Tumgik
#red string AU
spamgyu · 6 months
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RED STRING THEORY // Hansol x Reader Oneshot
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DESCRIPTION: Soulmates weren't real. This wasn't a fantasy world... But somehow, the world wanted them together. Giving them one too many chances to be together. Almost as if there was a little string that connected them to one another PAIRING: Idol!Hansol x Reader GENRE: A very LONG fluff.
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There is a popular belief that there is one person you are destined to be with regardless of time, place, and circumstances.
A person is born in to this world connected to their other half by this invisible red string. No matter how knotted and jumbled this string got, it was never broken – because in the end, it will always be them that would be destined for each other.
Y/n had grown up with her grandmother telling her and her older sister this folklore; standing firm on her belief that her and their grandfather were destined lovers and had proclaimed that one day, the two girls would find their way to theirs.
The two had taken their grandmother's words a with a grain of salt. More now that their father and mother had a very messy divorce, leaving the two to be solely under their mother's care.
But the older woman didn't care if the two girls huffed and puffed about her tales that she told each summer they paid a visit. A regular occurrence of their mother shipping them out to her home country; claiming it was good for them to be in touch with their roots instead of rotting away in their rooms during summer break.
Plus, it was far better than making the journey to Chicago where their father had relocated with his new girlfriend.
It was just like old times.
Except, now they were no longer required to have their grandparents accompany them as they explored the large city. They had the freedom to run about the streets, spending hours on end at the computer shop, biking along the river, and spending all their allowance at the local convenience stores.
"I don't think we have enough money." Y/n looked down at the basket of snacks her and her older sister have filled.
Her sister agreed with a nod. "Put back some chips."
Y/n pouted, reaching down to grab three bags of honey butter chips she had carelessly thrown in; trudging to the next aisle where they had been placed.
"Are you going to buy all that?" A young boy no older than fifteen asked, pointing at the bags in her arms. Unlike the boys from the neighborhood, he had looked like someone from back home. She took in his disheveled appearance, his hair was almost like a helmet on his head; the sweat on his forehead causing some of the strands to stick together.
Yuck.
Blinking slowly, y/n tilted her head to the side trying to comprehend what he had asked. She knew the language, just not well enough to understand when someone was speaking fast.
He must have grown up here.
"Hello?" He waved his hand to gain her attention.
"Sorry." She mumbled, rushing to place the chips back on the shelf.
"Weirdo." He said underneath his breath, grabbing a bag.
"Excuse me?!"
Eyes growing wide, the boy turned to face her – ears and cheeks red. "Heh?" He flashed a shy grin and peace sign before running away to the front of the store.
Y/n dismissed the small interaction with the young boy – not before ranting to her older sister about how rude he was to someone who was clearly from not the area.
Teens were rude and arrogant at that age anyways.
It was her last day before heading back west when she had another run in with the teen. She was reaching for a can of grape drink when another hand brushed against hers; causing her to quickly retract her hand – mumbling a soft apology and motioning for the person to go ahead.
"Here." He extended his arm to offer the girl the can, recognizing her from weeks ago.
Their first small interaction that had left him flustered as he made his way back to the practice room. He was told specifically by the staff to be careful of how they portrayed themselves during their time outside the green room, in case they were to debut.
No future idol wants negative stories from strangers as a new comer. One story can easily cause a snowball effect and become not only the downfall of one member but the group as a whole.
He knew their conversation wasn't much of a headline, but he also knew how easily the public villainized a celebrity for something so miniscule.
He did not want to risk it.
The young teen had gone back nearly every day before practice in hopes to run into the girl, wanting to change whatever impression he had originally made.
"Thanks." Y/n pulled a tight lipped smile before turning her heel to head for the register.
"Sorry about the other time!" He called out.
"I don't care." She called back, handing the cashier the change she had fished out from her pocket – not bothering to look back at the dumb struck boy stood at the refrigerated drinks aisle.
Crisis averted.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
It had been years since he had been back in the city where his parents had met. Not to mention years since he had given a proper break.
Thanks to their group's success over the past two years since debuting, they were granted a month and half of down time. No practices, no variety show guesting, no filming.
Just quiet time.
The first in a very long time.
Each and every member agreed that they would use the first half of this break to work in their team and the latter half with their own families.
Vernon could not be anymore grateful that his mom had decided this meant flying back New York for a change of scenery and pace.
For once since his debut, he felt like a normal teen; waking up at noon, exploring the city by himself with no set schedules, and eating whatever his heart desired.
"You're staring." His sister nudged him, breaking his gaze from the girl behind the counter who was far too busy taking everyone else's order to notice that he was practically burning a hole into her skin.
"She looks familiar, doesn't she?" He nodded to the girl.
His sister follower his eyes before giving him a look. "No she doesn't."
"I swear, I've seen her before."
Sofia snorted, rolling her eyes at her brother.
He could be a dits at times.
"You wish." She took a step towards the counter, placing her order.
"And for you?" The girl smiled, using her customer service voice that she had gotten down to T since applying for the cafe.
"Oh uh–" He glanced up at the menu, scratching the back of his neck. He had become too preoccupied trying to figure out why the girl in front of him had looked like someone he had seen before that he had completely forgotten the reason why he and his sister decided to drop by in the first place.
Coffee.
"He'll have an iced mocha." His little sister interjected, seeing that her brother seemed still be buffering by her side.
"$10.78 please."
"Vernon." Sofia nudged him yet again, this time a little harder, signaling for him to pay.
"Right." He cleared his throat, digging into his back pocket to pull out the plastic card from his wallet. "Here you go."
"Is he okay?" The girl joked, taking the card from his had.
"He's allergic to girls."
"Am not!" He cried, now fully present.
"Okay well then don't be a freak."
Y/n awkwardly laughed at the two's sudden bickering, handing the form of payment back. "Drinks will be ready at the side."
"Thanks– wait, do I know you?"
"Oh my god." Sofia grumbled, slapping her hand on her forehead in embarrassment.
"Um.... No." Y/n replied, coming out as more of a question. "Are you trying to hit on me?"
"Wha– No! Oh my god no!" His eyes wide, shaking his head quickly.
He was never good with girls.
Or strangers.
Unless they were his fans; all thanks to their media training and fan service lessons.
She raised her brows. "Should I be offended by how quickly you said that?"
"Oh my god oh my god, let's go please you're embarrassing me." Sofia cried, pushing her brother towards the direction where the rest of the cafe customers were stood, waiting for their drinks. "I'm really sorry about him!"
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
Curiosity had gotten the best of him and he was set on figuring out why the girl at the coffee shop looked familiar – dropping by another time.
"Hi familiar stranger." She greeted as he walked into the semi-empty shop, a glaring difference from the other day.
Granted, he stopped by during hours where most would be busy at work or school.
"What can I get you today?"
"Iced mocha please." He said confidently this time.
"Anything else?"
"That's it." Vernon pulled a tight lipped smile, handing her his card.
He was so sure he would have been able to figure it out by now; unable to help himself from staring at her.
Not in a creepy way of course.
No. He was not a creep.
Just annoyed that his brain can't seem to put a finger on why her features looked like someone he has seen before.
He hadn't been in the states in years. Let alone has he been to this particular coffee shop.
But why was she so familiar?
Before he could walk away, he found himself asking the question aloud. Again.
"Are you sure I don't know you?"
"Are you sure you're not hitting on me?" She countered.
He shook his head. "No, I– you just look like someone I know."
Maybe she was a fan.
From a fan sign.
What if she was playing a sick prank, wanting to have her own little cliche moment of bumping into their celebrity crush so that they could organically fall in love with each other.
Not that he was in love.
Nor did he like the girl.
He didn't even know her.
She's pretty. Very pretty– but– oh my god he's staring at her. Shake it off.
"Do you go to fan signs?"
Oh he is about to blow his cover.
"Yeah, totally. I just went to one in Brooklyn– are you stupid?" She replied sarcastically.
She didn't live under a rock. She knew what fan signs were, having heard of them from her cousins when she would visit her grandparents for the summer.
"Taking that as a no." He said slowly.
"Is this some sort of pick up line. You're going to say I look like one of those idols you see when you go to fan signs? It's a really dum–"
He let out a laugh.
If she had only known.
"I told you I'm not hitting on you."
"Says the guy that keeps asking why I look familiar, in a really weird way, I may add."
This was hopeless.
Why did he think he would be able to figure it out this time around?
It was as if there was an itch in his his brain he couldn't seem to scratch. But considering there was no progress in getting any clues as to why the girl looked like some one he had previous encounter with, he'd just have to learn to ignore it.
"I just– it's bugging me– It's whatever." He mumbled, walking over to his drink that was waiting at the counter.
"If it helps, my mom said I have an average face!" She called out.
Little did he know she would later find out who he was, all thanks to her mom's need to watch any and all content that was happening back east.
She had nearly choked on her water that night when his face appeared on screen as her mom watched the latest episode of Happy Together; earning strange looks from both her mom and sister.
Y/n wanted to so badly let the two know that she had not only one but two encounters with the boy on the screen a few months back – for street creds of course.
But she knew they wouldn't believe her.
No one would have.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
Moving was one thing.
Y/n didn't mind moving.
Moving to different country.
That was another story.
Due to her grandfather's recent passing, y/n's mother thought it was best to relocate back to their home country to accompany her now widowed grandmother.
Y/n wanted to be selfish.
She wished she had enough guts to fight to say behind, just as her sister had, and complete her masters with her friends. She wished her mom hadn't been fully educated about the transfer program her university had.
If she had only been born two years earlier like her sister, maybe she could have used the "I have a job here that I can't leave behind." excuse.
Don't get her wrong.
She loved her grandmother, and she would do anything for her.
But asking to up root her whole life, to move all the way across the world to leave behind her friends and her boyfriend, was a lot.
Y/n wanted to complain. She wanted to pout. She wanted to throw a fit, like any other toddler who was told they were not allowed the toy they have been asking for but she knew better.
Y/n sucked it up, hiding her disappointment behind a smile each time she came home from yet another day of classes at the university.
A lifestyle she had yet to adjust to.
Pushing past the mess of people, y/n ran down the stairs of the subway station – afraid of missing the train that was set to arrive in just a minute. She had gotten a little too distracted with the shops along the way and lost track of time, forgetting to account for the endless corridors and staircases she had to travel before reaching her set subway line.
She had nearly reached the last step when she felt someone step on the heel of her sneakers, sending her forward in an instant.
Y/n was fully prepared to make contact with the floor, bracing for impact.
But the pain never came.
Instead, a tight grip on her upper arm held her up just enough for her to regain balance.
"Thank you." Y/n turned to the stranger, reaching up to rub where their hand had once been – in attempts to soothe it.
Thanks to their quick thinking, she had been able to save herself from embarrassment and a possible concussion; but that didn't mean it didn't come with a cost.
She could practically feel the bruise forming on her arm where their fingers once was, wincing at the thought of having to explain to her mom and grandmother why she had a perfect hand print bruise on her upper arm.
"Sorry." He apologized sheepishly, coming out as almost a mumble due to the mask that covered half of his face.
"It's fine."
"I uh– let me give you money for uh– cream?"
She raised her brows. She knew there would be a cultural difference once she had moved to the country, but never had she heard of someone being a little too friendly and offering to buy.... bruise relief cream.
It's just a bruise, anyways.
"No need, oh my god." She shook her head, subconsciously reaching over to stop him from grabbing his wallet from his back pocket; instantly retracting her hand when she noticed him flinching at her touch.
Right, this wasn't the west.
They don't do that here.
"Sorry, I– am not."
"From here?" He finished with a chuckle.
"Yeah..."
"I know. I mean– you sound like my sister from back in the states– That's information I didn't need to share."
"Line 6 is arriving." A perky voice blared through the speakers, interrupting the two.
"Shit. Gotta go, don't worry about the bruise!" She spoke quickly, hurrying over to her platform.
To her surprise, the stranger had hopped on to the same cart as her – instantly spotting his all black outfit paired with black fitted hat from a few seats down.
Sh had tried her best to keep herself pre-occupied, looking down at her phone as she pretended to be interested in her instagram feed – not wanting to look like a stalker. It wasn't that she was interested in him.
She had a boyfriend.
No, she was just.... curious.
Something about his voice seemed... familiar.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
He was in the same cart as her the following day — easily spotting him as he was dressed in the same ensemble. Just different colors.
This time, he wore light washed jeans and a plain white tee. As opposed to yesterday's all black attire. Not to forget the cap that rested low on his head and mask covering the remainder of his features.
He really did not want to be seen.
"How's the arm?" He asked, taking a seat at the now vacant spot next to her.
Y/n lifted the sleeve of her oversized graphic tee to show him the mark he had left behind. "Purple."
"Sorry again." He winced.
"Saved me from cracking my head open." She shrugged. "You been to New York?"
"Huh?"
Y/n gestured to the embroidered team cap he was sporting.
"Oh uh— kinda?"
"Kinda?" She raised her brows.
"I was born out there." Vernon answered hesitantly.
He wasn't sure if his disguise was, if it could even be considered as one, had been good enough to hide who he really was. He wanted to be careful of any and every information he gave out to her, just in case she was a fan of him and his group.
Not that she seemed to hint that she had any sort of idea of who he was... or seemed to care to figure out who she was speaking to under the mask and hat.
Besides, who's ever heard of an idol taking a subway.
In Vernon's defense, he didn't have a license and didn't feel the need to. It was very rare that he needed to be behind the wheel on his own anyways.
"Cool." She nodded. "Me too."
He let out a soft chuckle, finding her poor attempt to make small talk.... humorous...ly cute.
"What brings you out here?"
