#on another note i think its about time we have soulmate AU for these two

[amimochi]

Fellow Travelers Omegaverse AU (that no one asked for 😂)

On the outside Tim seems like the perfect image of a beta, he's hardworking, religious and plain. But he actually hiding a big secret, not only he's homosexual but he's also an omega both things that can get him fired from the state government in the 50s. His secret was uncovered by Hawk, a war hero alpha whom he met on election night.

More HC below cut! 👇

- Tim was using drug/scent blocker to hide his scent

- Hawk and Tim are a fated pair so the scent blocker doesn't work on Hawk (Thus, Tim's surprised Pikachu face)

- Hawk is arranged to marry Lucy, another Alpha from an influential family in DC

- Lucy became pregnant, and they parted ways in 1957, soon after Tim learns that he's also pregnant with Hawk but he doesn't want to ruin Hawk's family so he keeps quiet

- Tim named him Jackson, while Lucy named her baby girl Kimberly

- In the 1960s, Hawk and Lucy are going through a divorce. Hawk helps Tim and his child hide from the FBI.

- Hawk feels a strange familiarity with Jackson right away but he doesn't figure it out until later, while Jackson realises it within a few days he meets Hawk.

This Omegaverse AU will not leave my mind so I just drew it. I think we need more Omegaverse AU in the fandom, what does everyone say? 👀✨

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - three (j.yh)

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate. two (section 1); (section two) | three | four | series masterlist 🔗read on ao3 ✨across stardust pinterest board

note: thank you for all the warm notes on part two!! part three is fluffy, smutty, angsty, and full of plot so please enjoy. parts four and five are in the works, but tbd on post date.

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, anxiety, nightmare, almost panic attack/talk of panic attack, frank conversations around sexual history / bad sexual relationships that could be triggering for some readers, oral m receiving, extremely descriptive blowjob / throat fucking, messy/desperate sex, emotional sex, creampie, rough sex, fights/arguments and heavy language

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 12.6k

It’s still dark when you wake up on the third day, the sky still inky black, but when you open your eyes you’re pushed right into consciousness like it’s time to get up and get your day started. When you shift your hand back to find him, the bed is cold. You take a breath and listen to your apartment, but everything is painfully silent.

A sharp spike of alarm courses through your chest at the thought that Yunho might not be here, but the panic only lasts for a moment. 

“I’m downstairs,” Yunho calls softly, “don’t worry,” 

You drop back in the bedding with a sigh of relief, but when you catch sight of the clock reading three in the morning you can’t help but worry about him. 

“Baby,” You say as you roll to the edge of the bed, “What are you doing up?” 

He sighs, “I can’t sleep,” 

“I got that,” You tie your robe around your body and head toward the stairs, “is something wrong? You’re just sitting down here in the dark,”

He doesn’t have his phone in hand and the lights are still low, and he scrubs a hand over his eyes before looking up at you as you descend the stairs, “Just thinking,” 

“About?” You step closer, trying to see his face in the dark, the room only partially illuminated by city lights.

He reaches for you and you take his hand, letting him pull you in close to stand between his open legs.  With another heavy sigh, Yunho wraps his arms around you and lets his forehead drop into your stomach. 

You squeak at the sudden way he gathers you up, but once you’re steady on your feet you soften, and let your hands drop, one on his shoulder and the other threading into his hair. You card your fingers through his locks slowly and search yourself for the thread of his feelings, but all you can pick up on is anxiety. “Hey,” You murmur, “what’s wrong?” 

His fingers tighten on the silk of your robe, “I don’t want to leave,” he confesses quietly. 

“Oh, Yunho,” 

He’s quiet, too quiet, and a second stretches into a minute while he holds you, but you feel the rising tension in him almost like it’s in the air around you. 

“How do we do this?” He finally says, his face still buried in your abdomen, “How do we have both? I feel like I’m abandoning you if I leave, I feel like, it feels like,” 

You feel the tide of panic and you hush him softly, “Baby, breathe,” 

He grips your hips, his forehead digging into your stomach, “I had a t-terrible dream,” 

“Shh,” You rub a hand up and down his back, holding him close to you, “it was just a dream,” 

“I don’t,” He swallows, shaking his head, “what if it wasn’t, what if,” 

“Breathe,” 

“They took you away,” He drags in a harsh breath, “they took you and I couldn’t find you, and everyone was watching but no one was fucking doing anything, and I couldn’t feel you anymore, and,” 

You catch the shadow of an image in his mind, a silent stadium full of onlookers while he ran row to row searching for you, his throat hoarse from screaming, every expression blank and disinterested around him. 

You shiver, tightening your hold on him as he sucks in another sharp breath. 

He’s one wrong thought away from a panic attack, and you tuck your fingers under his chin to drag his head up, “Yun, Yunho, look at me,” 

His breath is fast, dysregulated, his expression stressed in a way you’ve never seen, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” 

“Shh,” You cup his cheeks, soothing him as best you can, “I’m right here, no one did anything to me,” 

“It felt so real,” 

“It wasn’t,” 

“But it could be,” His chest aches, “I can’t lose you like that, they can’t take you away like that,” 

“Baby, who’s they?” You murmur, your thumb stroking a line over his jaw. 

“I don’t know,” He says in a rush, “but you were at the dorms with me and we were asleep and they pulled you out of bed, they took you, and you were gone before I… I couldn’t even see where they,” 

His panic tightens again and you shake your head, “No, no, no,” you murmur, “look at me, take a deep breath.” 

He drags in a ragged breath along with you and you pause before slowly letting the air out. 

“I am right here,” You run your hands down his arms to get him to hold you closer, “it was just a bad dream.” 

“But,” He manages, and then lets out another shaky breath, his eyes dropping away from your face.

”No,” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and card your fingers through his hair, “don’t let those thoughts in,” 

He holds steady, his chest tight but starting to loosen with every slow breath. You model it for him, bringing him along with you into the breathing exercise, and then finally he nods just a little, “I’ve never felt like this,” 

“Tell me,” You murmur, softly stroking his shaggy hair at the base of his neck. 

He swallows, his throat bobbing, and then a confession, “I’m terrified,” he says hoarsely, “I love you more than I ever,” 

His words die on his lips and you murmur your reply softly, “I love you too,” 

With a breath he continues, the words spilling out now, “And I’m just supposed to put it away?” His hands tighten on you, “I’m supposed to pretend you’re just someone? And not be with you when you need me, not be,” he shakes his head, “how is any of that fair to you, or what you deserve?” 

“Yunho,” You say softly. 

“I shouldn’t even,” He looks down, shaking his head in what you can only read as disappointment in himself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” 

You can feel him boxing it up, shoving his emotions and his panic down, putting on a brave face you never asked for.

“Hey,” You say, a little more sharply than you intended and his head snaps up, “don’t do that with me, don’t pretend.” 

He sighs, “it’s just,” he tries, and you can see the exhaustion in his face, “I told you I would figure it out, I promised you,” 

Whatever arcane concept of masculinity has him trying to shield his stress from you ends tonight, and you shake your head to get him to stop going down this path. 

“Alright,” You say when he falls silent, your hands on his cheeks to keep his eyes on you, “let’s play worst case scenario,” 

His brows draw together, “What?” 

“Hana and I played it all the time when things got bad,” You tell him, “you tell me the worst case scenario for the thing you’re anxious about,” 

“This is a game?”

”Just trust me,” 

He sighs and squeezes your hips before letting his hands fall slack to his own thighs, “Um,” he says, “okay, worst case scenario,” 

“Do your worst, really,” You nudge him. 

He shoots you a mildly amused expression and then rubs a hand over his face, reality sinking back into him, “Worst case?” He starts off, “We get found out, you get fired, I get fired, I owe thousands of dollars back to the company, the public hates us, and we’re both unemployable pariahs who’s friends don’t even speak to us anymore because they’re all in the industry.” 

“Jesus,” You laugh sharply at the intensity, the near absurdity of having this conversation with him at all, but then you recover.

 “Is that supposed to help?” 

“Shush,” You lay your fingers gently over his lips to keep him quiet, “now listen to me,” 

He nods and you let your hand fall away.

“If I get fired and you get fired and you owe all that money back,” You start with the first thing, “we will still have each other. Our families love us, I have this apartment and I have some money saved, and we won’t be unemployable because I have skills and so do you. I’ll do makeup for dramas or photoshoots or make YouTube videos for all I care, KQ is not the end of the line for me and my work. And you have your dancing, your vocals. If you weren’t an idol, what would you do?” 

“Teach, maybe,” He says quickly, “I’ve thought about that, if things don’t work after year seven,” 

“So not unemployable pariahs, just different jobs,” You point out. 

He stays quiet at that, mulling over your words.

”And our friends would not do that,” You add, “they love us. Do you think they’re that shallow?” 

He sighs, “No, but,” 

“No,” You shake your head, “your worst case scenario sucks, it would be really, really hard, but it wouldn't kill us. It wouldn’t break us up.” 

Yunho nods, “I know, but is it really so bad that I don’t want that for us? That I’m scared I’ll fail at this and you,” 

“Hey,” You draw his arms back up to touch you, wrapping yours around his shoulders, “baby, this is not on your shoulders alone, it is not your job to figure out our relationship.”

”If I wasn’t an idol,” He starts. 

“You are an idol,” You shake your head, “but if you weren’t an idol we might have never met. Don’t play what ifs like that,” 

“y/n,” Yunho sighs.

“Yunho,” You counter, emphasizing his name and trying to get him to snap out of this spiral, “when I said I knew what being with you meant, I meant all of it. I’m under no illusions that this will be normal or easy, and I’m ready to face that for a chance that we could be happy.” 

“Of course we’ll be happy,” He softens. 

“Hold onto that, then,” You stroke his cheek, “and when you forget it or when you have a bad dream, I’ll remind you of it.” 

“We’ll be okay,” He murmurs.

You nod, “We will,” 

He sighs, dropping his forehead against your stomach again and you feel the tension physically drop in his shoulders, “Thank you,” he murmurs. 

“I’m here,” You remind him again, gently running your fingers through his hair. For a moment you wonder if he ever lets anyone see this part of him, the anxiety and the worry and the strain. Yunho is always so calm, positive, and easy-going that you imagine it’s easy for people to gloss over what he must be feeling most of the time. 

He nods against you but stays quiet. 

“I don’t want you to go either,” You murmur, “but we are going to stick to the plan, and someday this will just be a thing that we had to do,” 

He nods, letting out a slow exhale. 

The plan was simple, and worked out between frantic moments of need in every corner of your apartment. For a little while, you’d both keep this to yourselves and play as coworkers, in the fall once contracts were closer to the final year, you’d tell the members together and Yunho would ask for an early renegotiation and for all of the members to stand beside him. After pulling the problem apart from every angle, it’s the only way that makes sense. 

