Everyone That Gets My Comments Knows That I'm The Conspiracy Theorist 90% Of The Time

Everyone that gets my comments knows that I'm the Conspiracy Theorist 90% of the time 😁

There is nothing more precious to me as a writer than the comments left on AO3. Whenever I get that email notification, I wonder what kind of comment was left. To have a little fun, I'm going to sort the typical comments into a few different categories and share my reactions to them as a writer.

If you feel I missed a comment type, please let me know. I'm curious to learn what other classifications you think exist (positive comment types only please - let's not make this negative). Also, if you wanted to tag yourself, I'd love you know what type of commenter you think you are.

The Polite Conversationalist - Your comment confirms that you read and enjoyed the fic or chapter. You offer praise for the author's efforts and encouragement for them to continue. - If this is you, please know that I'm imagining us holding a book club together. I brought us snacks.

The All Caps Reaction - You left the most unhinged comment. - You were screaming as you read it? I was screaming as I wrote it. Let's be friends.

The How Dare You - The angst is real. And painful. And I'm sorry but the story needed it. - This is a compliment of the highest order and I'm so glad you left it.

The Conspiracy Theorist - You are so invested that you are trying to figure out what comes next. - I'm so excited to read your ideas. They let me know the story tracks for you. And I'm either smiling because you guessed right and I'm excited for you to read what comes next, or I'm grinning because I know the plot twist is going to blow your mind.

The Catch-Up - You haven't commented in a while and are letting me know you are catching up. - I'm so glad you are back! I missed you. I know life gets busy and it means a lot to me that you took the time to read my story.

The Giggle - You laughed at my jokes and let me know. - Did we just become best friends? I'm already making you a bracelet.

The Callout - You found my favorite line in the chapter or fic. - I love you so much. You just made my day, my week, my month. Seriously, all the love for the reader. xoxo

🥺

To any fic writers who worry they are wasting their time... I read a fic for a relatively small and inactive fandom about three years ago. And there was one specific scene where a character watched another dancing like an idiot to a beyonce song and it was so sweet and loving that even now years later I have that song on one of my spotify playlist so every once in a while it will play and remind me of that fic, and every time it does I smile and feel a little happier.

The stats on a fic will never really tell you if your writing touched someone. There's no numerical way to show you what impact you made. Maybe you are wasting time, or maybe you are writing something that someone will remember for a long time, something that will never fail to make them smile.

Call You Mine💜 Chapter 1

PAIRING: idol!Yoongi x OC

SUMMARY: Freya despises everything soulmate-related, but one day her soulmate shows out of nowhere and turns everything upside down.

"Why didn’t you reach out to me?" Her eyes watered in response to his words and he was certain. "You knew who I was, how I was suffering." It pained him to say so, but he knew it was true. It had to be a conscious decision. And he had to know why.

A slowburn rejection soulmate story to make you fall in love with Min Yoongi (again).

WORD COUNT: 7.4k (Total: 297k)

GENRE: Rejection, Soulmate AU, s2l

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: angst, huge ass story that is an emotional rollercoaster, rejection (tho it has a happy ending), OC has a strong personality and flaws (all my characters do really), desperation, explicit sexual content, semipublic I guess?, riding, consensual but there's conflict, soulmate bond is inescapable and shit happens

(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted in December 2022)

A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Yoongi's story is the third of the Soul Palette Series (but the one that started it all). Again, it is a realistic rejection soulmate story because I wanted a story where the female character doesn't lose her backbone as soon as [insert soulmate] shows in the picture/has sex. Lots of angst and fighting until the stars align ;)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

"Poetry, music, a painting, they don’t save the world. But they save the minute. And that is enough.” Matilde Campilho

What were the odds?

“Freya, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I am,” she answered nonchalantly, looking out through the car window.

Her mood soured with the conversation and the woman steering the wheel sighed. “Whenever the subject of soulmates gets brought up you just become…” Freya gave her an ice-cold look from the shotgun seat. That made the woman mad, “Insufferable.”

Freya smirked through her pain and looked away again. 

The woman sighed again, “We’ve been friends for almost nine years. Don’t you think I know you by now?”

Freya placed her elbow on the car door, supporting her chin on her hand. Her fingers covered her mouth strategically. She knew the lecture that was about to happen, Lidia never missed a chance to try and change her mind about this topic. She didn’t have the heart or energy to fight it anymore.

“Soulmates are each other's halves,” she started and Freya just clenched her jaw. “You were born with one, two parts of a whole.” Freya couldn’t have heard it or learned it better if she was in primary school. Sarcastic thoughts like that would flood her every time Lidia pulled that sermon on her. “Just because barely half the population finds theirs, does not mean yours isn’t out there.”

“Sure, he might be out there, but I wish to be like the other half of the population. You know, the one that was able to live happily by being with the people they chose to be with,” Freya said with a hint of victory. 

“Fair, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that their soulmates are still out there. They might have never met, but that doesn’t mean one should just ignore it or—”

“I’m not ignoring it,” Freya cut, annoyed. “I told you, I never met that person. Why would I lie!”

“I don’t know, maybe because you hate the idea of soulmates so much!” Lidia yelled back, fortunately without taking her eyes out of the traffic. Motorcycles were insane, trying to get in between the moving cars to get ahead. Freya was happy it was Lidia driving them to the venue. Lidia took a deep breath, “If something happened to him, you know you can tell me…”

Freya sighed, feeling stuck in the same loop, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met him.”

She hoped that would be the end of it, for now at least. Lidia seemed fixated on the idea that she was lying about her soulmate, that something tragic had happened, or that she was avoiding the person. Which didn’t make any sense according to her own rules, for fuck’s sake! Wouldn’t she be sick and whatnot if that was the case?

“Fine,” Lidia relented, as she always did when confronted with Freya's bitterness. “I would just like you to be open-minded when you do.”

Freya bit her tongue to hold back her remark and let the car fall into silence. She hated that topic and now it was stuck in her mind. She had never met that person and she never wanted to. She had no open-mindedness to offer because she would never be okay with it. And she wished she could just yell it out until it got through Lidia’s thick sand castles and baby cupids and stupid pink heartshaped butterflies: meeting your soulmate was terrible.

Sure they were supposed to be your other half, but they could literally be on the other side of the world. With different cultures and upbringings, you could be paired with a terrorist, misogynist, psychopath, the list went on. Who was it to say that person would actually fit your personality and values? Absolutely nothing, as history showed. Quite frankly, the fifty percent of the populace that never met them were the lucky ones. Never meeting them meant never experiencing withdrawals of absence. Never bending or nullifying your beliefs and values for the sake of someone else that, though unique, was probably not even the best match for you.