"My mom."
"Well yeah–"
"No I'm serious," She laughed, realizing he had probably thought she was making a joke about reproduction. xi. "My mom wanted to relocate."
"Oh my god." He groaned putting his head in his hands out of embarrassment before sitting back up and joining her in her fits of laughter.
"What about you?"
"Also my mom.... and dad."
"Cool."
"Cool."
The sound of the train humming along the tracks filled the silence between the two.
She had yet to figure out how to properly interact with strangers, afraid to come off too strong.
"I'm y/n by the way." She hesitantly brought her hand up, unsure if it was appropriate to shake his hand or not.
"Hansol." He took her warm hands in his cold ones, giving it a quick shake — just in case there had been wandering eyes.
"This is me," Y/n allowed for the train to a complete stop before standing from her seat, turning to give the boy one last smile and wave. "I'll see you around I guess"
She never did.
A part of her wished that he was on the same train again the following day, catching herself craning her neck to see if she could spot him in the mess of crowd that had piled in.
She had done this for three days.
Giving up on the fourth.
Why was she so curious? Who makes a friend on a train?
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
Y/n had grown to love the place.
Contrary to what she had made herself believe.
Maybe it was that she had finally adjusted to the culture and the lifestyle of the country, or maybe it was that there was no other reason for her to go back – her boyfriend of three years dumping her on a random Tuesday in May, just days before she was set to fly out to visit him.
So much for the stupid red string theory.
Swearing off relationships, y/n chose to focus on her new job; as a Media Marketing Associate at the new leading entertainment company.
She wanted to make her mother proud – just as her older sister has, who was now a Creative Director for Capitol Records.
Y/n wanted to follow her older sister's footsteps.
At least, if it fate allowed it.
Just before clocking out the night before, her team had received word that one person will be removed – claiming that the workflow needed restructuring.
Y/n wasn't stupid. She knew it meant someone was getting fired.
And judging by seniority, and her being a new hire of two months, she knew she would be the one to be let go.
"Morning." She greeted her coworkers with a sigh.
"Don't look too sad, y/n." Soooyun frowned, knowing that she had nothing but words to offer.
"So much for being a marketing director." Y/n pulled a tight lipped smile, reaching over to turn on her computer.
As if it was any use, considering she may have already had her employee access revoked.
She had been fully prepared to pack up her desk by the end of the day, giving her mother a heads up that she may need to cry in her arms once she got home from work.
But fate was on her side.
"No way." She gasped, scanning the email she had opened. "I'm not fired!"
"What?" Sooyun jumped from her seat, walking over to her desk to read over her shoulders. "We are pleased to tell you that you have been selected to join our subsidiary label's marketing tea– this is good news!"
"Oh my god. I thought I was going to be unemployed!" Y/n cried, continuing to scan through the email. "Wait, what floor is PLEDIS?"
"Eight. Good luck. They're a mess." She snickered, walking back to her desk.
"Oh so I might as well have been fired."
"I'm kidding. They're .... working on it."
"I'm drafting my two week notice."
She never drafter her two week notice.
Instead, the department she had been suddenly thrusted into had welcomed her with open arms — despite half of the team having been around since before the label acquisition.
They were all learning the new groove of workflow that HYBE had standardized for a good portion of their subsidiaries' PR and Marketing department, leaning on one another for support during their onboarding.
She had quickly grown to be comfortable with her new team just as she had with the temporary one from two floors above.
"Y/n, it's your time to shine." Her lead grinned, leaning against her desk. "Sales and PR approved of your tour pitch."
"No way." Y/n gasped, her grin matching his.
"I want you to pitch it to the boys."
The grin quickly fell from her face. "No way."
Yn had known each and every boy by name; especially the boy that she had interacted with years back when she was working at the cafe near her home. But she still couldn't help but feel nervous.
She had done minor research on the men she now worked for, but interactions with them in person was different.
Especially now that she was a grown adult with an almost fully developed frontal lobe.
Y/n had yet to meet the group as a whole, having only met Seungcheol and Woozi in passing on the way to the office — tucked far behind the practice room used by the team.
She knew she wanted to move up in the company, meaning that she would be heading meetings regularly. But she had also yet to assimilate to the workplace — let alone the talents she had worked for.
Almost everyone on the team were comfortable with the boys, each having their own stories about how kind and attentive they were to their staff members.
She wanted to ease into it slowly.
Not thrown into the deep end.
Which seemed to have been occurring far more often than she would like.
"Can't I just be the person that clicks the arrow button for the next slide?"
"It's your presentation. You have it memorized."
"I'll teach you."
"I think that will be tough because meeting is in," He glanced down at the silver watch on his arm. "Ten minutes."
Oh she's definitely drafting her two weeks now.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
Nervously standing at the end of the very long conference table, y/n fiddled with the hem of her cardigan — waiting for the group of thirteen boys to file in and take a seat.
The growing sound of booming voices grew louder and louder as each seconds passed; signaling their arrival. It was only a matter of milliseconds before they appeared one by one through the doorway — greeting her and Seongho, her team lead who stood beside her.
Of course, he earned chirpier hi's and hello's — being a part of the team for five years now.
Y/n nearly had to fight her eyes from lingering at the him. He had matured entirely, his shoulders now broad, maybe even gotten taller.... and god that jaw.
He looked good.
She quickly averted her eyes down to the device in front of her before anyone caught her stare – which was quite easy as they all seemed quite busy in their own worlds.
Y/n waited until they were situated in their seats, each small conversation finishing as she tapped away on her laptop that was connected to the projector behind her — instantly catching their attention with the bright colors of the mood board she had put together.
She felt like a teacher standing in front of a group of kindergarteners and she felt their gaze on her — some with hands folded in-front and on the table.
Just like kindergarten.
"Hi everyone, name is y/n." She bowed, using her best customer service voice. "I'll be heading today's marketing pitch."
Y/n was about to open her mouth, ready to start with her first slide when a sudden cough attack caught everyone's attention.
It was him.
"You okay?" Mingyu turned to Vernon, letting out a laugh as he patted his back in attempts to soothe him.
"Yeah, swallowed my water wrong." He croaked, earning laughters from everyone.
"Slow down, yeah?" Minghao chuckled.
Vernon nodded, clearing his throat as he adjusted in his seat. "Sorry, uh, y/n please continue."
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
She didn't know which she liked more about her job. The pay.... or the free food.
Not a day had gone by where she did not passed up taking trip to the company cafe on the third floor to get her daily caffeine fix and sweet little treat from the pastry selection that was baked fresh every day.
Yeah.... it was definitely the free food.
Especially now that she had been appointed to lead the marketing for the group's Japan leg of the tour.
It was her fourth day in a row that she had made her way down to the cafe for the second time since clocking in – deeming that one iced coffee was not enough.
Unfortunately for her, there was a line of at least eight people ahead of her and only two barista's working the counter.
This was going to take longer than the ten minutes she had told her team.
Unbeknownst to her, he was stood second in line – his eyes immediately spotting her when she had entered the room.
Not that he was looking for her.
She was just very easy to spot.
She dressed differently than the rest of the staff.
Her style still very much influenced by western fashion.
"Y/n." Vernon called from his spot.
His voice was very easy to recognize.
Once she locked eyes with him, he motioned for her to stand next to him – cutting the rest of those who stood behind.
Not that they would complain.
"Thank you." She bowed hesitantly.
Y/n had yet to be comfortable around him and the rest of the boys, despite having had frequent interactions since the meeting she had delivered months ago.
She was his age and he had specified that it was completely fine to address him like a friend.
They all preferred their staff seeing them as coworkers, people that they could be friends with, instead of land mines that they had to carefully tiptoe around.
"We'll be seeing each other a lot and we hope you'll be around as long as we are... So please, don't think you have to treat us like kings." The leader said after the meeting, formally introducing the team as a whole to y/n.
"How's planning going?" He asked, making small talk.
In all the times he had a run in with the girl, he hadn't been able to properly converse with her. Mostly because it was either he had a other members with him, who were far more outgoing and vocal – leading the conversations. Or he just didn't quite have time.
He would see her in the halls, giving her a nod as a form of greeting and a quick smile before rushing to the practice room.
The last time he had a proper one on one with her was a year ago... at the subway station near his parent's home.
Though, it was just him that knew of that interaction.
He planned to tell her one day. Thinking it would be a fun fact to bring up one day.
He just needed to find the right time.
"Really good, actually. Stressful. But good." She beamed, wanting to spill all that she had managed to accomplish since being assigned the project.
"I'm excited to see all that you worked on– you and the team."
Pulling out her phone from her phone pocket, she quickly swiped through her emails – double checking to see if anyone had been peering over their shoulders before showing him the screen.
It was rough draft of the train decal she had managed to secure with the subway system in Japan – promoting their multiple shows.
"Are we gong to be on a train?" He gasped, zooming into the file.
"Yeah, just got it approved this morning." She smiled.
"Whoa." Vernon was shocked.
He knew their group had been successful, his bank account being the biggest indicator, but he didn't think it had gotten this far.
Vernon was fully aware that they had gotten quiet big; bigger than what they had imagined during their trainee days. But a train.... with all their faces... set to be traveling throughout the country....? That blew his mind.
"Thank you." He handed her phone back.
"Working on gettin it on a plane too." Y/n replied, stepping up to the counter once the person in front of them had stepped away. "Iced hazelnut coffee please."
"Plane?" He gasped, still standing in his spot, mouth agape.
Y/n didn't think it was much of a big deal, remembering that she had briefly mentioned it during her presentation. Along with the VERY generous budget HYBE and PLEDIS had given the marketing team.
She remembered clearly because Minghao compared it to the Hello Kitty plane he had taken once on the way back to China; unable to help herself from laughing.
"Uh.... he'll have an iced mocha." She turned back to the barista, letting out a soft laugh as she stepped away from the front of the line – Vernon following suit.
She had perfectly remembered his order from that day.
Unable to shake it off. Especially not after she realized who he was.
"A plane?"
"It's not for sure yet."
"A plane." He repeated, coming back down to earth. "Wait I didn't order!"
"Oh I got it."
"Did you get me an iced americano?" He deadpanned, knowing that it had been a stereotypical drink that was a crowd favorite. And considering he was lost in his own world, he figured it would have been the safe choice for her to say.
He hated that watered down tar drink.
"Did you want an iced americano?" Y/n asked slowly, scolding herself for ordering the same drink he had picked out when he was a teen.
How was she going to explain this to him?
Without being an absolute creep...
"No but it's fine, I'll give it to Seungkwan."
"I got you an iced mocha."
Welp.
There goes the bomb.
She began planning her escape route.
"Oh." He was left dumbfounded for a second time.
"Uh.... you seem like an iced mocha guy."
That was convincing.... right?
"Should I be offended?"
"Maybe." She shrugged, letting out a small sigh of relief as she walked over to get their drinks from the counter.
Crisis averted.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
Y/n didn't intend to stay past her usual work hours. She wasn't one to work a full twelve hour day, not when she can help it.
The first day of the Follow to Seoul was fast approaching, and though she was on the Japan team, she had grown restless as the big day approached. Each and every single marketing deliverables had to be cohesive through out all the stops, regardless of country or city. And considering it was her that had pitched this overall theme, she couldn't help but take extra hours to ensure any and all loose ends had been perfectly tied off.
Y/n was a perfectionist.
She had taken one last glance at the email she had scheduled to be sent to all the staff members the following morning, containing all information relating to the tour; including posting schedules on social media, announcement of later dates, and merch recap.
Content with herself, she closed out of her browser and collected her belongings – heading for the door.
At least she wasn't the last one on their floor, getting accustomed to the group's late night practices. She had one too many run ins with a few members in the past week, each scolding her for staying past the usual 6pm clock out time.
"Didn't you already get an earful from Seungkwan the other day?" Vernon called out from the end of the hall.
He had stepped out of the elevator and instantly recognized her; a smile appearing on his face.
Because he wanted to tease her.
Nothing else.
Looking up from her phone, she let out a laugh. She was caught.
"Shouldn't you be at practice? You're late." She teased right back.
They had met halfway, both with stupid grins on their faces.
Because of the joke.
"I had schedule before this." He defended.
"I was finishing up the last few details." Y/n countered.
His bottom lip jutted out, nodding in understandment. A habit she had noticed he seemed to have done quite often.
"The last train was 30 minutes ago."
"My mom's picking me up."
"That's cute."
She reached over to give his arm a smack, knowing that he was holding himself back from making another joke.
They had finally crossed the weird line that rested between coworkers that made small talk with one another in the work place and coworkers that you'd consider to maybe... just maybe be okay with hanging out with outside of the workplace.
Not that they have ever.
That was still untouchable territory.
Being an idol and all.
The only time they have spent time outside of the office building was during company dinners. A neutral setting.
Sure, they've spent some lunches at the cafeteria together – Vernon unable to pass up free food when he was far too lazy to go off and find other meals outside of the company.
"Ow! That'll bruise." Vernon cried, grabbing the spot where her hand had landed.
"Oh please. I barely grazed it. I would have to grab you really hard to even leave a mark."
"Like when you fell in the subway?" He snorted.
Y/n brows furrowed in confusion, her head tilting to the side. She had never told him about that day in the subway.
She had never told anyone about it.
It was of no significance.
A minor interaction with a stranger.
"How do you know about that?"
Vernon's eyes grew wide at the sudden slip up. "Huh?"
"I never told anyone about that."
"No– no you definitely told me about it. You were falling and this guy saved you from falling."
Or maybe she had.
... Had she?
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
He was screwed.
Not only was he screwed but he owed Mingyu and Dokyeom ₩100,00 ... each.
Vernon had a crush.