“It does suck though,” You add, “we don’t have to pretend it doesn’t,” 

He laughs, a hot breath of air against you, before he looks up, “It sucks.” He says definitively. 

“How long do we have left?” You glance at the clock in your kitchen. 

He follows your eyes, looking around your hip, “A few more hours,” 

Your hands tense on his shoulders. 

Yunho nods, “I know,” 

You don’t want to make him feel worse so you bite your tongue from saying anything else.

Yunho sits up a little, his hands now sliding to anchor on your hips, and his eyes flick from your eyes down your body. Your robe has parted open a little, just revealing a deeper V of flesh in the valley between your breasts and you feel the first strings of arousal through the bond. 

He squeezes your hips, and then he leans forwards to connect his lips to your soulmark. 

You hum softly, holding him close, “I love you,” you murmur. 

You feel a tug on your robe, and suddenly he’s kissing you with more fervor, his lips traveling down to your belly as your robe parts open, his hands palming the bare flesh of your ass now that your body is exposed to him again. 

He needs you, and you need him, but you can still feel somewhere in his body that taut line of stress and you gently push him back, “Come here,” 

“Hmm?” He lets you push him away, but when you close your robe his brow furrows.

 “Take your sweats off,” You tug at the fabric, and he lifts his hips to push them off immediately, “now just relax,” 

He smiles, “What are you doing?” 

He’s reclined on your sofa in nothing but his boxer briefs, and your body thrums with want. 

“You’ve been taking care of me for days,” You drop down to your knees and settle yourself between his widely set thighs, “and you’re stressed, it’s my turn to return that favor,” 

You drag your hands up and down his thighs, fingertips ghosting along the seam of his boxers, and you watch his eyes go dark and hungry. 

Slowly, you tease him, gentle touches along every bit of his exposed skin until he’s sucking in little pleasured breaths and twitching under your hands, his cock rock hard and straining against his underwear. 

As you toy with the elastic waistband though, his large hand closes over yours, “W-wait, one second.” 

You know what you’ll see when you look up, concern, curiosity, maybe even pity over the thing you alluded to on your first night and never brought up again. 

When you finally do meet his eyes though, it’s different. 

He’s looking at you with tenderness, and he cups your cheek as you look up. 

”You want to know?” You ask softly, dropping back to your heels and letting your hands fall away from his thighs. 

“Only if you want me to know,” He offers, sweeping a thumb over your cheekbone before dropping his hands away, “but,”

The clear implication that could be read even without the bond is that he doesn’t feel like you can cross this line together without knowing. 

”I can tell you,” You say, “it’s not bad, I just didn’t want to bring up an ex on our first night together.” 

He nods, “Okay,” 

“I had a boyfriend in school,” You tell him, ignoring the tense little bubble in your gut at just the thought of him, “we dated for a while, he was fine, but we were both young and I didn’t have much experience with sex,” 

Yunho’s jaw tenses lightly, “Did he?” 

“A little,” You explain, “he had dated two girls before me, but we were both pretty young and stupid,” 

“Okay,” He manages, and you can tell that he’s bracing himself for whatever you have to tell him, but he reaches out a hand for you to take. 

You take it immediately, slotting your fingers together, and he gives you a small squeeze before you continue, “It was mostly fine, just kids having bad sex and pretending it was great,” you laugh, trying to lighten the tension but he doesn’t join you. 

“Baby,” He sits up a little, “what happened?” 

“Nothing,” You tell him, and that’s the truth. There’s no one moment, no axe of trauma to bring down and confess, it’s just a collection of things, disparate moments, and it’s almost always impossible to articulate why it’s affected you like this for all these years. 

His brows furrow lightly as he tries to make out your words and your feelings, and he opens his mouth to say more but you get there first.

”He was rough,” You finally sigh, “I think part of it was that’s what he thought sex was supposed to be like, and I didn’t know any better, so I just did my best to make him happy,” 

His free hand curls into a loose fist, but he nods for you to continue. 

“It was fine,” You assure him, try to explain, “he didn’t do anything wrong, I just didn’t know how to speak up for myself then, and just kind of went along,” 

“And oral?” He asks it plainly, almost medically. 

A flicker of your ex’s hand on the back of your neck flashes in your mind and you roll your shoulders, shifting your gaze, filing the thought back where it belongs in the deep recesses of your memory. 

Yunho waits for your answer, but watches every movement.

”That I think he actually liked rough,” You finally admit, your eyes studying the edge of your couch cushion, “and I didn’t like that. It, that was, it only happened a few times, but yeah,”

His thumb presses circles into your palm, and then he quietly speaks, “How old were you?” 

“Sixteen, seventeen,” 

“How old was he?” 

“The same age,” You look up to him, “it wasn’t like that.” 

He swallows tightly and nods, “Did you tell him to stop or that you didn’t want,” 

“No,” You take your hand out of his and rest your hands on his thighs, “Yunho, we were kids. We weren’t communicating at all, we were pretending we were adults and the only thing either one of us knew about sex was from porn. I thought I was supposed to like it, so I just let it happen. Was he kind of an asshole? Sure, but I’m fine, and it’s not like I said anything at the time,” 

His jaw ticks again, and then he slides his hands overtop of yours, “Maybe not,” he says softly, “but you shouldn't have had to. Guys aren’t idiots, we can tell when someone isn’t comfortable with something,” 

“I know,” 

“I can tell this is more than just something you don’t like,” His hands slide up your arms, “he really scared you,” 

You remember it all too well. The feeling of tears on your cheeks, the ache in your jaw, his hands in your hair, and the way you could only get tiny breaths in through your nose. Your throat had felt bruised for days after the last time you let him touch you. 

“Yeah,” Is all you can give him.

”Fuck,” He breathes, and you wonder if he felt any of that, if he can sense through the bond more than what you’ve said out loud, “I hate this guy,” 

“Yeah,” You smile, finally meeting his eyes, “I know, you and Hana can join forces and hate him together,” 

He smiles, but it’s close lipped and doesn’t reach his eyes, “Was he your first?” 

Your nose crinkles, “Unfortunately,” 

“I hate him,” His hands tense on your upper arms. 

“I know,” You sigh, “but yeah, it’s just one of those things.” 

He just looks at you, no answer for that.

”Everything has been perfect with us,” You continue, “and what I said the other night is true, I don’t do anything I don’t like anymore. I figured that out, but that’s the one thing, I just don’t like it and it does make me uncomfortable. If you don’t pull my hair during or get aggressive with it, I’m totally fine it’s just,” 

“Hold on,” He shifts on the couch, sliding forwards and letting his legs widen to make more space for you so he can pull you in, “now you take a breath.” 

Your mouth falls shut. 

“I wish you told me this before,” He says, cupping your cheek.

”Yunho,” You shake your head. 

“No, it’s okay,” He keeps going, “but I just want you to know that you and me, everything we do together, there is never, ever something I want you to just put up with because you think I need it or like it.” 

“I know that,” 

“Still,” He presses, “and I know you were both young, but baby, that's not a good enough excuse for me.” 

You take in a breath, ready to protest, but he’s not done. 

“We will never do something together without talking about it,” He continues, “especially something like that,” 

He’s so convicted, so serious, you can feel it through the bond and it makes your chest warm, even though he’s not letting you get a word in. 

“You should have had a way to say stop,” His eyes soften, “I hate that you had to feel that way, he should have,” 

“Yunho,” You reach up, taking his hands from your cheeks and holding them in yours, “I love you, and I love that you care for me like this, but I need you to hear something.” 

His brow furrows, but he waits. 

“It sucked,” You hold his gaze, “and it freaked me out, but it was not what you’re implying. I am not scared to give you a blowjob, and you do not need to treat me like glass because I had a shitty ex-boyfriend. I’ve already figured out my own limits, and you don’t need to protect me from something I’ve already handled,” 

His eyes drop and he swallows tightly. 

“I love you,” You remind him, “and I told you so that you’d hear my limits and understand them, but I already trust you to respect them.” 

He exhales, a slow breath between his teeth and he nods, “You’re right, I’m sorry,” 

“It’s okay,” You smile. 

He looks up and leans forward to press a kiss to your lips, and then another for good measure, “Alright,” he says, shaking off his protective instincts, “tell me your limits again, let me listen.” 

You kiss him back, giving his fingers a squeeze, “Okay,” you nod, “don’t pull my hair during, other times it’s fine,” 

“Outside of a blowjob?” He clarifies, his thumb passing over your lower lip once before he pulls his eyes up to yours and smiles softly. 

“Yeah,” You nod, “that’s fine, I just don’t like feeling stuck, like I can't take a breath if I want to,” 

“Hands off,” He says, “got it.”

“Well, I mean,” You start, but he interrupts.

 “Don’t worry about me,” He reminds you, “your mouth alone anywhere near my dick is going to kill me,” 

You huff a quick laugh and nod, “Then yeah, hands off,” 

“What else?” 

“We can work up to it, you actually fucking my mouth, but not yet,” You tell him, “I’m not ready to do that with you yet.” 

“Okay,” He smiles, “if that ever changes just tell me, but for now you’re in control.” 

“Also,” You blush a little, “I don’t think this will be a problem, but uh, no mean names or anything like that,” 

“Not my style,” He says, cupping your cheek and leaning forwards, “and I know you’re fine, and I know you don’t need me to, but I would seriously like to hit this asshole in the mouth,” 

You smile, leaning into his arms, “Fair enough,” 

“Come here,” He wraps his arms around you, kissing you softly, “thank you for telling me,” 

You nod into his kiss, your hands slipping back down to his thighs, “Now, let me take care of you,” 

He hesitates for just a second, but then he nods and pecks your lips. Leaning back, Yunho shows you his hands, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and then he tucks them both behind his lower back and settles into the couch, his thighs spreading wider as he settles into a comfortable position.

Your stomach flips pleasantly, heat pooling in your gut. 

Your fingers return to the elastic waistband of his underwear and you watch his abdominal muscles pulse as he tries to hold himself still. 

”You sure this is okay?” He checks one last time.

You smile up at him and nod, “It’s more than okay, I like it, so just relax.” 

He swallows, a nervous breath slipping out of him. 

Slowly, your hands return to his underwear. 

“God,” He sighs as you pull the front of his boxers down, letting his cock spring up between you, “you’re so pretty,” 

You smile a little, enjoying the relaxed neediness in his voice, and you rest back on your heels to look up at him, “Yeah?” 

His lips quirk, “Tease,”

”You like it,” You kiss his thigh, and then drag your nails along his stomach gently.

