— The gaze staring back at you through the mirror intentionally might not be your own, but the soul meant for you to love is.
DETAILS — [ 18+ | drabble | 1.1k ]
PAIRING — youngjo x gender-neutral! reader
GENRES — soulmate! au, smut, fluff
WARNINGS — voyeurism, masturbation, fear, a spell-bound mirror
A/N — i don’t think this drabble does this concept justice but i was hysterical while writing it so maybe you’ll be the same while reading it.
oneus m.list | navi
You could feel the sneeze threatening to break from your nose the moment the large sheet was tugged from the reflective piece. Dust fluttering through the air and glistening within the light beaming through the curtains, the decrepit edges of the gaper object captured your attention first. Once cradled by the heavy sheet, the wooden surrounding of the glass didn’t hold a single speck of dust. Carved and textured to the makers expectations, the wondrous mirror held a significance.
Inclined on top of your dresser, the dimming sunset caused an eerie glow to fill your bedroom, the mirror filtered by a deep orange and purple. Your index finger brushed against the chipping paint on the outer rim of the reflective piece, the scent of chemicals filling your nostrils as you backed away from the object. Tampered and remote, your senses felt drained when your eyes met your reflection. Body bending down and fingers grasping at the fabric of the sheet now on the floor, you stood up straight with knitted brows when the sound of a groan caught your ears.
The sheet between your fingers slipped from your grasp, an image in the mirror opposite of the reflection you witnessed seconds before. Playing like a movie, a man laid on top of his mattress, the covers pooled at his waist as his hand pulled at his length. The grunts and pants leaving his lips made you suck in a breath, a harsh swallow of the saliva watering your dry mouth slipping down your throat with a quiet gulp.
It was alluring, your gut pulling at your nerves in your body to become aroused while your mind fought to move your limb to sway the sheet back over the mirror. In limbo, you watched as his head pressed back into his headboard, Adam’s apple bobbing when the pad of his thumb ran along the tip of his cock.
Eyes watering, you couldn’t blink, an aroma to the man begging for you to keep watching, to not miss a second of it. His tongue poked from between his teeth, biting down on the wet muscle as his hand swiveled around his length, clenching around his cock to force himself into an orgasm. You watched as his hips lifted from the mattress to meet his own hold, stuttering as white liquid poured onto his thighs. His weight shifted on the soft bed, falling into the spread of the covers in post-orgasm as his eyes shot open.
You couldn’t move fast enough. The covers of his safe space pulled over himself, his gaping stare through the mirror evident that he could see your figure. His lips parted, mouth agape when his fingers connected with his discarded underwear beside his form, pulling the fabric up his legs from beneath the blankets before sliding his feet to the floor. Pacing up to the mirror, your dilated pupils wreaked havoc on his expression, a scared look in his eyes as he pulled the comforter from his bed and tossed it over his own mirror.
The breath that escaped your lungs was longed for. Your form bent over as you blinked rapidly while attempting to regain the sanity that left you from the scene. Remorse built in your heart, the uneven beat of the organ never once occurred until your feet placed you before the reflective object meshed with an eluded feeling swimming in your mind.
You felt the vibration of your back popping when you stood up, eyes shifting from the cold flooring to the same setting around you depicted in the mirror once more. Your own eyes glared back at you, solid and concerned, flustered. You could no longer see the man nor his room, your mind left to wonder just how the occurrence took place.
Piecing together all that you questioned in your mind, your fingers connected with the wooden frame a second time. Pulling the object into your palm, you used all of your strength to lift the mirror away from the wall, the sound of an item hitting the ground catching you by surprise as you let the mirror fall back into its place. Scattering down to the floor in search of the sound, a faded piece of paper floated from the breeze created by your body, the page slipped between your fingers as you lifted it to read.
“With only two alike in the world, here you see through the glass to find your connected soul. Remember: it only works if you’re both looking.”
The words on the page made you reel back with more questions than answers. The print read that the man you witnessed was somehow connected to you, but the strike of fear that took over him led to you wondering the true accuracy of the mysterious object.
Staring between the synopsis and the reflective glass itself, a bulb in your mind brightened so much it nearly burst. Fingers clenching into your palm, the cool structure of the mirror vibrated within the wooden frame as your knuckles bounced against it, knocking on the speculum as you would a door.
The reflection materialized, warping as the thick blanket over his mirror slowly plucked to the side. Large, brown eyes staring through the small crack of space, the man was still on edge. Brunette hair fluffed on his head, he slowly pulled the cover until you could make out every feature of his face. Prominent cheekbones rosy with plush lips, his hand laced into the locks of his hair to push it away from his face, his gaze dead set on you through his mirror.
“W-What is this?” his voice delicately asked, tone tired and treed.
You couldn’t find the proper words to explain the situation, finding the small page in your hand to be the only source of information you had on tap. Raising your hand into the air, you pressed the paper flush against the smooth surface of the mirror. His hand tugged at the blanket, pulling it farther from the mirror to let the light of his lamp give him the sight to read the rugged page. Pupils follow along with the flowing words, his lips silently reading what you had moments before, knitted brows giving you an ache in your stomach.
With the gut feeling that he was seconds from pulling the blanket back over the mirror, the entire fabric escaped from the reflective glass. His full body in your view, his large eyes finally delved into yours with a sense of rationality that fate had brought you both to own the only two mirrors alike.
“I don’t believe we’ve properly met yet.” he spoke with a louder tone now, raising his hand to send you a wave. “I’m Youngjo.” he smiled.