A big fat crush that had him grinning like a stupid little kid every time he was near her. Hell, he had caught himself grinning while looking at her instagram.
Which took a lot of convincing and a few specially delivered coffees at her desk for him to even pry out of her.
He would spend hours on end that day carefully swiping through to make sure that he did not accidentally like any of her posts.
His fans were smart. Detectives even.
He knew any movement on any social media did not go unnoticed.
All hell would break loose the second they caught wind of him interacting with anyone but his members or fans.
He had managed to deny all claims that he may be attracted to the newest addition to their staff team, and everyone seemed to have bought it.
All except Mingyu and Dokyeom, who had caught the two one too many times in their own world during her lunch breaks.
Vernon had confidently challenged the two to a ₩100,00 bet to prove that they were wrong.
He didn't think they would win.
It was silly little crush.
But she had texted him earlier that day, wanting to talk after work – claiming that she had to confess something.
Since receiving that text, he had been restless; unable to find a comfortable position on his couch and opted to plan out his outfit instead.
He wanted to look good.
Because she's confessing her feelings right?
And if the feelings were mutual.... then why not? Right?
He's allowed to date.
Everyone else around him had significant others.
Why can't he?
Vernon decided being home was not an option, not while his everyone else was home and able to pick up on his behavior.
Coming up with some lame excuse about wanting to practice one last time before they headed off to Japan for their first show, he made his way to their company's designated floor – waiting in the practice room.
He was grateful that she had asked to meet on the one particular day their day off landed on – their managers agreeing they needed rest more now that the non-stop schedules were kicking off.
Vernon was laying on the couch when he heard the door creak open, his head shooting up – eyes immediately locking with hers. He jumped up and off of the couch; adjusting his shirt.
He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as she grew closer to him.
It began to beat louder once she was a foot from him, his nose instantly filled with her signature scent.
Burberry HER.
He wasn't weird.
He had complimented her months before and she happily advertised the small roll on version of the product she carried with her at all times.
"I hate not smelling good." She reasoned when he had teased her about it.
"How was work?" He asked.
She shrugged. "We finally announced the Follow train and plane. Your fans made a few jokes about how they hope it was you guys flying it too."
He let out a chuckle, aware of the jokes that their fanbase were capable of making – some even making it into the groupchat whenever either one of them found one good enough to send them to tears in laughter.
"Anyways, I have a confession." She wasted no time getting right to the point. "And I already know you're probably going to distance yourself after, but I don't care. It's been literally bugging me for months now."
"It's okay, I– I think I have something to say too." He wiped his hands on his jeans, feeling them grow moist from the anticipation.
"You do?" Y/n was puzzled.
"Yeah but uh... you go first."
"No, now I'm curious." She laughed, picking up on his nervous demeanor.
She was nervous as well, but his.... was little more off putting; the color on his lips draining.
Vernon was glad they were standing, knowing that his legs would have been bouncing enough to shake the whole room from the anxiety he had been feeling.
He had confessed his feelings to someone before. Why was he so nervous?
She was going to do it as well.
Right?
"I– fine." He sucked in a deep breath, locking his eyes with her. "I um, may have a slight, crush– No actually, no I have feelings for you. Positive ones. You know the one that makes me want to kick your feet and giggle when you text the person you like.... That kind."
Y/n's lips formed into an "o".
That wasn't what she was expecting, though.... she should have guessed the minute she picked up on his strange behavior – mentally comparing it to a high schooler when they were around their crush.
Vernon watched as the girl slowly walked over to the couch, taking a seat. His eyes remaining on her as she sat in silence.
"I'm guessing that you were not going to say the same thing."
She slowly shook her head, still in shock.
Welp.
Time to go on a year long hiatus.
He allowed her for a minute of silence, taking a seat on the far opposite end of the couch; silently drumming his fingers on his legs as he tried his best to keep the voices in his head from jumping into further conclusions.
"So I'm uh– going to head out." He clicked his tongue, standing from his seat.
God this was so awkward.
"Wait!" Y/n her voice cracked, finally blinking away the blank stare she had.
Vernon was halfway to the door when she had called out for him, turning his heel to face her.
"Sorry I was... processing." She ran her fingers through her hair. Y/n had many things to consider.
The thing was, she too had positive feelings for him.
But that was the thing.
She was perfectly fine pining for him in silence. She was okay with the one sided admiration. Y/n was completely okay with having him as her work crush, the reason as to why she was that much more motivated to come in when the days felt like a call in sick type of day.
Because just a minute ago, she didn't know he had felt the same.
But now that he had exposed how he felt, it complicated her false reality.
Not only did she realize she might just have a chance with him... she had a chance with an idol.
Someone who was meant to remain unattainable. Only for fans.
Someone who cannot be seen with anyone of the opposite gender.
Someone who she was definitely not supposed to be dating.
Not that he asked her out.... he just told her how he felt.
"I came here to tell you that we met before." Y/n swallowed, walking over to where he stood. "I– we were teenagers. I was working at a cafe and you and your sister came in. I– I didn't know who you were at the time but a few months later I saw you on TV and– I didn't think I would see you again. Let alone work for you. It's been eating me alive since I saw you in the conference room. More now that we're friends. Or... possible ... crushes? I–"
Now it was his turn to be in shock.
"Do you believe in the red string theory?" He blurted.
That damn red string.
Y/n couldn't help but laugh, nodding in response to his question.
Vernon had heard about the red string theory from his mother, she had always entertained all sorts of ideas as such and happily shared it to him and his sister.
He rarely believed in these ideas, such as zodiac signs being able to properly describe someone's personality down to what makes them tick. Listening to his mother ramble on and on out of respect.
"You don't know this but– that day, that you fell at the station... That was me. I was the one that stopped you from falling. That bruise, I– I'm Hansol."
Vernon remembered that day so clearly.
His sister was in town for a quick break from her school back west and he had been paying her a visit at his parent's home – opting to take the public transportation instead of bothering his band of brothers or managers.
He was far too busy trying to keep his profile low as he headed back to his shared apartment when he stepped on the back of her sneakers.
Thanks to his quick reflexes, he had been able to catch her.
He was left in awe of her beauty that day, cursing himself for not approaching her when he had caught her staring from a few feet away.
The second time was purely coincidence.
He was sending his sister off.
He didn't think y/n would be taking the same scheduled train as him.
Vernon wasn't one to take things a sign. But he did just this on time – taking a seat next to the girl.
He didn't think he would see her again.... again.
Especially not as someone heading their marketing meeting.
"I choked on my water that day you were presenting because– I mean, I was surprised that you were there." He continued.
Maybe both her grandmother and his mom were right.
Maybe they did have an invisible string that tied them together.
That must be the only explanation.
"Wait— you— hold up." She reached over, using one hand to hold onto his upper arm; trying to stabilize her now weak knees. "Is this okay? I'm allowed to hold onto— I—"
Vernon felt his ears grow hot, unable to bite back the smile fighting its way to appear on his face. "Yeah this is okay." He nodded.
"Before we circle back to the whole destiny thing," Y/n withdrew her arm back to her side. "I— can't believe I'm saying this out loud, but I... uh— kinda like you too?"
"Kinda ... with a question mark?"
"Okay, I do. I have positive feelings for you."
He felt his heart take a leap.
"Can you give me a second?" Vernon held up a finger before walking over to a corner, letting out a dramatic 'yes!'.
She watched him in awe.... and pure adoration. A larger grin on his face as he made his way back to where he stood.
He was cold and stoic on camera, rarely showing any emotions but she quickly realized that the facade he seemed to put on wasn't who he really was.
Vernon was a dork, an animated and very funny guy who enjoyed teasing her any chance he got. Just like any other boy who had a crush.
There had been countless of times when she found herself wiping away the moisture from her eyes from the stupid corny jokes he told.
"Back to the whole destiny thing."
"It can't possibly be real but... I'll take it. I'll allow it." She laughed.
"You think that little red string is tied to yours?" Bringing his pinky up to their eye line.
"I would hope so."
"Want to test the theory?" He wiggled his finger, earning a giggle from her. "Dinner on me?"
"Let's start with dinner on a plate first."
Vernon's smile fell, using his other hand to fiddle with his pinky.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm trying to untie the string." He chuckled, breaking character.
"You're a loser." Y/n rolled her eyes.
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tag list: @leah-rose03 @yoonzinuhh @musingsofananxiouspotato @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @hanniebanggi
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paper-lilypie · 2 years
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fate tangles up in the oddest of places sometimes
(@aikochan97 your art gave me so many brainworms aaaaa)
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gildedphoenix · 5 days
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During the great depression, somebody made a wish. Fueled by desperation, powered by the pure dumb luck of being in the right place at the right time to be heard by an ancient Djinn (it was totally Desire) with a sense of humor. 
After the wish, everyone had a red string hanging off their left pinky. It dangled down a few inches and then just faded into non-existence. Nobody knew what it was for a few years but then stories started coming out. People finding their perfect match after feeling a tug at their string and following it. The string would twist and twine and lengthen as you got closer to your fated mate, your strings eventually connecting together. 
Most people’s strings just hung limp. Maybe listing in one direction or another. But 8 Billion people in the world and only one is your soul mate? Most people didn’t meet theirs. It was true that your soulmate was always within 10 years of age as you. But 10 years older to 10 years younger still gave you a 20 year range to work with. Everyone’s string appeared by the time they were 10. Some babies were born with their string already spun, a small red thread fading off into a wisp after a scant inch. 
Nowadays, it was common to go on a “string chase” vacation after graduating high school. Some people were close enough to their soulmates that they could just follow the leadings of their string, which would become longer and more opaque the closer you got to your mate. If your string gave you no leads, there were all kinds of "methods" to help pick which direction you should go.
Tucker and Sam were determined to go on string chase journeys post graduation. Tucker because he loved the excitement of an adventure, Sam to find someone who would truly understand her.
Danny was not so hopeful. At one point they'd all agreed to go together, but Sam felt like she was being led to the west coast while Tucker was just going to start in Metropolis, the nearest big city and go from there, hopping the next train out of town after a few days if he still had a slack string.
After a lengthy discussion of pros and cons, they decided that Tucker was more likely to get himself into trouble than Sam, so Danny found himself packing light and on a Greyhound to Metropolis. It was a shitty trip. Objectively the worst way to travel. Walking, or even hitch hiking would have been more pleasant. The bus was late. They had no way of making their connection in Chicago, and the vent fan in the bathroom was broken, making the bus reek of sewage.
Danny has shit luck and just doesn't believe he'll ever find his soulmate. The universe just doesn't like him that much.
Jason has, somehow, always had a leading direction on his string. When he was younger, there was nothing he could do about it. And now he had baggage and didn't want to pursue romance or relationship. (Even though he's a total sap for soulmate meet stories)
While in Gotham, both their strings keep tugging and lengthening and then falling slack again.
----
I know this isn't much but I promised myself I would post whatever I had and it's almost 1 am. So there. There's that fucking thing. I'll try to flesh it out more tomorrow, Enjoy red ♥️🧵♥️
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The red string of fate.
It tied around your finger and led you to where your soulmate was. Regardless of who you were, everyone had one.
The strings were indicative of what the relationship would be like if the soulmates ever met.
For some, it was frayed and coming apart. For a minority, it was tangled with knots. For the majority, it was thin and barely even there.
But for God’s chosen select spirits, it was smooth and thick, gleaming with a glassy sheen and basically indestructible.
And, Gojo added with distaste as he stared at his ring finger, tied in a little neat bow.
It was no secret that Gojo was God’s favourite. His looks, his inherited curse technique…but having a perfect soulmate story? Really?
Due to his six eyes, he could see the string all the time. He wasn’t like other people, who could make it appear and disappear as they pleased. It was always there. Eating? It was there. Sleeping? It was there.
It could filter through walls and lead you to the direction your soulmate was, the other end of the string being tied to your soulmate’s hands. It could stretch and-
“ow!” Y/n gasped.
-if you tried to cut it, it would send a searing pain to both parties’ hearts.
“He tried to cut it again?” Y/n’s best friend Ichigo sighed. Her head rested on her left hand while her right hand held a giant mug of coffee. “Mhm,” Y/n responded. She was browsing the web for job opportunities at the local cafe. “Ooh! There’s this job offer at a nearby bank.” Y/n turned her laptop so Ichigo could see. Y/n was used to the pain now. At least once a month her soulmate tried to cut their string, to no avail. Y/n learned to be indifferent to this. She could still find love - not everyone ends up with their soulmate.
“Hey, What’s that?” Ichigo pointed a carefully manicured finger at a job proposal on the side of the screen. “Holy crap! It says Jujutsu tech!” 
“NO!” Y/n gasped, disbelief written across her face. She snatched the laptop out of Ichigo’s hands and her eyes traced back and forth the words of the job advertisement.
*Manager Job applications open* Right next to the advertisement was a funny little badge.
And Y/n knew exactly what that badge meant.
This was a job application for Jujutsu Sorcerors.
Unfortunately for Y/n, not everyone with cursed energy was cut out to be a Jujutsu sorceror. But Y/n had experience in corporate workplaces. She would definitely snag this job. 
She would 100% be a manager.
“Hopefully I’m not the manager of some bratty kids.” Y/n sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Wouldn’t it be worse if you were the manager for some snotty Special Grade?”
Y/n’s eyes widened. “God, that would be so terrible. Imagine being at the beck and call of a stuck up prick!”
Little did Y/n know, she wouldn’t have to imagine it for long.