 Yunho groans, his cock stiffening even more.

”Should I stop?” You tease him again. 

“A-absolutely not,” He breathes. 

You smile against his skin, and hook your fingers in the elastic of his boxers to drag them down and off his legs entirely, shifting until they’re tossed to the side. You sidle up between his legs again, and take a second to admire the picture that is Jeong Yunho stripped bare on your couch. His skin is deliciously smooth, and all but glowing in the moonlight, muscles taut and his legs long, thighs thick, his cock solid and heavy, drawing you in like a magnet. 

“Cute,” He murmurs at your thirsty expression, but despite the hungry look in his own eyes, he keeps his hands tucked behind his back just like he showed you.

 You ignore his words, and drop your lips back down to his body. You pepper teasing kisses over his thighs, his hips, your hands exploring the plane of his abdomen, the very top of his pubic bone, exploratory touches, soft pleasure, but never landing on his cock. It twitches between you, but you ignore it, kissing the inner crease of his hip and the dusting of dark, coarse hair there, cropped short and tidy. You can just barely feel the start of a trail of hair from his pubic bone to his navel, likely waxed away before the tour but just starting to come in again like a five o’clock shadow. 

He twitches, tiny breaths, gasps, mumbled curses, and you hum pleasantly against his skin at every one. 

When you can feel his resolve starting to crumble, and see a thick pearl of precum starting to bead up on the tip of his cock, and you know he’s ready for more.

On one of your next kisses, you let your mouth linger a little longer, dragging your lips across his skin until you’re nestled at the base of his cock, your hand sliding up from his inner thigh to cup his tight balls. 

He shudders, a groan on his lips, “F-fuck, sweetheart,” 

“Mm,” You finally let your tongue peek out, dragging a wet line from base to tip, “feel good?” 

“So good,” He nods. 

When you look up to him and take in his expression your cunt pulses, his eyes are dark and starving, his plush lips parted in needy awe, and his chest is already flushed red, sweat snaking down the contours of his chest. 

You can’t make him wait a second more. 

You wet your lips, letting saliva pool on your tongue, and then you adjust your position on your knees and finally take him in your mouth properly.

 The sound he makes is one of pure pleasure, his body twitching beneath you, and you hear his hands tighten in the couch cushions behind him. 

He is big though, you weren’t lying when you told him he was the biggest cock you’d ever taken and that no doubt includes your mouth. Your lips are stretched wide, jaw open and nearly straining, clicking as you get it comfortably open for him enough to start to dip your head down. 

You focus first on the head, letting your hand wrap around the shaft that you haven’t figured out if you’ll be able to take, your tongue swirling over the velvety skin and lapping up the salty sweet taste of him.

 “y/n,” He moans properly, “oh my god,” 

You hum, a gentle laugh that leaves him jerking, and then you sink a little lower, your hand starting to pump slowly in time with the movements of your head.

”Oh, that’s it,” Yunho breathes, “oh fuck,” 

You shiver involuntarily at his praise. 

Yunho sucks in a breath, “C-can I talk to you? Is that okay?” 

Your chest warms and you pull off just long enough to give him a reply, “Yes, please, yes,” 

He groans as you return to his cock, lavishing as much attention on the parts you can fit in your mouth as you can. Yunho makes a pleasured noise as your tongue flicks over the seam where his shaft meets the rounded mushroom tip of his cockhead and he sighs, “Sweetheart, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” 

You hum, a gentle reply as you work him over.

”There you go,” His voice is tight, like he’s talking through gritted teeth, “oh, fuck, that’s my perfect girl,” 

You hum again, the praise running right through your body. 

“Yeah,” He sighs, adjusting his thighs a little wider, “does my cock on your tongue make you wet, babygirl?” 

Your fingers tighten on his thigh. 

“Fuck, it does, doesn’t it?” He groans, “Insatiable,” 

You suck in a sharp breath through your nose, dripping your mouth a little lower this time. 

“Three times last night wasn’t enough?” He teases you, warmth dripping from his voice, “You need more?” 

You nod, but don’t lose attention on his cock gliding back and forth over your tongue.

“Good girl,” He shudders, “fuck,” 

You lift away to take a fast breath and dive back in, keeping your ministrations steady with your hand.

He jerks and makes a tight sound, but then he sighs, “Look at me, baby,” he manages, “let me see that pretty fucking face,” 

Your nipples tighten, belly stumbling in warm fits and starts, and you slide back on your heels and let his cock slip free of your mouth as you look up at him.

 You can feel the urge in him to touch you, smooth your hair, touch your cheeks, have his hands on you in any way, but he holds himself still and locks his eyes on yours. 

“Gorgeous,” He sighs, “fuck if you could see yourself,” 

Warmth pools in your cheeks and you smile, letting his cock rest against your lips. Gently you press a kiss there, catching your breath in the brief pause. 

“Fuck,” He grits out, “is it bad if I tell you I want to come all over that face? Those fucking lips,” 

You sigh against him, shaking your head, “I like it,” 

His eyes roll, hips twitching, “Of course you do,” 

The moment his eyes leave you, you slide yourself back up, hot tongue dragging up and over and down until you’re taking more of him in your mouth than before. 

A tiny thread of anxiety pulls in your chest, but it relaxes within seconds. His hands haven’t moved, he’s fought every impulse of his hips, and all you feel through the bond is overwhelming pleasure, need, and pride. You’ve never, never felt safer.

You sink down further now, letting him slide back deep down until you feel the head of his cock pressing into the spongy part of your throat, your lips nearly to the base of him and pressed to his pubic bone. 

“S-shit, fuck,” His thighs twitch, but still he holds himself in place. 

You bob your head back up, teasing his shaft with the hard press of your tongue before sinking down again. 

“Ah, ah, mm,” You’ve never heard him sound like that, almost a whine. His teasing dominance falling to the wayside the moment you let yourself go to fully worship his cock.

Your hands tighten on his thighs and you repeat the motion, faster this time and sinking down far enough to take him all the way down your throat to the hilt. 

He whines again, but your throat tickles and you choke a little before lifting higher up, adjusting your position and managing your gag reflex. 

“You okay?” He’s breathless, “Hey, hey,” 

You lift free and glance up at him, “I’m fine, relax,” 

“God,” He shivers, “this is so good, but you don’t have to take it all the way if,” 

“Baby, shut up,” You sink your mouth back down on his cock, sliding your lips and tongue down until he’s buried to the hilt again. 

“Jesus f-fuck,” He moans, and when you glance up you can see his head has fallen back to the couch cushions. 

The urge to cough is there again, your jaw aching, but you tuck your thumb into your palm and squeeze it tight on the off chance that the old wives tale has any merit, and you center yourself. 

“Ah, mm, mm,” He’s fully trembling, at your mercy in a way that you know is raw and different for him, “sweetheart, oh, oh god,” 

You can do this, you want to do this. Especially if it means he’ll make that sound again. 

With another steady breath through your nose, you draw up and down and find a rhythm, working him faster until you’re bobbing your head and fighting through the little chokes, not because you have to but because you want to. You draw measured breaths of air in and out of your nose so you don’t lift your mouth away, and you let yourself go. 

He’s tense beneath you, slick and shaking, the taste of him salty and sharp but not in a way you want to pull away from at all. It’s messy, noisy, and wet in all the right ways, and you feel his pleasure start to gather and build in his gut. Your hands slide over him, one to brace yourself on his tense stomach, and the other reaching under to cup his balls again, firm and hot in your palm. 

”Fuck, fuck,” Yunho’s hips pull back at that, arching away from your mouth, “jagi, stop,” 

You whine a little, you knew you had him close, but you pull your mouth away and take a sharp suck of air, “W-why’d you stop me?” You ask, breathless. 

“Need to be inside you,” He pants, freeing his hands from behind his back and reaching for you, “right now,” 

He hooks his hands under your arms and pulls you up off the floor, crashing his mouth onto yours. You slide up his body, hastily opening your legs to straddle him as his hands move again, one locking onto your hip to steady you and the other frantically pushing your robe back open. You moan as he slides two fingers through your slit to check your wetness, groaning pleasantly when he feels you slick and ready for him. 

“Fuck,” He tugs you closer and you shuffle up his thighs as he directs his wet cock to your aching entrance, “sweetheart,”

”Please,” You beg, head fuzzy already at the catch of his cockhead on your clit. 

He directs your hips, and then in one desperate motion he jerks his hips up and drags your body down to sink himself all the way, nestled deeply inside you. 

The sudden stretch and sensation is sharp and hot and you moan, gripping down on his shoulders and shuddering above him. 

“I-I’m sorry,” He babbles, kissing across your face, “need you,” 

Your mouths find each other again, heat pulsing between you in the dark of your apartment and slowly you start to rock together. Following sensation only, instinct, need, all the ways you want to comfort each other, pleasure each other. He’s fucked you countless times this weekend, but this is making love, heady and dizzy like the first time your bodies coupled close. 

You grind against him, Yunho’s kisses traveling down your neck, your collarbones, pleasure rolling through you in a foggy thrill. 

“Feel so good,” You breathe, holding him close, “need you inside me all the time, fuck,” 

He groans, his mouth peppering hot kisses over your breasts, tongue teasing one nipple while his fingers tease the other, “That’s my girl,” 

“Mm, yes,” You sigh, rocking in the perfect rhythm. 

“Beautiful,” He pushes your robe open more, hands caressing you, until the fabric droops off your shoulders and leaves you naked to his hungry eyes, “my beautiful girl,” 

“Yunho,” You gasp sharply at the tweak of your nipple, at the praise, at his cock filling your channel. 

“Ride me like that,” He nods, eyes blown wide, “don’t stop, want you to come,” 

“K-kiss me,” You beg him with a pant, sensation blooming through your body. 

He drags you closer, locking your lips together, and you moan into his mouth. He nods, humming his approval for your desperate sounds, and you roll your body against him harder, heat spreading through your chest as you get closer and closer to the edge. Tangled up like this, without all that much room to move, you both just jerk and roll your hips, spurned on by the desperate need to feel each other falling apart one more time.

”There,” Yunho groans when he feels you getting close through the bond, one hand locking onto your ass to help steady your rutting movements, “right there, sweetheart,” 

“O-oh,” Your eyes shut tightly as a wave flows through you, pleasure a tight bubbling sensation in your gut, “Yunho, baby, oh,” 

“Come for me, jagi,” His voice is low, husky, his fingers gripping you tightly, “feel me inside you, come around my cock,” 

A shudder lances through you, and you fall apart in his arms, a mess of words babbled through your lips you can’t even hear. The thought of him inside you a singular, starving thought. He’s leaving, in a few yours you’ll be on this couch alone, and in a choked breath you beg him for more. You want the ache in your hips, the wet feeling of his release, bloomed bruises and a mouth kissed raw, you want to know not a second of this was a dream. 

