to be quiet and Jungkook’s relentless pace, you come again around his cock fast and hard, pulsating around him in spurts.
“Ah—fuck,” Jungkook’s hips ram into yours deeply as he finally finds his release. He collapses on top of your frame, his elbows the only thing holding him up. He pulls himself out of you a moment later, but he doesn’t move his body from above you.
Both of you are breathing heavy, it being the only sound radiating in the room. You caress  the right side of his face, pushing his bangs away from his forehead. He leans into your touch with a small smile before kissing your wrist gently. He then rolls his body from yours, discarding of his condom quickly.
You both turn to each other as Jungkook throws an arm lazily around your waist.
“Are you even real?” His deep voice suddenly says with his eyes closed. You give him a sheepish smile as he opens his eyes.
“The universe is fucking funny huh?” You say and Jungkook laughs deep within his chest.
“Very funny,” he mumbles before watching your face intently.
“Now what?” You ask obliviously. Sure, you had your hookups on and off before but with Jungkook—something felt different—in a good way. Like he wasn’t supposed to be a hookup—but something more.
He shrugs, “Whatever you wanna be.”
You bite your lip hesitating before saying, “I know you just got out of a relationship so I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything.”
“It’s fine Y/N,” he gives you a small smile, “I’m fine with whatever you’re fine with. As long as you don’t break my heart.”
You laugh, swatting at his chest playfully, “You mean as long as you don’t break my heart.”
He smirks, “Deal.”
.
You meet with Namjoon and Jungkook the following week to begin working on your project. You three decided on meeting in the library after all of your classes were over for the day to keep it convenient. You and Jungkook finished around the same time and ended up grabbing some food before heading out to the library. It had not been that long since you and Jungkook hooked up and you two began to text and Snapchat each other everyday. Your friendship with Jungkook hadn’t changed in any way as you two didn’t officially have a label yet, but now one look at him sent you weak to the knees.  
“You guys seriously couldn’t wait for me to get food?!” Namjoon shows up on the second floor of the library around 6:25 PM. You and Jungkook laugh at him as he sits down. He looks exhausted.
“Rough day?” You ask him as he sits down from across from you and Jungkook.
He lets out a deep sigh, “Have you ever amputated a finger before?”
You and Jungkook give each other an odd glance before scrunching your nose, “No, what the fuck?” Jungkook mutters.
Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Well how about 4 fingers? That was my day summed up and I still think I’m queasy,” he shakes his head slowly.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Joon, don’t you wanna be a doctor?”
“Family medicine, not surgery or anything gross like that,” he explains and that makes much more sense—though I’m sure Namjoon knows medical school has a lot more than family medicine waiting for him.
“Gotcha,” you pull up the documents you have saved for your research on your computer. Under the table, Jungkook nudges your knee with his and you have to fight the urge to smile.
Namjoon watches, the two of you oblivious.
“You look happy,” he says. Jungkook looks up from his phone and you from your screen.
“Who?” You and Jungkook same at the same time.
Namjoon narrows his eyes, “Both of you… strange,” he licks his lips pondering on his words.
You glance at Jungkook before turning back to your screen, not wanting to be caught in his stare.
“Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?” Jungkook laughs sarcastically.
You bite your lip trying to suppress your smile. Sure, you and Jungkook had hooked up once or twice now and you two were slowly getting to know each other more everyday—but you swore the butterflies in your stomach told you something was special about him.
“I mean, you’re just always so quiet… and—hey why are you laughing?” Namjoon looks at you with a serious expression.
“I’m not laughing,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Yeah Y/N, quit laughing,” Jungkook says, nudging your leg under the table again.
“God I’m gonna get queasy again,” Namjoon’s face contorts, his eyes darting between the two of you, “Since when do you two flirt with each other? In front of me?”
Once again, you keep your eyes away from Jungkook, “We’re not flirting,” you say monotonously.
Namjoon looks at Jungkook since you refuse to meet anyone’s gaze. Namjoon raises his  eyebrows at his friend curiously, an unspoken language going between them. Jungkook smirks before giving you one last glance before he says—
“Y/N and I hooked up.”
Your eyes widen instantly at Jungkook’s words and you whip your head to turn towards him.
“Jungkook what the fuck! I thought we weren’t gonna tell anyone!” Your words give away to Namjoon that Jungkook wasn’t bluffing.
Jungkook’s eyes soften looking at you, “Come on, his crazy ass was onto us anyways,” he motions towards Namjoon.
“Yeah, uh huh. I knew something was off when Jungkook’s ears kept going red every time he looked at you,” Namjoon slowly starts to smile, “How disgusting is that.”
You flip him off, “Well, don’t tell anyone.”  
“So,” Namjoon pauses, “You guys aren’t…?” He trails his question off and both of you know what he wants to say. Soulmates.
Slowly, you both shake your head. Namjoon is slightly confused himself. Normally by 18 years old people have their other half assigned to them—him included. His partner’s name appeared on the inside of his palm when he was 15. But you and Jungkook were almost 22?
“Do you guys have one? That you just haven’t met yet?” Namjoon keeps his question low.
Again, you both shake your heads. Wow, Namjoon thinks. An idea suddenly pops into his head.
“Wait so—I have an idea,” Namjoon’s eyes light up.
“Oh god,” Jungkook mumbles.
“So if you guys don’t have partners and you two keep… doing it,” he pauses with a laugh, “Couldn’t we use your experience in our project?”
It takes a few moments for Namjoon’s words to register as your mouth falls agape. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose, unsure if he heard Namjoon correctly.
“Hyung, didn’t you just hear her say not to tell anyone?” Jungkook deadpans.
“I mean we don’t have to specify names,” Namjoon quickly elaborates, “I mean you guys did some research right? You’ve read all the horrible stuff that happens to people who go against nature.”
Yeah, you did read about that stuff and it absolutely terrified you. But even after hooking up with Jungkook and other suitors in your life—nothing bad had happened to you, so if anything, this research exists to only frighten people.
“Namjoon, I get what you’re saying but—I don’t know, we might not even hook up again,” you laugh waving your hand off.
“Wait, why not?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly goes to a higher pitch, his eyes looking at you quickly. Namjoon chuckles at the exchange. Namjoon had known Jungkook a long time and he’s never seen him want this much validation from a female—ever.
“I mean,” you pause looking at the dark haired boy beside you, “I didn’t know if—“
“Yeah yeah, work out this shit later,” Namjoon interrupts, “But I don’t know, just something to keep in mind over the rest of the semester.”
With that, the conversation ended and the three of you managed to begin typing up your report. Occasionally, you would bump Jungkook’s knee here and there just to see his reaction. He would smile although not sparing a glance at you. By the end of your study session, all three of you got a good start on the project and Jungkook’s hand rested on your thigh the whole night and you knew it didn’t belong anywhere else.
.
Weeks later, yours and Jungkook’s relationship became slightly more complicated. While you two managed to stay cordial in class and hide whatever the hell was going on between you two—once you two were alone, all bets were fucking off. Jungkook would come to your place or you would go to his when his roommates were out and he would fuck you into the mattress until you were nearly screaming. It was good—he was good—and quickly you felt yourself starting to catch feelings for him. You knew that was dangerous territory considering a name might pop up on your body any day, so as hard as it was, you repressed your feelings for him. You were unsure of how Jungkook felt. As better as he was at talking now and he did trust you, he wasn’t one for deep talk unless he had a few glasses of wine in his system. You were fine with that though, knowing it was probably for the better.
You had thought everything was going good—Jungkook, classes, exams, your project, keeping up with Taehyung and Jimin—until it all came crashing down one afternoon at your apartment.
It was a Friday afternoon and you had invited Jungkook over to… well… get your brains fucked out. You like to think you are a smart girl but today, you were being a grade ass dumbass because you had completely forgotten about your lunch date with Taehyung and Jimin.
Normally, Taehyung wouldn’t have cared if you had missed one day with him but as your best friend of years and years—he noticed something had been off with you lately. Slightly more… flakey than normal. Jimin noticed it too. So when Taehyung found himself outside of your apartment that Friday afternoon, what he saw—shook him to his core.
You and Jungkook had just gotten out of the shower after going at it like bunnies for a good hour. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, placing his lips around yours and down your neck, leaving barely there marks behind of your ears.
“Jungkook—stop,” you push his bare chest away as you heard someone knocking on your door. He gives you a shit-eating grin, staying back in the hallway as you go to the door, holding the towel up around your body tight.
You open the door and your face fell instantly. Fuck.
“Taehyung? Jimin?” Your voice shakes, “W-what are you doing here?”
Without any warning Taehyung and Jimin step into your apartment and you begin to panic.
“What the hell Y/N, you’ve bailed on us without explanation three times now!” Taehyung says dramatically, “I mean damn I know Jimin and I are disgusting sometimes but the least you can do is give a heads—what’s that?” Taehyung’s eyes land on your neck and you step away from him, holding your towel closer to you.
“N-nothing,” you stutter. “I’m s-sorry I forgot about lunch, I’ve been really busy lately,” your excuse is lame, but you have nothing else.
“Busy?” Taehyung says eyeing you up and down, “I can see that.”
“Y/N hey where is—“ your eyes roll into the back of your head as Jungkook enters your living room at just the wrong time. No, he didn’t know it was Taehyung and Jimin, but it still doesn’t make you happy. Especially since he’s just wearing sweatpants, his hair wet like yours, compromising your secret.
“Whoa,” Jimin suddenly laughs looking at the scene. “This the quiet one?” He points over at Jungkook. Jungkook pouts—what are they talking about?—he thinks to himself.
“Holy shit Y/N what are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t seem as enthusiastic. He looks over at Jungkook and you swear you see Taehyung salivate inside his mouth, “I mean I get why you’re doing it but, c’mon isn’t this risky?”
“I know you’re probably confused,” you bite your lip nervously. “I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”
“Yeah no shit,” he genuinely seems angry, an emotion not common to him. “We’re best friends Y/N.”
“Tae, c’mon it’s really none of our business,” Jimin steps in trying to help you out.
“It is too my business when he could potentially hurt her,” Taehyung crosses his arms. Jungkook seems taken aback by his comment and he steps towards you from behind.
“I mean I like her,” Jungkook’s voice quickly speaks up, startling you from behind. You turn your body to look at him, his eyes meeting yours.
“You do?” Your voice comes out in a squeak, a smile spreading on your face like a wildfire.
“You do?” Taehyung asks this time, looking between you two. He looks at his partner Jimin who specializes in this stuff. Jimin nods at Taehyung for reassurance.
“Yeah, a lot actually,” Jungkook steps closer to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his chest. You try to hide your embarrassingly huge smile.
Taehyung’s body visibly falters, his eyes going back to his usual soft gaze. Taehyung knew you deserved happiness and if Jungkook made you happy—who was he to stop that?
“I’m sorry again for keeping this from you, it’s just we didn’t want…”
“No I get it,” he nods, “But don’t do that shit again,” he gives you a smile. As warm as Jungkook’s embrace is, you step away and give yourself to Taehyung’s arms.
“You’re the best,” you mumble into his chest.
“Bitch, I know,” his chest rumbles against yours. Jungkook watches you and Taehyung embrace, his heart swelling. Goddamn—maybe he is in a little too deep. At this point, he doesn’t care though. If anything, he wants to make you happy and he’d be damned to let the universe stop that.
.
It was officially Halloween. Nearly three months after you and Jungkook first crossed paths and met, the two of you were also “official”. Neither of you can recall the exact date it happened, but it was not long after Taehyung and Jimin busted you two. You and Jungkook had decided to not tell that many people outside of your inner circle—neither of you wanting to deal with the glares and questions. You didn’t have a name attached on your body and he didn’t either, so what were you guys doing wrong? Nothing. He was yours and you were his and you haven’t been this happy in a long time.
Jungkook, though his Virgo nature being quite selfish sometimes, was always sweet, caring, checking in on you, surprising you with flowers, genuine, and opened up some of his deepest fears to you. You had been on cloud nine for months all because of him. You had probably thanked Namjoon at least six different occasions for dragging you over to meet them way back when. Namjoon was happy for you two—though being as quizzical as he was—he had his concerns, though he never outright voiced them.
Jimin being how he was, had his concerns too. Everyone around you and Jungkook saw how you two were infatuated around each other. Jimin had never seen two people who weren’t soulmates have the connection you two had. It worried him for many reasons, which is why he’s voicing them to Taehyung right now.
“Babe, I don’t know,” Jimin says as him and Taehyung somehow got on the topic of you and Jungkook. “Don’t you think they’re moving really fast?” He questions.
Taehyung looks at his partner, a confused expression crossing his features, “Why do you say that? As long as Y/N is happy, I don’t really care who dicks her down at night, soulmate or not.”
Jimin lets out a laugh before shaking his head, “I mean, in all my case studies I’ve never seen two people like that.”
Taehyung deadpans his boyfriend, “Jimin, you of all people should know that’s not true.”
Jimin nods, immediately understanding where he is coming from. “I know. I’m just worried one of them will get hurt. A name is destined to show up on them eventually.”
Taehyung grinds his teeth, “Y/N has never been one to feed into that stuff so I’m not sure she would care anyways.”
“But she should Tae,” Jimin says, “Jungkook too. I mean there’s serious repercussions to messing with nature.”
“Well they’re fine now, aren’t they?” by Taehyung’s response—Jimin isn’t even sure if he full listening to him. Taehyung being good with numbers and business, he doesn’t fully grasp the concepts of soulmates like Jimin does. For Jimin—it’s his studies, his passion, his life.
“Yeah but—“ Jimin gets cut off by a harsh knock on his apartment door.
“They’re here,” Taehyung smiles walking over to get the door, “Don’t say anything sketch okay?” he warns Jimin as he opens the door.
You nearly fall on your ass as Taehyung opens the door. Jungkook pulls you back with a laugh as you walk into Jimin’s apartment.
“Tae! Chim!” You smile widely, throwing your arms around Taehyung’s neck tightly. You stumble in your heels and Taehyung’s hands steady you, a rumble in his chest.
“Jesus Y/N. How much have you drank already?” He exasperates, glancing over at Jungkook.
“I told her to slow down,” Jungkook puts his hands up in defense. You giggle letting go of your friend to quickly hug Jimin too. “She doesn’t listen to me,” he adds with a laugh.
“I’m fine guys,” you say glancing at Taehyung’s and Jimin’s costumes.”Really? Pirates?”  
“Hey!” Taehyung defends, “How much more cliché could you two get? A doctor and a nurse?!”
You glance over at Jungkook in his scrubs and white coat and down your body. A slutty red and white nurse’s uniform complete with thigh highs hug your figure and you quite liked it, mainly because watching Jungkook shift uncomfortably every time he glanced at you made you feel accomplished.
“Hey, we look hot,” you point at Taehyung’s chest, stumbling backwards again. Jungkook decides to pull you to his side, not wanting you to fall on your ass for real this time.
“Come on babe, slow down,” Jungkook mumbles as he wraps his arms around your front, glancing down your cleavage from behind. You nudge his stomach with your elbow.
“I’m a big girl,” you pout, “So are we going or what?”
“Yeah, just waiting on the address,” Jimin smiles waving his phone in the air.
A few moments pass, chatter between the four of you ensues. You loved your little group. Taehyung and Jimin welcomed Jungkook with open arms, the four of you going out on double dates, grabbing coffee, watching movies, and studying all became weekly occurrences. You were always so scared to dive into another relationship given your age and circumstance, but you swore that someway and somehow—you and Jungkook were meant to be together.
Twenty minutes later, the four of you step out of your Uber and make your way towards the new bar that opened near your campus. It was opening weekend and a Halloween party was obviously necessary. You held onto Jungkook’s hand tightly as you made your way inside the crowded area. You immediately aimed your way to the bar, ordering a vodka-soda, Jungkook ordering some soju.
“Don’t blackout on me now,” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, watching the way you take a huge sip of your drink.
“I said I’m a big girl,” you stand your ground, “I bet I can put away twice as many drinks as you.”
“Don’t listen to her Jungkook,” Taehyung says grabbing his own mixed drink, “She likes to spit nonsense when she’s drunk.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” he smirks at you and roll your eyes at him. Jungkook leans down and you peck his lips lightly—the same butterflies swirling in your stomach all these months later. Jimin watches the interaction closely. He knows exactly how you and Jungkook feels, but he still can’t shake the uneasiness deep in his gut.
“Come on, let’s dance,” you smile up at your boyfriend tugging on his arm. The music was loud and good, you were not just going to stand around. Jungkook nods quickly as you finish your drink, leaving Taehyung and Jimin behind at the bar.
Your heels made you more even with Jungkook’s height tonight as you threw your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. His hands grip you waist tightly, wanting every guy here to know that you were his. For some reason, for whatever fucking reason—Jungkook felt inclined to protect you. As you sing whatever song was playing loudly, Jungkook found himself smiling and laughing at you. His chest twisted and his heart thumped. He still pinched himself when he woke up in the mornings. How did he get so lucky in this fucked world of destiny? If you weren’t meant for him, then who was?
You turn around pushing your back to his front. He holds you close as you both sway to the music as if it’s only you and him against the world. He smiles into your neck, kissing your delicate skin once in awhile. He spins you out from him and spins you back in quickly, your mind going dizzy.
“Hey careful,” you whine as you turn to him once again, “I’m drunk you know.”
“I thought you were a big girl,” he teases you and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Maybe not when I’m drunk,” you yell-whisper into his ear. He laughs, pulling you into a kiss. To any wondering eye, it would look as if you two were soulmates among other destined couples. Maybe that was the point? To fake it and then it becomes real?
Your heart swells at the thought. Jungkook studies your face intently, knowing that uttering his next words could be real dangerous but when you flash your gorgeous smile at him—he knows he has to say it.
“Wanna know a secret?” He asks.
“Sure.”
“I love you,” the words spill from his mouth. Your movements stop and you swear your drunkeness subsides momentarily.
“W-what?” You stutter. Did you hear him correctly?
“I know we’re drunk and this isn’t the best time but yeah,” he nods, “I love you Y/N.”
You head spins and you heart drops into your stomach. A smile creeps up onto your face.
“Really?” you ask, your eyes similar to those of a puppy. Jungkook nods, biting his lip. Will you say it back? “Thank fucking god, I thought I was the only one,” you say dramatically.
He furrows his eyebrows, chuckling, “Really?”
“Jeon Jungkook I fucking love you too,” you say, “I was waiting on you to say it.”
Once again he laughs, “Babe you can’t wait on stuff, you gotta go after what you want.”
“Well I already have you, don’t I?” You point out, “Come on, let’s go home.”
“Why? We’ve have one drink babe,” he says as you’re tugging on his hand.
“I know,” you look at him with a devilish smirk, “But I wanna fuck you and I’m not doing that in this bar.”
Jungkook’s face falls, blood rushing to his cock. “Fair enough.”
.
November is cold, which means December is going to be even colder. The days get shorter and your nights get longer as you try to prepare for finals in the next few weeks. Currently you’re bundled in two layers of clothing in the back of the library with Namjoon, adding the finishing touches on your final project that’s also due soon. Jungkook had to attend a seminar for one of his classes this evening which is why he’s MIA.
“Lucky shit,” Namjoon remarks when you explain your boyfriend’s absence. It was still strange to refer to him as your boyfriend.
“Would you honestly want to be lectured about how building muscles in the key to life right now?” You raise an eyebrow at him pointedly. Jungkook could even admit as a sports medicine major some of the people and things he learns about is absolute horseshit.
Namjoon laughs, “Touche.”
You’re working on the presentation aspect of you project while Namjoon is typing away at the research paper. As much as you despised the soulmate hoopla, reading about this stuff was very interesting. You had read how soulmates are apparently linked and of course, there is truly only one person meant for you. You rolled your eyes at these statements. If that was true, then why have you still not been given a name? There were so many questions that were just unanswerable that you couldn’t get over. Sure, the soulmate thing worked for some you couldn’t lie about that. At the end of the day though, perhaps you were one of the lucky ones—not bound by a name and given free reign over who is in the same spot as you.
“How’s everything going with you two by the way?” Namjoon asks curiously. His eyes haven’t left his computer screen so you oppose looking back at him when you answer.
“Good,” you smile slightly, “It’s still weird to think that we’re together,” you laugh at your statement.
He smiles to himself, “Weird for you? How about weird for me? I introduced the two of you being Jungkook is shy twat.”
“I know, I know,” you reach across the table and squeeze Namjoon’s hand playfully, “Which is why I’ve thanked you how many times now?”
“Yeah yeah, you only. Jungkook hasn’t given me his thanks yet.”
“I wouldn’t expect him too.”
“Trust me, I’m not,” he smiles with another stifled laugh as you two try to keep quiet. “So nothing’s really happened between you two?”
He’s referring to your project which you hastily agreed on letting yours and Jungkook’s “experience” to be first hand research.
You shake your head, “No. By the fifth time we had sex I was expecting to “feel excruciating pain deep within my chest as the universe tries to pull me away” him,” you quote one of the claims made by a well-known and well respected researcher. It was almost comical—how could anyone believe this stuff?
“Okay, TMI,” he puts his hands up.
“Hey this was your idea,” you remind him.
“It’s just wild to me,” he says, “I mean we grow up thinking there’s someone out there only meant for us and you and Jungkook… just don’t have one?” He looks off in the distance and you’re not sure if you should be offended by his statement—though Namjoon is a realist and he’s very logical so everything he’s saying is true.
“We have each other,” you shrug, “That’s good enough for me. I love him for who he is,” you almost feel heat coming to your face but you push it down.
“That’s how I feel about Kaya,” he almost smiles.
You look at him curiously—Namjoon hardly ever speaks of his soulmate. They’ve been together for a long time but she goes to university a couple hours from here so they don’t get to see each other as often as they would like.
“Can I see?” You whisper. He furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Your mark, I mean.”
Namjoon looks down at his left hand before nodding, opening his palm for you. In faint white writing, almost skin color—is the name Kaya in beautiful cursive. It makes your heart strings feel heavy for a moment. You knew you didn’t need a name to find love but you had always been curious about what it would be like to dawn one.
“Did it hurt? When it showed up?”
He shakes his head, “Not really, just kind like a little sting.”
“Why do you think I don’t have one? And Jungkook too?”
Your question catches him off guard. Honestly if anyone could answer this question, it was Park Jimin but he obviously wasn’t here. Namjoon was smart though—maybe he had good theories.
“I honestly don’t know,” he says softly, “I feel all the research of this stuff only applies for people who have one.”
You snort, “Right.”
“I mean you can never say never though,” he shakes his head, “Just because society has said before eighteen, that could be bullshit for all we know. You saw how in some of these articles, some names showed up in people’s early and mid-twenties too.”
“Yeah… and then what?”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“It’s just seems so unfair that I can see Jungkook in my life after college and that could be taken away so easily. Or I could be taken away from him… it’s just so fucked don’t you think?” You don’t even realize how shaky your tone is, but Namjoon picks it up.
“Are you worried about that?”
Your mouth goes dry, “I like to think he’s the one for me,” you say after a few seconds of silence.
He bites his lip, unsure of what to say next, “Well maybe he is,” he offers trying to lighten your mood.
You look down at your hands, inspecting your wrist and fingers carefully. Your stomach churns at your next thought.
“And what if he isn’t?” You glance back to find his eyes staring holes into you.
“Then it wasn’t meant to be. I’d like to think the universe isn’t wrong.”
You nod slowly taking in his words. Sure you and Jungkook had been official for awhile now and you hoped that this feeling with him would never end. You liked to think the universe isn’t wrong either and maybe that’s why you and Jungkook found each other—cause it was meant to be.
Yours and Namjoon’s conversation stuck with you the rest of the evening. Jungkook had picked you up from the library in his black Mercedes around 8 PM. Even though it was a Wednesday, you and Jungkook had been staying at each other’s places more often than not. With your only roommate being away in Europe for study abroad, it was nice having him stay with you.
Jungkook noticed something was bothering you as he drove back to your place as you didn’t say much to him. You gripped his hand tightly in yours but the way your eyes didn’t meet his— it worried him. He became even more worried when you didn’t want to eat dinner after he had picked up your favorite takeout. It was his treat to you since he was unable to come to the library tonight.
“I’m just not that hungry,” you said pushing around the Chinese food with your chopsticks. You were both sat on your couch, your feet up in his lap watching some romantic-comedy TV show—Jungkook’s choosing—not yours.
“You’re always hungry,” he says poking at your leg to try to get a smile from you. Nothing. He furrows his eyebrows at you though you don’t even notice it as you’re looking away from him.
“What’s up babe?” Jungkook’s question takes you out of your thoughts. Were you that obvious?
“Hm?” You glance at him, trying to play your emotions off.
“You’re just being so… quiet?” He says softly, setting down his plate on the coffee table. He shifts his body to your frame, a hand holding up his head on the back of the couch.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, “Just have a lot on my mind.”
“Y/N you can tell me anything you know,” he rubs the back of your calves. The motion alone relaxes you significantly and you still don’t know how someone has this affect over you.
You pause, unsure if you should voice your worries to him. Would they cause problems between you two if you said what you were actually thinking? Was Namjoon right? “It’s just Namjoon and I were talking tonight and—“
“What did he say to you?” Jungkook quickly interrupts with a harsh tone. As much as Jungkook loved Namjoon like a brother—he was too brash and sometimes that lead to hurt feelings.
“It’s nothing he said it just got me thinking,” you shake your head aimlessly, looking behind Jungkook’s head at the wall.  He doesn’t say anything wanting you to continue. “Don’t you worry about the future?”
Jungkook purses his lips, thinking deeply about your question before answering honestly.
“Everyday,” he says, “But I like to live for now, in the present… why are you asking?”
“What are we supposed to do if we’re separated, huh?” The words tumble from your mouth, your tone not the sweetest. You tense up in Jungkook’s hands and he notices your demeanor quickly changing.
“Why are you saying that Y/N?” His voice is confused and heavy.
“Because I fucking love you Jungkook and I don’t want you taken away from me, that’s why,” you let out a deep breath, pushing yourself up and off the couch. Jungkook watches you as you stand up and walk towards the kitchen. You’re clearly distressed about something. Slowly, he rises to his feet sauntering over to your frame that’s staring down at the sink.