Because let’s face it: though science had proven its existence, who was to say the bond meant the same to everyone, or that it should be the same? For scientists, it was perceived more as an absolute physical attraction that would lead to the best procreation. That had nothing to do with love, with fated partners, or whatever else was mediatized. It all looked more like a romanticized publicity trope used to sell way more chocolates, flowers, and cards than Valentine’s Day. Or to make people feel misfitted and incomplete until they did find that person, instigating them to consume goods, programs, matchmaking events, anything that could speed that along. Why should anyone live with the unrelenting weight of not having met someone they never needed? That could ruin them, their lives? It was all terrible!

She would have known if she had met that person. Though she in general avoided physical contact, the mere presence of the other person was supposed to be enough for the both of them to know. She of course had no idea what it would feel like, soulbonds were also reported with different intensities for different people, but she was sure she’d know if that fateful moment ever occurred. Moreover, she would feel the withdrawal. Though tolerable to some, especially with medication, it would be impossible not to feel anything. She knew that’s how it would always play out: even if she avoided them and ran through the nearest exit as soon as she felt the bond, the need would hunt her, both of them, for as long as they lived. That was something she was willing to endure, though she honestly hoped she never had to. If she never met him, she’d never have to. So, she wished she never would. Simple.

Freya glanced at Lidia, who was now pulling over the security of the event and showing them her badge. Lidia couldn’t possibly understand her standpoint, and as much as they would fight about it, Freya wasn’t interested in shattering her dreams. If Lidia could one day live happily ever after with her fated mate and actually be happy, Freya would gladly support her. She just couldn’t be deluded by the idea like Lidia.

Their nine years of friendship were very precious to Freya. Though the focus on her career had led her astray from many of her friendships, Lidia always stuck by her. She was one of her dearest friends. She would always call and catch up on her, whether Freya was at a fashion runway, strike, or in a warzone. Maybe that was why Lidia was the only person she ever gave two cents to in regard to soulbonding. Everyone else was free to be their own idiot, but Lidia was her idiot. Freya didn’t want to see her get hurt. Lidia felt the exact same way, she knew that. It was the only reason they fought about it in the first place.

Lidia parked the car in the underground parking lot and Freya was forced to move. They were still by the entrance of the arena, the lights from the streets made their way to where they were. Lidia opened the trunk and Freya got her material ready. There was noise in the air and she kept trying to figure out what it was.

Lidia closed the trunk when Freya gave the nod and Freya’s blue eyes widened in shock. Beyond the entrance, behind the security barrier, there was a sea of people. People chanting, jumping, and screaming. 

Lidia was smirking at the sight, “Not your typical warzone, is it?”

Freya pulled her camera that was hanging on her chest to her face, regulating the lens to focus on them. They were mostly girls shouting, around their twenties, some if that. They had colorful banners with letters stamped on them and sticks with a ball that seemed to shine.

Click.

She looked briefly at the photo on the view screen, then up again at them. She was surprised.

“No, but similar. What could it be that makes them act like that?”

Lidia was passing her her media badge to access the event.

“Boys.”

He woke up from his nap, dazed. He kept having the same dream. He had had it for a while and in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it properly. Now, he could. No faces or characteristics, but he knew it was always the same person he dreamt of. When he told it to the others, they thought it had to be his soulmate and he had found the idea hilarious at first, that was impossible. But then, with the years, he started wondering. Was it that far-fetched that there was a connection between them if they were two pieces of the same soul? Maybe their pieces had an incredible bond and that was why he could dream of her.

Her. He couldn’t remember much, but he did remember that, which brought more weight to the possibility of her being his soulmate since soulmates were always of the opposite sex. For him, love or a partner was always about the connection, the person, not about their appearance or gender. He never felt like he had a gender preference because he would always look at personality first, but his soulmate would be female and he was okay with it. Though honestly, despite dreaming of her occasionally, he couldn’t conceive a relationship — he hadn’t had a serious one in almost ten years.

Life made it that way, and he accepted it. His career had taken off in a way he had dreamed and actually achieved. He was surrounded by amazing people, professionals, friends, and family alike. He had his fans, who supported him and allowed him to live every single one of his dreams, from making music, to not worrying about money, to being able to support his family comfortably. Did he ever wonder if loneliness was a price to pay for it all? Yes. Did he think it was? No. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, or his soulmate. They would show in due time. He was living, bit by bit, in tranquility.

He of course thought about what would happen if he met her. Seokjin and Hoseok had found theirs and they were exceedingly happy. They gave all others the hope of a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment, though none were particularly searching for it. ARMYs didn't know about their discovery, they had decided it that way. Not even necessarily because of the fans, but because of the sasaengs and paparazzi. The lack of privacy would be overwhelming and the men didn't wish to ruin their soulmates' lives.

If anyone had to choose who appeared the least interested in the whole soulmate trope it would probably be him. Yoongi was known for many things, he was aware, and the top included being snarky, lazy, and perfectionist. Some probably saw him as the most cold, obsessed with his music, a workaholic. It was somewhat true, he shrugged. Ideas were constantly in his mind and he was the happiest if he was putting them to life. That meant spending a lot of time by himself in the comfort and safety of his studio, space, and mind. It also meant he slept a lot. None of those characteristics meant he actually was cold or uninterested in finding his soulmate. Quite on the contrary, sometimes it felt it was the exact piece that was missing. He lived with it, but he wouldn't deny it or reject it if it happened. He would welcome her wholeheartedly, he had been waiting for some time now.

There was pressure to perform in front of thousands of people that night, as it was BTS’s last tour date in Europe, in Berlin. He was very tired, exhausted really, as were the others, but they were persevering. They had to, the quiet that would come after would be both a soothing balm and a curse. They had to make the best of it while they could, no matter what.

He was reflecting on that, at the backstage lounge after having slept a nap. The others were getting ready for the concert in other ways, though they were all quiet as the stress was building up. He walked out to reach the stylist's room and get his makeup done, knowing he would be the last one to do so when he felt it. He stumbled against the door awkwardly, completely taken by surprise. He looked around in shock, meeting the makeup artists’, hairdressers’, and stylists' surprised looks. 

She was there. She was there somewhere.

He was there somewhere. Freya was certain of it. She knew she would know when it happened and she knew. She was terrified, petrified in place, but she knew.

“Freya, what’s wrong?”

Lidia sounded worried and Freya blinked blankly for a second. She had fallen against the wall and was now leaning against it. People were passing in between them in that corridor in both directions, oblivious to them, most speaking a language she didn’t understand.

Freya immediately forced a smile, dismissing her question. “I’m fine, I just tripped.”

Lidia accepted it because, in the turmoil of people running around backstage, that wasn’t surprising. Little did she know what happened. Freya was nearly sweating from nervousness, her body too hot to handle the May warmth. 