Yunho wraps you up, his kiss hotter, needier as he pulls you back from the spiral of your thoughts, “Tell me you love me,” 

“I l-love you,” You whine against his cheek, your orgasm flooding through you. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” 

“All yours,” 

His hips roll as he holds you steady above him, fucking you slow and deep, “I can feel you,” a wave of pleasure and emotion washes through you from his side of the bond, “like you’re buried in my chest,” 

You nod, holding onto him for dear life as he loses himself. 

“You’re part of me,” He says between kisses, his forehead pressed on yours, “for as long as I live, you’re right here,” 

Yunho tugs your hand to lay flat over his chest, over the knotted soulmark on his breastbone and you gasp sharply, nodding again, “I love you,” 

“You feel me too, don’t you?” He manages.

”Always,” Your hips roll, meeting his tempo better, an undulation of your bodies that kisses your hips together with every breath, “always,” 

“Here,” He lays his hand flat over your chest, holding your gaze, “I’m right here,”

 Hot tears flood your eyes, overwhelming emotion, pleasure, and all you can do is nod. 

“That’s it,” He shudders, taking a sharp inhale, dragging your body back and forth with his other hand, “just like that,”

You’re both close, your own orgasm stretched long and his rocketing back full force. 

You whine his name, grip down on his sweat-slick shoulders. 

“Always here,” He manages, still breathless, “I’m always inside you,” 

“B-baby,” You’re a split second away, “Yunho!” 

He groans, his pace stuttering as he feels you start to come around him again, and he pulls you down flush to his hips. You feel his release wash through you, and the warm sensation of his cum pumping deep into you, filling you. 

Yunho’s face is buried in your neck as he pants, feeling your fluttering pulses still rocking through you, “Always inside you,” he shivers, kissing your chest, “always you and me,” 

Tears spill over, your fingers knotting into his hair as your bodies slowly rock together through the final washes of pleasure. 

When the wave passes, cool air washes over your skin and you shiver in his arms.

”Don’t be scared,” Yunho murmurs against your throat, feeling the thread of your grief underneath it all, “I promise you, we can do this,” 

“I know,” You breathe into his shoulder. 

“It’ll be hard,” He murmurs, straightening up and finding your face with gentle hands, “but you were right, we’re going to be so happy,” 

You nod, breathing back another wave of emotion. 

“This part will pass,” He murmurs. 

“I know,” You whisper softly in the dark safety of your apartment, “but I’m really going to miss you,”

He kisses you gently, full of tenderness, “Not for long, I promise,” 

“We’ll make this work,” You nod, trying to search for your earlier strength.

”We will,” He says, “we have a plan, and we have each other.” 

“Yunho,” You hold him close, “I love you,” 

“I love you too,” He seals it with a kiss, “always.” 

You nod against him, soaking in his warmth and his presence for a little longer.

After a few minutes he sighs, “Let’s go back to bed for a little while longer,” 

You agree, you let him take you upstairs. Wrapped up in each other’s arms you rest, but neither one of you falls asleep. Quietly you watch the night sky break hazy blue with the dawn, and you hold onto each other until the day gets up and moving around you, until it pulls him through the motions and out the door. Last kisses, last promises, a heavy ache nestling deep in both of your chests. 

On the couch, alone again, you close your eyes and search yourself for the thread of him, clinging to the tender ache in your ache in your hips, and the heavy beat of his heart with yours. 

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

Plans are just plans after all. 

Yunho has almost told his best friend about you a thousand times over, but every time the words die on his tongue. Keeping you a closely guarded secret is both the scariest and the smartest thing he thinks he’s ever done though, because the more people know about you the more risks there are that he can’t control. And he’s never been willing to be risky with you, not even before he realized you were his. 

Three long months have passed since that weekend in your apartment, and he’s seen you alone a total of nine times. Ten if you count the time he cornered you in the KBS dressing room last comeback, but he doesn’t really count one rushed kiss between panicked glances at the door as seeing you alone. 

Nine times.

It’s not for lack of trying, but this is harder than he ever imagined it would be. 

Four of the nine were for under an hour, two were barely over that, two were proper dinner dates, and one was a full night where he nearly got caught in the morning coming home. 

Coming to your apartment is a bigger production than he imagined in every way. 

For starters, his members were observant, and while his manager was a heavy sleeper, he didn’t go to bed until late. He’s had to cancel more plans with you than he’s made just because there was no safe way to not be seen. Each and every time he makes it to you successfully, there’s a cost. He’s missed dinner plans, been late to practices, and made up lie after lie just so he could see you, touch you even just for an hour. 

It makes sense then why he makes up a weak lie to Yeosang on tonight of all nights, just so he can get out of the dorms and make it to you by an even semi reasonable hour.

It makes sense too the way he fucked you, hard and needy and full of desperation, barely making it into the entryway of your apartment before he pinned you up against the door, leaving dinner on the stove to burn. 

It makes sense in the way he lets the hours go by without checking his phone, without suggesting that he really should be getting back. He’s sick of this, he’s sick of hiding, of constantly missing you, of seeing you at work and looking past you just to protect you. When he finally leaves, on the night he’ll consider your real tenth time together, it’s with a pit in his stomach after making love to you for hours, after ignoring the niggling feeling at the base of his skull that told him this time was different. 

It’s late when he turns the key in his lock, too late, but as long as everyone’s asleep he thinks maybe he’ll sneak in without detection. That idea gets ruined the second he locks the door and kicks off his shoes and sees Mingi and Yeosang quietly sitting side by side on his sofa, serious expressions on their faces. 

“Hey,” Yunho tries to keep it relaxed, tries to think of a white lie, “what’s up?” 

Mingi’s jaw jumps with a pulse of tension, “How about you tell us?” 

His chest aches a little at Mingi’s pained expression. He really had wanted to avoid this.

”What do you mean?” Yunho tries.

Mingi huffs a sharp breath through his nose, an unfunny laugh, “You lied to Yeosang about going out with me tonight,” 

Yunho stays perfectly still. 

“I bumped into him at the studio,” Yeosang explains, “I left my airpods, I went back to pick them up.” 

“Oh,” Yunho says dumbly. 

“Something’s been going on with you,” Mingi gets to his feet, “for months. I thought you’d talk to me if you needed to, and I tried to let you know you can talk to me,” 

Internally, Yunho winces. Mingi had, on several occasions, not so subtly offered himself as a listening ear. 

“But lying like this,” He says, “and you haven’t been sleeping, we haven’t gone out for food in ages, you were late to practice and Yeosangie says he hears you leave after he goes to bed,” 

His stomach tightens. 

“If you need help,” Mingi’s angry, that much is clear, but worry is threaded in his voice, “you’ve got to talk to us.” 

“I know that,” Yunho finds himself saying. 

“I know shit is hard,” Mingi says, “and this year has been rough, I know,” 

Yunho wants to stop him, but he can’t bring himself to say the words. 

“If you’re drinking, or if it’s drugs,” Mingi says, painfully direct despite the uncertainty on his face, “you don’t have to go through that alone.” 

The silence in the room is drowning him, and all at once Yunho realizes how much of a mistake it was to keep you hidden away from his brothers. 

“It’s not that,” Yunho admits hoarsely. 

“Thank God,” Yeosang drops his head into his hands. 

“Then,” Mingi searches his best friend’s face. 

“There is something,” Yunho feels his heartbeat pick up in his chest, and distantly inside himself he searches for the feeling of you, “I should have told you,” 

Mingi crosses his arms, but keeps his voice calm, “Okay,” 

Yeosang stands too, giving Yunho an encouraging nod. 

“I met someone,” Yunho manages. 

“What?” Mingi's arms drop, and Yeosang’s eyes widen. 

In all the years they’ve been together, Yunho’s never discussed a girl like this. Outside of occasionally covering for one another when someone has a hookup, romance and the risk that comes with that to their joint careers is something all eight of them have been diligent about since the beginning. It’s something they promised each other would never interfere, not while their contracts were so strict and so tenuous. 

“It’s more than that,” Yunho confesses, dropping his eyes, “it’s y/n,” 

“What?” Mingi’s voice is sharp, “Our y/n?” 

“How long?” Yeosang blinks. 

“Since Berlin,” Yunho looks up and rushes to the full truth the second he sees Mingi’s expression, “she’s my soulmate, it’s not what you think,” 

Yeosang’s eyes widen, “Our makeup artist is your soulmate?” 

“We didn’t know,” Yunho clarifies, “we touched, not even on purpose, and it was just like… there, we both knew,” 

The truth sits between them, immovable and too real. 

“So,” Mingi says finally, “that’s where you’ve been?” 

Yunho nods, “We have a plan, we just needed some more time before we told anyone,”

”Fuck you,” Mingi shakes his head. 

A spark of defensive anger ignites in Yunho’s gut, “What?” 

Mingi takes a wide step towards him, “Fuck you, I said,” he repeats, “we’ve done everything together since we were fourteen and you didn’t think I’d want to know you found the love of your life?” 

Yunho winces, “It’s not like that,” 

“How is it?” 

“We have to be careful, you know that,” Yunho presses, “I know I fucked up, but people can’t find out,” 

“Am I people?” Mingi’s voice spikes.

”No, that’s,” 

“I wouldn’t tell someone that,” Mingi presses on his logic, “none of us would, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Hey,” Yeosang grabs Mingi’s arm, “our manager will hear,” 

“Maybe he should hear!” Mingi shrugs off his hand. 

Yunho snaps immediately, “Keep your mouth shut,” he hisses, “you can be pissed all you want, but don’t put us in that position because you’re angry with me.” 

“Us,” He repeats, and then internally does the math, “Berlin was four months ago,” 

“I know,” 

“Who the fuck are you?” Mingi shakes his head, “You’ve been lying to our faces for months,” 

“I know,” Yunho drops his shoulders.

”Team meeting,” Yeosang says calmly, “tonight.” 

“It’s late,” Yunho offers.

”The rules are that we deal with something in the moment,” Mingi sneers, “or did you forget that one too?” 

Yunho takes the stinging barb without comment and nods, “Alright,” 

“Thirty minutes, at the studio.” Mingi says.

”I’ll get the others up,” Yeosang offers. 

“I’ll call y/n,” Yunho murmurs.

”Why?” Mingi reels back.

”Because,” Yunho’s jaw flexes, “whatever you feel about this, I’m not talking about her or making decisions that affect her without her in the room.” 

Mingi is speechless, but Yeosang simply nods, “It’s a good idea,” 

Yunho finds his phone, buried in his coat pocket, and grimaces when he sees a string of texts from you. He doesn’t even read them before he presses the call button. 