“Y/N,” his voice is low behind you. Your knuckles are nearly white from gripping the side of the counter so hard. You felt tears pricking in your eyes that you had to force away. Jungkook wraps his arms around your front and you lean back into his frame.
He rests his head on your shoulder, “Baby I get it, okay? I know it’s scary not knowing what the hell is wrong with people like us—“
“That’s the problem Jungkook,” you say, “There’s something wrong with us and it’s fucked up. How do we know that this, us, is okay?”
“Listen I know you don’t believe in destiny and all that stuff but,” he pauses nuzzling into your neck, “But I do and I feel like if this, us—isn’t meant to be, then what is?”
You lean your head on his before you reluctantly turn your body around, your hands sliding behind his torso.
“How are you so sure?” You mutter meeting his gaze. His eyes are worried for you but still deep down, they have a light and wonder you’ve never fully understood.
He gives you a tiny smile, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I love you, okay? Like I’ve never loved anyone more before, I promise you, we’ll be fine. You will be fine.”
The weight from your shoulders is lifted as Jungkook’s words reassure you. He had such a hopeless romantic complex about him, you were sure he knew everything right to say to make you feel better. He was right—the odds of you two being this late in the game and meeting can’t be coincidental. He was yours and you were his—that’s all that mattered.
“Are you good now?” He raises his eyebrows at you and you nod against his forehead, leaning forward to peck his lips.
“Much better,” you then say. Jungkook chases his mouth with yours again before pulling away after a brief kiss.
“Good because I had something important to ask you anyways,” he says giving you some space.
Your eyes bulge, a worried look instantly spreading on your features, “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you? After what we just—“
He shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not right now at least,” he continues to laugh and your heart lurches at the thought. “But I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to Busan with me, for Christmas?”
You are taken aback by his question, your mouth parting unsure of what to say.
“Like go home with you?” He nods at your question, “And meet your family?” He nods again.
“I know we haven’t been together that long but I’d figure I would offer,” he shrugs.
“Do your parents know about us?”
“I mentioned someone to them on the phone the other day.”
“Do they know the full situation?” you ponder. You two weren’t soulmates and meeting parents was a huge step.
“No,” he says, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t fake it,” a smirk spreads on his lips.
“Jungkook, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”
“None of my ideas are the best ideas let’s be real,” he chuckles, “And I’m not saying you have to go, but if you want to the offer is there.”
You bite your lip as your eyes meet. The stove light was shining on his face so his small scar was prominent. It would be nice you suppose, meeting his brother who gave him that scar and his parents too. You had never met any of your significant other’s parents—Jungkook really must believe in you two then.
“I’ll think about it,” you smile up at him, squeezing your arms tightly around his frame. He nods before leaning down, kissing you once again gently. Your night ends with you finally eating your food and Jungkook in your bed making you feel better than anyone ever has. It was perfect.
WINTER
“And how, may I ask,” your professor’s voice is the first to ask a question when you are done speaking, “Did the three of you manage to maintain data regarding the intimacy of two people whose souls are not bound yet?”
Your eyes flicker over to Namjoon and Jungkook. You’re about to respond but Namjoon beats you to it.
“Professor Jung, we know it can seem like we made up part of our research but,” he pauses, “But we trust the individuals who relayed us this information in the past three months and out of respect for them… we ask for you not to probe too much.”
Your professor’s eyebrows raise at Namjoon’s comment. His eyes flicker between the three of you, unable to decipher Namjoon’s passive aggressiveness. You were thankful he decided to answer the question, because you’re sure that you would have been too nice about it. Why can’t this jackass just take the information you are presenting and shove it up his ass?  
“I see,” he breathes in deeply, “It just seems very hard for me to wrap my head around the argument that you’ve presented, when there’s so much research saying the opposite. The effects of intimacy is sacred for soul bonded people. Horrible illnesses and other things can happen to these people that go against nature.”
“It does seem that way professor,” you chime in, “But perhaps it’s time for new, more in-depth research to be done on this subject. These independent relationships may not work for everyone but in this case—it has.”
He chews on the end of his pen, “I agree wholeheartedly and though I still have my doubts about your research, I cannot deny the three of you have presented me with a topic that no one ever has before. The psychology behind soul-binding, sex, and relationships is amazing and endless… and isn’t the point of life to ask questions?” He seems to have lost somewhat focus on the three of you. What an idiot.  
“Exactly,” Jungkook nods sending you a quick wink. You chew on your bottom lip to avoid from grinning. “As they say, we learn something new everyday.”
“That you are correct Mr. Jeon,” he say points to your boyfriend. “Well, I think you three have presented a wonderful project and I look forward to reading your research paper for further depth. Expect a grade by the end of the week. Thank you, it was… mostly a pleasure having you in my class,” his eyes glance at you briefly and it takes all of you not to launch at him over his stupidly expensive desk.
“Thank you professor. Have a good winter break,” Namjoon smiles. The three of you leave the small conference room attached to his office. Thankfully, you did not have to present your project in front of the entire class.
You let out a groan of relief when the cold winter air welcomes you outside. “Thank god that’s over!” You smile up at the sky.
Jungkook throws an arm around your shoulder to pull you in close, “What grade do you think we’ll get hyung?” He smiles at Namjoon who is digging around for his phone.
“Hopefully an A. With the bullshit you were feeding him? I think he loved it, he was just being a hardass because of Y/N,” he motions to you.
You’re mouth falls open, “Hey! It’s not my fault he doesn’t like me! He’s a raging psychotic sexist,” you huff crossing your arms over you.
“Uh huh,” Namjoon hums, “First day straggler.”
You narrow your eyes at him before Jungkook nudges you, “C’mon I’m freezing, let’s go home,” he whines and you give him a small nod.  
“I’ll see you after break?” You ask the dimpled man in front of you.
He smiles, “Yeah for sure. But I gotta go—I have a plane to catch later tonight.”
“Where are you going?” This is even news to Jungkook.
“Oh, Kaya and I are going to Europe for two weeks, should be fun,” he looks down at his phone, “Oh shit, yeah I gotta go, Merry Christmas!” He waves at you two before running off in the opposite direction to the bus stop.
“Europe? I wanna go to Europe,” you pout looking up at Jungkook. He gives you a peck on the lips, your pout irrespective.
“We’ll go one day. It’s fun,” he says as you two begin to walk towards the student parking lot.
“You’ve been?”
“A few countries there, yeah,” he nods intertwining your fingers. Jeez, the amount of things and places Jungkook has been in his 22 years made your life look boring as hell. “Like I said, we’ll go—I promise,” is the last thing he says before you two get into his car.
The car ride is mostly a comfortable silence on the way to your place. His hand rests on your thigh, holding you tighter whenever he takes a turn.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Jungkook asks suddenly getting your attention.
“It’s not that I don’t want to Jungkook,” you say, “It’s just Taehyung said he was going to be here by himself all break and when he asked, I felt bad.”
He pouts giving you a glance, “I know but I’ll be lonelyyy,” he drags out.
“You have your whole family babe,” you laugh at his childish demeanor.
“Yeah but I’m not exactly into cuddling my brother when I go to sleep,” he mutters and you swat his arm. “And you’re telling me I have to go two weeks without having sex?!”
“Jungkook,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, “You’re starting to sound like Professor Jung with your concerns about sex.”
“Duh,” he says, “Why do you think I liked him so much?”
“I hate you,” you deadpan and you gives you a shit-eating grin.
“I love you too.”
.
The next couple days Jungkook stays at your place completely, not wanting to leave your side before he has to go to Busan for two weeks. He was very disappointed that you didn’t want to go to Busan with him, but he knew Taehyung was your best friend and you were bound to do anything for him.
“I can’t believe you’re trusting me with your car,” you say pulling into the train station parking garage. His Mercedes was a low-ground sports car, complete with a V8 engine and custom leather seats. You were still blown away that Jungkook had this car in college. You assumed that his parents must have money because you didn’t know how else to explain it.
Jungkook was nervous watching you drive his baby. When you would press on the gas or the breaks a little too hard he could felt his heart stop for a second.
“Yeah just please be careful,” he pleads as you park perfectly. You put his car in park and turn to him.
“Don’t you trust me?” You blink your lashes at him. He smirks adjusting the beanie on his head.
“I do,” he says, “Mostly.”
“Let’s make a deal Jeon,” you suggest as you help him unload his bags from the trunk. Jungkook was like a woman bringing two full suitcases and a duffle bag with him for a two week trip.
“Shoot babe,” he says.
“If nothing happens to your car in these two weeks—which it won’t—you can treat me for being a good girl,” you smirk up at him and he visibly gulps, rolling his tongue in his cheek. He thought your morning sex would have been enough but he wonder’s if he should take you into a bathroom at the train station and fuck your brains out again before he leaves.
“Deal,” he manages to choke out, going against his previous thought. Goddamn he was so in love with you he wasn’t sure he could make it without you for two weeks. In the five months you have known each other this was going to be longest time spent apart.
As you approach the ticket counter for Jungkook to check in, you start to feel a sadness settling in your heart and stomach. You felt like you were being dramatic about not seeing Jungkook for two weeks but he had become such an important role in your happiness—it was going to be weird not seeing him everyday. He truly was your other half.
“Alright I gotta head to my platform,” Jungkook says giving you a weak smile. “Thanks for driving me here.”
You try your best to muster up a smile, “No problem.”
He quickly pulls you in for a hug, encasing your frame around his tightly. You inhale his scent deeply so you won’t forget it in the next couple weeks.
“Don’t miss me too much,” he mumbles into your ear.
You pull your head out of his chest, “As long as you don’t miss me too much.”
God you two were disgusting.
He smiles leaning down a for kiss, you close the gap between you two. You only kiss for a moment not wanting to catch any unwanted attention.
“I love you,” you smile at him.
“I love you too,” he says, suddenly reaching into the deep pocket of his large sweatshirt. “Here,” he hands over a tiny box wrapped in Christmas paper and an envelope taped to the bottom of it.
“Jungkook,” you look at him and then the present, “We said we weren’t going to give each other presents.”
“I know but I couldn’t resist. I just thought of you when I saw it.”
“Thank you,” your heart flutters and you give him one last peck before he has to leave.  
“Merry Christmas,” he says, “I’ll let you know when I arrive.”
“Merry Christmas Jungkook.”
A brief walk back to Jungkook’s car has your heart in shambles. As you watched him leave for his platform, you couldn’t help but think you should have went with him. Taehyung would have understood—but that also meant meeting his parents and you weren’t sure that was a good idea just yet.
You settled into the driver seat of his car, carefully tearing the wrapping from the small box. Your eyes widen when you open it, a baby teal box revealing a beautiful ring on the inside. A gold band shines in the light, a small circular diamond in the middle shines even brighter.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, quickly ripping open the envelope that he also gave you. It contained a cheesy Christmas card, his handwriting scribbling—
Merry Christmas Y/N. You’ve changed my life in more ways than one. I’m just one call away and I’ll always be here for you.
Cheesy I know—but you know cheesy is my middle name.
I love you.
Jungkook
.
“Jesus Christ Y/N!” Taehyung exclaims when you show him your new accessory on your hand. “This must have been thousands of dollars,” he grabs your hand to inspect the jewelry. “Tiffany too? What kind of money is Jungkook’s parent’s shitting out for him to give you this?”
“Hey now, he does well with his photography,” you pinch in, noting that he began selling pieces after much consideration.
“I know I know but damn,” he moves your hand around to see the light catching in the diamond. “When did he give you this?”
“The other day when I dropped him off at the train station.”
“Wow… I think you’ve won in the boyfriend category Y/N,” his eyes still haven’t left your finger and you know it’s the alcohol in his system that is keeping him mesmerized.
“It’s not a competition dumbass,” you spew at him.
“What did you get him? An amazing blowjob topped with a new lens for his cameras?”
You laugh at Taehyung’s words, “I’m more mad at the fact the he even bought it, we said we weren’t going to give each other gifts.”
“Well shit Y/N he basically proposed to you—that’s not a gift, is it?” His glassy, wine drunk eyes look at you curiously.
You pull your hand away from him, laying back down against your couch.
“Tae,” you mutter, feeling slightly tipsy yourself, “Do you think Jungkook and I will last?”
Taehyung leans back beside you, exhaling a deep breathe heavily. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. The silence isn’t uncomfortable but it makes you nervous.
“Yeah,” he says, his eyes looking straight ahead, his tone real and understanding. Taehyung couldn’t voice it—no matter how much he wanted to over the months of you relationship with Jungkook—but he knew what you were going through in more ways than one.
“Really?” You look at him, nuzzling your head into his outstretched arm. He looks down at you before nodding.
“If you two want it to work… it will,” his voice deep and serious.
“How do you know that though?” You mutter, your tone down and pessimistic.
He breathes in deeply, “I just do… I know you two love each other. Anyone can see it Y/N. Don’t doubt anything unless you’ve been given a reason to doubt.”
Taehyung was always more philosophical when he was drinking and this proves that even more.
“Trust me,” his deep voice adds when you don’t say anything immediately .
“What would I do without you?” You finally muster looking up at him.
He smirks, “Lose your mind, that’s what.”
“Give me more credit than that asshole,” you push against his torso.
He laughs before responds with, “Hell no.”
“Well, should we open up our presents?” You give him a small smile glancing at the gifts that were lazily strewn on the floor. Your miniature Christmas tree was slightly pathetic—but it was better than nothing you suppose.
“Sure, but don’t expect another item from Tiffany alright?” He muses as he stands up to grab his gifts for you.
“Fuck off,” you laugh reaching your hands out as he places a bag and a box wrapped in front of you. You were sure Jimin wrapped these given how perfect they were.
“You first,” he gives you a warm smile. You dig into the bag first as it is less to unwrap. Your mouth drops open when you pull out a box of condoms, Taehyung stifling a laugh behind his smile.
“Taehyung are you kidding me?” You’re trying hard not to laugh either. He fucking would.
“Ultra thin… thought they would come in handy since, you know, you two fuck like bunnies,” he sends over a wink and you’re quick to flip him off. You open his next present which happens to be a coat you’ve been eyeing for the past few weeks, but hesitant to buy due to the $300 price tag.
“Tae, you didn’t have to get me this,” you marvel at the thick material, the baby blue color just the one you wanted. “This is too expensive—“
“Babe it’s fine,” he shakes his head, “I know you need some help with our wardrobe so I’m only offering my services,” he says matter of factly.
You move the box away from you and throw your arms around his neck. He hugs you tightly and in this moment you realize how happy your are. You perhaps have the best boyfriend and best friend of anyone you know. You didn’t think anything would change that.
“Here,” you pass Taehyung over your present and he quickly rips the paper off. He looks like a little kid on Christmas morning and you decide to pour more wine as he fidgets with the box.
“Shit Y/N!” He smiles widely, “Holy shit you didn’t have to get me this,” he takes his gift out of the box. He smiles widely at the leather bag you got him. Not a cheap price tag either—but it was Taehyung’s favorite bag and his old one was not cutting it anymore.
“It’s fine,” you shake your head, gulping down your white wine quickly. You two were quite drunk at this point.
“Jeez,” he shakes his head pulling you into another bone crushing hug, “Fuck Jimin and Jungkook. Let’s just get married, you and me kid.”
You laugh at his words, “Trust me, if you were straight I would take you up on that.”
The rest of your evening is spent with watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” more wine, and endless laughter with your best friend.
.
It’s about 5 AM when you wake up in your bed with a busting headache and a stomach ache that has you doubled over on your toilet. Fuck, did you really drink that much? Your question is answered when everything in your stomach is coming up through your esophagus. You don’t know how long you sit on your knees, hands on the toilet throwing up your guts.
“Y/N?” Taehyung appears at your bathroom door rubbing his eyes, “Whoa, are you okay?” He quickly comes down behind you, holding your hair back and away from your face.
Finally after what seems like forever, you stop throwing up, resting your head on the porcelain.
“Yeah,” you groan, your throat raw and sore, “I guess I just drank too much.”
“Shit, do you need anything?” He asks, voice laced with concern.
“Just some water please,” you tell him and he leaves to quickly get you a glass. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. You’re not sure the last time you were this hungover was. You knew you needed water and sleep—maybe that would alleviate the pain in your head and stomach.
You get back into bed a few moments later with Taehyung laying down beside you. He gives you your space and before you know it, both of you fall back to sleep.
You wake up again around 10 AM, your headache still busting but your stomach more settled now. You’re sipping tea watching another Christmas movie with Taehyung when your phone rings. A smile stretches on your face when you see Jungkook’s name pop up.
“Hey,” you answer the phone, sitting up from your position on the couch.
“Hey babe,” his voice brings comfort to your ears, “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” you say, “Did you have a good morning?”
Jungkook hesitates over the line before speaks again, “Uh, yeah… what about you?”
You furrow your eyebrows at his tone. He sounds… distant and unconfident with his words.
“I mean I’ve been better,” you laugh, watching Taehyung glance at you quickly.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
“Well I’m just really hungover, Taehyung really did a number on me with the wine last night,” you laugh again trying to ease whatever tension Jungkook is holding through the phone.
He chuckles nervously for a moment over the phone, “Well drink some water and rest okay?”
“I know, I’m gonna take it easy for the rest of the day,” you look at your nails that desperately need to be manicured.
“Yeah good,” is all he says and you purse your lips. Normally Jungkook is so talkative over the phone—what’s up with him?
“Babe are you okay?” You ask him with genuine concern. You would hate for him to be going through something and him not tell you. Taehyung gives you a weird look and you shrug your shoulders.
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m just tired from all the Christmas hoopla I’ve had to do the past few days,” he says seeming to explain his demeanor, “But I’m gonna call you later okay? I’ve got a Christmas brunch to get ready for but I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
You smile at his words, “Alright, have fun. I’ll talk to you later. Hurry home. I love you.”
“I’ll try I promise,” you can sense a small smile in his voice, “I love you too.” So much.
You stay sick for the next three days. Your body aches, your head hurts, and you’re still throwing up occasionally therefore you’ve barely had anything to eat the past three days. You and Taehyung are afraid you’ve picked up a small flu from someone. Despite this, Taehyung stays with you, not wanting to leave you alone sick like this.
Jimin gets back from home a couple days after you’ve fallen ill. Jimin being a medical guy himself, is unsure of what or who could have gotten you sick.
“As long as you don’t get and maintain a fever, I think you should be fine,” he says watching your frame on your couch. You had not felt this sick in so long and of course it had to be right before Jungkook got back home too.
“Should Jungkook come around her? He gets back when, tomorrow?” Taehyung asks you.
You nod, “Yeah, tomorrow evening,” you manage to say through your sore throat that feels like it’s actually on fire.
“I don’t think you’re contagious otherwise he would be sick too,” he motions to Taehyung, “He should be fine,” his voice is low and steady. His eyes don’t leave your frame though you’re too tired to notice Jimin’s intense stare.
You push yourself off of the couch, wanting to get some sleep in your bed. “I’m gonna take a nap, you guys don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”
Taehyung and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding, “We can get some food and bring some back for you later?”
“That would be great Tae,” you smile at him, “Thanks guys.”
Jimin and Taehyung leave your apartment, locking the door behind them with Taehyung’s spare key.
“Do you think she’s really okay? I’ve never seen her like this,” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin as he pulls up directions to the nearest ramen restaurant near them.
Jimin’s throat goes dry and he hesitates, biting his lip, “Honestly, I think we’ll just have to see.”
Jimin’s words are uneasy in Taehyung’s mind—both of them equally worried for you.
. You are jumping out of the shower when you get a text from Jungkook.
[Jungkook ♥ 6:58 PM] I’m about an hour away. Can’t wait to see you.
You smile at his text, heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again. Today you woke up feeling a lot better—still not 100%—but you could actually stomach food today. Despite your illness, you didn’t really care at this point. You could wait to see Jungkook—you missed him so much more than you thought you would have.
[You 7:00 PM] Perfect. I’ll see you soon ♥
[Jungkook ♥ 7:02 PM] ♥
The train station is more crowded than it was went you sent Jungkook off. The masses of being returning from their holiday was immense and you were afriad you weren’t going to be able to find Jungkook through the masses.
Little to your knowledge, Jungkook had spotted you after he exited his platform—a beautiful baby blue coat hanging off of your frame—signaling where you stood. After not seeing your face for two weeks, he smiled to himself. You were so fucking beautiful to him and he loved you so much—it only made his heart hurt even more.
He hesitates walking towards your back that’s facing him. He takes in a deep breath before he wraps his arms around your front. You jump in his arms and turn around with the smile that makes his day. Today—it only breaks him even further.
“Jungkook,” you turn around and hug him tightly. Finally—he was home. He doesn’t say anything as he returns your hug, kissing you on the top of the head. He glances down at his arms, pulling his jacket sleeve down, making sure his watch wasn’t going anywhere.
After all, he was desperate to hide the name that was inked on his wrist that wasn’t yours.
.
JUNGKOOK
Christmas Eve—Busan
Jungkook’s tie is too tight around his neck. He swore to his mother that it was fine but her being as stubborn as she was, made sure to secure it so that not even she could move it. He pulls at his collar and his older brother, Junghyun laughs at him.
“You look like a little kid, pulling and tugging at that you know,” Junghyun eyes Jungkook and he rolls his eyes.
“It’s suffocating hyung—I’m not drunk enough for this bullshit,” Jungkook responds with a laugh.
It was their annual Christmas Eve party held by their father’s company and it was just as stuffy and rich as Jungkook remembers. Jungkook and his brother didn’t speak much about their wealth. They had both grown up with more money, toys, clothes, shoes, and vacations that they ever needed. They never once complained as they both know how incredibly lucky they were to have already lived 5 lives before turning 30. They did however, understand how tiring this lifestyle was.
Perhaps it is why neither Jungkook or Junghyun pursued business as a major—neither one wanted to have this much to handle on their plate. Thankfully, despite most of the people that associated with the Jeon family—their mother and father were humble and respected their sons’ decisions to make their own path. If it were up to their mother though, should would have her sons closer to Busan than so far away.
“Well, the night is still young,” his brother speaks again, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne.
“There you two are,” Yeri—Junghyun’s soulmate and partner appears from what seems to be out of thin air. “Hi my love,” she smiles up at Junghyun as he pulls her closer to his hip. “Jungkook, how are you?”  
“Pretty good, my tie is too tight,” he pouts.  
Yeri observes Jungkook, “I think it looks good?” She looks back up at his brother and he nods in agreement.
“I know, he’s just a baby,”  he remarks and Jungkook rolls his eyes.  
“Anyways, your mother is looking for you two—we’re about to eat dinner,” she informs and both of the brother’s nod.  
Jungkook follows closely behind them, weaving in and out of people to get to their designated table. Jungkook only recognizes a handful of people he passes even though they know exactly who he is. They find their table, their parents already seated and ready for dinner.
Jungkook smiles when he sees his mother, bending down to hug her.
“Hello Jungkook, Junghyun,” she greets her sons, “Yeri, please sit!”
He takes a seat right of his mom, Junghyun and Yeri to his left. His father is busy speaking with a business partner at the table to pay much attention to them. Jungkook grew up used to that though—his father always overworking himself, barely getting home before they had to go to bed. Despite this, he was still a great father in Jungkook’s eyes, providing and making them laugh every chance he got.
“What’s for dinner, Mrs. Jeon?” Yeri asks. Jungkook’s mother loved Yeri the moment she set her eyes on her all those years ago and nothing has changed.
“Oh, we’re having a little bit of everything—bulgogi, samgyeopsal, jajangmyeon, kimchi. I hope it’s good, we had to get a new caterer this year,” a sudden worry falls over he face but she quickly brushes it away.
“Perfect, I’m starved,” Jungkook mumbles, once again, mindlessly tugging at his collar. Jungkook’s mom swats his hand away.
“Quit it, you’re fine,” she scolds him and he settles in his seat, picking up his newly poured glass of red wine. It was true—he was starved and if he didn’t get food in his system quickly, he would probably become tipsy from a singular glass of champagne and wine.
The food arrives at each table in an orderly fashion as everyone finally takes their seats. A few words of thanks are spoken before everyone digs in, placing various meats on the grills in front of them. Commotion and chatter quickly fill the large hall. Jungkook is busy stuffing his mouth with noodles when suddenly his name is spoken across the table.
“Jungkook,” his father addresses him. He swallows his food quickly before raising an eyebrow in response. “You remember Mr. Kim, Seokjin’s father?”
The mention of Seokjin brings a wash of memories over Jungkook’s brain. He was an older kid that him and Junghyun used to play around with growing up.
“Yes, of course,” Jungkook slightly smiles to the elder.
“I can’t believe you’re almost done with university,” Mr. Kim compliments Jungkook, “What are you majoring in again?”
“Sports medicine,” Jungkook says feeling slightly intimidated by his stare. Suddenly Mr. Kim’s eyes glance down to Jungkook’s hand and he suddenly feels self conscious about his the ink colored on his fingers. He quickly retracts his hand under the table before he speaks again.
“Well that’s really good to hear,” he smiles warmly again, “Are you planning on furthering your education past undergrad?”
“Yes sir,” he nods, “I plan to pursue a sports physician or therapist within the next few years.”
He looks over at Jungkook’s father, “I don’t think your sons could be any more opposite than you and I,” he laughs and Jungkook’s father nods with a small smile.
“As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters,” his father says. Jungkook glances at Junghyun, hoping he was paying some attention to the conversation so Jungkook could continue eating. He wasn’t.
“Yes I see,” Mr. Kim nods, “They will do good for themselves and their partners, I’m sure of it.”
The mention of the word partner gets Jungkook’s mother’s attention.
“Oh yes, Junghyun and Yeri have recently leased a house in Seoul,” she smiles proudly at her eldest. It was true—Junghyun was a practicing lawyer and Yeri was a court reporter so they were doing pretty well off even though they haven’t reached 30 yet.
“If only they could hurry up and get married,” she then adds with a laugh. Junghyun looks over and he grimaces, though no ill intent by the stare.
“Mom, we’ve told you. We’re settling our house and finances for another year or so, then we are,” he responds swiftly.