(part 2 here)
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sky-dragon-03 · 2 months
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Bumbleby week
Day 3: Soulmates / Reincarnation
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Hope y’all like it 💜🐝
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i-think-in-metaphors · 3 months
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My valentines exchange work for @library-of-cronos :3. Doing a perspective piece like this was…interesting but kinda fun
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biohazard-inevitable · 11 months
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Red string of fate au with Ambrosious and Ballister where the arm that ambrosious cuts off is the one their string is attatched to and now ambrosious has to go through the emotions of the fact he cut off his way of knowing where ballister is and if he’s alright and annanzhxhabhdxhgzgs
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padawansuggest · 5 months
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Since I am obsessed with the red string of fate theory-
AU where Obi-Wan and Jango are dating. One day, since Obi-Wan was recently knighted, the council suggests he visits his birth family since he’s only had small contact with them since he was little, and it’s a practice they try to encourage.
Obviously Obi-Wan is all ‘oh great. A family reunion with all 7 of my siblings and 23 cousins and like seven aunts and uncles, this is gonna be great. At least they have sheep for me to cuddle’ and decides to go for it.
But since it’s gonna be chaos incarnate anyways. Let’s ask Jango if he wants to come with. It’s okay, because Stewjon is on the edge of Mando space so they’ll probably like his bf anyways.
Jango and Obi-Wan show up, they have a chaotic time with all the families, and Jango even thinks he should invite them all to Keldabe or maybe bring Jaster to meet them next time. Might as well become in laws. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, brought Shmi (who is flirting with one of his brothers lmaooo) and Anakin (who is being DOTED on by the fam) and so it’s all a big family now.
Anyways. One of those days Obi-Wan is pulled down to look through photo albums because that’s what families do.
And Obi-Wan stops on a photo that was taken a few months before he was sent to the Jedi temple. It’s a photo of a village fair they had that year, and he’s playing with some siblings while Mama and Daddy cook on the BBQ…
And in the background. Is a Mandalorian in full armor with an ad wearing their leathers. They look about nine or so.
Obi-Wan sees the pic and just fucking breaks down crying, because he hadn’t realized Jango was so cute as a kiddo, and that’s def Jaster Mereel, who hasn’t painted his armor a new colour in over twenty years, giving Jango an ice cream cone and looking so doting and loving on that ad it’s breaking all their hearts.
Anyways. They have copies made and hang it up everywhere they live and Jaster adores the picture. It’s sweet, and his boys look so happy.
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zosan modern soulmate au where everyone has a soulmate that connects them through a red string of fate.
Zoro and Sanji had been best friends since childhood. Sanji as a hopeless romantic had been dreaming of meeting his soulmate but somehow can't and still hasn't. Zoro doesn't care much (he likes Sanji for a long time, soulmate be damned) Sanji kept looking for his soulmate but their strings are so tangled, it's all over the place, into loops and knots that didn't make sense. He almost gave up thinking his soulmate did that on purpose since he didn't want Sanji. Zoro had enough of it and confessed that he'll be better than Sanji's soulmate will ever was. Sanji was moved and they kissed. Their string came untangled into one straight red with golden shine lime. Both are shocked but still happy about the revelation.
Sanji was pissed tho. His soulmate was by his side all along. It turns out, Zoro's lost all the time that made their string stretch and tangled.
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ps; wouldn't it be funny that one of their soulmate-hunting adventures. Sanji was following the string with Zoro by his side and they kept circling the city like into some random goose chase. Sanji gets frustrated. While Zoro thinks the soulmate was stupid for seemingly getting lost but also thinks the path feels so familiar.
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larkscern · 7 months
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red string (chain) of fate aus make me lose my mind
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kamisatomay018 · 7 months
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We are bound together, forever..
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Kamisato Ayato x Female Reader
As promised, a fanfic on the legend of the red string of fate! The winner of the poll was Ayato! This will be very fluff and pretty lengthy since it is a one shot. I hope you enjoy!
The waves crashed against the shore, birds flew together in harmony and trees swayed to the rhythm of the wind. The sun shone brightly, the fresh scent of flowers was spread all across the atmosphere. People were out and about, cherishing the beautiful day. Couples walked hand in hand, a man plucked a sweet flower and handed it to his beloved, smiling as her cheeks blushed. Married couples took their small children to the beaches, collecting seashells together, standing hand in hand watching their kids build sandcastles. In the Grand Narukami Shrine, newlyweds sought the blessings of the Sacred Sakura tree and prayed to the Almighty Shogun, asking for her blessings so that their love would be eternal.
Ayato stood on a hill near his home, alone and still. He watched people in love, young and old, their faces shining in happiness. Everyone else moved forward with their beloved, yet there he stood, alone with only half a heart, and half a soul. To the people of Inazuma, the Yashiro Commissioner was a powerful man, kind yet stern, and the most eligible and wanted man in the eyes of every woman. He took his duties so seriously, he was a loyal servant to the Shogun, and his hard work had been recognised by her and by all the citizens of Inazuma. He had a beautiful home, his sweetest sister, money, power, respect and authority. Surely he didn’t need anything else?
But what no one else understood was that behind the mask that the Yashiro Commissioner wore, existed a young and lonely man called Ayato. For years he had stood alone and strong for his sister, fighting countless battles ever since his parents passed away unexpectedly, leaving the Kamisato clan and the Yashiro Commission in his hands. Only Ayato knew the sacrifices, insults and threats he had faced when the reputation of his clan was in danger. Only he knew how he found the courage to face it all, being so young and alone. He did it for his sister, for his parents whose dying wish was for him to protect his sister. He had fulfilled his promise, his sister had grown up to be the kindest and prettiest young woman, delicate yet so strong, the Shirasagi Himegimi of the Yashiro Commission. His clan was now the most powerful and most trusted by the Almighty Shogun.
But what about him? What about his happiness? Ayato had never let anyone see how lonely he was, how tired he felt. He needed a companion, someone to love, someone to call his better half who would stand by his side, take care of him and allow him to just be himself. In the land of eternity, love was found by a beautiful legend of the Red String Of Fate. It was said that the electro Archon had blessed her people with a partner who was bound to them by destiny. A partner who would love them endlessly, whose love would be eternal and unchanging forever. After every person turned 18, they would be able to find their soulmate. Ayato had heard all sorts of stories of people finding their soulmates for the first time. His mother had once told him that the first time she saw his father, time stood still, their hearts beat in sync and a delicate red string appeared, tied to her little finger and to his father’s thumb. His mother said that this string can stretch endlessly, it can get twisted and turned, but never can it snap. She had told him that the day he would lock eyes with his soulmate, he would feel euphoria, a feeling of peace and fulfilment like any other.
Ayato had a gentle heart, and after hearing the story of his parents’ love, both him and Ayaka had been so excited to find their soulmates. Alas, soon after Ayato turned 18, his parents passed away and he left every desire of his, solely focusing on his clan and the safety of his sister. But now he was almost 26, inazuma was at peace and the feeling of loneliness had begun to eat away on his soul. He had travelled all over inazuma, but never found his soulmate. His duties kept him tied to his homeland, and he knew he couldn’t travel all over teyvat to find his other half. He also wanted to know how it felt to fall in love. He was so torn by watching everyone around him fall in love. Even his sister had found her soulmate, who to Ayato’s delight was their most trusted friend Thoma. Ayato had watched as the delicate string had magically appeared around his sister and Thoma’s fingers, and his heart was filled with joy. It had been a long time since then, and Ayaka and Thoma’s love had only grown.
His friend Chisato had found her soulmate to be Kujou Kamaji, and their love had withstood every difficult that presented itself to them. Ayato felt his heart filled with an overwhelming amount of sadness as he stood there on that hill, watching people in love. Perhaps this was his doomed fate, to live alone forever. He had the option of marrying someone else, but he wouldn’t. If his destiny was tied to someone, then how could he possibly betray such a magical bond? Perhaps his soulmate was far away in another nation, and they would never have the chance to meet. Or perhaps she was already in love with someone else. Ayato had slowly started giving up, accepting that perhaps not everyone is so lucky to find their soulmate. He took a deep breath, and turned his head around to see his sister approaching him, giving her a soft smile in order to mask the sadness filled in his Lavender eyes.
“Brother…please talk to me, what’s wrong? You’ve been looking so forlorn lately, it hurts me to see you like this. Don’t hide your pain from me at least, please?” Ayato chuckled softly. Nothing could escape from his sister’s watchful eyes. He stared at the ocean, responding to her request. “Everybody’s falling in love, and I’m falling behind.” Ayaka could feel the sadness in her brother’s usually cheerful voice, the impact of his words hitting her hard. She embraced him gently. “I have faith that you will find your soulmate very soon brother. Im sure about it..” Ayato caressed her hair gently, just like their mother would to comfort them when they were young. He could not find any words to say to that. Would he really find his other half in this lifetime? He had waited 8 years already. How much longer would he have to wait? Suddenly, a small gasp escaped Ayaka’s lips. What if, just what if, she knew who was destined for her brother?
“Brother, will you come with me to Ritou today?” He looked at his sister, smiling and nodded. He did not have any work today, and a walk with his sister would surely cheer him up. “Of course, that sounds lovely.” Ayaka became even more happy, a sudden hope blooming inside her heart. Today, after 10 years her only childhood friend was returning to Inazuma after completing her studies in Sumeru upon her parents’ wishes. Ayaka had received her letter a few days ago, informing her about her return back home to Inazuma.
The crux docked at the port of Ritou, and you stepped down with the help of your dear friend Kazuha. Finally, after a decade you were back home. You had missed inazuma terribly, and now seeing the Sakura trees in full bloom gave you a strong feeling of nostalgia. Over the years you had grown up to be a beautiful young woman, 24 years old. You had excelled in your studies at the Academia, and were blessed with a dendro vision. You were a skilled student, strategist and researcher. Not to mention your excellent fighting skills using a polearm. You smiled brightly, finally back home. “Your happiness is refreshing to see Y/N” spoke Kazuha’s gentle voice, making you chuckle. “Being back home is all I could’ve asked for, especially after everything that happened! You’re a hero here Kazuha!” He laughed softly, shaking his head as he led you inside the island of Ritou. “You flatter me, but we both know it was the traveler who really saved Inazuma. And it is our fortune that the Shogun also changed her mind and listened to our pleas.”
You both talked as Kazuha told you all about Ritou island. Everything had changed so much and you were in complete awe. “Well we are here. I’ll leave you here to meet up with Lady Ayaka. We shall meet tomorrow Y/N.” you smiled brightly, nodding at his words. “Alright, thank you Kazuha, I’ll see you tomorrow!” As you he left, you waited for Ayaka, while looking around. The season of spring was always your favourite, seeing the flowers in full bloom made you so happy. This was also when you could see so many people together in love, walking hand in hand. It made you crave for love too. You never had the time to even think of falling in love in Sumeru, your studies had kept you occupied. Moreover, being born in the land of eternity, you wanted to find your soulmate, you wanted the eternal bond your archon had blessed you with. Now that you were back home, you wanted to find your soulmate too. As you were looking around, you saw a lone flower amongst the freshly bloomed ones, withered and uncared for. You went towards it, summoning your dendro powers to make it bloom. You smiled seeing your powers work, and as you stood back up, you heard Ayaka’s voice call you.
“Y/N? Is that you??” You turned around, smiling happily as you walked towards her, embracing her. “Ayaka!! Oh how I’ve missed you, you’ve become so beautiful!” You heard her laugh softly, both of you paying no heed to the people around who marvelled at the sight of the Shirasagi Himegimi out and about, that too with a friend. “I could say the same about you, you look so radiant and beautiful!” You giggled softly at the praise, pulling apart to look at her. “Well I haven’t come alone, I also brought brother along with me! Come on, you have to meet him!” “Oh my, Ayaka you didn’t have to bother the Commissioner like this!” Ayaka simply laughed, shaking her head dismissively. “Oh don’t be so formal, he doesn’t even know why I’ve come here, he would’ve agreed regardless! Come on, let’s go!”
You laughed softly as Ayaka held your hand, leading you towards a tree in a little secluded area where you saw a tall man with pale blue hair standing with his back turned towards you both. My goodness, how were you going to greet the Yashiro Commissioner? “Brother!” You heard Ayaka say, and in the next moment, your life completely changed.
You saw him turn around, and the moment your eyes locked, time stood still. He was the most ethereal man you had ever seen. His every feature seemed as if it was sculpted by the gods themselves. If the word perfection was a human, it would be him. Your heartbeat accelerated, and you gasped softly feeling something around your little finger. There it was, The Red String of Fate.
Ayato was stunned. He was frozen in place, lavender eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He saw how the delicate Red String connected you both together, finally revealing itself. He had found his soulmate, and oh my, she was the most enchanting woman he had ever seen. Her beauty was unlike any other, the wind gently blowing her long silky hair as her bluish green eyes met his. Her dendro vision glowed, and in response he could feel his own hydro vision glowing. Their heartbeats synced, their souls celebrated in joy. Finally he was complete, he was no longer alone. His feet led him closer to her, his eyes so soft and so full of love for her already. This was the woman who was going to love him eternally, and he had already fallen in love with her. She was everything he could’ve ever asked for.
He walked towards you, and he could sense the big and expectant smile on his sister’s face. Ah, so it was her plan all along. He’d make sure to thank her plenty later on. He gently held his left hand out to you, a smile growing on his face as you placed your hand in his almost immediately. Both of you gasped softly, the touch sending butterflies and shivers to your bodies. “I’ve finally found you..” you heard his deep voice speak. He was so handsome up close, you felt like losing yourself in the warmth of his eyes. “Commissioner…I-“ “Ayato…please, call me by my name..” you blushed, the tenderness in his voice making your heart flutter. “What’s your name, my better half?” My god, this man was going to drive you mad by his sweet words. “I’m Y/N, Ayaka’s childhood friend..”