“Hey,” You answer immediately and his stomach unclenches at the sound of your voice.

”Hey,” Yunho says, “everything’s okay,”

”What happened?” Your tone is sharp and he can feel your tension. 

“The members know,” He keeps it simple, “we’re going to the studio to discuss it. Can you come?” 

“Now?” 

“Yes,” Yunho’s voice softens, “I just, I want you to,” 

“Let me get dressed, I can be there in fifteen minutes,” 

“Don’t rush,” Yunho presses, “and don’t walk at this time of night, take a taxi, I’ll pay for it just don’t,” 

“I’ll be fine,” You remind him. 

“y/n,” 

“I’ll call a cab,” You promise him. 

Yunho nods, “Thank you,” 

“I’ll see you soon,” You promise him, “but are you okay?” 

“Mhm,” Yunho replies shortly, “I’ll see you soon.”

”Alright,” You murmur, “I love you,” 

He can’t not say it back, and softly he replies, “I love you too,” 

When he drops the phone and looks back up to his best friend, the expression on his face is nothing short of abject betrayal. The ride to the studio is the most painful fifteen minutes of his life, followed only by the next fifteen minutes waiting for you, all eyes on him except for his best friend who can’t stop staring at the linoleum.  

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

You take a cab to the studio, just like Yunho asked you to, but it’s almost worse than walking. At least walking you’d have the distraction of movement and your own momentum making you feel like you were going somewhere. Every stop of the taxi makes your stomach lurch and your anxiety double in your chest. Yunho has been silent via text, and the panic of not knowing what you’re walking into is starting to eat at you alive. 

By the time you swipe your keycard you feel dizzy, and when you finally make it up to the practice room you realize those nerves aren’t just yours, but his too. The tension in the room is unmatched, and all eyes zero in on you like a laser beam. 

Words don’t come, but the frozen moment is broken the moment you meet Yunho’s eyes and he stands from his place leaning on the corner desk, cutting through the room to get to you. 

“Hey,” Your eyes flick from him to the room.

”Thank you for coming,” He brushes a hand over your arm and leans in, kissing you warmly on the forehead. 

The room makes no sound to welcome you and you find Yunho’s hand, “Is everything alright?” 

He gives you a tight smile, “Everything’s going to be fine,” 

So no. 

Someone clears their throat and you both take a small step away from each other. For the first time you have a second to assess everyone and it’s possibly worse than you thought. 

Hongjoong looks furious, Mingi murderous, and with the exception of San and Seonghwa, everyone else looks exhausted and in disbelief. 

“Alright,” Yunho says, “let’s talk,” 

Everyone looks to Hongjoong. 

He glances between you both, and then he sighs heavily and runs a hand over his face, “How about we start with an explanation? Yunho?” 

You can feel he has his defenses up, something coiled inside him and ready to strike, but you lay your hand on his forearm and give him a small squeeze and you watch the way he deflates, nodding a little to you. 

“In Berlin,” Yunho starts, his voice much calmer than it would have been without your grounding touch, “when a bunch of staff got Covid, y/n did my makeup for the first time.” 

Hongjoong nods, and you do your best to keep your eyes on him over the rest of the boys. 

“We hadn’t ever touched skin to skin before,” Yunho continues, “but when we did it was like all the stuff you read about, I knew it immediately.” 

“Did you?” Wooyoung breaks in, his eyes locked on you. 

You nod, “Immediately,” 

“Then?” Hongjoong prompts. 

“We tried to keep our distance for the tour once we talked it through,” He says, “the idea was to stay focused on work while we were abroad and to discuss it once we were back home and had the space to do that.” 

Hongjoong only nods. 

“Once we were home though,” Yunho looks down to you, finding your hand and lacing your fingers together, “it’s been different, harder. We are very aware of what this would do if it leaked, we’re taking every precaution, we’re keeping our distance even now.” 

“Were you ever planning to tell us?” Hongjoong finally asks. 

“Of course,” Yunho bristles at that, “we had a plan for that too. Once our contracts were near the six year mark, we planned to come and talk to you like this together,” 

“That’s months from now.” Mingi says dryly. 

”And what was the plan if you were seen before that? Photographed? Caught sneaking out?” Hongjoong says pointedly, “I assume you have a plan for that, otherwise this is incredibly, incredibly foolish of you both.” 

Shameful blush heats your cheeks and you look down, away from their eyes. 

”So no plan,” Hongjoong shakes his head, his voice hardening, “I cannot believe this,” 

“Joong,” Yunho takes a step forwards, “all of you, I know I fucked up, but this is different,” 

Mingi makes a sound of derision. 

Yunho looks to Seonghwa, and everything spins off the rails, “Hyung, tell them,” 

“Yunho,” Seonghwa says softly, “I told you both not to lie,” 

“You knew?” Hongjoong’s voice is sharp. 

“We both did,” San jumps in, ready to make sure Seonghwa isn’t falling on the sword alone. 

“This is not how we do things, this is not okay!” Hongjoong all but yells and you take a sliding step backwards out of the loose circle. 

A hand connects with your arm and you look up to Yeosang, “Hang on,” he says softly, “it’s alright,” 

“What happened to casual hookups but no relationships, hmm?” Hongjoong says, exasperated, “And being honest with us, your team, your brothers,” 

Anger flares inside you, but it isn’t yours, it’s Yunho’s, “You’re not getting it, this isn’t a relationship, this is something bigger than that,” 

“A year and a half,” Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair, “you couldn’t have just waited for a fucking year and a half?” 

“You don’t understand,” Yunho manages.

”I understand you’re willing to lie to us all of a sudden,” He counters, “you’re willing to put your career at risk, and ours, because you’re thinking with your dick,” 

Yunho’s hands tighten into fists and your stomach rolls. This is so much worse than you ever thought possible. 

You shrug off Yeosang’s hand and move for the door, but he catches you again, “Don’t go,” he presses, “this really isn’t about you, it’s about him lying. No one’s upset with you, not really, and Yunho wants you here.” 

You’re frozen, weighing his words and then in your periphery Jongho nods and quietly says, “Just wait,” 

When you turn back to center though, the altercation in the middle of the dance floor has gotten even more heated. 

“Out of line, hyung,” San is squared up between Yunho and Hongjoong, Mingi to the leader’s side still looking ready for a fight. 

“I’m,” Yunho flounders, “I’m not trying to be an asshole, but I’m telling you, you don’t understand what you’re talking about.” 

“Then explain it,” Hongjoong sounds so dismissive. 

“Joong,” Seonghwa murmurs gently, trying to bring the peace, “I know you’re angry,” 

“You’re right I’m angry,” Hongjoong swivels to face his friend, “and I haven’t even touched how angry I am at you for keeping this from me too.” 

“Joong,” Yunho tries. 

“No, no,” Hongjoong spins on his heel, “I think we’re allowed to be a little angry. We have a nine AM schedule, and it’s three o’clock in the morning. You’ve dragged us here to talk about this, not some little interpersonal rift, no, we’re here to find out that one of our own has been putting us at risk for months,” 

“Jesus,” Yunho drags a hand through his hair, emotion rising in his chest, “I’m sorry, I am, but you don’t understand,” 

“I think we understand just fine,” Mingi says, his arms crossed tightly. 

Yunho scoffs, and you feel the reflection of his frustration in your own chest. 

“Oh,” Yunho throws his hands up, “you understand, you all understand.” 

“Yunho,” Wooyoung tries softly, reading his sudden intensity, but it’s no use now. 

“When we touched everything changed,” Yunho insists, “it’s not just knowing she’s my soulmate. I can feel her, all of that shit is true.” 

“But people,” Hongjoong starts, and it doesn’t really matter what his argument is because Yunho steamrolls that too. 

“I don’t care about people,” Yunho says firmly, “I care about her. It’s not a crush, it’s not a flirtation. She’s not a hookup or just any girl, she’s the one and the minute I knew it, it was like the entire universe pushed me towards her until we were together. We’ve been fighting how that feels for months to try and keep this quiet, because both of us would never risk this team, but don’t tell me you understand how it feels. You don’t.” 

The room has gone quiet, and raw emotion fills your chest. 

“I’m still sorry,” Yunho manages, “I shouldn’t have lied to any of you and I know that. I know that.” 

Your heartbeat quickens. 

“But, what would you have me do?” Yunho asks, his voice cracking, “My entire life I’ve worked for this, for us, and I’ve given everything I have to it for every second of the past six years,”

No one says anything to that, because of course he has. They all have. 

Yunho’s shoulders drop, “Am I supposed to give this too?” 

Tears flood your eyes but you hold yourself steady for him. 

His words hang in the silence, but it’s Mingi who finally breaks it, “You’re my brother,” he says, his voice considerably gentler, “I’d never hurt you like that.” 

“Then please,” Yunho implores, “please listen to me, to us, I know we made mistakes, but haven’t I earned that?” 

Hongjoong sinks back against the desk and runs a hand through his messy hair, and slowly he nods. 

“We’re listening,” Mingi relaxes his posture, his eyes softening, “we are,” 

Yunho swallows tightly and nods, taking a breath. 

Hongjoong’s eyes flick from Yunho to you, “y/n, come back, I’m sorry,” 

Yunho turns in a flash and catches where you are in the room, close to the door with Yeosang and Jongho blocking your exit, eyes full of tears and arms wrapped around yourself. 

“Baby,” He breathes, crossing the room once again for you, “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” 

“It’s okay,” You breathe, pulling back the tears, “I’m fine,” 

“You’re crying,” He tugs you in, kissing your head. 

“I’m fine, let’s talk to them,” You brush off his attentions but you feel him through the bond, a comforting brush of his mind on yours, and you find his hand to lace your fingers together. 

He draws you into the circle, and you brush away any lingering tears with your free hand before taking a deep breath. 

“We,” Hongjoong looks around the circle and then back up to you both, echoing Mingi’s words, “we’re all listening.” 

Yunho’s nervous, you can feel it, but you give his hand a squeeze and look up as he starts to speak, “Someday,” he offers, “you’ll meet your person and it will make more sense why we both acted the way we did, I don’t mean to sound like that, but I really don’t know how to put it all in words,” 

Mingi’s jaw tightens, but he releases it immediately and you can see how he’s trying to keep himself relaxed and steady for his best friend now that the initial wave of anger is passed. 

“We should have told you all sooner, and I know it isn’t a matter of trust, but,” He rubs at the anxious knot in his chest and you feel the echo of it, “you know how our contracts are,” 

There’s soft murmurs of acknowledgement. 