“Well, then it seems like Jungkook is due next,” Mr. Kim adds into the mix. Suddenly, Jungkook tenses up and his face falls. Oh how he wish you were here right now so he wasn’t alone in this.
“Well Jungkook does have a partner, right?” His mom looks over at him. Jungkook had mentioned you to his mom and dad but that was it—so this is news for Junghyun and Yeri who were carefully listening to his words. Jungkook was 22 after all—the clock was ticking.
“Yes mom,” he nods, “I invited her to Busan with me for the holidays but she decided to stay back home,” he explains.
“Ah, that’s too bad, we would have loved to meet her,” Mr. Kim says, “Next time though?’
Jungkook nods, a small smile present, “Next time.”
The conversation thankfully dies after that. As much as Jungkook wanted to talk about you—he was so hesitant for well, obvious reasons. His mom had the most questions about you and he answered all of them to her liking. She seemed to think their souls were bonded and wasn’t that the point he was trying to make? He wanted his mom to love you like he did and he was confident she would by the way her eyes lit up when he spoke about you.
“She seems lovely Jungkook,” she says, “And you just met her this year? After all this time?”
After all this time—yeah right. “Yeah, we had a class together.”
“Well I for one cannot wait to meet her,” she smiles taking a sip of her wine, “You should invite her again when you two graduate, you know we have to have a party to celebrate.”
Jungkook’s mouth goes dry but he nods quickly, just wanting to focus on the dessert that was being place in front of him.
“She would love that,” is all he says before he digs into his cheesecake. After a few glasses of wine, Jungkook had felt himself become a little tipsy and he knew he needed to slow down if he wanted to enjoy Christmas morning.
After he finishes his sweet treat, he excuses himself to get some water. As much as he hates these kinds of things, he wishes he had his camera to capture some memories—even though it was his first Christmas with you despite being separated by hundreds of kilometers.
He reaches the beverage table, quickly asking for a glass of water when suddenly he feels a tap on his shoulder.
“Excuse me?” A girls voice asks, “Would you mind getting me a glass of Chardonnay?”
He glances at the girl before nodding, asking for a glass to hand to her. The server hands Jungkook a wine glass and he turns around to see the girl for the first time. He’s slightly taken aback from her beauty. She’s got warm brown hair that flows down her chest, welcoming eyes, and a smile that he swears sparkled in the light.
“Thank you,” her eyes met his and he feels his chest tightening the longer he looks at her. As much as he wants to look away—he physically is unable. She seems to feel the same because he doesn’t know how much time has passed of them staring at each other before someone calls out to her.
She glances to her right, raising her glass as another thanks before walking away from Jungkook. His eyes follow her as her back turns to him. She’s wearing a simple purple dress with sleeves and heels that make her legs look long and lean.
He shakes his head out of his trance-like state, what the fuck? He takes another gulp of his water—it has to be alcohol getting to him. He’s about to head back to his parent’s table when he suddenly feels an itching on the inside of his left wrist. He scratches his skin harshly and he winces when it’s more painful than a normal scratch.
He glances down at his sleeve, pulling the material back to see what was so painful. He does a double take when he moves his watch, noticing harsh red lines forming on skin. The fuck, he thinks to himself. Jungkook makes the decision to excuse himself to the men’s room to cool the burning off with some water.
Thankfully he’s the only person occupying the room and he quickly turns on the water, running his skin underneath it. The burning subsides after a few moments and as he’s reaching for a towel to dry himself, he drops it to the floor before he can even use it.
While the red marks have gone away, a thin black line has replaced them.
Rose.
He blinks heavily, shaking his head. Is he really that drunk? He takes his nail to scratch at the black and when it doesn’t move, his mouth parts and the tie around his neck feels even more constricting.
“No,” he whispers to himself.
Rose.
It’s still there.
“No, no, no,” he mumbles, “Fuck,” his breathing picks up heavily and he looks at himself in the mirror. His face is pale and his eyes are blown out. Fuck.
Rose.
He moves his watch back over the marking and runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the ends harder than he should. He almost feels tears threatening to fall when he realizes what’s happening. This has to be a sick joke? The universe cannot be doing this—not right now—not after all this fucking time?
As much as his mind is racing, drunk and confusion do not make a good combination, he sees one thing for sure in the back of his brain. You. As this thought, his stomach churns deeply and before he realizes it—he’s spitting up some of his food and alcohol into the toilet.
“Fuck,” he says again wiping the perspiration away from his clammy hands onto his pants. He takes in a deep breath, freshening himself up before he leaves the bathroom with the mission to find one person and one person only.
Once he comes back into the main room, his eyes glance around quickly for a head of silky brown hair and a purple dress. His head looks around rapidly and anyone who saw him probably thought that he looked crazy. He spots Junghyun and Yeri getting another drink at the bar and he swiftly walks over towards them.
“Hyung,” Jungkook speaks quickly, shaking his brother’s shoulder.
“Huh? Jungkook, you okay?” His brother notices how ill Jungkook looks. Face pale, hair messily pushed around, uneasiness in his large eyes.
“Have you seen a girl,” he pauses trying to slow down, “Purple dress, kind of ashy brown hair to here,” he demonstrates the length with his hands. Junghyun looks at Jungkook like he’s crazy. Hell, maybe Jungkook is going crazy.
Junghyun shakes his head, “No I haven’t. What’s up?”
“I may have seen a purple dress going that way,” Yeri points her finger towards the other side of the large room. “Jungkook are you sure you’re okay?”
He doesn’t even give them one more glance before he thanks Yeri quickly, turning on his heels to head that direction. He nearly trips on his feet trying to get across the masses of people congregating. The ballroom has a couple hallways that lead off into other rooms and he decides his luck, checking in and out of the rooms. He’s coming up empty until he stops dead in his tracks, a back clad in purple facing him, talking to another man with blonde hair.
Suddenly, the blonde looks at Jungkook from over her shoulder and she follows. Her eyes meet Jungkook’s and he fills his breath hitching, his stomaching rolling once again.
“Hello?” The blonde asks curiously.
“Hi,” Jungkook steps forward. His hands are buried deep in his dress pants so they can’t see the way they shake with every breath.
“Yoongi, will you get me another drink please?” The girl speaks looking back at the man. He nods, settling not to say anything else as he brushes past Jungkook.
The girl stands awkwardly, her finger rimming an empty wine glass slowly. Jungkook can barely look at her but something is compelling him to. He can’t take his eyes off of her—she’s beautiful. He slowly walks towards her with some hesitation. She finally meets his eyes again and she visibly breathes in deep through her nose, her chest rising.
“Hi,” Jungkook says again.
“Hi,” she says with a low tone. She bites her lip nervously and she suddenly looks around the room—anywhere but him. “This place is really beautiful isn’t it?”
Jungkook follows her lead, eyes glancing around the room too, “Yeah, it is.”
“Your parents know how to put on a party,” she muses with a small laugh. Goddamn, he thinks, she is so beautiful. So, she knows exactly who he is.
“This is nothing compared to some other years,” he gently smiles when her lips turn up, her cheeks getting bigger with her own smile.
A silence falls between the two of them. She sways in her heels trying to relieve the pain in the balls of her feet.
“It’s you isn’t it,” Jungkook speaks first. She looks up at him, still saying silent. “You’re Rose?”
She dips her head, some of her hair falling in her face. She nods slowly, “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers and she almost sounds sad, perhaps broken? “After all this time,” she adds.
She looks at Jungkook like he’s her whole universe. Oh how he wishes he could say the same thing about her—it’s what this beautiful girl deserves. She deserves someone whose heart beats for them and them only. That wasn’t Jungkook—he had you and god how much he wanted to spend his life with you only.
“When did you find out?” He asks keeping his voice low and steady so his nervousness won’t show through.
“When I was fourteen,” she says. His heart sinks even further for this girl. His name had been engraved upon her skin for 8 years.
He doesn’t say anything else, opting to look down at his feet. The tension is there—the tension the universe gives soul bonded people. He feels his tie suffocating him again and he reaches up to loosen it again, to no relief though.
Suddenly, Rose steps forward, grabbing Jungkook’s hand to move it away from his collar.
“Let me help,” she says and he swears his heart stops beating when her delicate fingers touch his. Rose manages to undo his impossibly tight neck tie from his mother, retying it just as fast, but a lot more comfortable for him and his neck. Suddenly, Jungkook is glad you were unable to come to Busan with him.
“Thanks,” he laughs, “It’s been suffocating me all night.”
“I could tell,” she returns a chuckle, her palms resting on his chest. She’s just as nervous as he is—he can see the way she breathes unevenly being this close to her.
“I’m Jungkook,” he says.
“Rose.”  
.
“Did you have a good Christmas?” You ask Jungkook as you step into his apartment. If possible, Jungkook came back with thrice as much stuff as he left with and you wanted to help him unpack.  
“Pretty good,” he says simply, “I think my parents were disappointed you weren’t there,” he chuckles lightly. Jungkook’s roommates were still back home, not coming back until the new year, so you were going to stay with him to keep him company.
“Well, one day I’ll meet them,” your eyes search for his and he seems somewhat off. He hasn’t said much since you’ve picked him up from the train station. His eyes have looked a little lost, unsure of where to look.
“Yeah,” he shrugs off his coat and begins to unzip one of his 3 suitcases. You unzip a second, noticing how different his clothes smell.
“I see your mom did your laundry?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Of course, what kind of son would I be if I didn’t bring all my laundry for my mom to do?”
Small conversation is said between the two of you as you unpack, fold, and hang up his clothes. You can’t help but notice the luxury men’s wear tags in the pants and shirts you hang up.
“What do your parents do Jungkook?” Your thumb brushes over the thick material of a new coat he received as a gift.
He’s hesitant to speak but he decides to tell you anyways, “My dad is president of a large company back in Busan. You know my mom is an artist,” he says and you recall the days he’s spoke highly of his creative mother.
Ah, you think, now you understand where the wealth comes from.
“I don’t like telling people because I don’t want people to think I’m some spoiled snob,” he laughs at the thought.
“Babe, you’re the farthest thing from that. You know work hard for things you want, what does it matter what anyone else thinks,” you hang the last piece of clothing from his suitcase up and he watches you intently.
He leans against his desk, arms crossed as he watches you carefully.
“Wanna see something I got,” he says clearing his throat as you look him in the eyes. His eyes quickly look away from yours, unable to face you fully just yet. You nod when you notice his eyes light up as he rummages through his duffle bag to pull out a new camera.
“Holy shit,” you admire the piece of technology as he holds it carefully in his hands. “Who got you this?”
“My brother if you could believe it,” he sounds like he doesn’t even believe his brother was capable of gifting him such a nice present.
“Damn,” you mutter, “Have you used it yet?”
He nods, “I played around with it at the beach before I left,” he says looking at your subtle smile. “Here, lemme take a picture of you,” he smiles a little wider.
“What? Jungkook I look disgusting,” you step away from him. Your hair is thrown up on your head, no makeup, and an oversized ratted turtleneck covers your frame.
“Baby come on you’re beautiful,” he pouts while adjusting the lens and other settings. “Please I wanna remember this.”
You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Remember what? The remnants of my illness that’s made me look crusty for days now?”
He laughs at you, “Sure, whatever you wanna call it,” he holds up his camera to see the lighting on you. “Sit down and scoot back,” he commands to you. You do as he says, sitting on his bed and scooting so your back is hilt against the wall.
“Here?”
He nods, “Mhm,” he focuses on adjusting the last of what he needs to before he says, “Smile babe, you’re on camera.”
You give him a glare before your features soften, giving him a small smile as you look directly into the lens. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s through the lens and he feels his chest tighten. He hated this—he was so in love with you he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. You were his present and future—he didn’t want anyone else. How could the universe break him like this?
He snaps a couple photos before looking at them in the small frame. A small smile lets loose on his lips as his heart palpitates for you. He feels your eyes watching him closely and you’re unsure why—despite his smile—he seems so sad and so unsure.
Whatever is bothering him, you could only hope that he would open up to you soon and not suppress his feelings.
Jungkook’s only hope right now is cherishing these moments with you because as he has come to learn in the past few days—nothing good ever lasts.
.
Your phone was buzzing and buzzing annoying you to your core as you tried your best to shove your dangly earrings in your ears. You look down at the caller ID and you roll your eyes with a groan.
“Fuck Taehyung we’re coming!” You half yell at your phone that was still buzzing on your desk. Hearing ruckus in your room, Jungkook peeps in.
“You good babe?” He asks taking notice of how your room is practically flipped upside down. Clothes and jewelry are sprung around and the dress you have decided to wear isn’t even zipped yet, your lower back fully exposed to him.
“Yes,” you say finally slipping the plastic backs on your earrings. You look over your shoulder at Jungkook, heat rushing to your face when you realize how good he looks tonight. “Will you zip me up?”
He nods taking a step towards you, his fingertips cold against your skin. He slowly zips the beaded material up your back slowly not wanting to catch any strings. When he’s done, he wraps his arms around your front pulling you close to him.
“You look beautiful,” he smiles into your neck and you keen into his arms, your feet already blistering in your heels.
“You look sexy,” you muse with a giggle. He turns your body around to flush against his front and he quickly leans down to capture your lips. He’s slow and gentle, wanting you to know how much he cherishes you. He’s careful not to put a hand in your hair knowing how frustrated you were trying to fix it right, so he cradles your neck in one of his hands as you lean into him deeper.
You jump slightly in his arms when your phone starts buzzing again. Jungkook steps away from you and you groan loudly again.
“Remind me to kill him when we get in the car,” you punctuate as you grab your bag and the baby blue coat Taehyung gave you.
“Will do,” Jungkook gives you a wink before grasping your hand into his tightly.
New Years Eve was always a fun time in your friend group, especially at your age. Ever since you started university, you and Taehyung had made it tradition to go to one of the fancier bars in your area for the special occasion. Only having to pay an upfront free—it meant an open bar, free music, and a damn good time.
“Goddamn Y/N,” Taehyung says as you’re waiting in line to get in the bar.
“What? Is there something on my face? My teeth?” You panic looking at your best friend.
“No,” he pauses looking at your date up and down, “You really lucked out didn’t you.”
Jungkook suddenly laughs as his comment and you swat Taehyung’s head.
“Hey back off buddy,” you say wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s torso, “He’s mine asshole.”
“And you’re mine,” Jimin eyes Taehyung playfully. Taehyung had already drank half a bottle of champagne in the car ride from your apartment so he was definitely feeling frisky. It was absolutely freezing outside tonight and Jungkook made sure to keep his arms around you as you waited and waited outside.
“What’s going to be your drink of choice tonight Kook?” You look up at your boyfriend who looks so unbelievable handsome you could cry.
“Hmm, I’m thinking whatever will get me very drunk. Perhaps whiskey?”
Your face contorts at the mention of the dark liquor. Too many bad memories with that one.
“Lemme guess,” Jimin says, “You’re going to down about five green tea shots and then switch over to vodka soda with a splash of cranberry juice.”
Your eyes widen, slightly perturbed, “Am I that basic of a bitch?”
Jimin nods once, “Babe I’m a bartender, we can see girls like you coming from a mile away.”
“Ugh, fine you got me. But maybe instead of vodka soda I’ll just do a flat.” Truth is, you hadn’t drank since your sick spell over Christmas and you were more than ready to get drunk.
A few more minutes and you’re in the crowded bar. You stay close to Jungkook, his hand secured around yours as you make your way to the bar. As expected, you order green tea shots and Jungkook lives up to his previous statement—ordering a whiskey sour to start his night.
You’ve never seen this many people here before. It’s loud, hot, and crowded but it’s everything you could want for New Years Eve. Besides, what’s the fun in going out if it’s not going to be a little chaotic?
After a few drinks, Jungkook finds himself relaxing as he dances close to you. He’s happy right here and right now, but he can’t fully let go—his mind occupied of another woman. He hates himself for doing this, but what is he supposed to do? He’s careful around his arms, making sure his watch stays put and he sleeve doesn’t venture too far up just in case.
Your smile is wide and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Sure, it was scary now that you were starting your last semester of college in a week but since you had Jungkook—you felt more secure in whatever life decides to throw at you than ever.
“I love you,” you say to Jungkook. It’s simple but you could tell him every minute of everyday and not get tired of it.  
“I love you more,” he says. He’s honest and he only hopes you can’t see the deep sadness in his eyes. He kisses the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up at the feeling. “Do you want another drink?” He asks.
You nod, “Yes please.”
“Vodka cran?”  
You nod once again, “I’ll be with Taehyung over there.”
Jungkook leaves you behind, walking back towards the bar. If he really was going to try to forget his worries—he was going to need something stronger.
“Two shots of whiskey please,” he says. He’ll get your drink when he’s finished so the ice won’t water it down.
“I didn’t take you for a whiskey guy,” a voice comes from his left and when he looks, he feels his whole world stopping.
“R-Rose?” He blinks, making sure he’s seeing correctly.
“I thought it was you over here,” she smiles asking the bartender for a shot of tequila. “How are you?”
He’s speechless. How? Right now?
“Doing well, how are you?” He asks trying to seem sly. God he could only hope that no one he knew, especially you, saw him right now.
“Same, I’m mentally preparing for my hangover tomorrow,” she laughs before downing her shot quickly.
He smiles, “I feel that,” he downs his first shot. It’s hot and it’s burning his throat. “Listen I’ve been meaning to text you but—“
“Don’t worry about it,” she waves her hand, “I mean what are the odds of us being here together? That’s worth more than a text right?”
He swallows, “Y-you’re right. I didn’t know you lived here.”
She nods, her gaze heavy and somewhat obscene, “I go to the all girls university in the area.”
“Ah, I see,” Jungkook says glancing around. Thankfully the copious amount of people have shielded him from anyone’s view.
“Are you here anyone tonight?” Fuck.
“Just some friends,” he says smoothly. “You?”
“Same. My roommates made me come, but now I’m glad I did,” she smiles brightly and Jungkook can himself falling deep into the hole again. Fuck the fucking universe.
“Me too,” he says before he can catch himself. Her eyes glance down to his lips before she looks back up at him.
“Well, I need to get back to my friends before we get fully separated,” she smiles again, “Come say hi if you see me again,” she winks.
He nods, his eyes wide and mouth dry. “Will do.”
He downs the second shot as she walks away, his eyes unable to rip from her frame. Jungkook was in deep shit—no doubting that. There was only so much longer he could keep up this facade. He was heartbroken to the core and as much as he wanted to be selfish and forget about the name attached to his wrist—that wasn’t plausible. It was a reality he had to face sooner or later.
“Fuck,” he says, ordering your drink before he forgets and another shot of whiskey for the hell of it. There was no getting Rose off his mind now but he could at least try. He knew one thing though—once the clock struck midnight, he was ripping you out of this bar faster than a racehorse.
“Oh my god thank you,” you drunkenly smile up at Jungkook when he comes back with your drink. In your intoxicated state, you don’t notice Jungkook’s demeanor change as much as other people do. Specifically Jimin, who is standing off from your side, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Jungkook looks nervous, tense, and unsure about his surroundings. Jimin was curious about what happened to him in the last five minutes of him being gone.
“Oh shit you guys, it’s almost midnight!” Taehyung yells throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder.
“What are you gonna wish for?” You gaze up at Jungkook as he throws an arm around your frame protectively.
“Is that a thing babe?” He questions, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Of course it is!” You say, your expression wide and full of disbelief. “I mean I always do it.”
Jungkook leans down and pecks your forehead, his vision fuzzier now that the 3 shots of whiskey have been through his system, “Well I’ll make a wish then, just for you.”
“You better,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him. The clock hits 11:59 PM and the countdown to the new year begins.
Jungkook’s grip tightens around you, afraid that if he lets go you’ll find out his deepest secret and run away from him forever. You lean your head on his chest, unknowing of anything that’s bothering him deep down. You inhale his scent, his laundry and cologne intoxicating you even further.
Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one!
You look up at Jungkook with another beautiful smile and he leans down to close the short gap between you two. The cheers around you drown out as you focus on each other. One of your hands pulls him down from the back of his hair closer to you, smiling into the kiss.
You wish for nothing to change—you were happy and had your partner—that’s all you could ever wish for.
Jungkook wishes for things to change—to go back to normal—but he was afriad that there wasn’t going to be a normal for you two ever again.
Jungkook makes love to you that night like you have never experienced. Every kiss, every touch, every breath is so slow and calculated. He thrusts deep and hard into you, hitting your cervix with each snap of his hips. You both are drunk but if anything that makes it all the better. You two are fully relaxed in each other’s arms and it was just you and him in that moment. He makes you come two, three, and by the fourth time you can’t breathe. His hands grip your waist and under your ass pushing himself possibly deeper into you.
You hold his face close to yours as he drowns out your half screams and moans with his lips. When he finally comes after holding back to relish each second of his cock being inside of you, it’s the most glorious orgasm he’s ever had.
“Fuck—“ you cut him off with your lips as he stills inside of you. “I love you,” he breathes out heavily, collapsing on his elbows.
“I love you,” you whisper back.
He kisses your collarbone and around your neck, trying to hold back his tears threatening to fall.
“I love you more,” is the last thing he says that night before you two drift off into sleep. He means every word.
.
University starts back up a couple weeks after New Years. Your final round of classes were starting off great—most of them being bullshit electives. You were going to enjoy your last semester here and you refused to waste yourself away in school work before hitting the “real world.” You didn’t have any classes with Jungkook or Namjoon this semester which was somewhat of a bummer but you would survive.
Jungkook wasn’t doing good to say the least. He was stressed more and more each day. He barely had a good nights sleep in weeks—waking up every few hours thinking about two very different girls in his life. He had begun to converse with Rose over text message so he didn’t seem like a grade-A asshole. Every time he sent or received a text back, his stomach churned and his heart yearned. He couldn’t help himself—this is how the universe works. It was the hardest thing for him to keep a secret like this from you. He hated lying to you and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it.
He turned to his photography more than ever in the past few weeks. His hobby slowly becoming his life to distract him from his actual problems. It’s how he found himself early out in the morning, before 7 AM to be exact, shooting the sunrise from a river about ten minutes from his apartment. He was playing with his new toy and lenses that Junghyun had gifted him, loving the camera the more shots he snapped. He didn’t have class until noon and he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time.
It was quiet and peaceful. He loved the countryside and this spot reminded him of back home. It was freezing to say the least and he quickly threw on his gloves before he went through his recent captures.
“Jungkook?” His name leaves a female and his chest twists—recognizing who it is immediately. He looks away from his camera, Rose approaching him from his right. She’s wearing leggings and a thick jacket with running shoes.
“H-hey,” he drops his camera some, “What are you doing up this early?” He asks as she stops in front of him.
“I could ask the same to you,” she smiles breathing heavily. She looks down at his camera before looking back up at his face, “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go on a run to clear my head.”
He nods slowly, “The best way to clear your head indeed,” he muses. “Same though, to answer your question. Couldn’t sleep and I figured I would come takes some pictures.”
She hesitates before asking her next question, “Can I see?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately, looking down at his camera nervously.
“O-only if you want to though,” she adds picking up on his secluded frame.
His eyes soften and his shoulders drop, “No, it’s fine, here.” He clicks around the buttons to bring up the most recent pictures of the sunrise, the river, and it’s reflection.
“Wow,” Rose whispers, smoke following her words as they hit the cold air as he clicks through each one, “These are great Jungkook.”
He smiles shyly, glancing down her frame, “Thanks.” She’s shorter than you are, her head barely hitting his shoulder.
“Have you been taking pictures for long?” She looks up at him when he’s done showing the pictures.
“A few years now,” he says, “It’s my favorite thing to do with my free time.”
“Well from what I can see you’re really talented,” she smiles, “You should do it professionally.”
He blushes, “A man can only wish,” he laughs, fog coming from his lips too.
A silence falls between the two of them. Jungkook isn’t sure what to do and Rose looks around the area, only a handful of people in the surrounding vicinity.
“Hey I was about to go to this café down the street, wanna come with?” She asks. Jungkook is taken aback by her offer. He notices a sadness behind her eyes and he bites the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly.
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
The café is small and quiet. It smells of espresso and pastries. Jungkook orders himself a coffee with cream and sugar while Rose decides to get some type of iced drink.
“It’s below freezing and you’re drinking iced coffee?” He quirks a brow at her as they sit down beside the main window.
She shrugs, “I love iced coffee more than I love myself.”
He smiles, sipping on his hot coffee slowly not wanting to burn his tongue. Another silence falls between them and Jungkook takes this time to study her more. She’s petite and gorgeous. She’s the type of girl he grew up crushing over. In the few conversations they’ve had,  he knows they are very much alike. Each day talking to her and seeing her pop up in random places in his life proved to him this wasn’t a fluke. Rose was his soulmate and Jungkook was hers. That’s the fucking reality and it fucking sucks for him. He could see himself falling for Rose quicker than anyone else before—that’s what is supposed to happen anyways. But he had you—he didn’t want anyone else. You were his end all be all, not Rose.
“Jungkook,” she speaks lowly, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Are you seeing someone right now?”
Her question makes his heart rate speed up.
“W-what?” His mouth is dry despite the coffee, “H-how—?”
“One of my friends on New Years saw you leave with a girl,” her voice breaks off. Shit.
“I,” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “It’s complicated.”
Complicated?! He was in a committed relationship that was approaching 6 months!
“I’d rather you tell me the truth than lie Jungkook,” she says. “We’re soulmates, we’re supposed to open up to each other.”
He furrows his eyebrows deeply, “It’s not that easy Rose. I just met you almost month ago.”
His words cut her deep but she stands her ground.
“I get that but,” she pauses, “I just don’t want you and whoever you’re seeing to be hurt. I’m sure you knows what happens when—“
“Yes. I know,” he says. He’s already seen it—you’ve already experienced it. The constant up and down sickness from you was just one side effect of a bonded soul that stays with one who isn’t bonded to them.
“Do you love her?” She asks.
“With everything in me,” he answers honestly. She looks away from her soulmate, unsure of how to feel. She had been waiting for him for 8 years. She was expecting her happy ever after. The last thing she thought would happen is that her soulmate would be in love with someone else. Processing this information was going to difficult for her and she couldn’t begin to imagine what Jungkook was going through right now.