How could that be, she thought, while following Lidia. She had lived in Berlin her whole life, why would it have to happen at a boy band concert? It made no sense, at all. On one hand, she had been super lucky to never stumble on him her whole life. On the other, really, a boy band concert? What if it was one of the fanboys outside?

That was her worst nightmare coming to reality. She wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, but for fuck’s sake she almost had it. She almost lived a life in ignorance, free of fated bullcrap and withdrawal symptoms. Now she was facing her options: to run away immediately, to finish the job and hopefully never stumble on him, or to search for him. The latter wasn’t an option, and to leave without finishing the job was unprofessional. Lidia had asked her to be there to photograph that piece, the last concert date of the boy band in Europe, and she felt obligated to carry it through. They had an exclusive interview for their culture magazine and those photographs would make the fans go insane. Her professional code was above all else, she had fought tooth and nail to achieve everything she had. She vowed to never let her soulmate change her and it would certainly not start now.

Avoiding the person would probably be impossible, she considered, still following Lidia. The stadium was packed with fans and crew, there was no avoiding whoever it was. Since people kept passing through her constantly, she thought their bond must be pretty strong. Otherwise, how could it be that the sensation wasn’t fading as the person walked past her? They probably weren’t even walking past her. They were just somewhere in the vicinity.

There was no photoshoot scheduled, just the interview. When they walked into the artists' backstage lounge it was relatively quiet. There were seven, distinctively sitting in the corner of the room that had been lit and specially prepared for the occasion. Freya was surprised the artist’s crew had prepared that small arrangement for the interview, as it would usually be up to the magazine to arrange it.

She stayed by the door and grabbed her camera, pulling it to her face.

Lidia walked ahead with a gorgeous smile, “Hello everyone! Are we late? I hope you didn't wait long.”

The question was rhetorical, they were well ahead of time. Freya was immediately immersed in seeing life through her lens. She would do what she did best, soulmate pull bothering her or not.

She did not pay attention to the conversation between Lidia and the publicists, managers, and whoever else. She was certain Lidia pointed at her because she saw it through her camera.

"Just ignore her," Lidia said with a smile, glancing back at the camera. Lidia knew she liked to work in peace.

She wasn't a photographer who would take a thousand pictures to be able to choose one. She would take ten to choose five. That meant being very conscious of every angle, light, positioning, and framing. Everything had to be perfect. She had won awards for pictures she barely had to edit precisely because of her attention to detail. In warzones, she was severely limited in time and supplies, she had to make due. It wasn't the same circumstance, but her work ethic applied.

She liked seeing the crew work around them tirelessly and she wasn't shy about snapping photos of them. She was certain then that the concert was only about 20% the actual musicians. Not to diminish their work, but the show itself was not of their making. They were just starring in it.

The interview was well underway when she turned to the artists themselves. That wasn't problematic, their smile wouldn't change between the first and last question. She actually believed they'd relax more as the questions progressed, making their photos portray their true nature better.

Those thirty minutes flew truly by. She quickly scanned the photos she took through the view screen to make sure she had all seven in perfect soul-capturing moments, but she frowned. There was one that was different. He was speaking in the photo she took, he had an honest expression, and a beautiful complexion, but she didn't feel like the photo was as good as the others. He wasn't captured as well.

She raised her eyes to look at him and her heart jumped a beat. He was looking down, hands over his crossed legs. His hair was beautifully styled over his forehead, he looked almost like a doll. He sure was frozen, but she knew he was listening. His bandmate was answering a question in English and Lidia laughed, not too loud but not fakely either. That man smiled, not out of politeness, but out of understanding. Out of deeper thoughts. Something more meaningful. 

Click.

She hadn't even thought of it, she had to capture it. Her stomach was twisting, she wasn't feeling too well. Damned soulbond shenanigans. She usually did very well in crowds, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She slipped through the entrance door and left. She was fighting hard for what was happening so as not to ruin her day.

He was barely containing himself. He had an urge, an energy pulse that wanted to pull at him and take him somewhere. He was sitting as still as he could, respectfully listening to the interview and answering when appropriate. He felt his smile might give it away, so he kept looking down. Some of the others noticed and touched him soothingly in worry, patting his back or shoulder softly. He stayed quiet, he couldn’t tell them yet.

When the journalist left and the room emptied a bit in the last ten minutes before the final preparations, he was finally free.

"What's wrong, Yoongi?" Hoseok was worried.

"Yeah, why didn't you answer the next album question?" Namjoon’s tone wasn't of irritation, just curiosity. "It's your question."

"You were really stiff too," Jimim commented with a concerned pout. They were next to each other and Jimin had at one point patted his lower back.

"Guys, let him talk," Seokjin interfered, waving his hand in front of his face. Was he getting hot? Cause Yoongi was burning up, and sweating without the show even starting.

"Look at him, he's flustered," Taehyung commented, looking at him from real close. Yoongi scoffed and brushed him away.

"Here's water, hyung," Jungkook offered him a water bottle which he gladly took.

"Guys," his voice sounded weird even to him. Since when was it this emotional? "I feel it."

"What?"

"Are you sick?"

"Don't push yourself too hard."

"Guys!" He grabbed Taehyung by the shoulders, who was still close and personal. He would have been annoyed if the occasion was different, he really didn’t care now. "I feel it. Her. She's here somewhere tonight. I feel it right now."

Chaos ensued, with some congratulations and some worries echoing throughout the room. They barely had a minute to discuss it with their manager Sejin, the first to be informed. 

They were rushed to the level underneath the stage and the manager just smacked Yoongi’s shoulder, "Focus on the show. We'll find her after."

He was nervous now, and not about the show. His mind was processing the facts now. The person wasn't in the crew, he would have felt it before. It had to be someone who entered the venue when he felt it. That could be anyone, from fans to workers, and little could be done to slim the number down from tens of thousands to one. That thought made him despair. How would he ever find her in so many people?

"Hey," Namjoon had his hand over his shoulder. His eyes had a glint of concern, but his expression exuded confidence. "She feels you too." Yoongi nodded, taking a deep breath. "She'll probably come forward after the concert."

"She's probably an ARMY," Hoseok winked. Yoongi just shrugged, he didn't care if she was. That was the least of his concerns right now.

"Just think this is for her, for all of them," Jimin added with a light smile.

Yoongi nodded and rushed to the stage, the same as them. He gave it his all. He was exhausted, but he wasn't giving up. He knew he shocked his brothers because he had probably never shown such a performance before. He couldn't explain it. He had newfound energy, and hope. Things would be different from now on, for the best. The thought that she was listening, and seeing him perform gave him an extra incentive. He teased the public way more than usual. He rarely displayed his English skills as openly, but the circumstances told him she couldn't be Korean. Whoever she was in that crowd, he wanted to make sure she knew they could communicate. Could she even tell it was him? She was probably as lost as he was.