“Your name is as beautiful as you are. I know we have only just met, but I have been waiting for you all my life…you have no idea how happy I am Y/N..” to your utter shock, you saw tears in his eyes, and you immediately reached out to wipe them, your heart and soul instinctively wanting to love and protect him forever. So this is how powerful the bond was, it instantly made the soulmates feel each other’s pain. “Please don’t cry…forgive me, I was in Sumeru, I just came back today. I promise you I will never leave again.” Ayato smiled, leaning into your gentle touch. He was finally so happy, now his life was perfect and complete. He was no longer going to suffer alone, he was no longer going to stand on the hill, watching everyone run ahead of him. Now, he was no longer falling behind.
He gently hugged you, and you both felt your hearts beat against one another in sync. The bond felt so magical, your love for each other was already blossoming. Somehow you could feel how lonely he was, how much pain he held in his heart. He didn’t seem like a stranger at all, rather it felt as if you had known each other for ages. You gently caressed his hair, basking in his warmth. His embrace felt so loving, you felt safe and cared for, as if no harm could ever come to you here. Now, you were finally home. As ayato held you close in his arms, he looked at his dear sister with tears of happiness in his eyes. She was also crying, finally seeing her brother truly smile and be happy. Ayato mouthed a thank you to her, and she knew he was always going to thank her for bringing his soulmate into his life when he needed her the most.
The red string of fate connects not just two people, but two hearts, two souls and two lives. It is a bond that can never break, a love that can never fade away and a promise that lasts forever.
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paper-lilypie · 1 year
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haha dont you just LOVE being tethered to a machine at the behest of a self-serving trickster looking for a cheap laugh
was in a red string mood. Take these <3
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with a bonus humanized red string (curtesy of @starrspice and @thewordofm)
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loveforsatoru · 4 months
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Loved You Then, Love You Now- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Chapter 3: Kisses)
4/2/07:
The sun is beginning to rise as Shoko lazily walks around campus. She got back from her friend's place not too long ago, but decided to take a smoke break outside before going in. She didn’t want to wake you.
She’s leaning against the railing of the building, dozing off and letting her mind wander until she feels someone approach her. She looks to her side and it’s Suguru.
“You look roughed up.” She says, passing him her cigarette which he gladly accepts, taking a long drag.
“Yeah. I’ve been walking around town since last night. You should have seen what happened after you left.” He runs a hand through his hair a little too forcefully, like he was trying to rip the strands out.
“Calm down. At this rate, you’ll be bald before you hit 20. Tell me what happened.”
“Y/n and Satoru.” That's all he says, but it’s enough to give Shoko an idea of what he’s talking about.
“Oh yeah? What about them?” She smirks, chest swelling with pride. Only the second day and things are already happening. She can’t wait to see how this is going to play out in the long run.
“He had her in his arms or whatnot. She hugged back, gripping onto him like he was her lifeline. Pretty sure she was crying too. I don’t know why. He told me to stay quiet so as to not divert her attention away from him, and I did. I’ve been walking around since then, and haven't even gone back to my dorm room.” He flicks the cigarette off the railing, and begins picking at his bottom lip. He doesn’t remember the last time something like this has bothered him. He and Satoru rarely have any issues that deal with girls because they have different types. So why is it suddenly a problem when you’re here?
“So you’re jealous?” She asks, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. She doesn’t pull her stare away from the rising sun ahead of them.
“I don’t know? I don’t like her like that, so I don’t have a clue on why it’s bothering me this much. She’s been here for less than 48 hours but it feels like an eternity. I don’t want to bring it up to Satoru, not yet at least. I’d feel bad for coming in between them if he has feelings for her.” He groans, holding his head in the palms of his hands.
“It sounds to me like you’re in denial.”
“What are you talking about?”
She shakes her head, feeling like she’s the only one who has any common sense around here. “What do you think I’m talking about? You clearly have feelings for her. You just don’t want to admit it because you want to keep up some nonchalant attitude, carefree as if nothing bothers you. It’s fine to let go every once in a while. You’ll kill yourself if you keep this up.”
“I get what you mean, but it’s too early for me to decide if I have feelings for her or not. You know I’m not the type to rush into things without confirmation. The last thing I want to do is steal her away from Satoru just to find out that I was confused and don’t actually like her.”
Shoko rolls her eyes and makes a mocking face at him which he reciprocates.
“Whatever, do what you want. But don’t deny the fact that she is cute and you could potentially see yourself with her.”
“Whoever can’t notice how attractive she is must be blind, that’s undeniable, but I don’t want to hurt anyone in the process. Myself, Satoru and y/n included.”
“Mature as always.”
She's right, for as long as she’s known Suguru, he’s never made a decision without thinking it through. He has a strong sense of morality, most look up to him because of it.
“Did she tell you anything about it? Satoru, that is?” He asks.
She places her hands on her hips. “Nah, but I did make a bet with her.”
“What bet? You need to stop betting money. You’ll end up a broke gambler.”
“That she’d end up with either you or Satoru as her soulmate.”
He goes wide eyed, face palming at her response.
“What made you bet on that of all things?”
“It was just a hunch, but you know my hunches are rarely ever wrong, so I had a pretty good feeling about it and bet her 15,000 yen. She seemed interested in Satoru when she first got here, it was written all over her face. My guess is, she didn’t speak much to him at first because he gave off a strange impression by getting up in her face and everything. You know how he can be, but then she went on to realize he’s also sweet and calm, not always opening his mouth. That’s one of Satoru’s best charms. He can be loud and outgoing, but serious and romantic when he feels he should be.”
He listens intently to her explanation. Of course, neither of them have 100% confirmation if this was the case, but even then, Suguru felt his heart get struck with jealousy.
“I guess you’re right. Is she in her dorm right now? If she’s awake then I want to talk to her. I won’t bring this up or anything, but I’m the only one who hasn’t had a one on one conversation with her.” His tone is racked with nervousness. He feels like he’s about to throw up at something that shouldn’t matter to him.
“I doubt she’s awake, but I’ll go check.”
Shoko pushes her body off the railing and heads towards your shared dorm. She looks through the peephole and sees all the lights are off, not to her surprise. She picks up the key from under the doormat and slowly opens the door.
“Y/n?” She quietly calls out, but no response.
She walks further into the dorm room, not bothering to take off her shoes.
That’s when she sees you and Satoru curled up together. His head is dipped in the crook of your neck while you both hold each other. He protectively has both his arms around you while you cling to him. The sight makes her eyes soften. She walks over and pulls the blanket over the two of you who’ve been relying on each other's body heat to stay warm throughout the night.
She walks out with a small smile on her face. Suguru is still waiting by the railing.
“Is she in there?” He asks.
“Yeah, but she’s out cold. You’ll have to talk to her some other time.”
“What’s with the smile? Did something happen?”
“I doubt you’ll wanna see for yourself, but Satoru’s in there with her. If the world came crashing down right now, they’d die holding each other from the looks of it.”
He does nothing but nod.
“Good to know.”
It’s now quiet. Too quiet for either of their likings as awkward tension fills the air. What could this mean for the trio's friendship and their newly brewing one with you?
“Well, I’m off to sleep. Goodnight.” He waves her goodbye and shoves his hands in his pockets, walking away with heavy steps.
Shoko feels bad, but she won’t interfere. She’ll watch from the sidelines and offer advice when needed. There’s still time, anything could happen.
The sun beams through the cracks of the large sliding door. You don’t know what time it is, but you must’ve overslept.
You groan and rub the sleep out of your eyes, but when you try to get up, something is holding you down. You look to the side and see Satoru sleeping peacefully, arms snug around your waist, preventing you from getting up. You try to pry out of his grip, but it’s no use. He just holds onto you harder every time you attempt to get away from him. It’s not like you want to. You’d spend the rest of the day in bed with him if you could, but you need to get up and get yourself ready. Shoko’s not in bed, so you assume she must’ve gotten up already, not that you saw her come in at any point in the night anyway.
“Satoru,” You whisper in his ear, fighting off a giggle due to his bed head and face full of sleep.
He only mumbles a “What?” before pulling you back down onto him and falling back into his slumber.
You squeak at the sudden movement and blush at the close proximity. He looks so peaceful.
You take the time to closely look at his features. His long, white lashes, soft cheeks, but sharp jawline, and his plump lips pursed into a small pout.
You kiss the tip of his nose and tuck your hair behind your ears to prevent it from falling in his face. Missing a few classes won’t hurt. If there’s anything super important, Suguru or Shoko would come in to tell you guys.
Speaking of Suguru, you didn’t even get to say goodbye to him yesterday, You’ll have to make it up somehow.
But that thought quickly slips into the back of your mind when you see Satoru’s eyes staring right back at yours, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Hardly anyone can.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the way it picks up when you close the gap between your bodies.
“You.” His answer is plain and simple. You look up at him, expecting to see some form of teasing written on his face, but there wasn’t any. There was nothing but honesty in his words.
You feel a strange feeling overcome your body, it’s not bad, but it’s something you’ve never felt before. Years of isolation and abuse made you blind to these kinds of things. The sense of hope, happiness and love are all foreign to you. You can’t put your finger on why he’s making you feel this way. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Nobody’s ever told me that before, so I assumed you were joking, but it was clear that you weren’t and that confused me.”
He leans up on his elbows, threading his fingers through your hair and brings you in closer, his lips grazing against yours.
The air is thick, he hasn’t spoken a word. Not even a sound. His head is swirling with thoughts of you and how bad he wants to feel your lips on his.
You gulp, the closeness of your faces making you nervous. It’s like he’s playing a game with you, trying to see how long you can hold out before giving in.
“Have you ever kissed somebody before?” He whispers against your lips, his breathing heavy.
“No..” You’re insecure about missing out on so many regular teenage experiences, but no sorcerer is normal. Every one of them has their flaws. Some are just better at hiding it than others. Satoru happens to be one of them. His greatest flaw? Loving you.
“I’ll teach you.”
And he gently brings his lips to yours, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar sensation. His hand is cupping the side of your face while the other is settled on your thigh, massaging the skin underneath his fingertips.
You climb onto his lap, legs around his waist and hands on the back of his neck, digging into the skin. It burns, but he likes it. He falls against the pillows, but his hold on you doesn’t falter much like your lips moving in sync. His hands have left their previous locations and moved up, gripping onto your hips and kneading them with care, holding onto you like you’re the most fragile piece of glass. One wrong move and you’d break beneath his touch.
The world around you doesn’t exist right now. The atmosphere is still, quiet, everything you’re not used to. You can feel the intensity of Satoru’s feelings radiating off of him, like he’s been waiting years to do this. Only you could come into his life and make his mind spin with thoughts he’s never had before.
You reluctantly pull away for air, chest heaving and unmoving from your position on top of him, hands planted firmly against his toned abs with your legs straddling his waist. Your lips are glossed over and swollen, your shirt falling off the side of your shoulder. You look ethereal, like a goddess who came from Heaven down onto Earth in order to bless everyone with your beauty. It might be his new favorite sight.
He feels like a middle school boy in love. “How was it?”
“It was great..” There aren't enough words you could put together to describe what you feel. You want more. Need it, crave it.
But before you could dip your head back down onto his, the door to your dorm clicks open and Shoko stands at the entrance with a plastic bag in hand.
As she’s taking off her sweater and shoes, her gaze meets yours and embarrassment washes over you. Satoru does nothing but laugh, finding the awkward situation amusing. You quickly get off his lap and roll onto your respective side of the bed.
“What are you guys doing?! You seriously missed half the day for this?!”
Satoru raises an eyebrow. It’s that late already? It felt like the entire night had only been 5 minutes. “Half the day? What are you talking about?”
“It’s half past noon! Yaga was on my ass about where you two were and I had to cover saying you both got sick. You’re so lucky we didn’t do anything important today.” She grumbles, tossing you the bag before sprawling out on her bed.
“Sorryy, Shoko.” You catch the bag in your hands and begin sifting through it. “What’s in here?”
“A sandwich. I figured you’d be hungry, so I picked you something up from the convenience store. I wouldn’t have done that if I knew I’d walk in on you guys making out though.”
“Thanks. You didn’t have to. What time did you come back last night? I didn’t see you?”
“I got back hella late. You were fast asleep hours before, but I slept in Suguru’s dorm. Since this one made himself comfortable in ours and I didn’t want to third wheel.” She says, pointing at Satoru in which he playfully shrugs.
“Is there anything else for the rest of the day?” You unwrap the sandwich, taking a bite before feeding some to Satoru who keeps his eyes on you the entire time, not tearing away his peer for a second.
“No, surprisingly the cursed spirit rate has been low for the week, so we get the rest of the day off since there’s no missions or anything. They handed an easy grade 4 to the first years but that’s about it. We should go shopping though. The room is plain.” She sighs dramatically and tosses her hands up.
You feel Satoru’s hands beginning to roam your body once again. He has an arm behind his head while he gives you his best faux innocent look. You shoot him a glare before responding to Shoko, who could see everything going down, but chooses to ignore it to spare you some embarrassment.
“When do you want to go?”
“Right now.” She turns her attention to Satoru who is far too invested in you to notice the annoyance flooding out of Shoko’s voice for overdoing his stay. She clears her throat, but to no surprise, he doesn’t notice, or so he acts like it. He doesn’t care.
She gets off her bed and walks to yours, standing over it. You look at her, a piece of the sandwich in your mouth when she begins slapping and pushing Satoru to get him to leave. “Satoru! Out, out, out! This is my dorm too!”