“Have you told her?”
He shakes his head slowly, “No.”
She purses her lips, squeezing her cup a little too hard, “I’m not telling you how to go about this Jungkook, but if you really loved her, why are you continuing to hurt her?”  
.
“Taehyung we have to talk right now,” Jimin says into his phone.
“Baby it’s not even 8 AM,” Taehyung’s morning voice is deeper than his actual voice.
“No—like Taehyung it’s urgent.”
Taehyung is beginning to worry what could possibly be going on.
“Is everything okay?” He asks sitting up in his bed, pushing the hair from his face.
“No,” he says, “Not at all.”
Jimin hangs up the phone and makes his way to Taehyung’s apartment. He half jogs, unable to keep up with his feet. Jimin’s mind is racing as he begins to piece his suspicions together.
“Good morning,” Jimin enters the apartment, a shiver going down his back as he steps into the significantly warmer apartment. Jimin glances around the apartment, his eyes frantic. “Y/N isn’t here, is she?”
Taehyung watches his boyfriend with tired eyes like a hawk. “No, why would she be here?”
Jimin nods quickly, “When did she first get sick?”
“Whoa, Jimin what’s going on?” Taehyung holds his hands up, his brain still not fully functioning.
“Just answer the damn question.”
“Uh, Christmas morning, early in the morning.”
“And has she been sick since then?”
Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, “Um, she mentioned being sick the day after New Years. Jimin this is stupid, she was hungover both days—“
“Do you know who this girl is?” Jimin pulls out his phone, pulling up a picture of Jungkook and a girl neither of them knew sitting at a small cafe across from each other.
“Where did you get this?” Taehyung asks taking his phone to zoom in on the pic.
“This morning,” he says, “I went to the gym and saw those two together.”
“What does this mean? Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?!” Taehyung feels himself begin to get angry, handing the phone back to Jimin.
“Well according to Hoseok, the bartender from New Years I sometimes see around asked who the girl Jungkook was cuddled up to at the bar on New Years… and it wasn’t Y/N.”
Taehyung’s face clenches, “W-what? I don’t understand what you’re getting at Jimin. Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?” He asks again.
“Taehyung, don’t you get it?” Jimin asks running a hand through his hair, “I study this stuff for fucksakes! This,” he holds up his phone of the picture again, “She’s Jungkook’s soulmate, Tae.”
His mouth parts open, “H-how are you so sure?”
“I don’t know the full story but I’m guessing a name came up on Jungkook over Christmas and destiny brought them together after being apart for so long…”
“A name? Jimin, Jungkook is 22 like Y/N… they don’t—“
“Late bloomers—it’s rare, but it happens Taehyung.”
“Fuck,” Taehyung breathes out, fully awake now, “So Jungkook has a soulmate and hasn’t told Y/N I’m assuming.”
Jimin nods, “I’m sure of it. She needs to know Taehyung—it’ll only get worse for her the longer Jungkook stays with her,” his voice trails off. Jimin cared for you as much as anyone close to you and he knew the consequences of tangoing with someone else who was soul bonded.
“I’m gonna kill Jungkook,” Taehyung grips his hair harshly, “When should we tell her?”
Jimin hesitates but speaking after thinking about what could happen to you the more Jungkook hides his secret, “The sooner the better.”
.
“Babe I don’t know how to do this,” you whine as you stares at a knife and a half open salmon. Jungkook laughs at your attempt to filet the fish for your dinner together.
“It’s not that hard Y/N,” he says pointedly, coming to aid your aid. In one motion, Jungkook manages to remove the skin from the fish.
You roll your eyes at him, “Why are you so fucking good at everything?”
“I’m just that talented,” he gives you a side eye before throwing the fish into the marinade. “Are you sure you want to salmon by the way? I know you’re still not feeling the best.”
“Jungkook it’s fine—I’m not going to get sick from this,” you hoped at least, “Plus you love it and I wanted to do something special for our anniversary.”
It was true—today marked your sixth months with Jungkook. January was brutally cold and quickly passed. Now the beginning of February wasn’t any warmer, but it did mark that spring was coming soon.
You couldn’t believe you had been with Jungkook for sixth months. Six months had come and gone like that. It was odd being in a committed relationship for this long when two people weren’t soulmates—but frankly, you were sure Jungkook was your soulmate so it didn’t really matter anyways.
As Jungkook watched you whip up some rice and veggies to go on the side, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guiltier than fuck. It had just been over a month since he meet Rose and to put it shortly—the universe was fucking trying it. No matter where he went, she always seemed to be there. They texted at least a few times everyday, obviously keeping it to himself. Rose was being patient, as she was trying her best to understand Jungkook’s situation, though he had a gut feeling she didn’t want to wait around much longer for him. Time was running out for Jungkook and it was running out faster than he ever wished it do be.  
You and Jungkook finish and eat dinner together on the couch. Sure he had a small dining room table but it was tradition for the two of you to cuddle up on the couch together for your meals. Plus, his roommates weren’t home so you may as well make yourself comfy.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask Jungkook when he goes silent for a few moments. As much as you loved Jungkook, you knew something had been bothering him for weeks that he hadn’t opened up to you about. If it was something he really wanted to open up with you about, he would have already and you felt it wasn’t your place to prod. When he was ready, he would be ready you suppose.
“Hm?” his doe eyes look into yours before glancing away, “Nothing much… I just can’t believe we’re graduating in three months,” he laughs shaking his head in disbelief.
You agreed with him, “Crazy right… are you scared?”
He looks down at your legs that are draped across his, “Yeah, I am.”
A look falls on his face that you can’t read. He’s blank on the outside but you’re sure deep down whatever he’s thinking about is torturing him.
“Jungkook,” you nudge him, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asks with a grimace.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just feel like something has been bothering you.”
He bows his head and you’re sure he’s about to be fully honest with you until he says, “I’m just stressed babe.”
You narrow your eyes at him. Stressed you can believe—but what? School? Family? Us?
“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you Jungkook,” you say. You can visibly see his jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth.
“If I wanted you to know don’t you think I would fucking tell you Y/N?” he snaps and it makes you jump in your position, “Don’t be so goddamn nosy if it’s none of your business.”
Jungkook stands up from the couch and your mouth parts at his words. Not only are you taken aback, but you can’t believe Jungkook actually spoke to you like that.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” you stand up and make your way towards him. He’s lean against the counter, his head down. “Jungkook, hey, what the fuck?” you ask him, beginning to get more and more frustrated as each second passes.
He lifts his head to look at you, a pained expression on his features, “Look I’m sorry—“
He’s cut off by heavy knocks on your door. Neither of were expecting anyone and if it was his roommates, they would have just used their keys. Your eyes follow Jungkook when he goes and opens the door. What happens next goes by so fast you weren’t even sure it happened until Jungkook is stumbling backwards, a groan emitting from his lips.
“Taehyung?!” you nearly scream rushing over to Jungkook, “What the fuck?! What are you doing?!” Taehyung walks into the apartment with Jimin close behind him.
“Ow, fuck man,” Jungkook holds his cheek in pain. Taehyung didn’t look like he had much power but he just proved himself wrong.
“Have you told her yet,” Taehyung speaks, looking straight at Jungkook, “Or are you still lying to her?”
You look between the two of them, your mind racing and confused.
“Told me what? Taehyung what the fuck are you doing, are you crazy?!” you yell at him again.
Jungkook and Taehyung continue to glare at each other. Jungkook notices Jimin staring too and he knows—it’s over.
“Not right now Taehyung,” Jungkook says angrily. You whip your head over Jungkook again. What’s going on?!
“Told me what?” you ask looking back over at Taehyung and then Jungkook again, “Told me what Jungkook?!” you raise your voice at him.
“Y/N,” Jungkook says, his eyes full of a wave of sadness. Your heart begins to race, your hands clammy and you feel like you might get sick again.
“What’s going on Jungkook?” you feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You know something isn’t right, otherwise this would not be happening right now.
“I was gonna tell you,” Jungkook’s voice breaks off as he comes closer to you, taking your hands in his, “I just didn’t know how.”
You feel a tear come down your face, “Baby what’s happening?”
“Hurry the fuck up,” Taehyung spits, “We don’t have all night.”
“Taehyung,” Jimin scolds him from behind.
Jungkook doesn’t break his gaze with you as he lets go of your hands. He pulls the sleeve of his left sweatshirt, moving his silver watch back in the process. When your eyes fall onto it—the name—it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest. Your breathing picks up and you look back into Jungkook’s eyes.
You shake your head, “No, no, no,” you mumble, “This is a joke right? This has to be a fucking joke,” the tears are now falling in rhythmic streams down your face.
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook says, tears now welling his eyes eyes, “Y/N I love you so much—“
“How long have you known?” you step away from him, feeling light headed and queazy. He doesn’t answer until you press again. “How long have you fucking known Jungkook?!”
“Over a month,” his voice drops and you don’t ever think you’ve felt the sharp pains shooting in your chest until now.
“Y/N,” Jimin speaks this time, “I think you should come with us.”
“You’ve been lying to me all this time?” you ignore Jimin, your voice cracking on the edges.
“Y/N, no baby please,” he steps towards you, his hands finding your face, “I-I didn’t know what to d-do. I l-love you and you only you, nothing will ever change that,” Jungkook pleads. You shake your head, pushing him away from you.
“It changes everything Jungkook!” you yell at him, furiously wiping the tears from your face, “You’ve known about your soulmate for a goddamn month and you thought you could hide that from me?! Are you kidding me Jungkook?!”
Jungkook pulls at the roots of his hair, glancing over to Taehyung and Jimin, “I’m sorry Y/N,” he repeats, “W-we can do something about this, there has to be—“
“No,” you spit, “No, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore Jungkook,” you pause, glancing down at your hands, “There’s no way around this and you lied to me.”
“Y/N, please,” Jungkook’s heart breaks all over again as he watches you gather your things, shoving your feet into your shoes.
“Take this,” you rip the ring that suddenly didn’t mean anything to you anymore off your finger, shoving it into Jungkook’s palm. He stares at the jewelry, his eyes watery and blurry.
“Come on,” Taehyung says holding out his arm for you. With one last glance at Jungkook, you turn on your feet and walk out of his apartment. Jimin shuts the door behind of you two and you don’t even make it to their car when you break down into a full sob, Taehyung wrapping his arms around you protectively. You didn’t just walk out of Jungkook’s apartment—you’ve walked out of his life too.
SPRING
Spring was always your favorite season. The blossoming of trees and flowers always seemed to cheer up your mood. More sunlight meant more happiness and less seasonal depression. The warming weather was always a nice touch after cruel and harsh winters. This year though, you thought no one could hate Spring as much as you did.
Everyday was new challenge for you. When you and Jungkook first broke up—your feelings were indescribable. The mental and physical chest pains you experienced from your heartbreak were sure the worst you could ever have. You were a broken soul—a soul not meant for someone who you loved more than life itself sometimes.  
It was hard doing simple things—getting out of bed, doing your laundry, going to class, eating meals—it was all such a burden to you. You cried and cried and cried until you had no more tears left. Sleep was even worse as it meant your unconscious state always drifted into thoughts of Jungkook. There was the time frame where Jungkook called you, left messages and voicemails, tried to contact you through Taehyung and others—but it was all the more painful. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to rid any trace of him from your phone, afraid that you might forget what he looked or sounded like.
No one had ever seen you in such a broken state. You thought you’re mind couldn’t drift into worse territory until one night, you thought about Jungkook and his soulmate—whoever she was. You thought about him loving her, making love to her, taking pictures of her, marrying her, having kids with her, looking at her the way he looked at you—it completely shattered you even more. You don’t remember how much you drank that night. One shot of vodka? Two? Seven? Glasses of wine? It didn’t matter you just needed to forget.
It was when Taehyung found you that night passed out over your toilet, is when he recommended seeing someone. At first, your idea of going to a therapist over a failed relationship seemed silly. But Taehyung made sure that you and Jungkook were more than a college fling—it was real and it was going to take a lot of time to get over.
Your therapist was a nice woman, upper forties maybe, slim face and blonde hair. Your first couple sessions with her didn’t go as smooth as you wished for. She asked you hard questions that you weren’t willing to answer. The third session you went to, you broke down in front of a stranger becoming the most vulnerable you’d ever been.
She knew you loved Jungkook and he loved you just as deeply too. She explained soul-bonding more in depth to you that day. The universe has a reason why it pairs two souls together and why some people are left bare. It’s a phenomenon that’s barely studied but she suspects it’s more common than people want to believe. There’s also a process called soul-breaking, that is rare too but the consequences can bare far greater risks so majority of the people stay away from it.
Overall, you grew up your whole life thinking something was wrong with you. You thought you were a glitch because you didn’t receive a name on your body at 18. But if anything, meeting with your therapist made you realize that nothing was wrong with you. You live a healthy life, have a family, have friends, and you fell in love with someone—and all that is okay.
“I do believe if two people are meant to be together, they will be, someway or somehow,” she said to you one day.
Nearly two months after your break up and one month left until graduation—it was still hard. You had been prescribed antidepressants for a few weeks now and while it did numb your pain for the most part, there were times when thinking about Jungkook just made you want to curl into a ball and forget about your tasks for that day. You told yourself you needed to stop doing that though—you had to be strong otherwise you couldn’t move forward.
“Here you go,” Taehyung plops down a cup of steaming coffee and a bagel in front of you. Your stomach growls at the site.
“Thank you,” you give him a smile, “I’m starved.”
“I bet, you’ve been writing that paper for fucking hours,” he says digging into his own bagel with salmon and cream cheese. You should mention you hated salmon too now.
Taehyung was the greatest friend anyone could have, that you were sure of. Everyday, he called or texted to check in on you. He brought you food to make sure you were eating. Him and Jimin would invite you to the movies or restaurants with them. You refrained from going out to bars with them, too afraid you might run into the wrong people. Nonetheless, without Taehyung by your side, you were sure these past two months would have been much more difficult.
“I got my cap and gown in the mail,” he sings songs scrolling through his phone.
“Jesus Christ Tae, can you believe we’re graduating college?”
He laughs, “I said the same thing when we graduated high school,” he glances at you, “Look at us now bitches!” he holds his arms out dramatically.
You laugh at him, chewing on your food slowly. If there was one positive about being alone the past two months, it meant your illness had gone away completely. Your therapist explained how illnesses of different forms can plague people who play a role in betraying a soul-bonded person. Though you already knew that from your project last semester.
“Did you ever hear back from that company?” Taehyung asks you as you mule over in small conversation.
“Uh yeah,” you smile shyly, playing with the ends of your hair.
“Welllll?”
“I got an offer, if I want it,” your smile widens even more. Taehyung’s mouth drops open before it melts into his signature boxy smile.
“Wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N that’s amazing!”
“Thanks,” you look away from him, heating rushing to your cheeks. It was an exciting opportunity and you felt this was the path for you.
“But wait hold on,” he pauses, “Does this mean… you’re moving? To New York City?”
There’s the bombshell you haven’t dropped on many people yet. New York City. It was always a dream of yours to possibly live there one day. And now with nothing holding you back here, when you applied for the company and they asked a preferred location—you said fuck it.
“Yeah, later in the summer,” your voice is low. Taehyung’s shoulders drop, his happy mood diminishing ever so slightly.
“New York…” he ticks, “Well I’ve always wanted to go there so I’ll have to visit once or five times a year.”
You nod giving him a short wink, focusing on the rest of you coffee and food. Slowly but surely, you were getting better. You knew that your future days would be filled with five steps forward, two steps back but it was the natural process. Once you graduated and moved onto to bigger and better things—you’ll understand that this chapter, while thick and important, was only just a chapter. You have another one already waiting at the starting line to begin.
.
Jungkook was numb—literally numb as a needle digs in and out of skin, inking a flower onto his forearm. He had this one for awhile, but it still needed the little details to perfect the tattoo to his liking. His first tattoos, the scattered pieces on his hands were the most painful. However, now as he has a good amount of ink on his arm all the way to his shoulder, the pain isn’t there that much. He almost likes the stinging sensation as it gives him something to focus on rather than his intrusive thoughts.
The past few months haven’t been easy on him. Watching you walk away from him hit him harder than when Rose’s name showed up on his skin. And he just let you. Sure, he called and texted and persisted as much as he could but he knew he should have done more. He should have explained in more depth why he did what he did. Yes, it was because he loved you with every fiber of his being, but he genuinely didn’t care if he was meant for someone else. He wanted to be with you despite the situation present. There was surely something he could do to make it right but you were long gone from his life. He was stuck in a hole and he didn’t know how to get out.
Jungkook and Rose saw each other more frequently after his break up. She was so kind and so patient with him, he knew she deserved so much more. She never rushed anything with him, always waiting for his moves. The first time he kissed her, there was tingling deep in his chest. As great as kissing Rose was, she could never compare to you. It was hard and confusing for him to understand. He’s heard all his life—when soulmates cross paths and become intimate with each other, their whole world begins to revolve around them. That wasn’t the case though. As much as he was being pulled in by Rose, he was being pulled into a completely different direction. That wasn’t how bonded souls worked, he knew that much.
“You’re not very talkative today,” his tattooist comments as she wipes away the leftover ink on his arms. Jungkook always preferred a female to do his tattoos as they seem to have more control and a gentler grip.
“Just a lot on my mind,” he shrugs turning his head towards the tattoo needle.
“Women issues?” she raises an eyebrow at him.
“Is it that obvious?” he half laughs.
“My job requires a lot of listening and giving advice,” she says, “I know a damsel in distress when I see one.”
He doesn’t say anything as he watches the way she furrows her eyebrows, getting closer to his skin to add the finishing touches.
“Are you still with, Y/N? Was it?” she then asks. The mention of your name sends his face pale. How many months had it been since he last saw you or mentioned you? One, two, three? All of his days blended together so he’s lost track of time.
He shakes his head slowly, “No.”
She looks at him from the corner of her eyes, “Really? I thought you were gonna marry her?”
He bites down on his bottom lip to hold down his emotions before saying, “That was the plan until the universe decided to throw me bullshit.”
She’s never heard Jungkook sound angry. He’s always been very polite and an overall happy person. Jungkook felt he had a right to be angry and resentful. Unfortunately, that anger and resentment was sometimes projected onto those people around him. His roommates had to walk on eggshells around him now, afraid he might fully break if they said one wrong thing to him.
“When did this happen?” she knows exactly what he’s referring to.
“A few months back, around Christmas.”
“Have you met them yet? Your partner?” she pauses when she notices Jungkook’s jaw clenching as he’s staring at the ceiling now, “You don’t have to say anything if you’re uncomfortable. I just like to think I’m good at giving advice, is all.”
“Yeah, we’ve met,” he contemplates elaborating but does so anyways, “But it’s not this big grand affair that I was told about my whole life. She’s amazing and just my type, but… she’s not her. I like her a lot, but I don’t get the same fiery feeling I had with Y/N.”
“Hm,” she muses, putting down the tattoo gun, “You’re done,” she gives a small smile at him. He holds up his arm to inspect the new ink.
“Thanks, it looks great,” he gives her a small smile as she begins the aftercare process of petroleum jelly and a bandage.
“Can I see your mark?” she asks. He nods before shimmying his watch down his arm, revealing Rose’s name in thin cursive. The mark itself is still very much there, but recently it’s begun to fade and he wasn’t sure why.
“Sorry if I’m giving you too much information,” he laughs feeling slightly awkward as she inspects the name.
“It’s fine, I’m the one that asked,” she chuckles again before she sits back in her chair and begins to lift her own sleeve up. He’s confused as to what’s she doing but when she lays out her hand, he sees it. “This showed up when I was nineteen,” he reads the name that’s barely visible anymore—almost looking like a scar.
“Why’s it not dark anymore?” he asks.
“The same reason yours is fading too,” she looks back at his wrist.
“What do you mean fading?” so he wasn’t crazy—it was actually fading.
“It’s what happens when someone’s heart belongs to someone else,” she says, “I don’t know how to explain it but it occurs more than you think.”
She wraps up Jungkook’s forearm and he’s more confused than ever.
“The world is so fucked up,” he comments closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Heard that,” she nods in agreement, “Come on, I’ll ring you up.”
That day into the tattoo shop was a good day for him. It felt nice to open up about his situation to someone who seemingly understood what he was going through. Yes, the world was fucked up but so was everyone living in it. He didn’t understand the full meaning of his mark fading but he knew in the long run, he would deal with whatever was thrown at him. He had to otherwise he was going to live a long, miserable life. Besides, he knows that you would want him to be happy even though you probably hated him for what he did. He wants the same for you because at the end of the day, if he knew you were happy—he would be too.
. The smile on your face as you threw your cap into the air was probably the biggest and most genuine smile you’ve put on for months. The cheers and clapping from everyone in the room drowned out any tears that formed in your eyes. Of course you were happy to be done with university, but it was very bittersweet. The last four years of your life have been the best and worst possible. Everything you’ve learned here, you were sure would live with you for the rest of your life.
You find your parents and younger sister after the ceremony. The hug with your dad is the best you’ve had in a long time. He squeezes you tight, picking you up slightly.
“Gah, we’re so proud of you Y/N,” your mom dabs the inner corners of her eyes as she watches the seen unfold.
“I can’t believe my baby is graduated,” your dad pulls away, ruffling your hair a bit.
“Hey! Stop I spent time on this,” you step away from him, smoothing down your roots.
“Does this mean we get to go to New York now?” your big sister, Mia asks your parents. She’s pulls you into a hug which you exhale deeply in return. You didn’t get to see your sister as much as you wished, but growing up she was your rock. She was the best role model you could have asked for.
“Of course,” you say, “Only if you bring me bags and bags of those honey butter chips.”
“Anything you want we can bring it, or ship it!” your mom nods enthusiastically.
“What about me?” you turn around at the voice of Taehyung, throwing your arms around him.
“Holy shit Taehyung we’ve done it!” you exclaim. Your parents give you a slide on your language in front of them, understanding the circumstance.
“Mia! What’s up!?,” Taehyung pokes your sister on the shoulder before giving her a quick hug. He holds up his diploma and smiles, “Four years and thousands upon thousands of dollars later, we’ve made it.”
“Do you still wanna go downtown? Grab some dinner?” you ask your parents and they nod excitedly.
“Definitely—you choose wherever,” your father smiles. “Taehyung, you and Jimin are welcome to come if you don’t have any plans.”
“Oh we will definitely be there,” he smiles, “Just text me where you guys are going. I gotta go find the devil and my parents through all this mess. See you later!”
Later ended up being at a nicer restaurant downtown that you had never been to—too broke as a college student to ever think about coming here for dinner. You mulled over conversation with glasses of wine and good food, Taehyung being the star of the dinner table. Jimin smiled lovingly at his partner, slightly jealous that you and Taehyung were now finished with school. He’s got another year left in his master’s program so he’ll be graduated this time next year.
When you’re finally done with dinner, you part with your parents and sister for the evening outside the restaurant when you run into an all familiar face.
“Y/N?”
You turn to the source, “Namjoon?” a smile spreads over your face and you quickly make your way to him and give him a squeeze.
“Congrats!” he smiles when you pull away, looking back over your shoulder.
“You too, I can’t believe we’re done,” you laugh taking in his attire. He’s dressed in a nice button down and dress pants, glasses resting on his face looking dapper as ever. “Oh this is my family,” you introduce the them.
“Nice to meet you,” he smiles, “This is Kaya,” he smiles and you didn’t even realize he had company with him. You introduce yourselves to each other and she’s got to be one of the most beautiful girls you’ve met. They look damn good together.
“Nice to meet you,” you return your own smile.
“Is dinner here good?” he asks all of you. Everyone agrees in response and he looks over to Kaya, “Well, it was good to meet you all. Let’s catch up one day? You’re gonna be around in the city right?”
“A city yes,” Mia interjects crossing her arms, slightly envious of you, “Not this one, but New York City.”
Namjoon raises his eyebrows at you, “Wow, big girl things huh?”
You laugh repeating his words, “Big girl things.”
Namjoon and Kaya leave into the bustling restaurant after some finals words and you’re finally parting ways with your family. You mom and dad give you another bone crushing hug before they have to go back home. Mia looks at you with a sadness in her eyes and you furrow your eyebrows at her.
“What’s wrong?” you ask her as she hides herself in her shell.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she pouts, slumping her shoulders.
“I still have a few more months home,” you give her a smile, “And I promise you can visit me and I’ll come back as much as I can.”
“Promise?” she holds up her pinky. You link your pinkies together before nodding your head.
You bid your farewell’s to your family one last time before you’re left alone with Jimin and Taehyung.
“Your sister is funny,” Jimin comments as you begin to walk in the opposite direction of them. Your heels were absolutely killing your feet and you were tempted to take them off but thinking about the dirt and grim on the street made you think otherwise.
“She’s sweet on the outside but damn she can be a handful,” you laugh.
“She’s almost twenty five babe, about to hit her first mid-life crisis what do you expect?” Taehyung says.
Minuscule conversation occurs between the three of you before they have to part ways too. Taehyung and Jimin were meeting up with Taehyung’s parents at a bar just outside the city to celebrate. The sun was now setting, the air warm and sticky as you hugged them off. You were walking back to the parking garage that you had your car when something catches your eye on the way. Downtown was filled with bars, restaurants, boutiques and what nots, but you’ve never seen this before. It was an art studio of sorts, pictures—digital and art canvases—hanging from the windows.
You stared at the plexiglass, a sense of familiarity crossing your mind the longer you stared at the blown up photographs. You take a peak at the hours listed on the door and see that they don’t close for another twenty minutes or so. Curiosity getting the best of you, you swing open the door, silence engulfing you as you step in.
Your heels clink against the hardwood, glancing around the space. It’s quite spacious, pictures lining the walls up and down all the way to the back. A few art pieces are strayed in the middle of the floor. You walk slowly around the gallery, admiring the painted canvases and shots of various things. You pick up there’s different artists and photographs displaying their works and when you get towards the back left corner of the place, you stop in your tracks.