The pull was hard. Freya was facing the whole crowd from that spot, near the stage. She could easily take pictures of the stage, as well as the fans. She was trying to focus on her job, but something kept interrupting her. Sometimes she would feel goosebumps all over her body, though she did not know why. Maybe if that guy stopped talking on the microphone all the time, she could actually hear herself think.

She rubbed her eyes with a sigh; the show was almost ending, it would be over soon. She was particularly snappy because of the bond-induced tension, she knew that. She would be able to leave as soon as it ended, just a little while longer.

Or so she thought. The venue started emptying and Lidia insisted for them to stay. She didn't complain at first, taking pictures of the heartbroken fans when the show ended. Most of them were emotional, tears staining their faces, but they were smiling. For them, it must have been a life experience to see BTS on stage. If only Freya could have appreciated it as much. She also wanted to cry. She wanted to run away so badly.

The venue was nearly empty when a publicist showed up to call for Lidia. Apparently, there were some matters left to discuss. Lidia nudged Freya, saying how nice it was of them to let them experience the concert for free before getting back to business. Freya knew it was nice, but she just shrugged. She wanted to leave.

But she couldn't, Lidia was her ride. She could always run away either way, but it wasn't professional.

"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked, willing.

"No, it's just a meeting. Footage of the fans leaving, the empty poststage and backstage, or even the tired artists are more important. Make it count," Lidia winked before leaving. She probably didn't notice Freya’s expression, as excited as if she was sucking on a sour lemon.

She needed to calm down, she thought. She had to be professional above all else. She could not, and would not, have that stupid occurrence ruin her photojournalist reputation. Over her dead body.

She exited the designated area, aimlessly taking shots whenever she felt it was worth it. She had her bag with other lenses that she would switch occasionally. She got lost.

Yoongi was despairing. He couldn't help it. He wasn't even listening to the argument anymore. He was focused on the feeling, on the internal drum. He was panicked that it was going to disappear in a heartbeat.

"There's nothing we can do! We can't prevent the fans from leaving the venue, we can't force them to leave one by one. Not to mention that just touching the subject would immediately destroy any option of privacy for Yoongi or his soulmate." Sejin was being reasonable, everyone knew that. But one glance at Yoongi's face said it all. It was not enough. 

Namjoon kept arguing, but Yoongi turned around to face the mirror, closing his eyes. He felt someone behind him.

"Do you still feel it?" Jungkook’s kind voice asked. 

He nodded with his heart tight in his chest. He did feel it, he felt it better now, if that made sense. It was called a pull for a reason. He felt pulled, compelled to move, to go somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know if it worked and it was probably not safe for him to leave that room. But he felt it as though he was a compass with an arrow juggling around. No one was going to find her but him. And he absolutely couldn't lose her.

He opened his eyes and confidently walked out, not paying attention to anyone. He didn't notice his brothers calling or manager Sejin telling them to let him go. The venue was nearly empty, maybe one-fourth of the fans were still around. He still felt her, so maybe they had a chance.

He walked to the higher levels completely on a gut feeling. He hadn't even changed outfits or showered yet, he was straight out of the stage with a gray hoodie and black tight pants. He had a black headband over his hairline that kept his short dark brown hair from falling down his eyes and the sweat from dripping. None of it mattered though, he didn’t have time to look presentable, he needed to find her.

When he reached the higher level, he wasn't even afraid to meet fans, the thought didn’t occur to him. He just stumbled, numb. He could barely feel it anymore, it was like a pulled elastic at the end. It was still there, and so was she. Yet, for a second his chest filled with anguish and it physically hurt. He had no sense of direction anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. He was failing and it was useless, he had no idea of what to do.

People were starting to mumble around him and he was brought back to reality. He needed an escape, to hide the repressed feelings that were starting to make his chest hurt. There was a door in front of him. He entered the room, slamming the door behind him.

Freya was walking aimlessly, completely lost. There weren't that many people around and she wasn't really interested in taking pictures anymore. The moment had passed. She hoped to catch the band leaving, knowing that was the kind of shot her magazine could appreciate for the online version of the article.

The more she kept going, the more sure she became that she was going the wrong way. She was effectively ignoring her surroundings and just going. The crew was going in the opposite direction, the fangirls and security too. She tried convincing herself that was totally normal. It was totally her own will taking her somewhere in order to snap more pictures. It was not that gut-wrenching pull telling her she had to be somewhere.

She was walking down a corridor when she suddenly froze. Her body was burning up, her heart racing out of control, but her gut clearly knew that was it. No need to go further. She was deaf at that point, the bond so strong it was a deafening physical energy current around her pushing her in only one direction: the door in front of her.

Everything else was muffled and unimportant. Yet from the outside of the door, she could already feel she shouldn’t open it. The force was so strong it was numbing. Her hand hovered over the door knob and she wondered how it wasn't vibrating with the resonance of such a powerful pull. She wanted to fight it with all of her strength, and her hand trembled. It would change her life forever if she opened that door. She didn't want that to happen.

But she wasn't strong enough, it was just so much stronger than her. She succumbed to it, fatefully so. She grabbed the doorknob and tried to rationalize it. It couldn’t hurt to see him at least once, or at least to tell him she wasn't and wasn't ever going to be interested. Yeah, that's it. That was why she had to get in there. It wasn't that person's fault and she should at least tell him that.

She entered the room quickly, a small meeting room, and closed the door without turning. Inside, the pull became like a magnetic field, all around them like walls, instead of a single string. She turned slowly around and saw a man standing behind the center table, having risen from his chair, staring at her in shock. He was different than she expected, though she expected nothing. He looked tired, that was her first thought. Why was he so tired? His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and falling over his headband. His eyes were smaller than she would expect, and darker. His skin was so pale she wondered if it was porcelain; was that makeup? He was her height it would seem, though bulkier than her. That hoodie did not give much away, but he looked comfortable. She was somewhat happy he was comfortable, despite his tiredness.

Her eyes were glued to him like nothing else existed because nothing else did. She was walking slowly in his direction, completely unaware. She had heard of the trance but she never thought it would be that strong. Her body moved on its own, her mind clouded as if she was high on drugs. She was such a strong-willed person, and yet it seemed all her convictions evaporated. Her legs were jello and would only move in his direction. She argued that it was only physical, her mind was still alert. Yet they were a step away from each other when she recognized her own lie. Her mind was as interested as her body, especially because she recognized him. But from where?

They shouldn't have touched, she thought. As soon as their hands did there was no denying it. There was no reasoning that could explain what was happening, except soulmating. Her chest filled with cheer bliss while her whole body warmed up like crazy as if she was a firework ready to pop in a million colors. And it was strange to recognize the same sort of emotion in such foreign eyes, in a stranger's face. She felt endeared by that face, propelled to care for that person with the clear consciousness that she did not know him. And her heart, or should she say soul, was at peace with it. 