“You know what could happen to her if anyone,” He looks down at you briefly before looking up to Mingi, holding his best friend’s gaze, “I just wanted to keep her safe from that, for as long as I could.” 

Mingi nods, his posture relaxing, “Alright,” 

“What we talk about here doesn’t leave this room,” Jongho offers, laying a hand on Yunho’s arm, “that has always been true, and that includes this.” 

Yunho swallows back a knot of emotion and nods, “Thank you,” 

“You’re bonded already,” Wooyoung notes, not a question but an observation as he watches the two of you together. 

Your hand falls away from your chest, where you were slowly massaging the same spot of anxiety, a mirror of Yunho. 

“Yes,” Yunho murmurs, “I love her, I,” 

“We love each other,” You finally find the strength to speak now that the tension has gone down a little, “and I’m sorry too, but it doesn’t change what we are to each other. He’s it for me,” 

Seonghwa smiles first, and then San follows, “It is pretty romantic,” he says. 

“Can you really feel each other through the bond?” Wooyoung asks, no longer upset but interested. 

“It’s insane,” Yunho nods, a grin breaking out on his face. 

“Even from far apart?” Mingi raises an eyebrow. 

You nod, “I knew something was wrong tonight before he called me,” you explain, “I could just feel it.” 

“Damn,” Wooyoung says, “that is insane,” 

“Yeah,” You manage. 

“Alright,” Hongjoong interrupts, bringing the group back to attention, “then the only thing to do is move forward. We’re a team, we’ve handled a lot of shit together. We can handle this too,” 

Yunho lets out a breath of relief and manages a thank you, but Hongjoong continues. 

“We need a plan, and we need one now.” 

You nod along with his words, “You’re right.” 

“Who knows about you two?” He asks. 

“Just Iseul from staff,” You see the stricken expression on Hongjoong’s face but you calm him immediately, “she’s known since Paris, and she’s my best friend. She hasn’t said a word to anyone and is already covering for us, we can trust her,” 

“Our families know,” Yunho says, “well, Gunho and her sister, anyway,” 

“Would they tell anyone?” Hongjoong asks delicately.

”No,” You’re firm, “Hana understands the risks for us, she and her wife both do.” 

There’s a flicker of understanding in his eyes when he hears the word wife, and he nods, “Good, that’s good,” 

“And you know Gunho,” Yunho says. 

“Tell me again, then,” Hongjoong sighs, “what was your plan?” 

“When contracts are at year six,” Yunho releases your hand so that he can wrap his arm around your shoulders instead, “we were going to come to you, and hope that you would all be willing to do an early renegotiation. We’d come clean as part of that process and find a way to loosen the contracts for dating. We have no plans of being publicly together for a long time, but at least then we wouldn’t have to sneak around and risk our contracts because of it,” 

“It’s not a bad plan,” Hongjoong says, “but by that time you’d have been together for months, it’s too risky to assume no manager will ever look into where you’ve been disappearing or notice something between you at the office,” 

You nod. 

“It makes the lying look worse,” Jongho adds, “if you were just dating anyone I’d say maybe don’t come clean, but you can’t help finding your soulmate.” 

“Only,” You jump in softly, “we’ve never heard of an idol with a soulmate,” 

Hongjoong chews the inside of his cheek, “True,” 

“Have you considered you might be the first?” Wooyoung offers.

 “That’s not possible,” Yunho shakes his head, “there has to be someone,” 

“I mean,” Wooyoung shrugs, “not that any of us have heard of, right?” 

He looks around the circle, but no one jumps in with an example, everyone stays painfully quiet. 

“It’s strange there’s no clause for it,” Mingi says, “an exception,” 

“It’s not,” You sigh, “could you imagine us feeling this way at twenty? Or when you were all trainees?” 

“Companies don’t want us to find soulmates,” Wooyoung nods, “I wonder if this has happened before but we just don’t know, maybe companies keep it covered up?” 

“Yeah, well,” Yunho’s hand tightens on you, “we’re bonded already. I’m sure some companies think they’re more powerful than a centuries old metaphysical connection, but they can go fuck themselves.”

You huff a small laugh and tuck your face into Yunho’s chest. 

“Maybe let’s not lead with that,” Hongjoong sighs, “we want them to agree.” 

“We’re skipping steps,” Jongho interrupts, “no matter what, if you stay together we need to renegotiate contracts.” 

Yunho stiffens, but you settle him with a hand over his chest. 

“A vote,” Hongjoong clears his throat, “and we need to be in agreement. Hands up for early renegotiation conversations with leadership, standing by Yunho and y/n for adjustments to the dating clauses. Remember this path is riskier, and will potentially result in months of negotiations.” 

Hands raise throughout the circle, and your chest grows tighter. 

Your eyes flick from member to member, each one with their hand raised regardless of how tired or angry they were moments ago. 

The only member without his hand raised is Mingi. 

Yunho’s arm falls away from you as he turns towards him, “Please,” 

But Mingi looks straight at you and it roots you to the spot, “Are you ready for this?” 

“Me?” Your eyebrows raise.

”Mingi, don’t,” Yunho warns.

 “It’s going to be public,” Mingi says plainly, “at some point at least. Can you handle that? Can you ignore all the bullshit and stay anyway? Because this job is our dream, his dream, and the fans and the visibility, all of that comes with it.” 

“You don’t have to answer that,” Yunho moves to step between you, as if there’s some kind of threat in the question, but you side step him. 

“Yunho,” You tell him, a soft rebuke in your tone. 

He stays silent. 

Turning your eyes to Mingi you nod, “I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “I don’t do the job you do. I don’t know what that amount of attention or pressure feels like, honestly, I don’t really want to know.” 

He studies your expression. 

“I have no interest in hurting any of your dreams, your careers, and I’ll do everything I can to protect them. But like it or not, I’m not going anywhere,” Your hands clench into fists, “and it would be nice if whatever plan we come up with acknowledges the fact that I also work at this company, I also stand to lose everything, and if the public decides to shred someone, it won’t be any of you, it will be me. I love him, I know the risks, and I am not giving him up. Is that enough for you or not?” 

Mingi takes in your words for a beat and then he smiles widely and raises his hand, “Let’s do this,” 

“Just like that?” Your eyes widen.

You expected more of a fight from him, but at Yunho’s relieved exhale you know he’s on board. 

“Yep,” Mingi nods and then looks up to Yunho, “I always knew I like her,” 

“I’m standing right here,” You cross your arms. 

“Pick your battles, baby,” Yunho wraps his arms around you from behind and gives you a squeeze. Taking a deep breath, he looks up to his members, “I,” he clears his throat, “I’ll never be able to thank you all for this,” 

Hongjoong brushes that off, “We’re a team. It doesn’t work without all eight.”

“Still,” Yunho presses, “thank you.” 

Hongjoong nods once, “No  more lies now,” he adds, “if we’re in this together, we’re in it.” 

You nod and so does Yunho. 

“If you’re seeing each other, one of us needs to know and we need a better cover than ‘he’s out’,” He continues. 

“So contracts first?” San asks, “If we don’t know how they’ll take their bonding, it’s a wild card for negotiations.” 

Everyone considers that point and Yunho nods, “It’s not odd for us to want to renegotiate early, and removing dating bans is standard for moving off rookie contracts, if we’re all in that together it wouldn’t throw any flags.” 

Hongjoong considers it and then nods, “Friday after practice, we’ll meet at your apartment. We’ll put the plan together then in detail and decide what and how we want to negotiate. What we’re willing to give, what we’re not.” 

Everyone nods. “If we can make some decisions, we can consult outside counsel and we can start meetings with leadership in the next few weeks. There’s no telling how long that process will take, but until then,” He looks to you both, “be additionally cautious.” 

“Of course,” You nod. 

“We’ll tell them about us when it makes sense to do that with negotiations,” Yunho agrees, “we’ll take their temperature first, and then come clean. We need to see what we can do to insulate y/n’s position here, and I’d rather have that conversation with the CEO directly while we have a good relationship,” 

“Agreed,” Hongjoong says. 

There’s a collective feeling of relief in the room, the air slowly let out of the balloon of tension, and then Wooyoung cracks through the silence with a laugh, “Holy shit,” he smiles, “one of us is bonded.” 

Yunho smiles, his chest swelling with pride behind you, “I know,” 

“It would be you,” Seonghwa laughs. 

Yunho rolls his eyes and you look at Seonghwa with a little confusion. 

“We used to call him cathedral boy,” San says wryly. 

You laugh and Yunho wraps his arms around you more tightly. 

Hongjoong smiles, really smiles for the first time since you got here and nods, “Alright, alright,” he checks his phone, “we have a schedule in less than five hours, let’s get home.” 

Jongho nods, pulling on his beanie, “You know,” he says, “if we renegotiate now, maybe we’ll actually start getting paid,” 

“That’s the idea,” Mingi huffs a laugh and everyone follows behind.

Yunho’s shoulders drop, the final bit of anxiety leaving him.  

After that, the room starts to break up, everyone finding their jackets, but one by one, each of them gives you and Yunho a moment; a warm expression, a hand on the shoulder, a few words of congratulations. The anger you felt when you first walked in the room is gone entirely, and all that’s left is pure relief. 

Yunho drops his lips to your head and sighs heavily, warm air tickling your scalp, “Well,” he murmurs, “we did it,” 

You rest your hand over his and gently stroke his skin, “Are you okay?” 

He nods, “Yeah,” 

You feel the swirling emotions in him - relief, pride, hope, elation. For the first time since finding out you were fated for each other, the obstacles in front of you don’t seem so impossible to overcome. 

Mingi and Yeosang are the last in the room with you both, and quietly you untangle yourself from Yunho until the four of you are in a loose square in the middle of the practice room. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Mingi says, clearing his throat, “I was a dick.” 

Yunho shakes his head, “You’re good, I deserved it.” 

You glance between them, but Yeosang smiles a little and interjects, “You two look happy together, we can’t deny that,” 

You smile too, nodding and finding yourself once again caught by Yunho’s warm expression as he looks down at you. 

“Go on,” Mingi sighs, “take her home, we’ll cover for you tonight.” 

“But,” Yunho’s head snaps back up to his friends. 

“I’ll bring you a change of clothes to the office,” Yeosang says, “you couldn’t sleep and went for an early morning run, right?” 

Yunho nods, “Right,” 

“Don’t be late,” Mingi claps his best friend on the shoulder, “now go get some sleep, you look tired as hell.” 

Yunho snorts, “Thanks, man,” 

“Yep,” Mingi pulls a beanie over his hair and nods to you, “take care of him.” 

Warmth blossoms in your chest, “I will.” 

Mingi nods again, as if to say he knows you will, and then he and Yeosang are gone, leaving you both alone in the mirrored room. 