A gallery of scenic pictures ranging from clouds, to the sea, to the cityscapes, and more hang beautifully in thin frames. Something twists inside you as you feel deep down that you’ve seen some of these before you just cannot put your finger on it. It’s when you see a picture to the farthest right when you feel yourself skipping a breath. Your mouth parts when you realize what it it—or who it is. It’s you. It’s black and white film developed, the side of your face looking off into the distance with trees behind you. Your mind flashes back to that day in the park—with Jungkook—a small picnic he set up when you first got together.
“Y/N?” you whip around at the sound of your name.
“J-Jungkook?” his name leaves your lips instantly. He’s emerged from a back room stopping dead in his tracks. You’re speechless. He looks so good—better than you remember. His hair a little longer with blonde tips, a white button up, sleeves rolled up with black slacks that he fills out perfectly.
“H-hey,” he speaks first. His eyes trailing up and down your body quickly. You subconsciously glance down at your frame, the white dress and heels you’re wearing hoping to match how he good looks. “What are you doing here?”
“I—“ you pause looking back at the pictures, “I was just passing by and was curious, I didn’t know this place existed.”
Slowly, he steps closer to you shoving his hands in his pockets. His ears are red and he can’t believe that you’re here, looking at his favorite picture he ever took of you.
“It just opened up recently,” he says getting closer to you, though leaving a considerable amount of space between you two. “I started selling some of my pieces through here,” he explains.
“That’s great Jungkook,” you give him a small smile to hide the hurt you’re actually feeling. It’s been months and suddenly all of your progress seems to have backtracked. He was so beautiful—the most perfect man you have ever met—and he’s standing here before you again. Jungkook can’t believe his eyes either—you’re here, feet away from him, something he thought he’d never see anymore.
“How are you doing?” he asks, unable to take his off you. You can feel him staring holes into you and you can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet.
“I’m good, you?” you continuously stare at his photos, feeling self conscious the more you stand in his presence.
“I’m okay,” better now that you’re here, is what he wants to say, but he refrains. “You look good,” he says and you look over and up at him, meeting his eye contact.
“You too,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to his wrist, not even realizing what you’re doing. His watch still there, hasn’t moved since the last time you saw him. You feel a tingle in your fingertips and chest, unable to hide your awkwardness.
“Y/N,” he stops himself so you’ll look at him again. Fuck, he loves it when you look at him like that. “Would you want to get some coffee one day? Or something like that?” his words are brave and you can’t believe he said them.
As much as you know you shouldn’t—that you might be setting yourself up for further hurt—something between the two makes you say otherwise. Besides, you’ve been hurt enough, what’s a little more going to do?
You slowly with a small smile, “What about right now? A-are you free?”
He glances at his photos with a small smile in return before glancing back to you, his shoulders slumping as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
“Yeah… yeah I’m free.”
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hyunjilicious · 3 years
Text
a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 3
A/n: I know it took me ages, and I'm sorry, but it's finally here!! I don't know when part 4 will be up, but I know the plot, and by the time you finish reading this, you'll know it too!! Filth is coming. Also, since I posted the first 2 parts weeks ago, under the cut you'll find a small summary of what happened so far! Ofc, I'm linking the previous parts as well! Have fun reading, sorry for taking me so long, and please, don't hesitate to tell me what you thought! (I’ll reblog it with the taglist, otherwise it doesn’t show up in the tags!)
Summary: after Henry lost it during a fit of jealousy, he sneaked into your apartment, his actions having some very different repercussions from what he initially intended. SMUT 3.9k
Warnings: please be over 18!!! mentions of smut, masturbation (male receiving), sightly/some somnophilia, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry, cum play if you squint and ofc, mentions of filming and sharing pornographic material. 18+ please!!!!
You can find part 1 here and part 2 here!
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Quick recap: Henry's crush on his very sweet and younger neighbour (you lol) grew into something else when you asked him for help with taking some pictures for your onlyfans account. Following this, your relationship reached a very teasing level, which prompted Henry to take matters into his own hands, even if that meant crossing some lines. So when he found out that you and a specific man from your past were on a voice call, he just had to know what exactly was being discussed. This jealousy fit had him using his spare key to enter your apartment and eavesdrop, and this is where chapter 2 ends. Have fun reading the next part!!!
“No” you sighed, waving your arms around, desperate to get your point across. But it was mostly useless, nothing even remotely decent would ever manage to penetrate Steve’s thick skull. He was a dumbass with a heart of gold, so you couldn’t even blame him for messing things up on purpose, you just learned the hard way not to take his advice under any circumstance. “No, Steve. I won’t do that. Not a chance!”
“Hun-” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as a smirk showed up on his lips, “When have I ever been wrong?”
“Really!?” you giggled and then sighed, “Listen, I gotta go to the bathroom and you’d better forget about this topic by the time I come back”
“Wait, wait. Ok, fine. Scratch that” Steve laughed, stopping you from getting up, “When have I ever been wrong on purpose?”
“Listen, I know you’re just trying to help” you smiled, “But I don’t think your experience in seducing girls with daddy issues benefits my situation in any kind of way”
“‘Course it does! I can give you some perspective!”
“Perspective on what?” you mocked, playfully frowning at him through the screen on your laptop, “You and Henry have nothing in common”
“The dick for one” Steve joked but when he saw you roll your eyes, he became serious, “I’m just tryin to help you hook up with the guy! That’s all”
“See!?” you laughed, already exasperated by the conversation, “I’m not trying to hook up with him, I want something more…”
Your sentence was cut short by the sound of a door closing. Your blood ran cold and your hands froze, eyes staring blankly into the camera.
“Y/n?” Steve asked with worry, “What’s wrong?”
“Wait here” you mumbled, pushing the laptop off of you and rushing to the door of your bedroom. You pressed your ear against it, and listened closely, the sound of a lock being turned chilling you to your bones. With shaky hands, you stumbled your way back to your bed, and looked into the camera, directly at a somewhat already worried Steve. “I gotta go-”
“Wait-” Steve tried to ask, “Are you-”
“Yeah, I’m fine, talk to you later” you hurriedly mumbled before ending the call. Your fingers flew across the screen of your phone, finding Henry’s name and pressing the green button in the blink of an eye.
And had he not been this utterly stupid and reckless, none of this would have happened. His impulsivity got the best of him, and panic rushed through his veins when he heard you were about to head to the bathroom. Pressure did him no good, and the first thing that came to mind at that point was to bolt out of there, knowing there was absolutely no way to explain what he was doing in your apartment. But his shaky hands were of no help, and the dexterity he earlier proved himself capable of was nowhere to be found. However, he didn’t care. He just stormed out, happy to finally breathe again as soon as he was out of your apartment - but when his phone vibrated in his pocket, he felt like dying all over again.
With your heart beating inside your throat, you grabbed your bedside lamp into your free hand, and curled yourself into a ball in the corner of your room, opposite to the door, the sound of the ongoing call being the only thing you heard over the loud buzz in your ears.
“Yeah?” Henry’s voice rang loudly when he finally answered, making you all but jump with fright.
Had you paid more attention, you’d have noticed he too sounded out of breath, but you were too out of it to tell. All you could think about was the psycho what was at your door.
“Henry-” you cried, voice shaky as the intake of air was no longer satisfying. You were hyperventilating, sweating from every pore, scared out of your mind.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice more stern now. “Y/n? Are you ok?”
“Yeah- yeah…” you said on autopilot, mind on standby. “No…” You whimpered, “Henry, can you- I think someone is trying to break into my house, I-”
“What!?” he gasped, “I’m sure no one-”
“Henry!” you cried into the phone, “Can you please look through your peephole? Please?”
He sounded confused, but you didn’t have to ask him twice. You heard a bit of shuffling before his voice reached your ears again, “There’s no one there, there’s no one at your door, you can relax”
“No-” you whimpered, unable to calm down, “Henry, please-!”
“I’m coming over right now,” he said.
“No! No, what if they’re still in the hallway?”
“There’s no one there, love” Henry tried to reassure you. When you heard him unlock the door of his apartment your heart stopped, but after that, everything was quiet. 
“Are you ok?” you muttered, wiping your nose with your sleeve.
“Yes, love. I’m fine” Henry lightly chuckled, “I’m at your door, can you open up?”
“No” you scoffed, “What if someone got in?”
“No one got in” he tried to explain, but your adrenaline soaked brain refused to comply.
“Henry, take the spare key I gave you” you suggested, “And grab a knife”
Seeing how affected and terrified you were, Henry didn’t argue with you anymore. In a matter of seconds, you heard the door of your apartment being unlocked, Henry assuring you through the phone that it was him. When he walked inside, you remained hidden in your spot. He checked the kitchen and the living room, coming up to finally enter the bedroom. When your eyes landed on his massive frame, you breathed out relieved and rushed to him, throwing yourself into his arms. There was no other place on Earth you felt as safe as you did when he was holding you.
“Shh, you’re ok, you’re good” Henry cooed, cradling you to his chest, “I got you, baby, ok? I’m here”
But there was no stopping you. You broke down entirely, holding onto him as your legs gave in, turning into a mess. Henry carried you to the bed, sitting you down and allowing you to calm down at your own pace.
“I’m here, ok?” he asked again, rubbing your back, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/n, you know that. You’re safe, I got you”
It was impossible to tell just how long it took you to fully calm down, but it was safe to say that it would have taken hours longer had Henry not been there with you. When you were finally able to properly breathe again and hold a conversation, you looked up at him, big doe eyes hoping to convince him without too much of a fuss. “Can you stay here with me, please? I can’t be alone right now”
With nothing but sympathy in his eyes, Henry leaned down and kissed your forehead, “Don’t you think it would be better if we went over to my place instead?”
“No” you shook your head, “And leave the apartment unattended? I don’t think that’s a good idea”
His heart broke. Being his usual, impulsive self, Henry managed to break you down and terrify you to your core. As much as he wanted to reassure you everything would be fine, he couldn’t. He couldn’t just tell you it was him who broke into your apartment in the middle of a jealousy breakdown. So, he settled for the second best option, and really, he couldn’t complain.
It was late in the afternoon on a Sunday, no locksmith on the clock. Seeing how you’d have to wait until the next morning, he was more than happy to spend that time with you.
As time started to pass, you also started to relax. 
The day slowly wilted a way, as both you and Henry made yourselves busy around your apartment. He wasted a couple of hours installing games on your school laptop as you took a bath, he then cooked you dinner, and by the time the night rolled around, you were your usual bubbly self again. And after watching and laughing your hearts out at Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets, sleep started to creep up on you.
Henry placed one of your kitchen chairs under the doorknob before turning to give you a massive hug, “No one can get in, darling. I promise”
“Thank god you live across the hall” you confessed, snaking your arms under his hoodie as you gathered yourself as close to him as possible. “What would I have done otherwise?”
“You don’t have to worry about that” Henry kissed your forehead, “I’ll always be here when you need me”
And in that moment, right there, stopping yourself from kissing him turned out to be the most difficult thing you ever had to do. Instead, you settled for his cheek, before hiding your face against his shoulder. “I’ll always be here for you too”
“Thank you, angel” Henry breathed out.
There really was nothing on this earth you loved more than this man. 
Getting ready to go to sleep, you changed in your pajamas, while all Henry did was take off his hoodie. With your toothbrush lodged between your teeth, you lingered in the door frame, watching the muscles of his back flex as he bent down and put his phone down to charge.
Toothpaste and drool could very well have dribbled down your chin as you stood and gawked, only releasing you were staring when Henry turned around and a smile made its way up his lips. “Yes?” he laughed, but all you did was look him up and down, before returning to the bathroom with a shake of your head.
“Oh, Y/n?” Henry called again, following you, “Where can I find a blanket or some sheets?”
First you squinted, but then you decided it would be best if you just finished brushing your teeth before anything else. After rinsing your mouth, you turned to look at him, utterly unamused. “What for?”
“So I don’t have to sleep on leather?”
“You’re sleeping with me” you rolled your eyes, grabbing his elbow and dragging him into the bathroom so he could get ready for bed too. “Not up for discussion”
“Ok” Henry chuckled, looking at you in the mirror. “But I snore”
As if that would make you reconsider. You walked away and into your room, settling under the covers, without another word. About 10 minutes later, Henry joined you.
He fit in like a piece of puzzle and you didn’t even try to keep yourself from cuddling into his side. Sinking his head down between the multitude of pillows on your bed, you giggled, crawling on top of him. Without thinking too much about it, you kissed your way down his neck, peppering tens of kisses against his naked chest. You felt his heartbeat under your palm as he breathed in and out slowly, smiling down at you as he enjoyed the view.
“Thanks for doing this for me” you mumbled, rubbing your hand up and down his chiseled abdomen.
“Really, Y/n” Henry said, wrapping his arms around you, “There’s no need to thank me. Plus, you think I’m not enjoying this?”
“Oh shut up” you giggled. The amount of small talk that followed turned out to be exactly what you needed in order to allow your eyes to peacefully close. Despite the events of earlier in the evening, you now felt safer than ever before.
It was just a matter of time until soft snores started escaping past your lips, your chest rising and falling every so softly as you drifted out of consciousness.
But Henry’s mind was nowhere near relaxed enough to drift off. No. You were too close to him, too innocent and vulnerable for him to just let this moment pass. The way you had just thrown one of your legs over his lap drove him insane - your bare thigh too accessible to him.
At first, he just tested the waters. A peck to the top of your head, and a small caress against the back of your hand. You were completely out, and that accentuated his need further.
Slowly moving his free arm down his body, Henry brushed his fingers over his clothed member, grunting out loud when he felt the sensibility in his tip. He bit into his bottom lip out of need to keep quiet, teasing himself just a little as he struggled to decide how to go about things. With the way you were laying right now, it was next to impossible for him to free himself without moving you. And even though at the beginning he tried to avoid that, when you stirred in your sleep, your body rubbing up against his, he lost all kinds of patience.
As softly as he could, Henry pushed your leg back, just a little. Even in your sleep, you craved his touch, as when you felt movement, you involuntarily shuffled closer, but much to his relief, your legs remained on the mattress.
Eagerness controlled his actions as he pushed his pants down his thighs, propping his hips up with difficulty. When his underwear was pulled down and his cock sprung free, Henry hissed with unmatched satisfaction. With his hand wrapped around his base and his eyes on you, he swallowed thickly, his heart beating out of his chest with a demented sense of bliss.
"My baby-" Henry cooed, rubbing his lips across your hairline as he started stroking his cock.
His movements were slow but not calculated in any way. His brain was occupied, forcing his hand to work on muscle memory. But still, he teased himself, rubbing his thumb across his slit just like he liked to think you would. 
The fear of getting caught was at an all time high as you stirred again. He froze for a second, "That's my good girl-" Henry whispered, looking down at your sleeping frame. As much as he wanted you to take an active part in this, he knew better than to risk it. 
It was getting more and more difficult to breathe, his back sweating profusely as he pumped himself closer to the edge. His hips bucked, causing the bed frame to creak. Instantly, he stilled, eyes on you, but all you did was rub your cheek against his chest, completely unaware of your surroundings.
"I'm so close for you, my darling" Henry groaned, his throat paper dry as the words left his lips. All he could hear was his own breathing and the unmistakable perverse sound of slapping skin, but still, even above all of that, you kept on peacefully snoring. 
The arm Henry looped around your frame was now traveling lower, his palm exploring your side until he reached your ass. He softly gripped a handful of your bum, squeezing hard enough to make up for the struggle of not allowing himself to finish too early. But it was reckless and maybe he shouldn't have done so, as his touch all but woke you up. 
Still overwhelmed with sleep, you barely pushed yourself up, eyes closed as you slightly changed your position. You were now laying higher up his body, your head almost falling off his shoulder. Your breathing tickled the side of his neck as you snaked your arm up and looped it around his frame. Biting down hard on his bottom hip, Henry felt ridiculous amounts of blood rush to the tip of his cock as you refused to settle already.
Rubbing the tip of your nose across his jugular, still mostly out but not fully, you peaked your eyes open, “Henry-?”
“Y- yeah?” he swallowed thickly, freezing in his spot.
“Why’re you awake?” you mumbled.
“Just woke up- had a weird dream, that’s all”
You believed the lie without an ounce of doubt, “Wanna talk about it?”
“Yes” he whispered, “But in the morning. Sorry I woke you up, go back to sleep, darling”
“Ok” you sighed, kissed his bare shoulder and allowed yourself to drift off again.
Henry licked his lips in a haze, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as sweat worked his entire body. God, how he regretted getting himself in his position, but his cock was full on hard, all but leaking at the tip, not so patiently waiting to receive any kind of attention again. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes on you to make sure you were asleep. 
His heart skipped a beat as your mouth popped open, but your light snores came as the strongest form of reassurance, and he resumed his work. The anxiety of getting caught fueled him, and the heels of his feet dug into the mattress, his hips bucking upwards as he furiously pumped his cock.
It was all getting too much. He was close. Henry threw his head back trying to suppress a moan, but he miserably failed. A choked back wail escaped his now dry lips as his whole body tensed. He squeezed you closer, his fingers lewdly digging into the sweet flesh of your ass. He was crossing many lines but that didn't stop him. He didn't see things clear anymore. His chest heaved, rushing up and down as he fisted his cock, biting into his lower lip as he watched your peaceful expression. 
It was pure, dumb luck that he managed to spot a pack of napkins laying on the night stand mere seconds before he came. His juices eagerly ran down his shaft as he flew through his orgasm, his saviour napkin proving almost useless. 
Coming down from his high, he all but managed to calm down, but his mind was still set. He would never get enough of you. And no matter how many times he'd cum, he'd still be down to go again. You had that power over him.
"Fuck…" Henry panted. And in the blur of the moment he created, he didn't even stop to process his thoughts. Gathering the few droplets of cum that landed on his stomach, he brought his hand up to your face, his thumb rubbing across your lips. 
In that moment, then and there, when you unconsciously wrapped your lips around his finger, he almost lost it all over again. 
"Holy-" he cried again, kissing your forehead. As eager and willing as he was to keep going, Henry stopped himself. He tucked the napkins next to the foot of the bed, pulled his pants back up his hips and settled under the covers. 
Sleep didn't come easy, but he eventually drifted off. Unfortunately, the clock had almost struck 3am by the time he closed his eyes, and no later than 6:15, your alarm went off.
"No" you protested, wiggling around in search of your phone. "No school- no, thank you"
Eyes closed and cheek squished into the pillow, Henry raised his arm and found the phone with ease, handing it to you without a word.
Squinting under the bright light of the screen, you dismissed the alarm and snuggled back into Henry's chest, his arms wrapping around your body in an instant.
And as heavenly as this felt, it only lasted for about 5 minutes, until your alarm went off again. 
"Just turn it off" Henry laughed, kissing your forehead, "I'll wake you up after I make breakfast"
"You don't have to" you protested, throwing in a whine or two as you curled yourself around him.
"I want to"
"No"
"Y/n…"
"Ok fine" you sighed, "Thank you"
"No need darling" Henry chuckled and stood up. He once again pecked the top of your head and then he was gone. About one second and a half later, you were asleep again, only to complain when Henry woke you up.
"It's 7" he stated, gathering the blanket in his arms and allowing the cold air to reach your body.
"Give it back" you cried.
"Is that how it's gonna be?" Henry threatened, and despite his dominating tone, you still refused to take him seriously. When you hid your face between the pillows, he deeply sighed, but satisfaction was still audible in his tone. "Fine then"
Taking you completely by surprise, Henry bent down and gathered you in his arms, throwing you over his shoulder with absolute ease.
"Henry-" you yelled, "The fuck-"
"Not gonna be late, Y/n" Henry laughed, "Not on my watch"
"God" you giggled along and allowed yourself to be carried to the kitchen. 
As soon as he walked out of the bedroom, a delicious smell reached your nose. It was probably the first real breakfast you'd had in weeks, so you weren't going to complain anymore. Fresh coffee, toast, avocado, pancakes, hard boiled eggs and a multitude of veggies and fruit awaited on the table.
"I didn't even know I had all this food in my house"
"You didn't-" Henry shook his head, sitting down beside you, "Grabbed them from my place"
"You shouldn't have, but thank you"
"No need" he assured you, "Dig in"
When you were done, and right before you headed to the bathroom to get ready, you turned to him again. "Do you know the number of any locksmiths? I really wanna change the locks"
Following a quick Google search, Henry found a multitude of ads, and after choosing the most trustworthy looking one, he dialed the number as you patiently waited beside him.
Everything seemed to go perfectly well, until he frowned, "No, today pl- [...] No, I'm not locked out of my- [...] You sure-? Ok, ok fine. Ok, tomorrow, first thing, ok, thanks"
"They can't come today?" you pouted as soon as he hung up.
"No, I'm sorry" Henry shook his head, and seeing the disappointment plastered on your face, he spoke up again. "I can stay one more night, if you want to. I'll sleep in the living room-"
"What? No" you scoffed, "It's not that…"
"What is it then?" he questioned, starting to get worried.
You hesitated. "Its no-"
"Don't tell me it's nothing" Henry commanded, pointing a finger at you. A smile appeared at the corner of your lips as you rolled your eyes.
"Ok, fine. I just- I just had to film today for the- you know… That's all, but I can do it some other day"
Henry didn't answer until a smirk tilted the corner of his lips upwards. "Or I could help you?"
"Help me?" you gawked.
"Yeah" he nonchalantly shrugged, "Helped you once before, didn't I?"
"You sure?"
"Yeah" he smiled, "Only if you me want to, of course"
Your knees weakened and your heart was beating in all the wrong ways, so all you managed to do was giggle and shake your head in disbelief. "Well, yeah... I want to"
How were you going to tell him that the video was supposed to be of you fucking yourself with a baby pink dildo? And how exactly was he going to help? You had a long day ahead of you and the ridiculous amounts of school work you had to get done in the meantime didn't allow you to give these questions any kind of priority. All you wanted was for the evening to come around already even if you sweated profusely just at the thought of what was to come.
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writesowhatnext · 4 years
Text
the solution is outsourcing // fred weasley
Summary: the reader is awkward… really awkward, but quite brilliant, really. Maybe that’s why Fred’s so interested
Request: hi lovely, love your writing! can i req a fluffy fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader please? maybe the reader knows something that’ll help him with a prank or something?
A/N: I had such a hard time writing this if not purely because I fell down a hunger games rabbit hole and felt like I was 12 again BUT ALSO halfway through this I was creasing because I kept having to tell myself that I absolutely could not name this ‘the highs and lows of high school quidditch’
Reader: Ravenclaw
Warnings: 1 swear word maybe?
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Hogwarts, as you discovered pretty early on, was not at as boring as most schools in the area. First of all, there weren’t any other schools in the area due to it being a castle nestled just within the Scottish Highlands and all. Secondly, being a school for wizards, it had its fair share of perks that came with the territory: from learning about thestrals to broomsticks to sleeping draughts and everything in between, life at Hogwarts had a certain je ne sais quoi that most schools just weren’t cut out for.
After the second time Harry Potter, a boy in the year below, was almost killed, you figured that Hogwarts’ flair came less from its magical subjects and more from the drama of constant near-death experiences. Regardless, though, you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
Amidst the chaos, it was easy to forget sometimes that Hogwarts was still a school. A school full of teenagers. A school full of incredibly gifted and incredibly impressionable teenagers.
Not only were you extremely blessed to be learning all that you were but you were also fairly bright, and so you were often very dedicated to your studies, making sure to soak up all the knowledge you could from every possible source. But even you weren’t immune to the consequences of a high school social hierarchy; a fact that would probably explain why your mouth was drying up faster than the Sahara Desert watching Fred Weasley across the room.
He always had this look in his eye like he knew something everyone else didn’t, you thought, your attention divided somewhat unequally between him and your History of Magic textbook. He also always managed to look attractive. You hummed as he turned, starting to approach your table. Wait, what? Your table?
Undeniably, Fred was one of the most popular boys in school.
Both handsome and hilarious, he and his twin brother George were infamous for their pranks and notorious for their quidditch playing. Everybody knew who they were and if they didn’t, they would soon enough.
Your friends, usually so engrossed in their own discussions, grew silent and your hands stilled on your textbook, your fingers pinching at the old pages. It’s not like you often watched Fred Weasley across the courtyard… or classrooms… or the Great Hall.
Well.
To your defence, though, you were usually a lot less obvious and he was usually a lot less heading in your direction.
Why was he coming over to your bench? He probably wasn’t, you thought. It was probably just a detour. Or a prank. You swallowed, unable to tear your eyes off of him. The courtyard was loud with chatter, but you’d wager your heartbeat was louder. Why was he still heading your way?
“Hi,” he said leisurely, crossing his arms over one another as he stood next to your bench. His lean muscles strained under his jumper and though your perspective was warped by your goo-goo eyes and the fact you were sat down, it was still fairly obvious that he was tall. He had the aura of someone tall, you decided, and if his crooked grin was anything to go by, he was apparently completely aware of the effect he had on you and everyone else, for that matter.
You looked behind you, your confusion growing when you found only air and realised that he was, in fact, talking to you.
You frowned, your lips puckering as you tried to form a word, any word.
“What?”
Maybe not that word. In fact, maybe any other word would have been better.
“Uh,” he said, leaning backwards and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Hi?”
You cursed yourself under your breath.
“Hello?” you replied, your tone unsure.
“I’m Fred,” he said, his uneasy expression replaced quickly with the same charming smile.
Before your brain could catch up with your mouth, you scoffed. “I know.”
“Merlin,” you muttered under your breath, blinking and swallowing back the dryness in your throat. “I’m Y/N.”
“I know.”
The amused smirk playing on his lips almost definitely blew a fuse in your brain.
“I’ve been looking for you actually,” he said, placing his hand on your table and leaning over.
If his words weren’t enough to send you over the edge, his proximity plummeted your brain into some alternate reality where it was unavoidable to say awkward things to attractive strangers.
“Well, it’s your lucky day!” you chimed, your cheerful grin dying on your lips as you heard your own words. Why you couldn’t just behave normally was beside you.
Fred didn’t seem to mind nor notice how painfully awkward you felt.
“Isn’t it just?” he said, his surprised expression relaxing into a smirk. He turned to one of your friends opposite you and pointed to the empty space next to him. “D’you mind if I sit here, mate?”