She struggled with that thought. First, because she thought they would instantly love each other blindly or something, and she didn’t want that to happen. Second, because it confirmed her own theories that soulbonding would erase her sense of self, her autonomy, and her individuality. She would be damned if she’d ever let any of that happen.

She knew nothing would ever feel the same or compare to him. However, knowing it in theory or feeling it in practice were very different things. Every particle of her body and soul agreed that was it, her other half, and no other person, relationship or bond would ever replace it. She looked at her hands in his and she had to close her eyes for a second to control her emotions. The urge to hug him was making her toes curl.

“What’s your name?”

Her eyes jumped to him and widened. She knew him, she heard his voice a lot tonight. She pictured him without the headband in a pretty black suit and she gasped. He was one of the guys from the band! She was completely shaken to her core; how was that possible?! Weren’t they from the other side of the world? 

Then she shook her head, but of course he was. He didn’t live in Berlin, or else they’d have met before. He only happened to come to Berlin, and she only happened to be invited to work that piece last minute. Lidia would call it fate.

“What’s your name?”

His voice gave her goosebumps. He was saying it in English, not German, but she was totally fine with it. Despite the slight demand from his voice, he was using a loving tone. A soft caress to her ears meant to not trouble her. But she was troubled, deeply. She fought to keep her mouth shut, clenching her teeth and looking away. She saw his chest heave to take in a breath before insisting on knowing her name and she panicked. She couldn’t deny him if he kept asking, her soul wouldn’t allow it. So she kissed him.

She censored herself for a millisecond before their lips touched. Kissing him went against everything she stood for. First and foremost, because she was invading his privacy, his personal space. She was attacking him, sexually assaulting him for fuck’s sake. Soulmate or not, that couldn’t be taken lightly. Second, because it was disrespectful as a whole to kiss someone without knowing if they consented. What if he had a girlfriend or was married? Third, because she wanted to keep her distance from her soulmate. They were never supposed to have met, let alone touch or kiss. She wanted to leave, run away, and never look back. No matter the pain it would cause them both. That was too selfish of her and the more they dove in, the more she would hurt him, wound him. His soul, the other part of her. He was an unlucky bastard to be fated to be her other half.

Despite the flawless logic in all of those thoughts, she couldn’t stop her lips and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised for a second, before supporting her waist with his hands carefully while she grabbed his head in place. For someone who wanted to run away as soon as possible, she sure was keeping him firmly in her grip.

She forced him to walk back until he was against the wall. She did so because now he had nowhere to go, she could press her body against him. She felt absolute ecstasy running through her blood. She could not stop kissing him. She could not be stopped. She vaguely thought the only way would be for him to ask it, and she doubted he ever would.

His hands stayed respectfully at her waist, frustratingly so. It was infuriating in a way how he seemed to be more in control than she was when she was the one who didn’t want this to happen. She should be outraged that they were kissing without her consent. She didn’t have the mind space to think about that though, she would reflect on being a hypocrite later.

For now, his lips tasted like heaven. She was going into all the corny tropes because they fit exactly how she felt. She was riding the wave of a rush and it was divine. She had never been high on LSD or cocaine, but she imagined it came close to that. Her tongue had no problems invading his mouth, provoking hot waves of pleasure to reverberate through her whole body. The way he just accepted it, as if giving her the full reins of it, stupidly turned her on, egged her on. He was the only one who could stop her, why didn’t he?

She fought hard to stop their makeout session and pulled away, panting uncontrollably. She was eating him alive. So much for saying ‘goodbye, let’s never see each other again’.

“You… What's your name?”

Their faces were still glued together, his arms around her. She pushed herself away and turned to the side, covering her mouth with her right hand. Somehow, pulling away from him exhausted her. She felt like even gravity was against her. She stayed like that, panting at a short but safe distance, looking at him.

After a moment of silence, he walked to a chair and sat down. The corners of his lips were raised in a small smile, he looked calm. He had all the time in the world, it seemed. Well, she didn't, she had other things to do. Like running away and never look back. Stupid soulbond was too heavy, her legs were stomped.

He pointed at the chair across from him, on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

She wanted to scream. He was being so gentle, so condescending. Was she an idiot that couldn't keep herself away? Y- No. She wasn't a fangirl. She was a hard-working adult. An award-winning photojournalist. She was in control. Mostly. She couldn't even look away from him, that empty chair had nothing on him.

She tried calming herself down. She took her camera strip out of her neck, letting the camera sit on the table, and then she also dropped her lens bag on the floor next to it. Her breathing was stabilizing and she swallowed dryly. He was patiently waiting for her. He looked like a mythological God observing her, a mere mortal, to cope with his presence. And she had all the intentions of kneeling and begging for whatever mercy he could give.

She scoffed and pulled her copper hair back, out of her face. It was good. That soulmate thing… It was strong. She never thought it would get to that point. She knew when to admit defeat. And that was certainly, still, not the time to. 

She took a step forward, convinced that she was in control. She was going to put her hand on his shoulder and say, ‘I’m sorry it had to be me. I’m not interested. Let’s forget this ever happened.'

Her hand actually hovered over his shoulder for a moment, when her blue eyes deviated to the exposed skin of his neck. Her hand trembled while she struggled between her wills, visceral thoughts opposing one another. He must have seen her inner battle because he extended his hand and guided hers to his shoulder calmingly. It tipped the scales.

Her hormones, body, whatever it was took control. What she wanted beyond him didn’t matter, no one beyond him mattered. She felt like everything in life was secondary, a faded background, dim against his brightness. There was only one thing she wanted.

Her leg heaved to the other side of him and she sat on top of his legs. He seemed to be expecting her lips when she leaned forward to greet him. His hands went to rest carefully by her waist while hers kept by his neck. He was taking her kisses fully, meeting her passion without ever imposing. But she was hungry. She started grinding herself against him and as soon as she could feel his hard-on clearly through his pants and her shorts, she just couldn’t stop anymore.

Her mind became foggy and nothing else but their pleasure meant anything. There was something at the end of the rainbow and she wanted it. Not want, want. Like the need to breathe. He grunted and parted their lips, trying to look around, at them, at her. 

She got up with a weird sense of ease. She unbuttoned her shorts without ever dropping her eyes from him. His, however, accompanied the fabric’s descent down her naked legs. She pulled her panties down in the same motion and he seemed to understand. His expression was now serious, as she imagined hers. She wanted it, like oxygen. Like daylight. He could stop it though. One word and her world would crumble.

He extended his right hand for her to take. She took it and got closer. He meant to get up, but she stopped him. She unbuttoned his pants herself while her heart drummed in her chest. It wasn’t even about what he was going to look like or anything of the sort. She just had to feel him.