He grumbles and gets up, throwing his sunglasses back on his face. “Fine, fine! You’re so lame.” But before he exits, he makes sure to give you one more tender kiss, running out immediately after once he sees Shoko’s seething expression.
She slams the door shut while you remain sat in bed like a child watching 2 siblings fight.
“So, are you gonna tell me what happened while I was gone?” She asks, crossing her arms and peering down at you as if she were your mother, ready to scold you for having a boy in your bed.
You shrink under her intense stare. “It was nothing like that! He just walked me home last night, came inside, and we went to bed..”
“Oh really? So why were you sitting on his lap when I came in? Hmm? Hmm?” With every word, she gets closer and closer to your face until your noses were practically touching.
“And I guess we kissed..”
“Just kissed, huh? I’m glad I walked in when I did. Anymore of that and he would’ve had to make a trip to the pharmacy for a pregnancy test.” As serious as she sounds, she finds joy in teasing you.
“Shoko!” You groan, pulling the covers completely over your head and burying yourself away. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Don’t worry! Your secret's safe with me.” She smiles and gives you a playful wink, imitating people kissing with her hands. “So, are you still a virgin?”
Her question makes you go red in the face. “Of course I am! That was only my first kiss!”
“Can’t blame me for asking.” She shrugs. “You’re pretty, confident, know how to fend for yourself, a little naive which you need to be careful with, but aside from that, it’s only natural for most to assume you’ve already had your first time.”
“How am I naive?” You always figured you were pretty mature and tough skinned. Perhaps you were wrong.
“Not naive in a childish way if that's what you were thinking, but sometimes, you seem oblivious and distrusting to the world around you, like a lost soul in a sense. I don’t know if that comes from being shut away for most of your life, but you can’t seem to take hints. There’s nothing wrong with that, it just means you need to pay more attention to when people tell you things.”
You nod along, somewhat grasping what she’s saying.
“About Satoru..” She begins. “What do you think that was? The kiss and whatever you guys did the night before. Him being friendly or do you think he likes you?”
“I don’t know… at first I thought he was just being nice, but something about him makes me think it’s more than that.”
“That’s your problem. You don’t notice when people are trying to give you hints. If anyone else were in your shoes, their first thought would be that the other person has feelings for them. Ultimately, it ends up hurting and confusing the one you’re involved with if you play off their antics like it’s nothing. Do you know why you’re like this? Do you think it’s naivety or something else?”
“I don’t know… The way he acted earlier surprised me. I asked him what he was thinking about, he said me, and my first instinct was to ask why.”
Your response confuses her. What person in their right mind would ask why the one they spent the night with was thinking about them? “And why’s that?”
“I guess I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think he’d actually harbor feelings for someone like me.”
Someone like you? What the hell are you talking about?
The more you speak, the more she begins to worry. How are you saying all this with a straight face? No tears, no anger, no shouting. Nothing at all. It’s almost scary, uncanny. She knows if she felt that way, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. “Do you think there’s something wrong with you?”
“I just think I’m unloveable.”
“Who told you that?”
“It’s the one thing I’ve been told my entire life. It’s something you get used to and eventually becomes engraved into your head. I always thought the possibility of someone liking me was zero. I guess that also stems from my own insecurities of not feeling like I’m good enough.”
Shoko knows the Zenin Clan is awful, anyone with a brain in the Jujutsu Society is aware of that, but to think that it’d alter the way someone thinks and views things is on another level.
“Does Satoru know you feel this way?”
You shift around in your bed, sitting with your knees tucked under your chin. “No..”
“Do you plan on telling him?”
“Eventually, but it feels too early. I’ve only been here 2 days. I need to wrap my mind around everything first.”
“Alright, it’s up to you. But get ready so we can go furniture shopping.”
You and Shoko spent hours roaming around almost every furniture store in the area. Your feet are sore, arms about to fall off from the stuff you guys are carrying and she still wants to look at more.
“Shokoooo! This is way too much stuff! Do we really need all of this?” You complain, slacking forward in a hunchback position.
She’s barely breaking a sweat despite the 4 bags on each arm. “Of course we do. Our dorm is plain and boring. We’ll be spending the next year there, you know. It needs to be cozy, our own temporary home.”
“Yeah, but when summer breaks rolls around, you’ll go home and I’ll be left all alone in a dorm filled with things. I’ll start to get claustrophobia.”
She doesn’t want to question why you won’t go home for summer break. That’s self explanatory.
“I’m sure one of the guys wouldn’t mind letting you spend the summer with them.”
“I couldn’t possibly ask them for that big of a favor. It’s fine, I’ll rent a beach house for myself or something.”
“You underestimate how much they like you, but suit yourself. Let’s go check out some curtains!” She drags you by your arm, pulling you across the populated streets into yet another furniture store. Any more of this and you might just have to ask to switch roommates.
The walk back to school was horrid. You’re panting, sweating like a pig and dragging the bags to your dorm.
“This is all your fault. You have a shopping addiction and it needs to be checked.” You say, in between breaths.
She rolls her eyes and flips you off to which you dramatically gasp. You enjoy being around her, she gets you. Having a strong bond with another girl is nice. You spent years in your cramped room watching tv shows and there was always a pair of best friends that got through everything together. With each moment that goes by, you find yourself wanting that with Shoko. Her, your best friend for as long as she can.
You slump against the door of your dorm room, eager to get everything inside. Shoko fumbles through her purse, searching for the key.
“Hurry up! I need to lay down!”
“Shut up! You whine like a toddler.”
She finally undoes the lock and you rush inside, tossing the bags upon bags on the counter before laying down in bed, sighing as the soft mattress soothes the tension in your back.
But your taste of freedom and relief doesn’t last long when someone walks in through the dorm, calling your name.
“Y/n?”
You block out the voice with your pillows, pretending you can’t hear whoevers looking for you.
“She’s in her bed,” Shoko says.
The voice calls out again, “Y/n?”
You poke your head out, and Suguru is standing in front of you.
“Sorry if I’m bothering, but can I talk to you for a second? Alone?”
You look back at Shoko and she motions for you to go ahead.
“Yeah sure, it’s no problem.”
You throw your legs off the bed and he leads you outside, watching your form as you walk.
You both sit down on a bench in front of the school fountain. Since he hasn’t said anything, you decide to start the conversation.
“Where’d you go last night? I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
He scratches the back of his head. He doesn’t want to say that Satoru told him to leave. “I had to go visit someone who came into town.”
“Sorry for not getting the chance to talk to you as much. I’ve been busy figuring some stuff out and Shoko asked me to go shopping with her. I wanted to apologize for not noticing you had left last night, but things came up and I completely forgot.”
The sound of your voice fills his ears as he listens attentively to your explanation and apology. Guilt was written all over your face for something that wasn’t your fault. It’s cute.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But What did you want to talk to me about?” You’re playing with the hem of your almost too short skirt that stops at your upper thighs. Suguru is shamelessly staring like a pervert who enjoys the sight way too much. He wants to touch you, feel you, be the one to stay in bed with you instead of Satoru, but he knows he can’t have that.. Yet.
“Satoru was with you last night, right?”
"Yeah," you nod, giving him confirmation he needs. He knows Shoko told him hours prior when they were talking at the railing, but he was hoping it was just his mind playing games on him.
Speak of the devil. Satoru approaches the two of you and wraps his arms around you from the back, gently gripping your jaw to meet his face with his long, slender fingers before giving you a kiss, but it’s different from the one you shared back in your dorm a few hours prior. It’s sweet, but mixed with something different. It’s possessive, sloppy as he chases your tongue with his own, mixing your saliva together. He has you nearly moaning in his mouth.
The sight makes Suguru’s blood boil and Satoru knows it.
You ultimately break away from the kiss, keeping your hand laced in his hair. “Hey, Satoru-”
Before you can get another word out, he sits down on the other side of the bench and pulls you onto his lap, letting his hands roam around your skirt. “Hi, angel. What are you guys talking about?”
Angel. That’s new.
“He was just-” You begin, but get cut off by Suguru.
“Nothing. I wanted to talk to her for a bit. It wasn’t important.”
“Are you sure? You seemed pretty nervous about something when you went into my dorm.” You say, tilting your head to the side.
Immediately, Satoru’s grip on you gets tighter.
“Yeah, Suguru. If you were nervous then something must be up.” He raises his eyebrows and attempts to mask his scowl with an airheaded smile, acting like he doesn’t know anything that’s going on.
Suguru begins to grow more impatient with the white haired boy. He doesn’t want to talk about this in front of you. “Leave it alone, Satoru. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, are you sure? I think it had everything to do with me.”
You turn your head away to look at something out in the distance and for that second, Suguru almost rips Satoru’s head off, shooting him the nastiest look.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Suguru retorts.
“I was just going to say we should go to the pool tonight after it closes. We could buy drinks, bring our own stuff and stay there until morning.” Satoru says, still holding you firmly on his lap.
“Why after is closes?” You ask.
Satoru begins to play with the ends of your hair. “It’s more fun. We’ll have the entire place to ourselves. Could you give Suguru and I a minute though? Tell Shoko about the plans for tonight too.”
You scrunch your eyebrows, but nod, giving him an “okay.”
“Thanks, angel.” He kisses you before you get up, walking back to your dorm room. He makes sure you’re far away enough to start talking to Suguru.
“Seriously, what were you talking to her about?” He stands up, balling his hands into fists which were currently inside his uniform pockets.
“It’s none of your business.” Suguru stays in his place on the bench, watching Satoru’s expression grow in irritation.
“Was it about last night? Were you trying to ask her what happened?”
“So what if I was?”
“It shouldn’t concern you. If you wanted to know anything, you should’ve just asked me.” Satoru’s voice leaks frustration.
Suguru now stands up as well. “But I wanted to hear it from her, not you.”
“Why? What difference does it make?”
“It doesn’t, but I wanted to talk to her and hear it from her. I was looking to get some sort of mental relief, but it didn’t do anything besides make things worse.”
Despite Suguru standing, Satoru still towers over him due to their difference in height.
“Mental relief? What are you talking about?”
“I think like her, Satoru. I’m sorry. I thought about it and tried to convince myself that it wasn’t serious, but I couldn’t help it. I keep thinking about her. How I want to get to know her better, kiss her, be with her, be in her.” Suguru says the last part with an edge in his voice, trying to get a rise out of Satoru and see how grave he’s taking this whole ordeal with your sudden enrollment and newfound position in their lives.
And it worked, Satoru pushes him and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, the fabric threatening to tear. “Suguru, don’t you ever fucking think of touching her, much less being the one to do that with her.”
He puts his hands up in protest, “Alright, alright. I wasn’t being serious about that part, but I do like her. I didn’t want to come between the two of you, I thought I should just let you know." He knows he told Shoko he wanted to think it through more, but he can’t think properly when it comes to you.
Satoru lets go and walks away back to their dorm without responding. The two of them rarely get into disagreements, but there’s certain things they don’t see eye to eye on. Morals, Suguru lives by them, Satoru hates them. And you, Suguru wants you, but Satoru is bound to you for eternity.
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Note
Hiii i lovee your ficsss and i especially love the red string of fate workkk you should definatelyyy make that a seriesss
Thank you anon!!!
I shall deliver🫡
First part of the red string series here
(this is a gojo satoru fanfic btw)
Tag: @sapphireandange
-Quick overview-
In this world where the mythical red string that connects you to your soulmate exists, the type of string indicates what your relationship will be like.
Y/n's string is perfect and smooth, indicating that her relationship with her soulmate will be perfect.
Unfortunately for Y/n that luck doesn't extend very far because her soulmate keeps trying to sever the bond (which causes pain to both parties) and Y/n is currently unemployed. But have no fear! In this chapter, she gets recruited for the job as a manager at Jujutsu Tech.
Fingers crossed her new boss isn't an egotistical prick whose red string is connected to hers!!!😍😍😍
**
“Jesus Gojo. This would be your…twenty sixth manager this year?” Shoko picked up the records from the table, eyes widened with incredulity. Gojo shrugged, clearly taking it as a compliment. “I’ve scared off all of them.” Pride was laced in his words. “It says here that your seventeenth manager didn’t even last a day - what do you do to your managers?” Nanami looked over Shoko’s shoulders, then back at Gojo disapprovingly.
“Nothing. My presence is too great for their puny little weakling brains.” He crossed his arms, and Nanami understood why those managers all left. Gojo was, for lack of a better word, an absolute prick to anyone who was weaker than him so…he was a prick to everyone.
“I’m supposed to be meeting my new manager today actually.” Gojo grinned like a hunter meeting prey. “What was your bet again?” Gojo said as an afterthought. Nanami thought bets were pointless, but nontheless he still raised a bet. “I bet $50 that your new manager won’t last a week.” 
Shoko chuckled. “You’re too kind Nanami. I bet $100 that they won’t last a day.”
**
Okay Y/n. This is it, you thought.
The only thing seperating you and your future boss were the tatami doors in front of you. You thought you were having a conniption.
He’s NOT going to be as bad as you think he’s going to be, you reasoned. Brains just have a tendancy for expecting the worst.
Right?
With that optimistic though in your head, you slid the doors to the side and stepped in.
Your boss was sitting face first on the table, completely motionless. HIs hair was white - you’ve never seen anyone with that kind of hair before.
God, his stillness was offputting. It was almost like he was-
DEAD? Terror seized your gut and sirens immediately began to shriek in your head.
You were panicing, freaking out, and you had absolutely no idea what to do. If you were the main character of a shounen anime, perhaps you would’ve checked the body, or done something heroic. But you, Y/n, were a failed jujutsu sorceror. 
So naturally you reached for the tatami doors to get out-
Someone grabbed your wrist.
You turned around, surprised there was someone else in the room.