“’Course not,” your friend said, shooting you an entertained smile and sliding up so Fred could sit facing you. His knees touched yours as he clambered over the bench.
“Now,” Fred said, his tone serious as a decidedly playful glint flickered in his eyes. “I need your help.”
You opened your mouth, probably sucking all of the air out of the quad in the process as your eyebrows knitted together. You didn’t think Fred Weasley even knew who you were. Thankfully, he didn’t wait for your brain-cells to cooperate to form a reply.
“My sister says you’re a genius. I’ll assume that’s true; I’ve never seen anyone actually read this,” he gestured towards your textbook with a lopsided smirk. “So, are you actually a mastermind or are you just fooling the rest of us?”
His eyes were so bright as he spoke, so expectant as well. Expectant? Oh, a question.
You let your gaze trail down his face slowly. His eyes were warmer up close, you thought, and he had lots of tiny freckles.
“Hello?” he said, waving his hand in front of you with a half-smile and an amused frown.
“Um,” you stalled, swallowing. “Your sister. Oh, yes, Ginny. Your sister. Ginny Weasley.”
You nodded, letting your mind catch up to the conversation and avoiding any glances towards his smiling features. “I tutored her last year. Can’t see why: she didn’t need my help. She’s rather sharp herself.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Fred rushed, already bored of the topic of his sister as he dismissed you and leant in closer. “She said that you were brilliant, though. Especially at Charms.”
Your face warmed at his words and Fred watched rather curiously as you looked away, placing your hands into your lap and fiddling with your quill under the table.
“I’m pretty good,” you said, mulling it over. “I think Flitwick just likes me.”
“Yeah, right, anyway,” he snorted disbelievingly. He pursed his lips before leaning forward on his elbows. “I need your help with a charm for a prank.”
“A prank?”
“A prank, indeed.”
You looked to your left, watching your friends pretend not to listen to your conversation. Your brain hadn’t fully caught on to idea yet that you were sat even in close proximity to Fred Weasley, let alone that you were talking to him. And now he wanted you to help him? You couldn’t decide whether stranger things had happened.
“Please?” he said, tilting his head to the side and widening his eyes. Before he sat down at your table, you didn’t know Fred Weasley; you only knew of Fred Weasley and so, what you didn’t know was that he was born with a gift. A gift that involved possessing a pair of the world’s greatest puppy dog eyes. He watched smugly as your indecision faltered and you cracked a smile at his silly expression. Something stirred in his chest at the sight of you.
“What’s the prank?” you asked, keeping up the façade of reservation. Fred knew, though: he’d got you hooked.
“Wait, wait, wait,” you said, waving your hands around wildly. Your friends had long since disappeared from the courtyard, off to their classes or to study elsewhere. “How are you going to give him the hair dye?”
“Ah,” Fred sighed animatedly, stretching his back from his hunched-over position. “That’s for me to know, isn’t it?”
You smiled, pursing your lips together as you shared a conspiratorial look.
Being around Fred, it seemed, was much easier than first anticipated. When you got over the initial shock of him a) knowing you exist and b) talking to you, you found yourself falling into a comfortable rhythm, a light banter of ideas. Every so often, though, you were struck by the slope of his nose or the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. You were lucky, you realised, that you had such a good excuse to distract you from just staring at him the whole time.
“Alright,” you said tightly, frowning at the parchment you had ripped out to scribble notes on. Fred’s eyes followed your face. “I think I can do it.”
“Really?”
His face lit up and your stomach dropped at how cute he looked, butterflies fluttering in its wake.
“How?”
Your brows drew together and you bit your lip, fingers drumming lightly on the paper.
“Let me-“ you said, standing up abruptly and circling around the otherwise empty bench, slotting yourself beside him without a second thought.
“Right, so I think that if you take a simple transfiguration charm and then layer it-“ You paused as a deep crease imprinted on Fred’s forehead. “Look,” you insisted, leaning closer to him and pushing your notes around, using your finger to point at your words. “All you have to do really is layer the charms to make them harder to undo and then…”
Fred didn’t listen to the rest. He couldn’t, really. Not when he could feel your warmth next to him, your shoulder pressed against his and your breath fanning against his cheek every time you looked up. He couldn’t figure out how he never noticed you before. Gruffly, he swallowed, forcing himself to pay attention.
“You top it all off with a pre-emptive counter charm and the hair dye will last a while,” you nodded, pleased with your work. “His hair will probably grow out sooner than he can fix the colour.”
Turning to Fred, only slightly surprised that he was already looking at you, you grinned as he let out a deep throaty chuckle.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he muttered, shaking his head with his tongue poking out between his lips. “You are bloody brilliant.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he snatched up the piece of parchment, swung his legs over the bench and raced off, his cheerful demeanour almost making up for the way your heart sank at him leaving. You watched him disappear down the corridor and sighed, letting your head loll backwards. The idea that things would just go back to how they were plagued your mind as you packed away your books, resting your knees on the bench.
He’d always be Fred Weasley, the most popular boy in school, and you’d just be you. Back to normal.
“Oh,” Fred said breathlessly as he appeared behind you. You couldn’t help the smile that lifted your cheeks as you raised your eyebrow.
Your smile dropped, though, when he leant closer and pressed his lips ever so delicately to your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact and you could feel the rush of blood to your face.
“I’ll find a way to thank you for your help,” he said, beaming at your surprised expression. “Promise.”
It took a week for them to finalise the prank, it seemed. You wondered whether you’d just missed the outcome until one morning, Draco Malfoy stormed into the Great Hall with a scowl and bright orange hair. His entrance was met with whistles and cheers and as you looked over at the Gryffindor table, your eyes widened as they met Fred’s. Whilst his brother and their friends laughed and jeered, he just grinned at you. With a small burst of courage, you waved. He pursed his lips in amusement before he lifted up a paper aeroplane in his hand, gesturing to throw it.
Your eyebrows creased at the idea, but you watched with your heart beating in your chest as the aeroplane soared over to you, dropping gently onto your empty plate. Looking up at Fred, you frowned, unable to keep the smile off of your face. He urged you to open it, making faces as if to say ‘what are you waiting for?’.
You chuckled; the paper rough on your fingertips as you unfolded it. Written in rather jaunty handwriting, was a simple question signed off with a simple ‘-F’.
You, me, Hogsmeade, this weekend?
You could’ve got whiplash from how quickly your head shot up. Even from so far away, the nervousness and anticipation on Fred’s face were beyond evident and painfully endearing. You nodded, biting your lip to suppress your smile. You’d have thought it was infectious given his own shit-eating grin. He shot you a wink and turned back to his friends and you found yourself working out exactly how long you had until your date with nonother than Fred Weasley.
harry potter tag list: (added later bc braincells - some didnt work)
@creator-appreciator @decadentwastelandtrash @loveisblindness @xinyourdreamsx @brainlesspasta @hariosborn @staringmoony @rexorangecouny @alittletoomanyobsessions @peachesandpinks @yuptha-tsme @obsessedwithrandomthings @dreamer821 @iprobablyshipit91 @in-slytherin-we-trust @haphazardhufflepuff @princesof-theuniverse @whovianayesha @msmimimerton @extra-trash77 @potterverseimagine @my-own-mindpalace @sxrensxngwrites @damonwhitlock @susceptible-but-siriusexual @answer-the-sirens @thisismysketchbook @ickle-ronniekins @harrysweasleys​
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snowywrites · 3 years
Text
Natsuki x comedic!reader
summary: this was a request from someone on quotev, reader is gender neutral!
word count: 3k
You set your bag down next to your usual chair in the Literature Club room before taking a seat in one of the desk chairs. Stretching your arms up high over your head, you suppress a yawn; being stuck in school for an extra hour or so wasn't all that bad, considering you got to see your friends whom you didn't really share any classes with.
"Ugh. You're never the first one here."
A familiar irritated voice catches your attention, and you turn around in your chair to grin at the one and only Natsuki. Your expression brightens even more when you notice what she's carrying.
"Aww! Are those for us?" You coo, rising quickly from your chair to hurry over to the short pink-haired girl standing by the entrance to the room, examining the tray of muffins in her hands.
Immediately Natsuki recoils away from you, reminding you so much of a stray cat who never received enough love in their life. The thought makes you snort to yourself as she even straight up hisses, "Wh- these aren't for- I mean- they're for the club! But they aren't for, like, you and me!"
You listen to her fierce but confusing denial politely, your smile softening but never completely disappearing. She could get so riled up sometimes over the tiniest things.
Natsuki's blush is apparent, and you're highly tempted to make some sort of joking comment comparing her to something, when she suddenly backs up too far and collides with the doorframe of the classroom behind her. She squeaks, the tray suddenly seeming very shaky in her hands as she struggles to regain her balance to keep herself from toppling to the floor.
Not missing a beat, you reach out to catch the tray just as it slips from her hands, only narrowly managing to avoid watching the muffins spill all over the place.
Feeling pretty proud of yourself for that nice save, you hold the tray up triumphantly with one hand, showing off just a little bit as you smirk at Natsuki. "Well, what do you think? Have I earned the right to have at least one of these most-delightfully-baked-goods?"
She's fumbling for a response, ego most definitely wounded.
You lower the tray again, adding teasingly, "Alas, if you can't spare even one little muffin, I suppose we could work out some kind of arrangement?" You pause and hum, tapping your chin thoughtfully with one finger from your free hand, pretending to think for a moment. "How's about, say, three years of your devoted friendship? That about equals the rescued lives of- onetwothreefourfiveand... six muffins, wouldn't you agree?" You say, making a small show out of counting them.
Natsuki glares at you with scorching magenta eyes, stuttering over her words so much ('don't compare her to Yuri even as a joke, she will kill us right here and now, Y/N.') that you start to worry if maybe you've gone too far in teasing her today- not everyone appreciates your jokes, but you usually got the impression that Natsuki actually kind of liked them... even if she acted like she didn't. Normally, you could literally see her trying her best to fight back a giggle, but this time she seemed more sensitive for whatever reason.
"Ah, Natsuki-"
Whatever half-assed attempt at an awkward apology you were about to come up with was interrupted, of course, by your ever-excitable mutual friend Sayori launching herself into the classroom with all the unrestrained joy of an elementary schooler, exclaiming, "Y/N! You're never here this early- and you brought snacks??"
Sayori leans too close into your personal space to inspect the muffins before deciding, "Wait, no- these look too good to be yours, I bet Natsuki-" She glances over her shoulder to see the baker in question and exclaims, "So you did make them! Hey, thanks!"
Natsuki, still attempting to recover from her previous flustered state, huffs, refusing to look at either of you two. "Y-Yeah, it's no big deal..."
Sayori is already reaching over to snag one of the muffins; you have no doubt in mind that she was the reason Natsuki made six treats instead of five.
You try to catch Natsuki's eye so you could feign some good ol' exaggerated exasperation with the way Sayori ate like such a child, and how tactless she could be, but the short girl was doing her absolute best to continue ignoring your entire presence.
Yikes, maybe you actually had seriously offended her... or maybe it was just something else entirely that had upset her so much...?
Before you had the chance to really think too much about what could be bothering Natsuki, the other members of the Literature Club arrived for the usual after school meeting, first Yuri and then shortly after Monika, both apologizing for being tardy even though they weren't that late at all.
"Oh, Natsuki brought snacks?" Inquires Monika as she notices the muffin tray you had set down on a desk a couple of minutes ago. "Let's all have them before we do any reading or discussions today."
Sayori beams at the club president's words, having already polished off her first muffin and now eager for yet another. You didn't blame her, Natsuki was a great baker, but sheesh, with the way Sayori had inhaled it, you wondered if she even tasted it at all.
You try yet again to send Natsuki a warm smile in the hopes of cheering her up somehow, but she was still steadfastly pretending you didn't exist, apparently, and so your efforts were futile.
Resigned to your fate, you help Monika push some of the desks together to form a makeshift table that everyone settled down at, each club member taking a muffin for themselves and starting to dig in.
"No complaints, Sayori?" You hum after the first bite when you realize what the flavor of these particular muffins is.
Your energetic friend is probably eating too quickly to really notice, as you originally suspected, and she simply blinks at you, confused.
"What do you mean 'complaints'?" Natsuki pipes up sharply, though her voice is wavering which makes you think she actually cares quite a lot about what others- maybe even you in particular- think of her baking prowess.
You shake your head defensively, chuckling a little. "Don't shoot, don't shoot! It's just, they're blueberry. Sayori can be such a kid sometimes, so I-"
"Do you not like them?" Natsuki snaps, making you wish, not for the first time, that you could finish a sentence around these girls.
"Ah- nono, I do! It's really good! I just was- uhm-" You struggle to find the right words to defend yourself under her heated glare. Why was Natsuki taking everything you said so personally today?
"Y/N was only joking," Monika, bless her soul, steps in calmly with the patience of a saint to try and smooth out the situation before it was given the chance to escalate any further. "You know how they can be."
Wow, okay, ouch.
You dramatically place a hand over your heart. "Why, Monika! You wound me." And honestly, there was a teensy bit of truth buried and hidden underneath your dumb joke. Just because you liked to cover up any feelings of discontentment in an effort to find the tiniest semblance of humor in just about any scene of life didn't mean you went around purposely hurting the feelings of those around you. Or... did you? Shoot, now you weren't sure anymore.
Sayori laughs out loud at your over the top display, and you notice even Yuri is trying to hide a smile behind her muffin, her violet eyes almost unnerving with the way they follow your every movement.
But you aren't really paying attention to any of them at the moment, so much so that you don't even process Monika's reply. Your focus is purely on Natsuki.
She's not glaring directly at you anymore, but down at her hands which are clasped together in her lap.
You clear your throat; being serious wasn't your thing, but you still wanted to give it a try- for her. Softly, in the hopes of not letting the rest of the girl's overhear your words, you begin, "Natsuki, I..."
"It is strange, though." Yet again you are interrupted! If it had been Sayori, you would have been openly frustrated with her, but this time it's Yuri's shy self who has at last decided to share something of her thoughts with the group.
A beat of silence. “What’s strange?” Monika prompts when Yuri doesn’t continue her train of thought.
The violet-haired girl jolts a little, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. “Ah- just that- uhm- I was just thinking… Natsuki usually bakes cupcakes for us instead of muffins,” she explains timidly.
Huh. Weird observation, but Yuri kinda had a point.
Natsuki stiffens, sending a scowl in Yuri’s direction. “You don’t have to psychoanalyze literally everything, y’know. Life isn’t always like one of your dumb novels where you have to make up deeper meanings for when one doesn’t exist.”
You exchange a swift glance with Monika- lately, you and the club president had sort of been tag teaming helping each other lately to diffuse conflict within the Literature Club. Most often, the offenders were the same as the ones now: Natsuki and Yuri. Monika’s method of smoothing over issues was calmly and kindly, whereas you tended to take a more comedic route where angry grumbles could dissolve into grudging laughter.
Since it was technically your turn to step in and try to solve some conflict before either girl burst into tears, you interject with the first set-up for a joke that pops into your head.
“Heh, careful, Natsuki. I think you might give Yuri a new idea for one of her poems.” You face the taller girl as you continue, “Here, I’ll help you with the topic- ‘muffins- are they just ugly cupcakes?’ Yeah, just throw in some fancy language and stuff and-“
You can tell by everyone’s expressions that you’ve made a misstep somewhere here in your delivery, but then Yuri reaches up with one hand as she tries to mask her smile, and you’re intensely relieved you didn’t hurt her feelings.
Somehow, though, it seemed someone else was hurt.
Natsuki stood up abruptly from her chair, the sound of it’s metal legs grating on the floor causing you to wince. “Can you be serious for once?”
She doesn’t wait for your response, just turns on her heel to grab her cute pink backpack and then stalk out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
“Sheesh, what did I say….?” You sigh heavily, combing a hand through your hair. You were so frustrated with both yourself and Natsuki.
Sayori gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, already standing up to go check on Natsuki, but Monika’s timelessly intelligent emerald gaze was fixed on you with a thoughtfulness that seemed beyond her years, and it did not move away from you when she spoke to Sayori. “No, let’s have Y/N go and talk things out with her.”
You cringe. “Won’t that just make things worse?” You worry, shaking your head. “I mean, call me crazy, but I don’t think I’ll be getting an award for being her favorite person anytime soon, Monika…”
A faint smile crosses Monika’s face. “Mm, I think you’d be surprised. Just go and talk with her, and please hurry before you miss her. I’d hate to lose a club member, especially one as talented as Natsuki.”
You stand up, a bit alarmed by the assumption your club president was making here. What, just because of one little spat it was presumed Natsuki would quit the Literature Club altogether? That would never happen!
….Would it?
You weren’t keen on taking your chances of finding out, so you hastily made your exit from the classroom, looking around the school halls and seeing just a flash of pink disappear around the corner to your right.
You hurry after Natsuki, glancing around uncertainly- you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed to roam the halls like this after classes were over, even if you were in a club. Plus, it seemed like Natsuki wasn’t actually leaving the school building at all, she was heading for the roof.
You don’t call her name for fear of being reprimanded by some annoying teacher or other staff, so you kept quiet as you trailed after your friend up some flights of stairs; if she was aware of your presence, she said nothing- you were mostly sure that she would’ve snapped at you to go away if she had noticed you.
At last you make it to the door that went out to the roof of the school building, which had just closed behind Natsuki. Tentatively, you push it open as quietly as possible and take a small peek outside to survey the situation.
Natsuki is sitting on a small bench with her back still to you, her attention apparently fixed on the horizon.
“Wow, they have benches up here?” You ask, finally making your presence known as you step out onto the roof and allow the door to drift shut behind you.
Natsuki starts, glancing back over her shoulder to see you, and her eyes narrow when you offer her a hesitant smile. “If you’re here to apologize, you can just leave.” Her voice is sharp, but you can sense that she sounds almost, defeated in a way.
You shrug, wandering over to sit down next to her, looking towards the sky. “Good thing I wasn’t planning on apologizing, then.”
She huffs, purposely scooting away from you so that she was right on the edge of the bench. “Look, what makes you think I want your company?”
“I dunno. Maybe I just wanted to explain what I meant for my own sake. My reputation and all that?”
She purses her lips together. “Go ahead then,” she mutters wearily.
“I never mean to offend you or anybody else with my jokes. I just kinda, joke around a lot, it’s not something I ever even think about doing, it just happens.” You pause, sighing dramatically as if the weight of the world has been taken off of your shoulders. “Boy, it’s been so long since I’ve held onto that secret. “So… now it’s your turn.”
At last the pink-haired girl looks at you, mildly confused. “My turn to do what?”
“Share a secret,” you clarify playfully.
Natsuki immediately shakes her head, a brilliant blush painting her cheeks. “Wh- never!”
You laugh. “Okay, alright, point taken. How about this then: how was your day?”
Natsuki calms down somewhat, apparently actually considering your question. You realize she seems… sad, somehow. “It was… whatever.”
“Did you bake the muffins this morning or-?” You ask idly.
“No, last night.” She pauses, glancing away again to stare at the sky, and you got the sense she was somewhere else in her memories, not fully present with you on this school roof now. “I was… going to decorate them this morning, but then I just. Had to leave.”
“Ah, so you’re one of those tardy students, aren’t you?” You tease as gently as possible.
She exhales in a long, frustrated breath. “For your information, I got to school a few hours early actually.”
You have very few puzzle pieces of this mystery to try and fit together, and you wish she’d stop being so- mysterious about this whole thing. You hadn’t noticed before today, but you knew very little about Natsuki, aside from the facts that she liked manga (probably anime too), baking, writing, the color pink, cute things… you didn’t know anything at all about her home life. You’re tempted to ask just why she was so early, why she couldn’t decorate the muffins, but just as you’re trying to work up the courage and the right words, she saves you the trouble.
“My father…” She trails off, sounding uncharacteristically insecure for once, and her eyes seem too-bright, as if shining with unshed tears. She’s being very vulnerable with you right now, and you’re intensely worried you’re going to mess it up with her somehow, so you keep quiet and wait for her to continue. “He…”
Her voice catches in her throat, not allowing her to continue.
Instantly you lean closer to rest your hand on her hand, causing her to flinch in shock at the unexpected touch.
She gives you a look like she wants to be angry, but at the same time, she’s not pulling away from you.
You really, really don’t want to see her cry. Not Natsuki, the strong-willed, determined, fierce Natsuki. You’re unsure how to comfort people, so you go with what you know best.
In a perfectly serious tone and a straight-faced expression, you say, “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”
For a second, you’re about 80% sure she’s going to slap you right in the face.
But instead, something miraculous happens.
Natsuki giggles, and as she does so, tears streak down her cheeks.
“Oh God- I didn’t mean to-!”
“No, no!” She cuts you off, tugging her hand away from yours and swiping at her face to try and wipe the moisture from her eyes, a smile still tugging at her lips. “You’re- you’re fine- I mean! Not you, I meant that, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine…” She pauses, and you think this is the first time Natsuki has ever gazed at you with such softness.
Have you really made her feel better? You’re pretty proud of yourself for that one. You would like to tell her that she can talk to you about anything anytime, or that maybe she can hang out at your house whenever she can’t stand being at hers, but she speaks before you can.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Your jokes are terrible.”
You tilt your head to the side in confusion. Despite the insult, you can definitely hear the smile in her voice.
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firelxdykatara · 3 years
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I really like hearing your thoughts on ships, so I was just wondering what you thought about the episode 'Seeing Red' from Buffy as a Spuffy shipper. I love the ship too and remember being so uncomfortable watching that episode. It felt like it came out of no where while I was marathoning the show
Ok so, I’ve been sitting with this for a while (my inbox is telling me it’s been 10 days......time plz stop moving without me noticing), mostly because it’s... a really Touchy topic, for a lot of (very obvious, to anyone familiar with the episode or the arc) reasons.
CW for discussion of attempted sexual assault and rape ahead. (I’m gonna talk a bit about Willow too.)
First of all, I wanna state that I understand why Seeing Red was a ‘point of no return’ for many people. There are a lot of people for whom sexual assault/rape is The Thing they simply cannot get past and they could never see Spike or Spuffy the same again, and that’s valid and understandable. For me, personally, I don’t consider it any more or less reprehensible than murder or anything else vampires and demons get up to in the show because they’re monsters and very specifically Not Human, but at the same time it felt gratuitous and unnecessary (like the writers were trying to remind us Spike was really evil right before he went to get his soul back of his own accord, and I’ll talk a bit more about that later), and the episode itself is difficult to watch. (Also because it includes Tara’s death, which wrecks me to this day.)
It’s also been a very long time since I’ve seen the episode in question, mostly because I haven’t done a full rewatch in years, and when I do watch Buffy it’s either starting from the beginning and then losing track of where i was and starting over again, or else jumping to random episodes throughout the show which I enjoy and watching those by themselves (and Seeing Red is very much not on that list lol). So I rewatched it just to refresh my memory and....god there are a lot of other reasons I don’t care for this episode. (Xander was exceptionally horrific to Buffy re: finding out she was sleeping with Spike. Gods I dislike him more and more the older I get.)
In general, it’s just a really hard episode to watch. (And I’ll never forgive Joss for finally putting Amber Benson in the opening credits, only to kill her that same episode.) There’s a lot of ugliness, and the Trio are among the worst villains in the show--not in terms of how they’re written (they feel kind of terrifyingly realistic, although they also seem kind of exceptionally meta in light of how much has come out in the last decade about Joss Whedon’s own attitudes and behavior and treatment of women), but because every other big bad with very few exceptions has the excuse of being a soulless vampire or a demon or a hellgod or some other monster that can’t really help the fact that they were made that way. The Trio are just normal dudes who think they’re entitled to women and money and power and are willing to do absolutely anything to get all three, proving that maybe it isn’t really the presence or absence of a soul that actually makes humans, like, humane.
But that’s me side-tracking. As far as Spuffy goes, yeah, this episode is pretty brutal. There’s no mincing words here--Spike attempted to rape Buffy, and he only stopped and had his ‘oh my god, what have I done’ realization after she managed to kick him off. If she hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t have stopped. And I can almost understand it, from a writing perspective--how do you make a soulless vampire realize that he’s truly a monster and, further, how do you finally get him to want to change that? Make him cross a line he never had before. Except... that really wasn’t necessary. Not for his character arc, nor for his relationship with Buffy, and a part of me thinks that it was really intennded to just drive home the message that Spike was a monster, and that Buffy could never really love him, and the easiest way to communicate that was sexual violence, something that the show never really had its vampires engage in previously. So it would be a shock to the audience, it would throw Spike’s motives into question when he went to get his soul back, and it would make his presence in season 7 a constant question, plus provide a reason for Buffy not to trust him.
I think all of this could have been achieved without the sexual violence. I think the scene was largely done for shock value--again, to douse the audience with ice water and remind them that Spike, no matter how chummy he’d seemed with the Scoobies since getting chipped and eventually working with them, was still a monster. But we really didn’t need that reminder, and I think it would’ve made more sense for him to simply attempt to kill her--still a betrayal, still shocking, still something that could spur him into the actions he would take afterwards (going to get his soul restored), but without the exceedingly uncomfortable attempted rape scene in a season where there had already been serious issues with consent.
I’m talking, specifically, about Willow.
There’s something interesting I’ve noticed in fandom, and it’s that people really don’t seem to want to talk about or acknowledge the fact that Willow raped Tara. Maybe because it was via magic, rather than violence--or because it was never really called what it actually was in the narrative, or because they’re The Gay Ship of btvs, I don’t know. But she did--when she spelled Tara to forget about their serious fight which had been building for weeks, and then went to bed with her. And then explicitly had sex with her the next day. It’s part of why I’ve always had a complicated relationship with “Under Your Spell”--I love the song, but it’s also literally spelling out the fact that Tara’s mind had been violated by the woman she loved and she could not consent to sex while under the spell.