There’s nothing to say, not right now, but you fold into each other tenderly. After months of lies and panic and anxiety, you have your answers to so many questions. Yunho kisses you softly, wraps you up in his coat, and takes you home, right where you’re both supposed to be.

[motthe]

hiii !! just read like ,, a BUNCH of ur lumen au stuff ,,,, truly i am brainrotted now because i'm just thinking of so many different scenarios involving the lumens and i am just . EXCITED !!! its SUCHHHH a good concept im a big big sucker for soulmate stuff ,,,,

i was just wondering how you feel about jayvik x reader ,,,, TWO lumens ,,,,,,,, idk if you write for anything poly or not, but id love to hear your thoughts on it !!! either through headcanons or a ficlet, whichever you feel like :]

my first viktor x reader x jayce piece i’ve ever written… wait is this my first poly drabble?? it might be actually! i hope it’s fun to read ♥️

warnings: fem!reader, slight negative feelings of not being good enough, but overall fluff!!!

The scientific jargon that came with having not one but both of your fated being inventors was overwhelming. The words they tossed around became an entire other language since you’d all gotten closer. It left you feeling unbearably empty-headed, wondering why the universe would bond you to such intelligent men.

They were already changing an entire city with their ideas, and you would bet the world would soon bear their mark as well. In comparison, you were a meager artist making ends meet at festivals and street corners. Sure, maybe your work could be seen on a few shop signs or covering a wall or two in a cafe, but that was as famous as you’d ever be—a stranger to the passing eye.

“We need to widen the cylindrical chamber, maybe add an exhaust pipe to help with the cooldown.”

Jayce’s voice slipped through your head, smooth and confident and making no sense. You’d gotten rather good and tuning out the meat of the conversations, only recognizing the tones and emotions.

The heavy, warm accent of Viktor’s replied, swirling in the back of your mind as your pencil swiped over the heavy parchment against your thighs.

Recently, they’d begun inviting you to their lab to spend your free time in their company. There were two desks to choose from, though they were usually piled high with blueprints or notes. Jayce had moved a couch into the space for your comfort, placed in the corner and under a window, well away from any dangerous work they had their hands on, though they usually took anything too precarious into another portion of the building.

Their assistant, Sky, was in and out, always double-checking if you needed anything. She was a kind young woman, curly hair and glasses and a smile that made anyone feel at home. She brought you your own coffee and snacks, promising it was no trouble since she was already bringing them to Viktor and Jayce, anyway.

“You actually eat them,” she chuckled. “Jayce will if he notices they’re there, but it’s a long shot most days.”

You understood what she meant, seeing how focused the men became on their gadgets and studies. You’re sure if you got up and left they wouldn’t notice for a good, long while.

Today was one of those days, though there was peace in your private little corner as you sketched away. You squinted over the top of your sketchbook, skimming the outline of Viktor’s goggles pressed into his thick, winding hair and quickly adding the little licks of tresses to the paper before he was moving again.

You switched targets, taking in Jayce’s side profile and adding a bit more depth to his eyebrow and under eye.

Taking a moment to look between both drawings, you were hit with their beauty once more.

Jayce was deemed the academy’s “pretty boy,” with his strong jaw and perfect smile. He was a clean cut handsome, peak health and built with broad shoulders. He knew how to use those looks to his advantage.

On the other end was Viktor. He was a haunting beauty, sleek and angular. If he had the same charisma with speaking to the masses as Jayce did, that accent would gain him more than a fair share of admirers, but his confidence and skills lied elsewhere. He had a sharp eye and wore his emotions rather loudly on his face.

Where Jayce had faint lines from how much he smiled, Viktor had a feather soft crease between his brows from how often he furrowed them. Where the golden boy’s hands were always warm, his partner’s was cold. They made such gorgeous opposites, yet they held so many comparisons in mannerisms when it came to their shared hobbies and passions.

It was safe to say you adored them and their intricacies.

Taking a slow, deep breath you checked both shoulders before moving the tuft of black in your periphery into your hand. Gold shimmered between the dark mass that made up Jayce’s lumen, settling deeper into your palm as you raised your arms and stretched.

When you moved your drawing pad to the side, you spotted Viktor’s wedged between the apex of your thighs. Swallowing your gasp, you scooped it up, praying it hadn’t been smushed the entire time.

“When did you get there?” you whispered, rubbing your pointer finger into the tawny fuzz of his light. His lumen had always had a bit more give to it, leaving it to wedge itself under your leg or your shirt collar. Viktor’s preferred to be as close as possible to you, even if it left his lumen squished.

Jayce’s lumen was firmer, still soft but in a velveteen sort of sensation. It was bigger, taking up a good portion of your palm. Now your second month with it, you’d learned if it wasn’t on one of your shoulders, it was likely circling your head. His never went far either.

You wondered if you’d received Jayce’s lumen first, if it would have more of an attachment to you. As it stood, you’d had Viktor’s since you were young while he’d held Jayce’s and Jayce yours. The three of you being tied together had become quite the story as there went many outward poly fateds in Piltover, but luckily the gawking had passed after the first handful of weeks.

It was only a few days ago that Viktor confessed he’d been rather confused when he’d met Jayce and the lumens had flashed against one another.

“There were no similarities,” he’d explained, holding up one long, thin finger for your lumen to rest on as it hovered in front of him. The three of you were cozied up in your lackluster apartment—a studio more than a bedroom but it had a nice pullout couch and plenty of blankets to rest on in front of your heater. “Jayce was ecstatic, of course, but I was ruminating over your lumen when we first met.”

“I thought he hated me,” Jayce had murmured, breath warm against your ear as you laughed.

“I did not hate you,” huffed Viktor on your other side, rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand, your lumen resting within. “I wasn’t aware we had a third, yet—it was puzzling.”

“I had to explain it to him,” Jayce chuckled. “One of my old friends was in a poly.”

“And, then, he was even more ecstatic,” Viktor sighed but there was affection in it. “I thought you’d follow him home some nights.”

“And leave you all by yourself?” You laid your head on his shoulder, grinning as his eyes fled. It was still so early into the relationship, and he grew flustered with physical affection whereas Jayce sought it every chance. “I’d never.”

“It’s better now, we’re all together,” Jayce hummed, lowering to lay his head in your lap. You brushed your hand through his hair, smiling as his lumen lit up in Viktor’s lap.

“Yes,” Viktor had agreed, careful as he laid his head against yours. “It all feels…complete.”

Your chest warmed at the memory as you held both of their lumens in your hands, giving a fleeting kiss to each. Viktor’s snuggled happily into your palm while Jayce’s pulsed a happy gold before flying off, likely to check in with Viktor.

As your eyes lifted to follow its journey, you jumped when you found Jayce smiling from a few feet away by his desk. He seemed to be shuffling through some papers. Your lumen floated just nice his head, twinkling in the sunlight that shone through the windows behind you.

“Didn’t see you there,” you said, stretching your legs out before standing. Viktor’s lumen left your hand, keeping close to your neck.

“I hope you’re not bored.” He opened an arm up and you approached. You still grew giddy with any chance to be wrapped in his embrace, quick to accept the invitation.

“I like spending time here with you both,” you assured, giggling as he bent down to kiss your forehead. “Gives me plenty of practice.”

His eyes lit up, one of those dark eyebrows lifting. “Oh?”

“I know what you’re about to ask—”

“Please?” His arm wrapped tighter around your waist. “I wanna see.”

“They’re just rough sketches!” you laughed, pushing against his chest.

“C’mon, I bet they’re great! I’m sure Viktor wants to see them, too.”

You shook your head, a mess of giggles as he wrapped both arms around you and slowly edged his way towards the couch.

“Did someone call my name?” asked Viktor, turning from the machine he was working on. A torch was in his hand but luckily still off for the time being. Jayce’s lumen was sitting on his knee.

“Viktor tell her you want to see her art!” Jayce goaded.

“Tell him he needs to wait for a real piece,” you threw back, wrinkling your nose at him as he stuck his tongue out.

“You’ve been drawing us?” Viktor’s voice seeped with awe and innocent curiosity. “May we see?”

Jayce bounced his eyebrows at you, all too smug. “Told you.”

“Fine—fine!” you sighed, throwing your hands up and wiggling out of his hold as you went to grab your canvas notebook. “Don’t gripe when you see your half-finished faces.”

The tap of Viktor’s crutch intermingled with Jayce’s footsteps as they met you by the couch. As you handed over your work, Viktor was the one to accept it as Jace stood over him. Both their eyes went wide at the current page and your hand went straight to your arm as you shuffled in place.

“Those are just warmups, so…”

“Warmups?” Jayce breathed, looking up from the notebook. “These are amazing!”

“I have to agree, the detail is astounding,” Viktor hummed, looking to turn back a page. He caught your eyes before he did. “Is this all right? Tell us if we’re overstepping.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m used to people watching me draw on the street, it’s just… I don’t know.” You shrugged, bringing a hand up as Viktor’s lumen rubbed against your neck. Jayce’s was just settling on your shoulder again. “I care about what you guys think. It’s not anything big like you do, but…”

“Big?” Jayce echoed, both of their sights set on you.

“Well, it’s not as important as what you both do is what I mean.”

“Of course it’s important,” Viktor argued, expression stern.

“But it’s art!” you laughed, waving off the sudden seriousness growing from them. “It’s helping a bunch of people like your creations do. That’s much more important.”

“Art is just as, if not more, important,” he continued, passing the notebook to Jayce. “We are helping people in different ways, but do not do yourself the disservice and think what you create is anything less than what we do.”

“He’s right,” Jayce agreed, holding up your work. “This? This speaks to people. Your work can bring life to a room and lets people save a special moment in time.”

“Okay, don’t butter me up so much or I’ll melt!” you squeaked, too embarrassed to look at them as they chuckled and continued flipping through your sketches. It wasn’t long before the three of you were on the couch, both of them pointing out their favorites.

“Is my hair truly that messy?” Viktor grumbled, raising a hand to it. “Perhaps I should cut it.”

“No, I like it,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “You twirl it when you’re thinking! It’s so sweet.”

He blinked at you. “I do?”

Jayce whistled and you turned and gasped, completely forgetting the drawing you’d done of him in the forge. It was more from memory so your imagination had left it a bit more detailed than the rest.

“Okay, that’s enough!”

You swiped for the book, shutting it as Jayce laughed. Viktor rolled his eyes, smirking as he nudged your shoulder.

“Should I be worried of any scandalous pieces of me in there?”

You pouted, holding the notebook tighter to your chest.

“Oh?” Jayce breathed. “She didn’t say no!”