“AHHHHHHHHH!!!” 
You supposedly ‘dead’ boss was standing, completely alive and well, somehow crossing the room in literal milliseconds. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was deep and rough. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, turning his back to you to look out the windows overlooking Jujutsu Tech. He stretched, his yawn obnoxiously loud.
“To the…bathroom!” You wanted to melt into a puddle in the ground and evaporate. “You’re my new manager. But I call the shots around here.” He said, broad back still facing you. You nodded, then realised he couldn’t see you nodding. “Yes. Okay.” 
“First rule as your boss: you’re not allowed to go to the bathroom when you’re on duty.” 
…what.
You blanched. 
How the hell were you supposed to do your business?
You bit your tongue. Remember Y/n...you’ll get paid. Your first paycheck. Come on….you urged yourself not to run out of the room.
“Okay.”
“Second rule. You’re not allowed to raise your voice above 60 decibels. Your scream nearly made me go deaf.”
You seriously didn’t know how you could tell how loud your voice was at all times, but you forced yourself to picture the feeling of the smooth, paper envelope. How the envelope slightly bulged in the middle, due to the money inside. You imagined yourself peeling it open and taking out the money- 
“Third rule. I expect you to answer me whenever I tell you something.” His voice was already disapproving, and he turned around to coldly asses you, his blue eyes sharper than knives-
He stopped dead.
For some reasons, without even initiating the red string vision, it flickered to life. 
Huh? You thought. You glanced down at your ring finger. 
Why is the vision on…? You wondered as you followed the thick red string further, and further…
Until it tied in a neat bow on your boss’ ring finger.
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acupofqueercoffee · 2 years
Text
“So deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me”
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Lady Lesso x Ever Reader
cw : soulmate au // blood and injury // angst and hurt comfort // fluff // bffs lesso x dovey // age gap // older woman x younger woman
wc : 5500 ish
ao3 — https://archiveofourown.org/works/42983871
I love the fact that we are all collectively simping for Lady Lesso. Everywhere I go, I see her. Also, is it just me or does it make you incredibly happy when someone you’ve followed for some other women you love began posting contents of this new woman that you’ve just fallen for? No? Just me? Ok.
Fyi, the title is from Ben L’Oncle Soul version of Frank Sinatra’s I’ve got you under my skin
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You have always deemed your parents the quintessence of the vows “in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health”.
There has been a period of time where your jovially energetic mother has peculiarly lost her enthusiasm.
One of the first few signs is exhaustion. The woman who used to be on her feet all day with gusto, executing a whirlwind of tasks about the house, would become short of breath with only a handful of movements.
Then, comes heart palpitations, which eventually lead her to collapse in bed. When it happens, your father has been there for her, taking the houseworks upon himself on top of his own workload. Along with you, your father would take your mother to see a physician before he would, then, have to continue on to his job.
He has to burn the candle at both ends, juggling between his work and taking care of his wife. You help as much as you can, but still, bigger responsibilities fall on your father’s shoulders. Tirelessly, he works day in and day out, never complaining one bit.
The silver lining to it all is that your mother’s case is not so much a decline in health than an ailment, so after a few days of taking prescribed medicines coupled with bed rest, the jovially energetic woman makes her spirited return.
As it so happens, your father comes home one day with a flu, and despite exercising social distancing amongst the three of you, the whole family unfortunately falls prey to the disease.
Whilst recovering however, in the death of one night, the town officials appear on your doorstep, taking your father away on the grounds that he has to be interrogated for an alleged crime.
In the morning, he does not return home. Nor does he within the next day. Eventually, a day melts into two, three. Then, days grow into a week. A week becomes weeks.
Your mother has not been sitting idly by during all that time; she contacts her husband’s friends, does everything within her capability to get even a trace of his news.
Your father is a real people person. If there is one thing he has in abundance, it is friends, and they are good friends, offering to help in any way they can, and indeed, consistently helping your mother in pursuing news of your father’s whereabouts.
The painstaking efforts have had no luck so far, until after having no traces whatsoever of him for a whole month, you and your mother are finally informed of the news that he will be put on trial.
As it turns out, your father has been unfairly accused of a crime that he has not committed, and subsequently detained for it.
You and your mother have gone to meet him a couple of times already, and the both of you are pleased and relieved to find that he is doing well, cheeks getting chubbier and appearing as radiant as ever.
You find the whole ordeal but a testament to their unyielding love for each other.
There have been inevitable arguments between the two of them. But, it is, you suppose, what makes their connection, all the more admirable. Getting to grips with disagreements and surmounting obstacles hand in hand, they nurture their imperfectly perfect tale with conflicts and reconciliations, cries and apologies, curses and sweet nothings.
“After all, what is love without a little pain?”
Your mother has said to you one evening, sitting on the porch and knitting a hat for her dearest husband.
“Your father, he is my one true. People usually say that you will see it. But, my darling girl, mama has to disagree. When you find them, you will feel it.” Her palm rests on your chest. She smiles, drops her voice to a whisper as if what she is about to say is confidential. “In here.”
And indeed, feel you do as soon as your eyes behold her.
Funnily enough, the fated encounter comes as a by product of chasing after your cat, Eclipse for she has midnight sky for fur. After running after her all over the Great Lawn like a headless chicken, you find her sitting curiously at the feet of someone.
Up until this point, you have been in a single-minded pursuit of your cat that everything else has been a blur. Yet, by the time you stand up after gathering your beloved furball in your arms, you are enthralled by the vision before you, so enthralled in fact that you do not realise the proximity of your bodies.
How curious, you muse, that you are bombarded with a queer indecipherable feeling, as if a piece of you, that you do not realise has been missing, has returned to you at long last.
“Get that repulsive thing away from me.”
A voice, rich and smokey, jostles you out of your musings, a tip of a cane landing atop your chest to push you away.
Her lips are pulled tight into a scowl, you notice, and the only thought whirling around your empty head is that this woman is absofuckinglutely captivating, very much the epitome of handsome and gorgeous combined.
And then, before you can formulate a response, she is gone, dark stilettos drumming against the floor with every elegant footfalls of those impressively long legs.
Only then do you see it, a red silky thread coiled around her pinky, stretching across the distance between the two of you, then twining itself round yours.
And just like that, you have found your one true.
────────────────────
Finally being made aware that the fairytales you have grown up loving after all this time, are real does not make you as happy as it is supposed to.
Instead, you are busy envying the nevers who get to interact with the dean of the school for evil on a daily basis, and it does not help either that the woman seems to be deliberately avoiding you like you are the very plague.
Every time she sees so much as a shadow of you, she flees the room. When you try approaching her in front of other people, she disregards your existence altogether.
Fed up to the back teeth with her unreasonable behaviour, you foolishly decide the best course of action would be to confront her, and thus, you find yourself standing in the middle of her study one afternoon.
“Do you plan on keep ignoring me, Lady Lesso?”
“Who says you could come as you please into my study?”
“Why do you keep turning a blind eye to me?”
“Riddle me this ever, what obligation have I to take notice of you?”
Her aloofness stings as well as irritates you, and exasperated, you thrust your arm out, as if it isn’t the elephant in the room.
“Isn’t this reason enough?”
“It is but a worthless string.”
“It’s a string that ties us together. Does it mean absolutely nothing to you?”
A nonchalant hum.
A beat. A painful throb of your heart.
“Lady Lesso, why do you dislike me so?”
“Now, don’t be presumptuous, little girl. Aside from disinterest, I harbour not an ounce of feeling towards you. Your significance to me is as existential to me as my love for cats.”
“But I thought you hated Eclipse?”
“Exactly.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
“How mean of you.”
“I’m the dean of the school for evil. Does that suggest anything to you?”
“And I am your soulmate. Does that suggest anything to you?”
“Soulmate this. Soulmate that. How utterly risible! It is sheer folly that leads you to believe that two literal strangers can magically, readily feel something deep and profound for each other. I don’t give a flying fuck who my soulmate is. Your existence matters not to me. In fact, it in itself is a downright insult to my face. An ever, a student and a reader at that? I simply do not care.”
Tears of frustration have been pooling in your eyes, but those that finally cascade down your cheeks are tears of dejection.
“Ever since you’ve appeared in front of me, you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my flesh. So, yes, it does suggest to me that you are a pesky little vermin.”
“All it takes is a flick of my finger,-” Suddenly, the tip of her forefinger starts glowing, and before you know it, you watch, crestfallen, as the little red thread is instantly reduced to dust. “-and there, this “our tie” that you’re so annoyingly fixated on is no more. Now, leave me alone. I certainly have far more important things to attend to than deal with this tomfoolery.”
You return to your dormitory a snivelling mess.
You have half a mind to believe that it is heartbreak that has you descending into an awful illness come morning.
────────────────────
After you have run out of her study, Leonora has been left transfixed by the staggering pain that has marred your features, unable to do anything productive for the rest of the evening.
She has thought that without those annoyingly captivating eyes perusing her every move, her heart would not feel as jittery. She has been certain that she would get satisfaction out of her little display of cruelty, and she has, if only for a while, but now, her mind is relentlessly plagued by the images of you. As soon as she has hit you with those words, it is like a dam has been broken behind those big wounded eyes.
It happens three days ago, and she has not seen you ever since. As much as she loathes to admit it, lately, all she can think of is you. In classrooms amidst teaching, at night as she lies awake in bed, it is always your agonised little face sullied with tears that makes a repeated appearance.
You have cried as if physically harmed.
She almost feels bad then, and now, she does.
Regret always comes too late, does it not?
“Why, pray tell, is the dean of the school for evil skulking about the corridors of the school for good?”
She doe not even realise that she has mindlessly wandered off to your school until a sickeningly sweet voice reaches her ears.
Slowly, she swivels on her heels, signature cane in one hand, an equally sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face.
Her lips have just moved to utter something when she is rudely interrupted by an ever.
“Lady Dovey, I’ve searched the whole perimeter but there’ve been no signs of her.”
It is none of her concern and yet, oddly, she is inclined to ask. “No signs of who?”
And, to her dismay, it is your name that falls out of the other dean’s lips.
After impatiently listening to the detailed recount of your last known whereabouts, subsequently learning that you have been sick in bed, she storms out of the school for good, intent on conducting a surreptitious search of her own.
On her way back to her school, coincidentally, she happens upon a group of nevers. She sees them talking animatedly and hears them all collectively laughing over the story of hexing an ever.
Neither is it strange nor wrong to have nevers and evers going against each other’s throats, but there is something particularly strange about this conversation that is rubbing her up the wrong way.
Soon, she understands why, and simultaneously, her anger is justified once they mention your name.
────────────────────
Your wounds sting, your body aches and your head throbs, contrapuntal with the relentless pounding of your haywire heart. Around you, the naked branches creak, crows cackle, stymphs squeal and various other inhabitants of the forest sneer.
Emitting a cacophony of condescending noises, the woods itself seems to be making a mockery of your misery. Even the moon, in her full golden glory, appears to be looking down on your sorry state from her majestic onyx throne.
Should you were within the comfort of your dormitory, the occasional zephyr would have been a soothing, charming embrace, but currently as you are with nothing more than a flimsy silk on your frame, it is anything but charming.
You are not sure whether it is the spiricks’ venomous bites finally rearing their ugly heads or the weather being particularly unforgiving tonight as the chilliness seeps into your bones, and seems to swell from deep within. In the end, you conclude that it must be a combination of both taking a toll on you, for there is a profound aching agony blooming from beneath the area where their fangs have sunk into your flesh. It does not help either that some of the deeper cuts you have sustained continue to ooze blood, liquid crimson making a macabre artwork of the blank canvas that is your nightdress.
Unconsciousness sounds like a rather enticing idea right about now, but the wicked woodland does not appear too keen on giving you even a semblance of reprieve. No sooner have you entertained the thought than come the rustling noises from the inky thickets adjacent the tree under which you are taking sanctuary.
Scrambling to your feet is instantly proved a careless mistake when, under the influence of a woozy mind and on your wobbly legs that appear to have suddenly lost their purpose, you topple over. Along with a pained little grunt, you lean against the thick mossy trunk, bracing yourself for what you believe to be the imminent danger.
However, all the fear and trepidation that have taken hostage of your mind ebb away once an impeccably dressed woman enters your vision. Her arrestingly gorgeous red curls backdropped by the golden glow of the moon serves as a halo befitting a dark goddess.
If you didn’t know any better, you might have found it puzzling: the fact that her presence alone has the effect of a calming salve on your mayhem of a mind. It swaddles your whole body in an invisible cloak, soothing stings and healing wounds, suffusing warmth and supplying solace.
All this time, your subconscious mind has been desperately craving her, you realise with a start at the lack of surprise and abundance of relief upon seeing her. During the last few days, it has gone as far as daring to harbour the flimsiest of hopes that she will find you while the more logical part of your mind keeps reminding you that she has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing, absolutely nothing in fact, to do with you. Your last interaction itself is proof enough of that claim, and your wishful thinking regardless of what she has said to your face, is certainly proof enough of your, as she likes to put it, folly.
Then, as a gust of wind plucks sickly leaves out of fragile branches, forcing you to shake on your feet in a similar fashion, a coat suddenly lands on your shoulders, shielding your trembling frame from the assault of the freezing air.
The residual heat from her body seeps into your skin. The familiar fragrance of the dean, dark, rich and dangerous with wonderful woodsy notes, leaves a trail of blood red roses in its wake. Your arms lock themselves around your body, savouring each whiff and soaking every droplet. The combined senses warm you to the core.
On the other hand, you muse with bittersweet fondness that perchance, this is as close to being cocooned in her arms as you will ever come. The sad reality instantly drenches you in thick melancholy.