So that moment was already toeing the line in terms of consent and at least Tara was able to talk about how Willow violated her mind and how that made her feel (in song, at that), but Seeing Red was like a slap in the face. Where Willow’s magic addiction and willingness to cross those lines had been building for more than a year, Spike attempting to rape Buffy came out of nowhere. This isn’t a show that explored any really complicated relationship between vampires and consent (in The Vampire Diaries, for example, vampires have an ability called compulsion and compelling humans that they then have sex with is pretty normal and no one really blinks about it, human or vampire; it’s definitely still rape, but it’s not treated as anything particularly beyond the pale, because they’re vampires who can control the minds of their prey and don’t tend to consider the feelings of their food sources to be of any real importance), and while the vampires are hot and have sex, there’s never been any indication that they sexually assault humans in addition to feeding on them.
I think that specific scene in Seeing Red is the hardest to watch in the entire show. There’s really nothing like it in any other episode or with any other villain, and it has a tendency to sit in the back of the mind and sour feelings about Spike and Spuffy because it’s genuinely difficult to forget. I’m not sure if the intention was really to turn people off Spuffy (especially since he got his soul and came back in season 7 and Buffy forgave him and fell in love with him), but that was certainly the effect it had on a lot of people.
For me, personally, like I’ve said I don’t like the scene and I don’t think it was necessary, which is why I tend to ignore it as much as possible when I’m thinking about Spike and Buffy and their relationship. It’s a thing I know that happened, but I also know that I don’t think it was particularly fitting from a character perspective, and that makes it easy for me to file it away as sloppy writing and generally OOC, and move on. Again, I can definitely understand why some people can’t or don’t want to do that, but I also know that a lot of people continue to love Spike and Spuffy and I don’t think I’m alone in considering that moment to be OOC for him and generally try to ignore it in my meta and other analysis of the show.
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losille2000 · 3 years
Text
The Swan, Chapter 6
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TITLE: The Swan CHAPTER NUMBER: 6/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Tom/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sequel to The Ugly Duckling. Astrid embarks on a two-week trip to London to serve as her sister’s maid of honor, hoping against all hope she might miraculously run into her Hawaiian mystery man. When her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law drag her to a production of Hamlet to meet the groom’s best man, Astrid gets the shock of her life. The situation, though, is anything but perfect. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None in this chapter. AUTHORS NOTES: So... what can I say? It's been a while. If you want the whole story, you can look through my blog or message me. I'm happy to answer. That said, it's been a good three years since I did any serious writing. My writing muscles need to build back up to what they were before. Please be kind... and let me know what you think. :D
Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ALSO ON AO3!
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Chapter 6 - Flying the Coop
Regret.
Astrid regretted ever stomping up those stairs to Tom’s bedroom. She regretted challenging him to make a move. She regretted letting him have his way with her. In the moment, it seemed right. Maybe if they slept together again, they’d find an incompatibility, especially now that the air of tropical mystery had dissipated and left in its place two broken flesh-and-blood people.
How wrong could she have been?
Now it was amplified, deeper, hotter, engulfing.
Only two weeks for whatever this fire was to fizzle?
It wasn’t, as the Brits say, bloody likely.
And here she was, smack dab in the position she didn’t want to be in; no matter how tangentially her current association with her mother, the family business, and Hollywood was, being connected to Tom in this way presented too many problems to even consider at this point. And fucking him—
“Astrid, are you even listening to me?”
Astrid jumped from the intrusion, letting out a slight squeak. She blinked hard and turned in her spot to look at her sister, who stood in the middle of the furnished but unoccupied flat. “Sorry?”
“Are you okay?” Tilde asked. “You’ve been spacey after the dress shop— and I’m just worried.”
“You don’t need to worry.”
“Let me worry,” she begged. “Let me be the big sister I never got to be.”
Astrid laughed ruefully. If only she could actually talk with Tilde about Tom. She wouldn’t understand, or at the very least, it could pose some very difficult situations in the coming days with the wedding right around the corner. But, Astrid guessed, Tilde meant the other elephant in the room... Astrid being the elephant, and their mother being a Class A narcissist. Because there was absolutely no way Tilde would know about what had happened at Tom’s home...
“It’s too late for that, Tilde,” Astrid said. “You know I love you. I just— there’s no changing her.”
Tilde grumbled and glided over to the couch in the living room. She dropped down on top of the cushions, barely displacing the pillow stuffing with her slight ballet-formed frame. “I should have never allowed her to do all this. I should have done it on my own, it’s not like Jim and I are so hard up. But I thought...”
Astrid held up a hand to stop her sister and sat on the couch more gingerly than Tilde, measuredly, so as not to displace any stuffing in the overstuffed couch, either. Something her mother had taught her, after all: If you’re not going to put in effort to look like a lady, you can at least act like one.
God, even that memory still hurt, down to the marrow in her bones.
“But you did.” Astrid shrugged and laid her head on the back of the couch. There, she sighed.
The sisters sat in silence for some time, listening to Duchess rooting around the flat for something to chew on. When the pug found nothing, she eventually jumped up onto the couch and snuggled into Tilde’s lap.
Astrid cleared her throat. “It’s not all Mom, either. I’m just tired from jet lag and getting everything together for the house party.”
And sleeping with the Best Man. She was pretty sure she’d read a romance novel or a hundred about this situation once. Did that make her a cliché?
“Oh, I meant to ask,” Tilde interjected. “How did that go? Tom was a total tool last night and I was worried about today.”
Astrid licked her lips subconsciously; she could still taste the sugar left by a bite of tiramisu Tom had given to her on a fork. If she concentrated hard enough, she was sure she could still taste the salt of his skin mixed in with it. She could certainly feel the tight muscle in her thigh that pulled every time she shifted, from the way he’d bent it and held it firmly in place as he’d had his way with her.
Frankly, it was a miracle they’d accomplished anything after they ended up in bed. But, she supposed, that was the weirdest part about the whole afternoon. They got out of bed, dressed without speaking and just... worked on what they needed to for the party. There was no discussion. No arguing. Tom stayed a respectable distance from her; she wasn’t sure if she had really wanted him to do it again, over and over, until they were both exhausted. They ate lunch quietly, they got everything organized and packed into his Land Rover, then Tilde showed up and they bade farewell, like it was something they did every day.
Nothing more was said about Hawaii, or a relationship, or lies, or having this end in two weeks. He seemed to be ignoring the topics all together, likely in the misguided belief that if he didn’t bring it up, then everything was fine. She ignored them because discussing WHY she refused to become a true part of his life was too painful.
Astrid pursed her lips and closed her eyes again. Isn’t that what she told him she wanted, though? To feel worshipped and then go about their lives, like nothing happened? Ignore all the elephants and enjoy the sex. No emotion, only sex. He was just following her demands, his need too great to put the brakes on their interlude in his bed.
The problem was that she did want more with him. She wanted emotion and relationships and rainbows and butterflies. When she had thought of him as some wealthy businessman she might once again bump into while visiting London, this had been possible. She had, after all, imagined a reality over the last eighteen months that included falling in love with him and living a life together.
But he wasn’t a businessman. He was an actor. He ran in circles she just couldn’t stomach anymore.
“It was fine. We finished everything and packed it all into his Land Rover for the drive up to Cliveden,” Astrid finally said. “The costume deliveries will be there when we arrive.”
“This really has gotten out of control,” Tilde said. “Part of me just wants to run to the register office and get it over with.”
Astrid shook her head violently. “You do that, and I’ll flip the fuck out. I put too much work into this.”
Tilde laughed. “Scared you, huh?”
“I’m serious, Tilde,” Astrid said, lightly smacking her sister’s thigh. Duchess popped her head up, and thinking it was an invitation for her, came over to her aunt. Astrid cuddled the dog close to her chest, breathing in her freshly bathed fur.
“She likes you,” Tilde said.
Astrid kissed Duchess’ head. “Small children and dogs, apparently.”
Tilde chuckled softly before letting out a long sigh. “I bet she would really like it if her Aunt Astrid were around more.”
“Aunt Astrid is a teacher and never has any time,” she replied directly to Duchess. Duchess reached for the hand that had stopped petting her and touched it with her paw. Her imploring buggy pug eyes asked Aunt Astrid for more.
Tilde huffed, but said nothing more for a long time. Then she cleared her throat. “How do you like the flat, anyway?”
“It’s nice,” Astrid confirmed. In fact, it was nicer than “nice.” This flat looked like one of those staged ads in a real estate magazine with lots of recessed lighting, soft gray colors, top-of-the-line furnishings and a ton of space.
“We’re trying to decide if we’ll sell it or keep it as an investment property,” Tilde replied. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass as a rental property, though.”
Astrid nodded. “You could just give it to Dad’s company to manage.”
Not that doing so was a great option, either.
If Astrid saw her mother irregularly, she saw her father even less. After their separation, he spent time in Las Vegas developing a new casino concept and then, when Astrid graduated from UNLV, moved his business operations permanently back to Sweden. Still, though, the relationship with her father was better than it was with her mother, simply by virtue that he was never around and didn’t have an opportunity to find the weaknesses in her armor like her mother. Tilde rarely spoke about either parent, but Astrid was certain their relationship was similar.
Tilde sat up and turned to look at Astrid seriously. “Or you could move into it.”
“Excuse me?” Astrid said, her heart skipping a few beats, from a sudden surge of anxiety and... something else.
“I’m serious, Astrid,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough and I want to spend time with you and make up for all those years we were apart.”
This wasn’t just some passing fancy. Astrid could see that as plain as day on Tilde’s face. Her sister was determined to convince her to move to London. But for what? She had no support system other than Tilde and James... and her career... well, that was back in Las Vegas.
Not that Las Vegas itself was the most amazing place to live and work.
“I’d never see you anyway,” Astrid argued. “You’re always rehearsing, or preparing to rehearse, or performing. And god knows James is going to be busy doing whatever.”
“Yeah, about that...” Tilde said, trailing off quietly. She picked at the dog hair on her sweater for a few seconds, then slowly looked back at Astrid. “I’m retiring at the end of this season.”
“What?!”
Tilde shrugged. “James and I want a family, and if I wait until it’s a ‘good time,’ it’ll never happen because of our schedules. And really, it’s getting harder and harder to come back from injuries and such. I just... I need a long break from being a performing ballerina. I don’t have the fire I once had, the same will to fight for every goddamn role.”
Astrid simply nodded. This was huge news. Ballet was Tilde’s life. She’d been doing it since she was a little girl, had impeccable skill and training and talent for it. The joke was that Tilde had come out of the womb in pointe shoes.
Which wasn’t that far from the truth, really. As soon as their mother could, she’d gotten Tilde into dance with the best instructors money could buy. Their mother, the failed ballerina, always lived through them. Which explained why she did not like anything about Astrid— Astrid did not have anything that would benefit her.
“Have you told Mom yet?” Astrid asked.
Tilde shook her head. “Of course not! And listen to her prattle on about how I’m a failure and she gave me so much and I’m just a terrible person? No, thank you. I’ll wait until she is permanently back in LA before I tell her.”
Even though Tilde had not yet told anyone else, it somehow eased the tension in Astrid’s shoulders knowing that Tilde would be in their mother’s crosshairs for a change. Typically, that wasn’t the case; their parents always treated Tilde like the perfect golden child. Of course, Tilde had always been one of Astrid’s fiercest allies… when she could. However, since Tilde spent most of her life in London studying at the Royal Ballet from a very early age, support and camaraderie had been scarce. Now, though? Now it felt like she and Tilde could weather the storm together.
Tilde continued, “Yeah. I’m thinking about opening up a dance studio and then after the baby thing happens, if I still have the performing bug in me, then I’ll start guesting. But I’m just so excited to start having babies.”
Stopping the smile from forming on Astrid’s lips was impossible as she registered the excitement on Tilde’s face. Astrid felt the enthusiasm coming from Tilde’s corner of the couch. “I’m excited for you, Tilde.”
And she was. She truly was.
Tilde reached out and grabbed Astrid’s hand. “I’m serious, though, Astrid. We never had a great family growing up, and I see this as an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and create the family we should have had growing up.”
“I don’t know, Til.”
“James and I have both talked about it a lot and we both agree.”
“Tilde, even if I did move here,” Astrid began, “I don’t know the first thing about teaching in England.”
Tilde nodded. “I know. But James’ parents are retired teachers. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you make heads or tails of it.”
Astrid pursed her lips and turned to stare at the dormant fireplace sitting in front of them. Duchess, who had not moved, made happy dog purr noises as Astrid massaged the tiny velvet triangles of her ears. To be fair to Tilde, Astrid had often thought of moving to London to be nearer to her, but she never thought it would happen or that Tilde would actually need or want her here. The fact that she was wanted made emotion spring to her eyes and prick at them until they watered.
But then, there was the other issue.
The really, super, ginormous issue that came in the shape of a devastatingly handsome British man she met on vacation. If she moved to London, she’d certainly be seeing him more. No clean break at the end of two weeks like she hoped.
“And, you know,” Tilde said, “London’s arts scene is stupendous. We have the hook-up. I thought you could get back into it. You can hardly do that in Las Vegas.”
Astrid snorted. “Tilde, that part of my life is over.”
“Why? You’re amazing. I remember the video you sent of your college production of Othello. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”
While Tilde’s appreciation for her talent warmed Astrid’s heart, it didn’t take away the sting of her mother’s actions. Astrid couldn’t even bring herself to discuss it with Tilde when it first happened, much less in the intervening eight years since the incidents that led to her total disavowal of all things acting related. Her silence on the matter, though, had finally come home to roost. First with Tilde telling Tom she was still an actor, and Tom calling her a liar because she told him she wanted nothing to do with it. And now, with Tilde staring her down imploringly. Tilde wanted answers just as much as Tom did, except for very different reasons.
Astrid could not force her suddenly leaden tongue to move in her mouth. Tilde would just have to live with not knowing the whole story, for now. Finally, she said, “If I move to London, I’m not going to be acting.”
“Well, I guess I’ll take that,” Tilde replied. “As long as you’ll still consider moving here to be with me.”
A knock at the front door startled them all, sending Duchess barking and wheezing to the door. The door opened and James popped his head inside. “Knock knock.”
“Come in!” Tilde sang back to him, jumped from her seat, and nearly leaped over the back of the couch to get to him like he was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely. For a brief, possibly irrational, moment, Astrid was jealous of her sister and the relationship she had built with James.
Which wasn’t a great feeling to have if the plan was to spend more time with them. How could she uproot her entire life— leave her students and friends— and move halfway across the globe just to be consumed by the green-eyed monster?
“Babe,” Tilde said, “tell Astrid she needs to move to London.”
James laughed and turned to look at Astrid. “Astrid… you need to move to London.”
“Thank you!” Tilde pecked his cheek and pirouetted in place until she was facing away from him. She started walking back toward the bedroom. “Let me go get my purse and we can get going.”
When Tilde was gone, and the flat was mostly silent except for more of Duchess’ puggy wheezing as she calmed, James’ smile dropped into a stony seriousness. He stepped over to her and quietly murmured, “We would love to have you here, Astrid. But I understand if you don’t want to come. The decision has to be yours, and if you decide not to move, I will handle Tilde.”
Astrid was grateful for James’ level-headedness in the situation. In the short time she’d known the man, she found that he was a gifted reader of rooms. That was why he was so good with Tilde— a steady anchor in a turbulent sea. Clearly, he understood the anxiety twisting her stomach into knots.
She set a grateful hand on his arm and squeezed appreciatively. “Thanks, James.”
“And don’t let my association with Tom cloud your judgement,” James said.
Astrid withdrew her hand like he’d burned it. Her eyes snapped up to his, then focused outward on the rest of his features and body language. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Tom must have told James, despite that she asked him not to.
Unless Tom had told James last night…
“How do you...” She trailed off, turning her gaze and trying to hide her blush.
“He’s my best man for a reason. We tell each other everything,” James replied. “I had hoped that your work today would allow you some time to figure things out before more of this wedding commenced and caused a problem.”
Astrid gulped. “Does Tilde know?”
James shook his head silently.
“Good,” Astrid replied. Good for two reasons, really. The first, because it confirmed for her that the invitation to come to London wasn’t Tilde playing matchmaker. The second, because she still didn’t want anybody to know about it. “Wait… how much did he tell you?”
James stared back at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “That would be breaking the Code.”
Her face now completely aflame, Astrid bent down and grabbed Duchess into her arms. She couldn’t even look at the man anymore without feeling embarrassed. Hopefully, it would pass quickly.
“Bad news!” Tilde called from the hallway as she came back into the room. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the screen of her iPhone. “Mother decided we needed an all hands on deck dinner tonight.”
Astrid groaned. “In addition to or replacing the one tomorrow night at Cliveden?”
“In addition to,” Tilde said. “Tom can’t make it tonight because he has the cast party, and Dad isn’t even in England yet, so that’ll be the official one. Tonight is probably just more nitpicking.”
“Do we have to?” Astrid whined.
Tilde sighed heavily and dropped her phone into her purse with agitation. “Strength in numbers, dear sister.”
Her sister's proclamation made the summons to dinner no better, but Astrid and James dutifully followed Tilde out of the flat and out to the car. The only saving grace was that Tom wouldn't be there. Astrid could focus on one problem, not two.
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dex-xe · 3 years
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BBC Ghosts x Eurovision
No one asked for this (and I’ve already seen a few people discussing this but haven’t seen anyone go into much detail) but here are some headcanons about the ghosts watching Eurovision 2021!! Eurovision has been one of my special interests since I was a little kid so combining it with my current special interest just seems right!!
(Also pls comment your own headcanons or even better send them to my inbox AND also send new headcanon topics for us to chat about cause I’ve missed doing that!!)
- Firstly it’s definitely Mike’s doing,, Alison jokes it’s a bit tacky and kinda cringe and Mike is *deeply* offended insisting the tack is what makes it fun.
- Alison also really enjoys it but also enjoys teasing Mike about his affinity
- Alison shows the ghosts a few YouTube clips of old years
- Kitty, Mary, and Humphrey are all well up for watching straight away,, also Pat but we’ll talk about him in a minute.
- Robin doesn’t really get the point (countries are a stupid idea according to him so having a country based competition where people actually get serious about it is just daft).
- Thomas and Fanny both hate the clips they’re shown and call it the “lowest form of entertainment” they’ve ever seen.
- The Captain is also above it... or so he says but he finds his foot tapping along to Emmilie De Forest and is *horrified* at himself
- Julian is straight away racist,, a comment here about EU bureaucracy, another snipe there about Russia. Alison shuts his complaining down very quickly and tells him he can’t say anything he wouldn’t be happy someone saying about the UK or else his phone privileges will be taken away.
- Pat is the only ghost who has seen Eurovision before (Julian has always refused on principle).
- He used to watch it with his family and put on a proper spread for everyone (cause we all know Pat was the family cook). I’m talking mini sausage rolls, tiny sandwiches, a cheese and pineapple hedgehog (totally not what my family does for Eurovision every year... hmmm) and then also a trifle cause it’s the most English pudding ever and you gotta support the home side.
- (I’m hungry,, can you tell??)
- Once Alison has explained to them how the show works, most of them agree to watch - Thomas once he learns of the beautiful women competing and Fanny the same with the men.
- The Captain however begins taking it very seriously once he starts to realise the tactical elements of it,, while he likes the performances, he spends the entire afternoon rewatching previous years scoring segments making mental notes of what gets support and who votes for who.
- The evening comes round and everyone gathers to watch in the TV room.
- The second the flag parade starts everyone is engrossed - even Fanny can marvel at the spectacle of it.
- (I’m not gonna talk about every performance cause Jeez that’s long but here are what I think everyone’s favourites would be.
- Robin really loves Finland and Italy,, anything loud and rocky he’s straight up off the floor and jumping along (same Robin, same) but he falls completely silent and watches in awe at the Spanish entry because of the giant moon (he then also asks Alison to buy a huge moon for the living room - she’s says she’ll think about it).
- Kitty is fully rooting for Malta - Lizzo girlboss vibes is what Kitty lives for. It’s also helped that Alison expressed quite an interest for that one as well.
- Thomas is expecting to like the pretty girls but absolutely falls for Switzerland straight away. Curly haired, blouse-wearing emotional guy with incredibly dramatic dancing is just 😍😍 for him (same Thomas,, can’t decide if he’s very attractive or if it’s gender envy or what??).
- Julian supports the UK... he thinks the song is shit but cannot bring himself to compliment anyone else.
- Pat is an Iceland kind of guy (ily dadi,, you were robbed #eurovision2020winners) and he fully finds himself trying to dance along, smiling all the way through their performance. He likes the weirder ones,, the ones were everyone is clearly just having a blast.
- Humphrey likes the emotional ones,, Bulgaria is a favourite. Righttttt up until France - he picked up a little French from his wife, enough to figure out what Barbara’s talking about and is just in tears by the end.
- Mary actually finds herself enjoying the more folky, traditionally European ones. This comes back to my Morris/folk dancing Mary so I feel like she’d appreciate like Ukraine and Russia - also for the like strong woman aesthetic.
- Fanny is abhorred by the outfits and music but does join Julian in his reluctant support of the UK, she instead prefers to mutter her abuses of the skimpy outfits to the Captain.
- The Captain is also drawn in by the emotional ones like Humphrey, specifically France again. However, a shaggy and shirtless Damiano David jumping about the place in eyeliner and tight trousers awakens something in him he didn’t know was there. He’s horrified by the group and the loudness and the outfits and everything but is also very much intrigued in a way that disturbs him.
- Mike also likes Italy quite a bit cause he’s an Arctic Monkeys/Killers kinda guy (he is,, don’t @ me cause me tooooo Mike) and Alison tends to agree with him but also, like I said, agrees with Kitty on the girl power ones.
- Once the scoring starts, the ghosts start getting noisier and talking amongst themselves about the acts and who they would vote for (they’re not allowed to vote cause Alison refuses to pay for her dead housemates to get a vote each).
- The Captain edges closer to the TV as the others talk over his beloved scoring system, completed overshadowing the research the Captain has done.
- It ends with the Captain sat cross legged in front of the TV with Humphrey in his lap explaining precisely what was happening to Humphrey.
- When it gets towards the end everyone hushes up and they all watch as Italy win. Most of them celebrate.
- Fanny is greatly disturbed by the winners and laments the state of music these days. The Captain vocally agrees but also can’t draw his eyes from the screen.
- Julian has some very choice words for the public for giving the UK a big fat 0.
- Kitty says she’s just glad that everyone had a good time and enjoyed their performances. She also wishes that she could go to the show (don’t we all).
But yeah that’s my collection of headcanons for Eurovision,, once again proving I am a massive nerd who spends too much time putting together little stories.
Anyway,, if you have any more Eurovision headcanons feel free to comment them or send them to my inbox so I can reply and add to them. Similarly, if you have any other shows/music/events/literally anything that you think I should make ghosts headcanons for or that you have hcs for then send them over to my inbox as well!! Love yall stay safe, drink some water if you’ve managed to read this far :)
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canyouhearthelight · 3 years
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The Miys, Ch. 140
And here we have the last chapter of the Food Festival!  This is one part I was pretty excited to write - The Closing Costume Party.  I wouldn’t have been able to get this one squared away without @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog... Both of you caught a few things I didn’t that kept it from making sense from a reader perspective. So thank you both, very much.
I growled softly to myself as I twisted my arms behind my back to pull on my costume. Normally, I was more than flexible enough, but the amount of leverage I needed right now just wasn’t happening unless I was willing to seriously dislocate something. Dropping my hands, I frowned as I jiggled my arms a little to work feeling back into my elbows.
“You really should have fitted this sooner than now,” Conor laughed against the back of my head as he pulled the laces tight on the blood-red corset.  Getting one made while laying low and avoiding Hannah had been a nightmare, but it was going to be worth it. I just knew it.
“You just wanted to see me try this entire costume on sooner,” I joked as I felt everything fit snugly - but not too tightly - into place.
Maverick flicked a lock of my hair over my shoulder and positioned it just-so. “It’s not his fault that you couldn’t fit this over your scrubs and have it work for tonight.”
“Who wants to see a corset over scrubs?” I scrunched my nose at the thought while smoothing my sleeves and adjusting my collar. “So far so good?” I asked, slightly louder.
As a credit to their maturity regarding the matter, both men looked me over earnestly before glancing at each other. Conor finally broke the silence. “Aren’t the slits in the skirt a bit… high?”  Maverick whispered in his ear, and an expression of utter comprehension glowed on his face. “Oh! That’s… Love, that’s clever.”
I grinned hard enough to cramp my jaw. “Thank you.”  Despite how daring the outfit looked, there was exactly zero chance of any wardrobe malfunctions more serious than a hole in my stockings  - a near-indestructible nude bodysuit under everything made sure of that.
“Your turn, now,” Maverick insisted, eliciting a groan from Conor, who he had turned toward while brandishing eyeliner.
“Isn’t it bad enough I let the two of you do this?” He gestured at his hair, which was styled within an inch of his life and would sustain an EF4 tornado with minimal loss of glitter.
“Nope,” I popped, still smiling as I sat down to put on my boots.  Parvati and Hannah had envisioned tonight to be a sort of return-to-our-roots in a very feral, primitive way, complete with costumes. “We’ve been imagining since before we could cook,” Hannah had pointed out.  Between that and the multiple hints that I wasn’t capable of costuming myself, I had gone a bit more over the top than I had originally planned. Hence the corset, the boots, Conor’s hair… although the leather pants the guys were wearing had been decidedly Maverick’s idea and I resisted the need to fall at his feet in gratitude.
Once we were finally costumed, we managed to arrive just-fashionably late to the last hurrah of the Festival. I don’t know who gaped harder - us at the party, or the people who managed to recognize me when they saw me leading the men in. Parvati’s incredible, winding mural was noticeably weathered and patchy, giving the overall atmosphere a post-apocalyptic feel.  The only noticeable lighting came from the braziers, and deep, almost subsonic music thumped in my chest, driving my adrenaline just high enough to overwhelm my anxiety.
My nose led us over to the first stall of the night, the smell of charring meat fitting the tone. Per a previous discussion around our costumes, I did not reach for anything but instead Conor took my portion and fed it to me - his idea, this time, though Maverick had readily agreed. It was just enough to set off a few murmurs before I heard a familiar laugh cut through the air.
“Councillor Reid!” Jokul’s voice crowed, turning our heads his direction. Warmly, he clasped my hands when offered, trembling with the laughter he was trying to suppress. “This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise.”