She got on his lap and immediately pulled his erection out. It was hard and shiny, extending proudly upwards. Their eyes met and no words were spoken. His hands were on her hips and she just did what she was supposed to. She sat down.

It had never felt that way before. She was never the most sexual person, but it was not supposed to feel like that. If she had a will, it vanished then. Her completeness could not be described. It was like an explosion of color, like a gust of wind, like the stars on the black pane of the universe. She was a boat looking to anchor, he was the nest she came to sleep in. 

Once the cosmic waves were done resonating in her nerves, she opened her eyes, aware. It was like seeing everything blurry and then putting on glasses. She understood. She could barely think, but she knew she understood. And looking at his eyes, she knew he did too. His arms raised around her in a tight embrace to keep her close while her hips started rolling. She felt embraced, and accepted, like a promise was being made. Their bodies were giving something to each other because that was the only way their souls could be one again. That pleasure making her skin stretch was the extent their souls would ever touch each other. That was sad in a way, making her feel anguish. Yet he kissed her chest, right over her heart, making her come to an almost full stop. He was promising. She started moving again. That promise would only be real if they committed. If their souls actually touched and joined.

She had never felt pleasure like that. She thought she would reach her orgasm very soon, but somehow there was more. Like an endless staircase to heaven. He grew impatient with kissing her shirt and forced it out. She gladly helped. His lips on her skin were everything, and she moaned through clenched teeth at the shock. His tongue darted out to feel her breasts, contouring her bra edges and sneaking in as much as he could. She was still going, jumping as low as possible so he could do it. She grew impatient and her hands reached her back to release the bra when he stopped her.

He grabbed her hands, “No, don’t stop.”

It was a catalyst, if there could be one. His hands groped her firmly everywhere while she got lost in the feeling of riding him. She was now moaning with every motion, so ready to reach him whenever he was.

He grunted from the back of his throat, “Fuck.”

She nodded approvingly and felt the instant he was ready. She forced his hands on her breasts to squeeze hard while she sat down strongly a few times, making him go so deep it nearly hurt. 

Only it was pure bliss. She closed her eyes and all she could see was golden. Golden waves with particles of light. Her body trembled in spasms, her voice muted without breath. Her body felt like it was hovering in a breeze, floating. She could feel his hands, his body, inside and out. She felt warm and safe. Home. 

It lasted maybe fifteen seconds. Then, the golden waves receded, the lights disappeared like stars in the morning sky, her body floated softly to the ground, and it was done. Her head fell over his shoulder and his hand came to rest on her hair. They were both panting. They promised, it was done. She was hugging him as tightly as she could. She was scared to open her eyes.

You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜

You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜

Carnation 💜 Chapter 1

PAIRING: idol!Jin x OC

SUMMARY: In early 2018, BTS were at a crossroads: after working so hard to set foot in the music industry of South Korea, their sudden jump into stardom became something they never anticipated. Jin believed in his dongsaengs but was just as lost as them when his soulmate entered the picture.

WORD COUNT: 3.3k (Total: 25.3k)

GENRE: Soulmate AU, s2l

RATING: Teen (for drinking, cussing and tension)

WARNINGS: mild angst for talks of disbanding and burnout

(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted June 2023)

A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Jin's story is the first of the Soul Palette Series though it serves as a prequel to Call You Mine. I'm thinking of uploading each story's 1st chapter to give you all a taste 😋

“ARMY! I remember early this year. We were mentally struggling at the beginning of the year. While talking amongst ourselves, we even considered disbanding. I’m relieved that we got ourselves together and were able to bring good outcomes. I want to thank our members who helped me get myself together and the ARMYs who love us. Thank you so much. ” Jin, MAMA, 2018

January 3rd 2018

“It’s hard… It’s really hard.”

Jimin’s words were lost in the silence of the room as the seven Bangtan members looked either at the floor or at nowhere in particular while they went over everything that had been said.

Jungkook never knew anything else but that life with his brothers and had stated very clearly that he wanted to fight until he couldn’t breathe or move anymore. His passion was only matched by his perseverance because they all knew how hard he had it, how tough it was, and the sacrifices he had to make growing up totally lined up for that life only. It didn’t make the others feel particularly better, but they understood his feelings.

Taehyung was teary-eyed and looking at a random place on the wall. He was quiet, he had the tendency to turn inwards when he was facing something extremely difficult. He admitted he was unhappy with the constant pressure that sometimes felt like a gag, with the continual invasion of privacy, with the lack of control over what the future looked like.

Jimin understood his feelings and agreed. He pointed out the only silver lining — the ARMYs who supported them unconditionally and had done so from the start.

“It feels somehow… like a failure, to disappoint them like this,” Yoongi had quietly answered then. “Because we fought so desperately to be worthy of their love, and now that it’s getting so big… it risks being too much.”

“I feel so ungrateful, seriously,” Hoseok had said in contempt of himself, hiding his face.

“They would understand,” Namjoon said. 

Their leader was sitting on a table, stiff body clearly physically fighting that difficult topic with all its might. He would usually give them the stability they needed but at the expense of his own insecurities and doubts.

Yoongi had expressed he wanted to make music, purely and simply. “After all this time… I can’t see myself without BTS. We’re family, you are family to me.”

“Ah seriously,” Hoseok complained, cleaning his tears as were all others, to one degree or another.

“Hyung,” Taehyung complained.

“You choose to tell us your heart right now?” Jimin added, cleaning his eyes.

“Of course right now, keep going Yoongi,” Jin enthused, and Yoongi nodded with a small smile.

“My heart… would be incomplete without you guys. It would get lonely, in the studio too. My music… would get quiet without you guys. But I won't pressure you, because you’re so precious to me. I just want you to be happy.”

“Hyung—” Jungkook’s voice vanished in tears.

“We’re happy by your side,” Taehyung cried, hiding his face.

“We’re family, that will never change,” Namjoon declared, sniffling right after.

“But can we keep giving a perfect performance?” Hobi’s jaw was a firm line as he suppressed his emotions to be able to ask them clearly. “Can we keep this up? Because I’m not sure what I fear most: disappointing ARMYs, or disappointing ourselves.”

“It’s hard… It’s really hard.”

And now, there they were, staring at each other quietly. Until Jin decided to smile and say something, seeing that even Namjoon was stumped in his own thoughts.

“We should all sleep on it and not decide anything immediately. We started this together, we can decide this together. Tomorrow we can talk better about this.”

“But… we’re not disbanding, right?” Jungkook asked, voice shaking as he eyed his hyungs anxiously.

“No.”

“No, we’re not,” Hobi smiled.