When your eyes meet the dean’s, dewy though they are with unshed tears, they lack the shine of which she has always been rather fond, she has now just realised, and the realisation hits her like a ton of bricks.
Drowning in your wounded eyes while being well aware that she is unequivocally the culprit, it is well-nigh torture for her not to engulf your dainty frame in her arms. The apparent fragility of its current state is the only reason behind her hesitation to do so.
However, when you stagger on your feet like a newborn fawn, as if possessing a mind of their own, her hands move to hold you on your delicate waist. Immediately, your fingers, lovely and lithe, find home on her forearms, maintaining a determined grip. If she has oh so foolishly thought that this little electrifying contact is going to be the death of her, imagine her absolute bewilderment once your forehead falls onto her chest, dainty digits digging into the fabric of her waistcoat.
An aggressive exhale through her nose is a poor attempt to prevent herself from gasping audibly, a not so flawless facade masking her crumbling resolve.
A muffled little whimper that subsequently drizzles out of your lips is as much a candy to her ears as it is toxin to her mind.
The string that ties the two of you together is now but a flickering red. This usually is a sign of one’s soulmate being in a potentially life threatening condition. She has said such bitter, hatful words to your lovely little face, intentionally injected poison into your veins, simultaneously making you believe that you are absolutely unwanted by the one true who is meant only for you.
Instead of making her feel liberated as she has stubbornly believed, it has weighted heavily on her heart ever since those words, acidic in nature, have left her nefarious lips, and now throbs a pang of guilt, unforgiving and relentless, as your eyes, as shimmery as a moon reflected in a pond, seek her face once more.
“Y- you came.”
Your voice is worryingly feeble, breath ragged, tapering to a choked sob, crumbling into sporadic wheezes.
“Shhh, I’ve got you now.”
A gentle thumb traces a tear as it trickles down your cheek, plucking the blossoming droplets out of your lashes before they burgeon and burst.
A breath catches in her throat when you nuzzle your peachy soft cheek into her palm like a sweet, affectionate kitten.
However, the swaying of your body coupled with the crimson cuts on your once faultless skin reminds her once more of the alarming state you are in.
Hooking an arm under your knees and twining the other round your back, you are effortlessly lifted into her arms, cradled close to her chest. Cheek pressed against her bosom, one of your arms wind up around her elegant neck while your fingers seize her collar in a white-knuckled grip, as if letting her go would colour you crazed.
“Let’s get you out of this godforsaken woods.”
Her voice is the last thing you hear before consciousness slips into oblivion, with the last thing on your mind being if it meant being alone with her, then you wouldn’t mind staying trapped inside the endless woods even if indefinitely. Deem you selfish or even mad for thinking so but as long as you get to be in the receiving end of her concern, you consider a couple of nasty wounds but a small price to pay.
────────────────────
With a broken little darling bird tightly secured in her arms, the dean of the school for evil makes a hasty return.
No sooner has she taken a step into the school grounds than out strolls the dean of the school for good, frazzled and clearly vexed.
“Where in the great lawn have you-” Upon seeing not one but two people, one of which has been declared missing for the past couple of days, she cuts herself off with a gasp, “Where did you find her?” , inching closer to examine the queer little bundle in her evil counterpart’s arms.
When her queries aren’t answered, she knows better than to press, understanding immediately that there is more to it than meets the eyes. Even when she notices that they are not heading towards the school on the right, but the left, piqued though her curiosity is, she asks no questions until someone else does it for her.
“The school for good is this way. Where are you taking her?”
She recalls this lad as a prince endeavouring fruitless attempts at wooing you. Sighing internally, she muses, distracted by her recollections, Just how clueless can he get! You are clearly not interested.
“She’s been lost for days. She must be terribly malnourished, to say nothing of the state she’s in. We need to get her immediate medical attention.”
She wants to feel sorry for her student when he moves to arrogantly pry you out of firmly fixed arms, but she is more intrigued by her friend’s reaction to pay him any mind.
“Touch her if you dare and bid your hands farewell.”
One glance at the red head is enough for Clarissa Dovey to see her true emotions. On the front, her friend’s mien betrays nothing, quintessence of cool and collected. It may work in fooling other people but Clarissa Dovey is not just other people. They go way back and, albeit unintentionally, she has mastered the art of fathoming this intricacy of a person.
She sees it all in those foxy eyes; behind their frosty aloofness lies a brewing storm of anger, desperation and anxiety, sprinkled with just a touch of possessiveness.
“I must tend to her myself. I can’t even for a fraction of a second let her out of my sight.”
Clarissa Dovey knows that the declaration is directed at her, an almost imperceptible crack in her facade as her voice wavers, but she has noticed it all the same.
And, as she watches her friend swiftly disappear into the school for evil with one of her ever students cradled close to her chest, “Don’t.” , she shakes her head at the puzzled lad whose eyes seem to be overflowing with incredulity. “Let them be.”
She thinks she has deciphered the gist of her friend’s odd behaviour.
────────────────────
With every bit of skin that is revealed to Leonora’s intense scrutiny, too, comes a new wound to add to the gradually increasing collection.
The bite on the left side of your chest is arguably the most dreadful of them all. She has magically extracted as much venom from your system as she can manage, being extra careful to instantly heal most of the superficial cuts closed while giving ample attention to the more serious injuries that necessitate organic healing.
Gingerly, she cleans the wounds, stitches them extremely cautiously if stitches are warranted. Once she is satisfied with her work, she dresses them with pristine white linens, and you, in one of her dress shirts.
The sight of you in nothing but her white shirt is a rather dangerous vision, she decides as she tucks you under the covers, and flees the room under the guise of putting the soiled linens away. The pull between the two of you has suddenly become overwhelmingly powerful that she fears it will stoke the flame within her lest she puts some distance.
As long as you are under the same roof as her, she will be fine, she reasons.
“How is she?”
The voice that soon greets her is her friend’s.
“Still unconscious but thankfully, out of the woods. Venom has been extracted and I’ve dressed her wounds. Well, some of it at least.”
The blonde has joined her by her side as she rummages in her potions cabinet for something equivalent of multivitamin supplements to give you. So, she stops, turns to face her best friend, her only confidante.
“Dovey, I said some hateful things to her. I treated her quite horribly. I don’t know if she’s ever going to forgive me for it.”
Resuming her search, she utters her terrible confession.
“It was I who pushed her away, and yet, being away from her, truly away from her, it was awfully unbearable, as if, as if a piece of my heart is being ripped away.“
A hand lands on her shoulder.
“That’s even more reason for you to make it up to her. She needs you as much as you need her.”
The eyes that greet her upon making contact are kind, gentle, and full of wisdom, not anything near the usual Dovey who revels in throwing merciless quips at her with a fiery passion. There however is a hint of reproach in her voice as she adds, eyes hardening for just a fraction.
“Trying to deny the connection will only continue to hurt the both of you. If you are clever enough to understand the importance of it, you would do well to fix your mistakes.”
It is during times like these that she is infinitely grateful for having a friend like Dovey. More often than not, they will be seen partaking in almost ruthlessly aggressive banter, making them come across as nemeses who despise one another to those around them, but Dovey, to Lesso, is a port in the storm: someone, no the only one she can turn to.
Suddenly, following her friend’s much needed advice, even being under the same roof becomes painfully insufferable. Her heart demands that she returns to your side, and thus, after shocking Dovey with a rare moment of expressing gratitude, grabbing the bottle in hand, she walks briskly back towards her chamber.
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By the time you wake up, there significantly is less soreness overall. Cocooned in satiny softness, you feel infinitely better, up until the last couple of hours gain on your foggy mind. It is too beautiful of a memory to be real, and you wonder if you have just made it all up when a delightful whiff of a familiar fragrance teases your nose.
Tracing the scent leads you to the conclusion that not only are you in the dean’s chamber, you are buried under her feather-soft duvet, sinking into her pillowy bed. Upon peeling the satin sheet off your body, you find yourself in Lady Lesso’s pristine white shirt.
Your cheeks are painted sunset pink, jolly little hummingbird causing mayhem inside its bony cage, but then, rears the ugly head of reality, crushing the delicate buds of hope beneath its foul boots.
You are inside her room, enveloped in her scent, and surrounded by her things, and yet, it is such a depressing disappointment that the woman herself is nowhere to be found.
She has been adamant that she doesn’t wanted you then.
What are the chances that she will want you now?
Your tie has meant nothing to her after all. Is there even any reason for you to keep pestering her now that what little connection you have to her is no more, due to her own doing no less.
With thoughts running rampant, your bare feet have just barely touched the fluffy carpet when the click-clack of heels notify you of her impending arrival.
Panicked and emotionally unprepared to force back into the bitter reality, you dive back under the covers, pretending as though sleep has yet to release you from its grip.
There is silence for a few minutes.
And then, “If you’re awake, let’s get some elixir in you. It’ll help you heal better.”
You comply, peeking one eye open first before moving to sit on the bed.
Trying your damndest not to unabashedly stare at her is proven to be a rather challenging affair as your eyes are keep being drawn to her tantalisingly dishevelled state. Her sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, displaying her surprisingly strong arms; you can see her veins, emerald green and amethyst purple, under her skin like milky porcelain.
Then, a bottle is handed to you. Your eyes are busy admiring her beautifully long fingers with their stylishly painted nails, sharp as talons, to give any mind to the peculiar looking colour and consistency of the contents of the bottle.
When it comes to most potions, the first droplet is always the most unpleasant, and then, you somehow get used to the taste, and watery as they usually are, the rest of the liquid goes easily in. However, with this one, the taste is unrivalled, in that it does not go down easily, the thick consistency of the liquid making it terribly unpleasant for you to swallow.
You almost end up giving up halfway, and you certainly would have if it wasn’t for her hand holding your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek, while the other is clasped over yours around the bottle, urging you on.
The roundness of the bottle is soon replaced with the thinness of the glass when a glass of water is put in your hand.
“Good girl.”
The lowly husked praise has come out of the blue that you very nearly choke to death amidst mouthfuls of water.
Silence reigns for some time afterwards before it is dethroned once more by her voice, “If you would give me another chance,” soothingly tender and conveying genuine repentance. “I would like to give this, us a proper chance.”
The sincerity of her words stuns you for a moment.
“Would you?”
You choose your words carefully. She has finally warmed up to the idea of you and her, and you do not wish to scare her away.
Still, you must state what you must.
“I won’t lie and say that you didn’t hurt me, Lady Lesso because you did, possibly even more than you’ve intended.”
At this, to your genuine shock, she wilts, the prim and proper Lady Lesso with her shoulders slumped and brows furrowed.
“I took you for granted. Of course, you would want nothing to do with me anymore. I understand. If I were you, I’d hate me, too.”
“Regrettably, even if I want to hate you, I am unable to. Not that I want to in the first place.”
Your hand finds hers on her lap, gingerly brushing a thumb against her warm skin, and when she stares intently at it, stupefied and breath caught in her slender throat, you smile to yourself.
“As foolish as it sounds, I have wanted nothing but you ever since you’ve entered my vision. I think you would have enamoured me all the same even without this string binding us together.”
“So, yes. Yes, I would.”
Her eyes are a mesmerising green as they seek yours. Now it is her doing what she does best, exercising the art of taking one’s breath away.
“No darling,-” A shadow of a smile makes its breathtaking appearance on her lovely lips. “-not only have I been a fool but I have also been a coward. It is an age-old belief that villains are never granted a happily ever after, and I-” Her hand engulfs yours, mirroring your ministrations from earlier. “-I resorted to subjecting you to my wrath before, as my irrational fear had made a foolish presumption, you would, one day, make a fool out of me. Ironically, I ended up making a fool of myself.”
Emboldened by the revelation, you intertwine your fingers with hers. “I know that our case is unique, possibly even unheard of from what I’ve gathered thus far, but Lady Lesso-” Squeezing her hand reassuringly, you make your unfaltering confession. “-even while being well aware that our path will not always be all sunshine and rainbows, I will unequivocally choose to walk the arduous path as long as I can have you.”
A beat.
Your heart thrums anxiously beneath your ribcage.
Two.
Have you divulged too much?
Three.
And then, she cracks the most fabulous smile, “Be careful darling. Flattery will get you everywhere.”
The warm, pulsating sound of it is the loveliest melody to your ears.
The tip of your ears burning, you move to hide from her mischievous gaze, but as if reading your mind, her fingers slide along your jaw, gingerly running a thumb across your raspberry suffused cheek.
“Verily, you have the purest heart.”
She muses more to herself than talk to you, only after some time, aiming utterances to you.
“Very well then, we have all the time in the world to tackle our situation. Now, rest, for it is your utmost priority. These past few days have been terribly unkind to you after all.”
“Mmhm, but Lady Lesso?”
“Yes?”
“I thought you had severed our ties. Why is it still intact?”
“Because I didn’t.”
“It was only a mirage then?”
“Yes.”
“And, Lady Lesso?”
“Yes?”
“Stay with me?” You ask meekly, then add. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. I couldn’t wish for anything less.”
Your belly butterflies rejoice when after tucking you back into her bed, “Sleep tight, my sweet little songbird.” , you feel the warm press of her lips on yours. It is but a fleeting touch. But, when they descend upon your cheek next, they linger, brushing against your skin in the softest, most delicate caress.
“I’ll be here when you wake up.”
That night, you fall asleep with the goofiest of smiles on your face.
Tied around your pinkies, and cascading into a stream amongst the creamy sheets, the string of fate that binds your souls together burns the brightest red.
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mesukohi · 2 years
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The string never breaks 🧵
Esuka week Entry: Soulmate Au 🔥🐦
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