I took a moment to take in his fur trousers and tunic, with rough metal covering vital areas. “The dirt is a nice touch,” I offered, squeezing his hands in greeting. “And Ivan! Well done, sir!”
Ivan rubbed the freshly-buzzed back of his head and grinned. “He actually already had the furs, I just made the armored parts.”
“I meant all of it,” I admonished softly, waving at his work throughout the event.
“Antique, yeah?” Conor asked, gesturing to the furs both of them were wearing.
To his credit, Jokul scoffed. “Absolutely not. Quality synthetic.”
“Don’t let Hannah find out.”
A silver brow arched high enough to impress even Tyche. “Who do you think I commissioned?”
“Clever boy.” I winked at Ivan, eliciting a grin.
In response, Ivan did a runway-twirl, his fur kilt flaring just slightly. “What do you think, Councillor? Can I pull it off?”
With the cheekiest grin my soul could ever manifest, I stared him down. “I think I am the wrong person to ask that.”  Even in the dim light, I could see Jokul’s face turn bright red.
“I smell goat,” Maverick interrupted, entirely off topic and completely unabashed.
Ivan’s nose twitched. “Oh, you’re right!” Sniff, sniff. “And it’s on a spit! Let’s find it before it’s gone!”
With that, he snagged Jokul’s wrist and dragged him less like he was an easily two-hundred pound man and more like he was a kite.  When I snickered, my former enemy leaned over and murmured “I like the chains, very nice touch.”
I shook the wrist that connected to Conor’s belt and whispered conspiratorially. “Your idea, really.  You were so convinced I was leading the entire Ark like this…”
He had the decency to snort. “Seeing it in reality, I was a complete idiot. But it’s quite poetic, and I like it.”
“Poetic?” I asked as I tried to keep pace in the six-inch heels I had elected to wear.
“Are they chaining you down, or are you leading them by their gonads? Or, perhaps, are they saving you from yourself?” He gave a very pointed look at the delicate chains going from the shackles on my wrists to the links attached just above Maverick’s and Conor’s hips.
“Saving me, definitely.” My confession was unashamed and completely sober, the result of the primal music and smells surrounding me.
“Gods agree, someone needs to.”
I didn’t have time to argue before we arrived at the source of the enticing smell - a Jamaican barbecue vendor, who had oxtails, saltfish, and…
“Grilled goat!” Ivan crowed triumphantly. As he started handing out portions from the dancing, grinning vendor, he raised an eyebrow when he noticed that the portion he tried to hand to me was intercepted by Maverick first, and then fed to me rather than feeding myself.
“Not my idea,” I managed around an insanely delicious bite. “Swear.”
“Kink tomato,” he insisted, holding up his hands.
Conor almost choked laughing. “Not our kink either, mate. Just set dressing for the Queen over here.” Taking another bite, he winked at me.
“Ah, Conor’s idea then,” Jokul nodded sagely before erupting in the closest thing to a girlish squeal I could imagine coming from him. “Miss Harper, we’ve been looking for you!”
Shit, I thought to myself. I hadn’t thought of what Charly would say when I discussed this idea with Conor and Maverick, and I was just realizing it was a monumental oversight.  Plastering a smile on my face, I turned in the direction Jokul had shouted - 
Only to be confronted with what looked like a fox with antlers, a rakish Anansi, the Queen of the Dead, a blind healer, and… a walking shrine? I wasn’t sure what exactly Arthur was dressed as, but I could clearly identify a shabby tweed suit, his sword, a tome that I hoped was faux-moldy, breastplate, shin guards, along with various tchotchkes that looked like they came from high-schoolers and were a bit too beat up to be faked.
“Arthur, what are you?” I asked. Where anyone else would find it rude, I knew my bluntness would be either appreciated or ignored entirely.
“The Ghost of Classes Past.” He swept into a near-Shakespearen bow, gesturing at the bits and bobs that adorned him. “Humans protect, and we mourn those we could not to ensure they live on in memory.” The thump of the music did not change, but his costume gave it a sepulchral tone, like a dying heartbeat.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, the antlered fox bounced familiarly before looking at the Queen of the Dead. “You did a fantastic job on their costumes! They look amazing!” Her antlers were, of course, somehow illuminated from below, but damn me if I could figure out how.
Despite the fact that I knew damned well that Tyche wanted to erupt into laughter at the suggestion, she managed to, quite impressively, tamp it down to a savage smile of silver fangs and blood-red lips. Flapping a hand at myself, Conor, and Maverick, she gave her bell-like fake-laugh, fully in character. “Oh, I had nothing to do with this. Darling Sophia and her merry toys conceived it all on their own.  This is the first time I’ve even seen it, darling.” She turned to me, tipping her chin down in respect. “Well done, dearest sister.” Tyche was on peak display, with kohl lining her glowing grey eyes, a black bodysuit covering her from  collar to feet, fitted vest and cardigan vest, all partnered with a skirt that could be ten inches thick or ten miles of ribbon - who knew with all the darting and layers? Not me, but I was surely impressed with what looked like ten miles of black feathers flowing from her waist to her hips.
“Why, thank you, Your Majesty.” I swept my leg back in a daring curtsy, forcing Conor and Maverick to smother their laughter at Jokul and Ivan’s faces.
“Ma’am! Ma’am ma’am ma’am!” Charly demanded as she pulled me upright. “You blushed at the concept of kink night, and here I find you leading your men around by their hips!”
I tossed my hair and winked at Jokul. “They aren’t being led, they are saving me from myself.” To Charly’s credit, I did look one deep breath from embarrassment - a black dress with red trim, sliced from floor to ribs and collar to navel, over what appeared to be just fishnet stockings and cavalier boots. The only thing, visibly, retaining any sort of deceny was the corset sealing me in the dress. To go with it, I sported chunky, silver cuffs chained to both Maverick and Conor. Ducking in, I whispered, “I probably will have to be cut out of this bodysuit, no worries on me flashing anyone.”
“Ooooo… well played, madam, well played,” she cheered, twirling me around, forcing both men to pivot with me, laughing, before  giving me a very concerned look. “How fucking tall are those?” This was clearly directed at my heels, which she was staring at like a shark presented with a steak.
“Six,” I admitted. “But I did pointe ballet for a little while, so… This isn’t that bad.”
Maverick ducked into the center of the circle we formed. “They’re a full size too big to allow for swelling and she has the toe boxes lined with impact foam.”
“How the hell else am I supposed to wear these things?” I asked with a glare that had him standing ramrod straight and barely restraining a laugh.
Tyche, to her credit, patted my shoulder. “While sitting.  Or, if you have to stand, with a platform in the toe.”
“No shit,” I hissed, setting the mummified healer doubling over in laughter. “But I’ve done enough damage to my feet, thank you, so… there may be foot braces involved.” One of which was currently digging in just in front of my heel, which I made a mental note to pass on to the development team.
A thick, French accent set me shaking my head when it came from the very-not-French looking mummy. “Well played, Sophia.  The sling and calf brace design I saw recently get approved by medical?”
I groaned as I realized that of course this was Antoine. Life and Death, forever partnered. “Yesssss,” I hissed. “Grey created the design.” I unzipped one boot down far enough to roll it below my knee, exposing braces above and below the kneecap before running further down. “The weight is distributed throughout the leg, before terminating across the front and back of the arch of the foot, to even out the pressure.”
I could almost see numbers whirling beneath the six-foot-plus candy-pink bowler hat. “That… sounds like it might actually be comfortable,” Coffey intoned. I couldn’t help but grin at the tilt of his hat and the feather arching behind him.
“More comfy than actual heels, yes,” I admitted before deflecting attention as far from me as possible. Which, considering how much weight was normally put on the ball of the foot in heels like this, wasn’t a lie…. “But we aren’t here for this! We’re here for food!”
Cheers erupted, and we set off dragging each other to what bits we had discovered.  The theme of the night was firmly set around protein, grilled if possible, with wicks of smoke dancing through the flickering light along with the thump of the music.  Some were spicy, others unexpectedly sweet. As I laughed, and ate, and sweated, and danced, I could freely admit that there was exactly zero percent chance that I would have imagined this in my wildest dreams. And even better? I could enjoy every second, every smell, every beat of the music. I made a point to wink at each camera I could spot, to the point that, first Tyche, and then everyone else felt the need to comically push down my thumbs-up and cover my face.
Clearly, Parvati and Hannah, who I hadn’t seen all night, were monitoring what they would later discover to be a flying pass on their final exam. 
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yknow while this hellsite continues on the whole religion discussion thing, i’d like to jump in on it with my experience particularly with leaving catholic school.
like aside from my angsty pop-punk/emo etc teen phase (which’ll obvs be weaved into story later on) that led me to have different views from the church and aside from the whole sexism thing that i endured over my year 10 formal/junior prom in 2010 and 2011 from staff there….. i found it within myself incredibly hard to leave there… mostly because i’d known literally 1/3 of my year group at catholic school since kindy/kindergarten or some other point in primary school.
this affected my choice to leave and it was quite tumultuous inwardly. knowing the safety and predictably of the people i was with for all those years was a comfort to me. i knew their parents due to parent mixer bbqs that we’d have after mother’s day and father’s day liturgies- although i hated the mother’s day ones mostly, due to personal reasons. but to leave that comfortable place for overly loyal, kinda sorta shy (although everyone who knew me at that school wouldn’t’ve described me as shy bc i was a very loud show off because of drama class 😅) and by year 10, very lonely, highly socially anxious and depressed, teen me was terrifying. it meant losing her friends and stability and she obvs hated that thought. it meant leaving the one one place she ever felt good at something, drama class.
obviously, after she did leave for public school, she visited the catholic school on a few separate occasions, to try and keep the connection “alive” or whatever the fuck she wrote in a fake deep status on her fb (that i now get in my fb memories every year lmao). but it all ended pretty badly, when everyone from that school stopped talking to her once high school finished. no one invited her out. or if people did try to invite her out, like a couple of people did, it always fell through…. and it made her feel like she was just a bad luck charm or whatever other low self esteem talk she was telling herself. there was quite a few moody statuses around that too lmao.
but yeah. leaving catholic school was a massive thing for me back then, because even though i hadn’t gone to church on sunday for literal Y E A R S at that point; i still had a strong pull to that school because i’d known SO MANY kids at that school from primary/elementary/grade etc school, regardless of their year group level. because if there’s one thing catholic school was good at, it was networking 😂. you knew everyone, and everyone knew you. it was safe, it was sound, so i didn’t want to leave.
but once you leave, you lose your friends and what almost felt like an extended family (although they obvs weren’t). but at the same time, i’d grown to hate the safety and almost insularity of the school, because as i mentioned earlier, you felt like you could predict how people would react or behave in class/events etc.
i felt the above distinctly, because as i’ve mentioned plenty on here, from years 7-10 i was a very emotionally demonstrative kid. in some classes (mostly religion and PE when i was bothered to participate) i’d end up in shouting matches with the teacher or other students…. or y’know just have a casual meltdown in the middle of class, which many people saw as “attention seeking” behaviour. i felt watched, i felt ready to snap, and to quote the ever present All Time Low i felt like the bridge lyrics from “therapy” (which was/is quite obviously somewhat partially about the price of fame and hollywood imo- but that went over teen me’s head at the time lmao):
“arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to, they’re better off without you (better off without you). arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to, they’ll fall asleep without you; you’re lucky if your memory remains”
like yes. i’ll admit those bridge lyrics being applied to this time is rather overdramatic, in hindsight, but hey. that was teen me for ya lmao. and don’t even get me started on applying ATL’s song “sick little games” to this at the time as well 😂😅. anyway. from all the “lms and i’ll tell you what i like about you” trend statuses that people were doing back then on fb, i’d gained the tag of “cool/chill girl”, my crush rich boy, once called me “outrageous” because of how loud i was and how willing in years 7-9 to scream out stupid song lyrics like “i want to fuck dog in the ass” by blink 182, fight song by marilyn manson and then idek probably my humps by black eyed peas at the top my lungs through the very few halls that that school had 😂😅. i was being purposely and annoyingly offensive most of the time.
but eventually, once it came to things like one of the girls in my group wanting to run for vice school captain and the other girls in my group A L W A Y S being given leadership positions (LPs)….. while i always had to apparently “repent” my behaviour by being made (in theory from my teachers) to sit alone at lunch because of my “embarrassing” and “unseemly” behaviour at the so-called “training”/ “retreat” days we had for things like being peer support leaders for the new cohort of year 7s etc etc. i felt like everyone was just waiting for me to leave…. and that they couldn’t stand my “embarrassing” presence and that i’d ruin my friends chances of being selected as co-captain or whatever other bullshit LPs they wanted to run for. but still. i felt like i couldn’t leave. just. how do you leave a bunch of people that you’ve known for so long???
and even when my teachers were nice enough to give me a chance in a leadership position once; in that dastardly bullshit internet safety workshop thing that they should’ve literally just hired a professional workshop co. to do….. but to save money they used students in my year group instead. so, instead of being marked by my teachers on this program; i was marked by the catholic education office. they had a lady come in from the ceo to judge/mark us while presenting…… and this lady went off at teen me for “not being professional, responsible and respectful” or whatever the fuck the woman told 15/16yo me…. which teen me then fired back with “i don’t have to be fucking professional and responsible!!!! IM FUCKING 15!!!!”.. so from then on i was never given an LP or any other type of “peer support” role against my friends who were littered with offers for them. mind you, i did call a whole room of 14 year olds “a bunch of cunts” or the like and then stormed out thinking that i’d made a solid point, so the CEO woman had a good reason 😂😅….. again in hindsight.
of course there was also the bitterness of teen me being angry at the english dept for not giving her a spot in the top class of english in her half of the year. but as i’ve said previously on other posts, i’ve forgiven this because i did essentially fail one shakespeare in class assessment in year 8 or year 9 😂. but i strongly felt this during my time at catholic school bc my friends believed that i should’ve been in the top english class too lmao.
but aside from those troubles and foibles, i still found it incredibly hard to leave. to leave the perceived closeness of that group of girls, who would sometimes walk me down to the office and sit with me in “purple room” while i waited for the teacher that had to act as my therapist almost lmao. even though i always told my friends to leave me be and go back to class bc i felt bad about dragging them out of class for so long.
but yeah. with all the above behaviour, the song lyrics to me at the time made sense bc teen me just felt so pressured to fit into the whole “funny, cool, outrageous girl” bs box that people had put her in…. but at the same time she wanted to escape it bc she was just *flyleaf voice* SO SICK of being laughed at instead of laughed with (atl weightless reference here kids) just because… like she DESERVED to be taken seriously for fucks sake, and not a be a “monkey do funny dance” person… she obvs felt this the most in drama class. where in the shakespeare unit, she picked a medley of romeo and juliet and taming of the shrew monologues to do for her monologue. although she nearly did lady macbeth throwing herself off the tower, to be hella edgy…. but she opted not to do that in the end. but she picked serious pieces bc she was sick and tired of being classed as the one trick pony go-to funny person.
okay. this really went off topic. but y’all get the point??? the decision of leaving catholic school was a hell of a ride for little 14-16yo me. it was confusing, terrifying and tied up in years of being overly judged and feeling like people wanted me to leave bc they were sick of me. it was tied up in years of mid-class meltdowns that had become kind of routine for me to have, and that people were just brushing me off as “attention seeking”…. but also ironically waiting for me to snap at any second for another wild shouting match or walkout; which would then make me look like i was “unruly” or “untameable/unmanageable” or whatever the fuck….. but i couldn’t take that anymore, for the final senior years. i HAD to leave it.
again it was hard to leave for loyal little teen me, despite how lonely and isolated she felt. why leave your friends when you’re comfortable??? but also: why stay in this toxic environment where people are just waiting for you to either shut the fuck up and put up with it or just blow up and absolutely lose your shit??? that’s just unhealthy asf. and the only unruly thing that’s happening here is the complete lack of mental health help or management in the aussie education system; but most especially in religious schools.
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izumiyagami14 · 3 years
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overthinking
enlightenmonth // [day 9-12] past or future Summary: After receiving an offer for the job of her dreams, Hikari has too much on her mind. She needs to talk to someone to…
A dimly lit phone screen engulfed Hikari’s pale face as she let out a defeated sigh. The chirping from the crickets outside wasn’t the only thing keeping her up. For the first time in a long time, she had too much on her mind.
On her phone showed an email with the subject titled: “Kindergarten Teaching Position Offered!” Of course, at first she was excited to be offered her first job in the field she just graduated from, but now, all the different scenarios played in her head, causing her stomach to turn.
She needed to talk to someone.
She scrolled through her contacts, desperately trying to find someone, anyone to talk to.
Taichi? He’s alseep.
Takeru? He’s on a vacation with his brother before he starts his career.
Sora? She’s busy with her career.
Mimi? She probably wouldn’t understand her overthinking.
Who would understand what she is going through?
Hikari kept scrolling until she landed on a familiar name on her list. She hesitated for a second before pressing the dial button.
The phone rang twice before the call was picked up.
“Hello?”
She exhaled in relief. “Hey, Koushiro.”
“Everything alright?” His voice sounded tired but full of concern.
“Yeah, yeah. Everything is good... To be honest, I didn’t think you were going to pick up…”
“I’m always up at this time.” Concerned tone turned to defeated as a pause settled in. “Are you sure you’re okay, Hikari?”
She inhaled deeply. He always knew when something was up. “Actually, can you come over? I really need someone to talk to.”
Without hesitation, he responded, “I’ll be over in ten.”
In seven minutes, Hikari’s phone buzzed next to her pillow. A text filled the screen from the man she was waiting for with one word: Balcony. She replied with a simple okay and tiptoed to the balcony, careful not to wake her brother and her parents. She unlocked the door latch.
As she slowly opened the sliding screen door, the late summer breeze brushed her skin. She cautiously walked over to the edge of the balcony and looked down. Koushiro stood there hands in his pockets in the pale moonlight, giving Hikari a soft smile. She returned the smile and waved. “Give me a minute. I just need to plan my escape route,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
“Roger that,” he nodded.
She quietly walked back inside, put on her shoes and grabbed the nearest throw blanket. As she made it to the front door, she hesitated on grabbing her hoodie from her room. She shook her head, deciding against it as she might wake someone up, grabbed her keys, and slowly closed the door behind her, careful not to make a sound.
Hikari ran down the stairs and walked over to Koushiro. “Thanks for coming,” she huffed, out of breath.
“Of course. Did you have any place in mind to talk?” Koushiro asked, looking down at her.
“We can just sit on the roof of the complex, if that’s okay with you,” she replied.
“That’s alright with me,” he agreed and the two started their route.
For it being 2:14 in the morning, the summer cicadas sang in the crisp night air, filling in the holes of silence casted between the two. As they made their way up the complex’s stairs to the rooftop, the evening night had a slight chill, causing Hikari to shiver for a brief second. Once at the top, she walked over to a clear spot and laid out the blanket for the two to sit on. She sat down with her legs stretched forward and patted the empty spot next to her, indicating for him to join.
“So,” Koushiro started as he sat down, knees up for his elbows to rest on them. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”
There was a lingering pause. She kept her head facing toward her feet in front of her, unable to answer his question. “How are you doing? Are you liking your new career job?”
Her answering his question with a question caught him off guard. “Uh, it’s going well… Besides working late every night and the occasional all-nighters, it’s going… great.” His tone said otherwise. “How about you? You just graduated from college, so are you looking for jobs right away?”
“Yeah, I might…” she stiffly responded, leaning backward on her hands and keeping her eyes away from his. She wanted to bring up her pending email, but couldn’t.
“Hikari, are you okay?” He asked, looking down at her. He always knew when something was up.
“Yeah, I’ve just been… thinking a lot,” she responded, gazing out into the distance and trying her best to dodge his eyes.
“What about, if I might ask?” He asked, studying the girl next to him as the gears turned in his head.
“Do you ever think about our childhood?”
He was taken a little aback by her next question, still positive that this isn’t the main topic in her mind. “All the time,” he eventually responded.
She smiled softly. “Even though we were the Digidestined-“
“And still are.” He lightly added.
She giggled and nodded at his response. She looked up at the night sky to gather her thoughts. “Yes, and still are. And even though we basically had the weight of the world on our shoulders, some of us never really realized it until later. We were only kids. Our only worries were about the small things. Like what to wear to school and who would we sit with at lunch.”
Koushiro continued to look at Hikari, determined to find the underlying meaning to their discussion. Even though he couldn’t really relate to where her part of the conversation was going because he always realized their overgrown, overwhelming responsibility, he continued to listen. “That is correct…”
She let out a sigh as she continued. “As we continue to grow older, our life choices are getting bigger… Our future is closely approaching.” And I’m terrified. “And sometimes… I wish it would slow down and go back to the way things were.”
Koushiro looked up and let out a similar sigh. “I understand that bit. I wish I had more time, too.”
Another breeze of chilly night air rushed through, causing chills to run through Hikari’s body. Before he realized what he was doing, Koushiro slowly took off his flannel jacket and lightly placed it on the girl’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” she whispered with a genuine smile.
“Anytime.”
They continued to sit on the blanket as a comfortable silence hovered over the two. Koushiro was busy analyzing her questions, actions, and nonverbal cues and trying to figure out the real reason she wanted to talk. She mentioned my career, changed the subject about her future, and bought up the past. What could it be?
There was a slight discomfort in Hikari’s breath when she finally asked, “Do you think-“
“All the time. I’m a great thinker, you know,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it” she giggled and tried again. “Do you think-“
“Yes, I do.”
Hikari gave him a quick nudge with her shoulder, causing him to go a little off balance. “Will you quit that? I’m trying to ask you something serious, Koushiro.”
“My apologies. Ask away,” he replied once he fixed his posture.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He joked again.
“Do you think,” she started, but paused to figure out how to word the next part. “Do you think I’ll be a good teacher?”
Koushiro twisted his head at her in disbelief. “What makes you ask that?”
She continued to look down. “I don’t know. I’ve just been… thinking…”
Koushiro dropped his shoulders when the realization of her actions rang in his head. “Hikari, what was it you really wanted to talk about?”
She exhaled sharply, unable to move around the dilemma anymore. “I was just offered a job for teaching Kindergarten.”
He smiled, his mind guessing right. “That’s prodigious! Are you going to accept it?”
She nodded her head, looking off into the distance. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll probably take it.”
Koushiro sensed her uneasy aura from the hesitation from her voice. “Hikari, are you sure you’re okay?”
And just with those simple words, Hikari’s thoughts exploded inside of her and gushed out. “I’m just so worried I’m going to fail! I’ve wanted to do this my whole life! And now that it’s finally here, I’m terrified that it might not be what I was hoping it would! What if the kids hate me! What if I’m unable to manage the classroom! What if I can’t teach math! What if…-“
Koushiro’s eyes popped out of his head at her outbursts and instinctively reached out to her. The two were now entangled in one another, Hikari’s head on Koushiro’s chest with his arms securely around her.
They remained like that for a few long minutes before Koushiro gathered his thoughts to speak. “Hikari, it’s going to be fine. You can’t think like this. It’s going to consume you. It’s going to suffocate you.” He whispered to her, thinking about all the times he was alone like this. This can’t happen to her.
“I’m just so worried…” she breathed into his shirt with her face buried into his chest. His scent started to comfort her. “I’m sorry. I’m probably just overthinking everything. I don’t need to burden you with this.”
“You’re not being a burden. No one should go these thoughts alone…” Koushiro brought her head under his chin and thought about what to say next. He needed to choose his next words carefully. “The future is always uncertain, and that’s okay. One thing that is certain is that you will be a great teacher.”
Her sniffled and pulled away to meet his gaze. “You really think so?”
“I know so. The absolute best. Take the job, Hikari. It’ll be worth it in the end.”
After a couple minutes of calming her breath, she nodded and let out a shaky exhale “Okay, I will.” She placed her head on his shoulder. He placed his elbows back on his knees and resumed his previous spot.
The two continued to sit together under the moonlight and a comfortable silence. Koushiro could still hear the the gears turning in her head when she asked, “What if a student is having difficulty reading?”
“Then you’ll think of some strategies to help with that.”
“What if a student gets gets sick?”
“Then you’ll be able to take care of them.”
“What if a child gets sees a spider and freaks out so much that they run out of the classroom and out of the school and down the street..”
Koushiro laughed at her over exaggerating thoughts, continuing to stare off in the distance. “You’re starting to sound like me.”
“Let’s talk about it. What goes on through your mind?” She whispered, sending chills down his spine.
The dark blue and purple hues from the slowly rising sun started to send a warm welcome to the new day. He wanted to continue and talk to Hikari every day if he could, but now was not the time.
“We’ll talk about me another day. Let’s get you to bed. You need to rest.” Koushiro whispered back to her.
The two slowly stood up and Koushiro grabbed the blanket from underneath and handed it to Hikari. She started to take off his jacket, but he held a hand up to stop her. “I’ll come back tomorrow to pick it up.”
They walked down the stairs and stopped by the front door of the Yagami residence. The comfortable silence landed between the two again. Their evening talk was coming to an end, but neither of them wanted it to.
“Thank you again for coming,” Hikari admitted. “You didn’t have to come, you know...”
Koushiro shrugged. “I know, but I wanted to. If you ever need to talk, I’m always here to lend an ear.”
Hikari took a step toward him and placed a hand on his cheek. She felt him shiver at the touch, but didn’t know if it was from her hand or if it was from the cold, crisp evening air. “Same goes for you, too. You don’t have to do everything by yourself. We’ll talk about you another night.”
Even though she was struggling tonight with her thoughts and her future, she always had time to care for others. That’s how he knew she would be the greatest teacher ever.
He nodded and unknowingly leaned into her hand. “Let me know how your first day goes, okay?”
“I will,” she said with a smile and kissed him on the cheek.
He felt his face heat up and he froze in his place. Instead of saying what was going through his genius mind, he silently watched her turn around and locate her keys in her pockets. As she turned the key and slowly opened the front door, he started to turn toward home.
“Hey, Koushiro?” Her angelic voice stopped him dead in his tracks and he turned back to her.
“Hmm?”
She gave him a soft smile that made his heart flutter. “Take care of yourself.”
He returned the smile, hands in his pockets. “Same goes for you, too.”
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