“We’re talking and we should think about this. Jin-hyung is right,” Namjoon said, getting up. “We can think of ways that could make this work and of how to better ourselves. If we decide to disband, it won't be for lack of trying to figure this out.”

Every member got up except for Jin, who stayed behind sitting on a chair while everyone passed by him, and Namjoon, who heaved a deep breath and hid his face, the pressure finally cracking through. Jin could read his tension and stress like one reads the time on a clock, and as usual, he felt for Namjoon. He was the leader and felt like he was failing them at a deeply personal level, and it was so hard for him. He could act tough and provide everyone with the smarts needed, but deep down he was hurting and doubtful.

Jin got up and placed his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, who then raised his head. 

“This is not your fault. If anything, you guided us well thus far. You’re also a member of BTS, so go and think about yourself as an individual, as an artist. We’ll talk about this again tomorrow.”

Namjoon rubbed his watering eyes and sucked it all in before nodding. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Of course,” Jin smiled reassuringly. “I’m going for a walk, don't wait up for me.”

“Now?” Namjoon frowned in confusion and Jin scoffed.

“It’s like ten pm, it’s not that late. I’ll be right back.”

He waved Namjoon goodbye quickly after getting ready and rushed out. He needed to breathe as well and the cold new year air would do him some good.

It was hard, it was really hard. However, he felt sort of stuck in a position where he couldn’t say much. Yes, it was hard, but it had always been hard for him. 

He was the oldest, not the leader but definitely the one that looked after them from the day he joined. From making sure Namjoon and Yoongi sorted their differences, to scolding Jungkook for staying in his room by himself, to reminding Tae and Jimin to do their homework, to ordering Hoseok to rest or else, to cooking for all of them— He had become the hyung they needed and he was very thankful he did. He would have never become who he was today otherwise.

But giving and taking care of them was a responsibility, not a chore. What really made it difficult was, well, all the ways he was lacking. He was scouted for his looks, what the heck was that worth?

He chuckled as he made his way down the street to his favorite park. His freaking looks when the others were rappers, lyricists, producers, dancers, and singers. Sure he thought he could act, but that didn't measure up to the others.

So he was always behind and that was really hard. He was the hyung, he had to set an example, but he was lacking in every single aspect of what would make a valuable member. But he tried. That was it, that's all he did. He heard the hate, the harsh comments, the criticism, and he agreed. He was behind, he was slower, he wasn't sharp, he had less vocal range, he—

He sighed, it was hard. But for them, he tried. He wasn't perfect, he was still lacking, but he had worked hard to improve in every way. He had to do it to be able to even show his face to his precious dongsaengs.

So now what?

He didn't want to yell at them for giving up when he had tried so hard, but a minuscule part of him wanted to. Not because his own work would go to waste, he was a better man now than he could have ever hoped to become, but because if they didn't deserve the hype, the praise, and love, then who the hell did?

No one deserved it more than them, absolutely no one! That was what truly made him mad — for all the bullshit they had to take, they deserved every fan, praise, award, and gentleness. They were incredibly talented and kind human beings, he believed they had so much more to do still. So why not stay together?

Was that selfish of him? Sure, every single one of them individually could achieve greatness, be it as musicians, artists, actors, what have you. But he… he loved being with them, being in the group. That life, that family, he didn't want to let it go. He didn't want it to end.

The end was… suffocating. He knew it would come one day, whether now or later, and in many ways it was healthy to debate the end and choose to continue. Only then could everyone be on the same page and happy with the future. But damn was it suffocating. It was worse than letting go of a first love, it was like cutting off a limb. He couldn’t live without them.

They had all done so much. He had managed to graduate from university while shooting and promoting and it had been the most draining experience yet. But he couldn’t hold them back, 2017 was the year of breakthroughs, of pioneering and his degree was in many instances not a priority at all. 

They finished the Wings tour while already preparing for the Love Yourself phase, where they finally had nearly full control of the full artistic process. He was so looking forward to it, it spoke of their fears and wishes to a visceral level. It was their message, ideology, and the footprint they would leave behind. Hopefully, if it was worth it, their legacy. They had to go through with it, the world had to see it.

But in order to go through with it, they had to decide. If the company was to schedule the world tour for the second half of the year then they had to commit. They couldn’t announce projects and concerts and then fall through. And that was where all problems started.

It was just too hard. They had fought so hard to have a spot in the limelight, but now they were basically being thrust into it successively and carelessly. 

Of course they never knew it would get this big, so at first it just sounded good, a worthwhile opportunity to do more, to reach further, to spread their positive message. UNICEF heard of the ‘Love Yourself’ message and one domino pushed the other. They just couldn’t refuse to use their voice for the greater good. They dedicated themselves to spreading the message, creating merch to donate to the cause, and to making ARMY proud. And in return, ARMY helped them reach new heights.

With every award, from Best in Music at the 9th annual Shorty Awards to Top Social Artist at the 2017 Billboard Music Awards, they had hoped to bring someone closer to peace, fend off loneliness, and have more people enjoying their vibe. They were the first K-pop group to enter the Billboard Hot 100 with a single, 'DNA', and album, 'Love Yourself: Her'. They were thankful to their fans, who gave BTS the opportunity to be at the Billboard Music Awards in what was their first television appearance in the US, so later when they were asked to perform, they said yes. BTS was the first K-pop act to perform at the American Music Awards with DNA, and from then on the ball kept rolling. They filmed so many shows, Jin wasn’t quite sure what was what and when. And now they were just back from performing at Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve in Times Square, New York, and they couldn’t stop. The next phase was here, not even a week of rest and they were back in the company deciding things and planning. It was exhausting, hallucinating, frightening and that was why they were at the rope’s end.

The company wanted to profit from the wave, the producers wanted recognition, the fans wanted them to achieve new unsurmountable records every day and meanwhile, BTS was just left exhausted, trying to not bite off more than they could chew. Now the opportunity had turned into a heavy constant pressure on their neck that they couldn't shake off. They couldn’t say no, that would be spitting back at ARMYs, that could never be. It was just… hard.

He knew it was, he could see how draining it was but… he still wanted to push through. He didn’t know how exactly and that was what he needed to figure out, because as their hyung—

He suddenly stopped his thoughts and looked around, confused. Yes, he was there at Yeouido Hangang Park as was normal for him when he strolled. It was maybe ten thirty in the evening now, but the street lights made it look almost like daytime. There was no crowd at that hour, but there were still a fair amount of people either coming off work or going to work, or drunk after dinner or going to have dinner. He looked at those people passing him by from where he was seated on a bench and he wondered what was wrong with him. Clearly, everything else seemed normal.

Then what the hell was that hum? He looked down at his own chest and laughed in disbelief at himself. His chest was buzzing, almost vibrating. It was so comical, was he finally losing it with the stress? Was he sitting there, wondering about ways to help the members while his own body was calling it quits?

Tears came to his eyes, he was touched so deeply the hairs on his neck stood on end. He was definitely not above crying, that was not an issue for him if that would release his stress, but that was when he realized he didn’t feel stressed. No, the buzzing hum was warm and soft and gentle, like perfume, and he got up from the bench and started looking around.

Why was he looking around when everything looked absolutely normal and that feeling was deeply sprouting out from his chest? No idea. He just had to go, there was something he needed to find. If there was a perfume, there had to be a flower, right?

There was this unmistaken breeze guiding him somewhere, he felt like a paper wind vane being blown on in a specific direction, but he couldn’t see anything that—

He froze with wide eyes just looking at the woman rushing towards him like a gust of wind. He was standing right in her way, they were on a collision course, but she was looking down while utterly absorbed in the phone call she was having. That’s when he thought, Jin you idiot, you should have been listening, not looking.

The corners of his lips rose the second he predicted she would crash into him, which he absolutely wanted for some reason, but she subverted his expectations. His features went from cheeky to slumped when she dodged him expertly and just walked right past him without even looking up.

He turned to widen his eyes at her in a complaint, but she was walking steadily and quickly away without looking back. Well, he scoffed, how could she just focus so hard on her call or whatever that she didn’t see him standing right in her way? One should pay attention to their surroundings instead of—

He gasped, Wait!

It had to be her, there was no mistaking the happiness in his heart making it bounce around inside his chest. The wind was blowing him in her direction, it was her. Her, huh? He grinned widely in the last meters to get to her, he couldn’t believe he had found her.

He grabbed her hand and she immediately turned around with shock on her face. She had been saying something on the phone, but she was now muted just staring at him with big wide eyes.

He could tell her eyes were big and expressive just at that moment, but he wondered how they would look when she smiled. Her cheeks were pink from the start of the year cold, and the little cloud of steam in front of her small heart-shaped mouth as she breathed was freakishly cute. Her long brown hair was tied in a ponytail and her jacket covered her almost to her knees, not letting him actually see much of her.

He caressed her hand with his thumb gently as he smiled at her, giving her time to come to the same realization as him — this was it. Meanwhile, a tingly sensation was shooting up his arm and filling him with an indescribable euphoria that just confirmed his belief. His eyes were shining as his lips curved in a smile full of endearment.

Yet she was just shocked, staring at him. She had felt the breeze playing with her feelings, but she thought it was the stress, the burnout, so she just focused on getting home. But that tingly sensation… it had to be, right?

But how could it be him?! He was gorgeous, what the heck was that? It was hard enough to believe they had just crossed paths like that at Yeouido Hangang Park (what were the chances?!), but how could he be so… beautiful? Symmetrical? Proportional? Flawless?

Was he real? Was he a painting? A doll? Was he just a dream? Was she dreaming?

“What’s your name?”

Her brain short-circuited. “I’ll call you back,” she murmured without thinking, putting the phone down instantly.

His voice was beautiful too, but that wasn’t possible. None of that could be happening to her, how could destiny do that to her?

“Jaehwa,” she breathed, still quite unsure if she was dreaming, and kind of hoping she was.

He smiled but looked down, he was seemingly shy yet meanwhile she could only focus on his pouty lips. He looked so adorab— 

What the hell was she thinking?!

“My name is Jin. Kim Seokjin.”

She nodded, still with wide eyes though now they were staring at his chest as if she couldn’t face him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, raising their hands still clasped together in between them.

She blinked, a deep shade of crimson spreading on her cheeks. She could barely breathe, this wasn’t natural. What was he, a reincarnated prince?!

She stammered, “I’m… I’m not sure about what’s happening.”

“I think we’re soulmates,” he told her calmly, like a summer breeze whispering a secret. She felt a shudder, that was not possible. How could he feel so… intimate with her, like they had no secrets, when she just met him. “You know, tingling sensation and all.”

She swallowed hard, refusing to blush even more, then she bit her lip. Right. She couldn’t even bring herself to walk away, no matter how incredulous she was. She couldn’t rationalize her way around that feeling, and her skin was still humming all the way to her chest now. Her heart was reveling in the feeling as if she had been waiting all along. Well, maybe he was right. It was absolutely impossible and ridiculous but… maybe?

She took a deep breath and adjusted her coat around her neck, preventing the cold from slipping in, and to do so she had to let go of his hand.

“This will sound weird but… would it be okay if I just gave you my number?” She asked and he blinked his long eyelashes in surprise. “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired and I fear I’m just hallucinating this whole thing.”

He chuckled, “I see, I understand. We’re both quite tired, I think.”

She looked up at him — he did look tired with dark circles around his eyes, despite his smile. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, “How about you give me your number and I message you in the morning? Then you know if you got a message, it’s because it’s real and this really happened.”

Her eyebrows furrowed for a second before she nodded curtly, “Fine, that sounds good.”

You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜

Short and sweet!

— lube job | kth

⟢ pairing: racer!Taehyung x racer!reader   

⟢ word count: 1.6k

⟢ genre + warnings: motorbike racing au |exes to lovers | nsfw 18+, minor angst, smut, fluff (smangst © & smluff © are we surprised?) || cursing, yelling, illegal racing, semi-public outdoor unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral - female receiving, creampie 

⟢ summary: Your late father taught you and your ex everything you know about motorcycles. Tonight, you have to make him proud and beat your ex for the grand prize. Your future—and heart—depend on it.

⟢ an: sorry not sorry for the sexual innuendos that made writing this so much fun LOL am i cheesy yeah a little bit but honestly? dad jokes for the win! Jin understands me. edited to present tense.

“You gotta tighten it up, babe… It’s not my fault if you’re loose!” Yoongi leans forward and you push back into him, causing him to groan.

“Just don’t be up my ass!”

Twisting the wrench, you tighten the last screw and step back, admiring the finished product. Your wheels are ready for the race. Being in the illegal racing scene, tonight is a special night; co-ed motorcycles line up at the faded white paint line of the abandoned track you’re gathered at. 

“3 minutes ladies and gents! Get your bikes ready!” 

Continuar a ler

Wow!

HEARTS ON HEARTS | blend 01.

──────── ⵌ RAINBOW ...

──────── ⵌ SWEET ...

──────── ⵌ FLOWER ...

──────── ⵌ PASSION ...

i don’t know if i will be able to do more before Valentine’s Day, but i wanted to drop this at least. :> it’s a smol extension of my animated lines series, but in hearts ! ( I may or may not have stared at this in dark mode for a long time HAHAH )

adding a tw for eyestrain because of the colours, but I hope you enjoy 🤍

blends : 001 / 002

please like, reblog, and credit if you use :)

support me through ko-fi | more dividers →