“You two are the worst!” you groaned, unable to help yourself from smiling as they both laughed in tandem.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Eleven.

previous chapter (10). series masterlist. the playlist.

chapter synopsis - There’s no denying it anymore - not that you’d want to. You and Bucky fit together in every sense of the word.

pairing - dads bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. harassment, and then conversations surrounding past incidents of harassment. bucky calls reader a whore (not viciously).

word count - 5.3k

authors note - this is a long one!! I got a bit carried away with the smut, but honestly… it was a little overdue. I needed bucky and honey to get a little down and dirty sometime soon, and there’s no time like the present. as always - your love and support is invaluable to me, and i’d be nowhere without it. love you <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

masterlist. inbox.

Your hips sway gently to the music that plays as you watch your own reflection in the mirror. Sweeping a makeup brush across your cheeks, you laugh as Bucky presses open mouthed kisses to your bare shoulder.

“Getting ready takes ten times longer when you’re here, you know.”

Your soulmate laughs, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling your back into his chest as he sways with you.

“You love it,” he murmurs into your ear. “You got a lifetime of this, honey. Get used to it.”

“God help me,” you giggle, squealing as he pinches your side. “I’m never going to get anywhere on time ever again, am I?”

“Worth it though.”

He winks at you in the mirror, and you can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. Spinning in his arms, you lean up to press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Luckily for you, Lacie is the worst person at being on time. I actually don’t think she’s been punctual to anything, ever. You have to tell her six if you want her to be there at eight.”

“I like her more every time you tell another story.”

“I feel like I should warn you.”

“Uh oh.”

You fight back the smile threatening to take over your face.

“She means well. She’s got a heart of gold, and good intentions always. She’s just… blunt, sometimes. She doesn’t mess around, or avoid the tough conversations. She’ll always tell you exactly how it is. And sometimes that can come across as rudeness, or that she’s a little… prickly? But she’s not, I promise.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I get it. And I trust your judgement, always. You’re a good judge of character - I’ve never doubted that. She loves you and she wants to protect you, and so do I. I think you’ll find we have a lot more in common than you think.”

“I hope so. This is kind of a huge deal for me. And the more I think about it, the more worried I get.”

“Worried about what, honey?”

Bucky leans back against your dresser, using his hands on your hips to keep you against his front. You tilt into his body, resting your head on his chest.

“That you won’t like each other, or something. Which is stupid, I know. But the two of you mean so much to me, and I can’t lose either of you, and I just…”

“You’re spiralling.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Yeah.”

“We’re gonna have a fun night, okay? If you put too much pressure on it, it’ll crumble under its own weight. Just breathe, baby. It’s dinner and drinks. Nothing you haven’t done before.”

“Dinner and drinks.”

“Exactly. Thankfully, actually, because I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“You know me so well.”

He chuckles as he leans down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It ruins what was left of your lip gloss, but you don’t mind.

“It’s us against the world, remember? That includes double dates.”

You shake your head, scoffing as you break away to pull your shoes onto your feet. Taking a step back, you check your reflection in the mirror, not missing the way Bucky’s eyes follow the shape of your body all the way down and back up again.

“Quit that.”

“Quit what?”

“That, Barnes.”

“What, honey girl?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

You grab your purse and your jacket, giving him a once over to make sure he’s ready.

“We need to go. We actually should have left about ten minutes ago, but someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“You want an encore?”

He lurches forward, fingers digging into your sides as you thrash in his hold. Your knees buckle as the tickling continues, punching at his biceps to get him to stop. You finally break away, panting as you keep him at arms length.

“Pull that shit again and I will kill you, James. You hear me?”

“I’m so scared,” he jokes, laughing infectiously.

You grin as you push him out of the door, shaking your head as you do it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The restaurant Lacie has picked is perfect.

It’s a place the two of you have been to many times - intimate but not too quiet. It’s all candlelight and real wood and big, open windows. You can hear the sound of chatter and laughter from down the street, warm and inviting.

A wave of nostalgia overcomes you as you stand on the sidewalk and wait for your best friend. You spent your 21st birthday here with Lacie, getting drunk on sweet cherry cocktails and dipping pieces of fresh bread in olive oil to soak up the alcohol. The entire night consisted of giggling and gossiping, until you’d wobbled home in your high heels, hands tightly clasped together just like when you were kids. You both fell asleep tangled in Lacie’s pink ruffled bedsheets, cuddled up and wearing your old matching Looney Tunes pyjamas.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” Bucky asks, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Just thinking about all the nights me and Lacie have spent here. We’d always order the Cocktail of the Day, no matter what it was. Sometimes it was the best thing we’d ever drank, sometimes it was so vile we’d down it in one to get it over with.”

He laughs all deep and hearty, the sound vibrating through you where you’re pressed into his side. You’re looking down the street when you hear a shout from the opposite direction.

“Is that my bestie and her soulmate I see? Looking hot as ever?”

“Yeah, baby!”

You start walking towards her voice, grinning as you go. She holds out her arms, bracing herself when you run into them.

Lacie hugs you like she hasn’t seen you in years - and honestly, it kind of feels like it. She squeezes you as tightly as she can, cutting off your oxygen supply. You don’t mind one bit, squeezing her back just as tightly.

You hook your chin over her shoulder to see Bucky and Cameron shaking each other’s hands, going through first meeting formalities. Breaking away from Lacie, you pull her soulmate into a friendly hug that he reciprocates eagerly.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” he smiles, linking his hand with Lacie’s as if he’s scared to be apart from her for too long.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” you repeat, leaning into the warmth of Bucky’s hand on the small of your back.

“It’s true, she has. Probably too much,” Lacie laughs, guiding you all to the hostess at the front door.

You’re seated outside, on the terrace with a gorgeous view of the coastline. It’s breezy but not windy, warm but not hot. It’s perfect. The sun is starting to begin its slow descent, and the orange glow lights up Bucky like he’s a heavenly being, some sort of celestial creature. It’s hard to read the drinks menu when all you want to do is stare at your soulmate for hours on end.

“Babe… shall we get a cocktail of the day?”

“You remembered!”

“Of course I did,” your best friend giggles, kicking your shin under the table. “Remember that one that was full of rose petals, and we kept accidentally eating them?”

“Or the one with the sour sugar on the rim? Must have been the most sour thing I’ve ever tried.”

“This isn’t filling me with hope,” Cameron chuckles, setting down his menu to put his trust in Lacie anyway.

The waitress brings over four pink cocktails in rocks glasses, popping straws in them when she reaches the table.

“Cherry and lemon,” she informs you. “It’s delicious.”

She’s right. It’s definitely one of the, if not the best cocktail you’ve ever had in this place - a million times better than the rose petal one. When you’ve all ordered your food, conversation turns to the elephant in the room. Soulmates.

“So you guys were strangers, right?” Bucky asks the two people across from you.

They both instantly light up, ecstatic to be able to tell their story.

“Complete strangers. We’d never met each other in our lives. I walked into the gym as usual, and there he was. All gorgeous and tanned and tattooed and muscled.”

They interlink their fingers, beaming at each other.

“I could see it all instantly,” Cameron takes over. “Living together, marriage, kids, the rest of our lives. It was like a vision, this prediction of what’s to come on a big screen in my mind.”

He leans in to kiss Lacie, all tender and so full of love. Anyone within a fifty mile radius can feel their connection.

“So, Lacie said you guys already knew each other?”

You knew this line of questioning would happen sooner or later, but you didn’t realise just how nervous it’d make you feel. Bucky senses your anxiety instantly, wrapping his fingers around yours under the table. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the back of your hand, the familiar and comforting motion calming you down easily.

“Uh, yeah. We’d known each other for a few years. He’s my dad’s best friend.”

“Oh, shit. I mean Lacie explained back when you told her, but that’s so… complicated. How did your parents take it?”

“We… don’t know,” Bucky explains. “We haven’t exactly had that conversation yet.”

“But you guys have been soulmates for like two years, right?”

“It’s been complicated, like you said,” you pick up. “I wasn’t home for a lot of it, I was back in California for work. And we tried to tell them, but my Dad got sick, and then it turns out that they actually already knew. So, maybe in hindsight, complicated is actually an understatement.”

Lacie laughs with nothing but love in her eyes, stepping on your foot affectionately in a gesture of solidarity.

“Told you they were complex, Cam.”

“A lot more complex than us, lovebug,” he chuckles.

“You hear that, baby?” Bucky leans over to whisper in your ear. “We’re complex.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper back, turning your head to press a kiss into his jaw.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The food is divine.

It’s all small plates, Mediterranean inspired and delicious. Seafood, charred vegetables, beautiful mixes of herbs spices with everything doused in olive oil and balsamic.

“Holy shit. I don’t think I can eat for a week after this.”

“You gonna have to unbuckle that designer belt of yours, Cameron?”

You’re met with a cacophony of laughter and shaking heads.

“I like her,” he tells Lacie with a smile. “I see why you two work.”

“Aha, I’ve earned the Cameron seal of approval! Hear that, Lace? He likes me.”

“Oh god. My bestie and my soulmate are gonna be friends. There are so many embarrassing stories that are going to be shared, aren’t there?”

“So many,” you and Cameron say in unison.

Lacie’s shaking her head but she can’t stop laughing, buzzed off of the speciality cocktails and the joy of having her favourite people get along.

“Okay, okay, before we get into that,” she intervenes, “we’re having brunch with my sisters and their soulmates tomorrow. So I hate to be a buzzkill… but I’m gonna have to cut this short, before we pass the point of hungover beyond return.”

“Say hi to them for me, won’t you? I haven’t seen them in so long.”

“Laura’s getting married in a few months - I’ll make sure you two get an invite. They’d love to see you again soon, they both ask about you all the time.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You say your goodbyes, hugs and promises to see each other as soon as possible exchanged with love and excitement.

“I’m moving into Cameron’s place finally, and I’m gonna need your help decorating, babe. Will you come shopping with me sometime this week? I trust your taste.”

“Of course, Lace. I’d love to. Just text me, and we’ll arrange something.”

She presses a lipgloss stained kiss to your cheek, smelling like strawberries and giggles from your childhood.

“Bye, you two! So lovely to see you again, Bucky.”

“You too, Lacie. Good to see you guys, and good to finally meet you, Cam.”

“Cam,” Lacie whispers to you. “They’re besties already.”

You can’t help but laugh, waving them off with Bucky’s hand entangled with yours. After they’ve gone, you both sit back down at the table, exhaling.

“See? Wasn’t as bad as you thought, right?”

“I never thought it’d be bad,” you tease. “Just thought it’d be… intense. Which it was, but in a good way, I think.”

“You wanna have a drink just the two of us? Then we can go home, get into our pyjamas, rewatch an episode or two of Twin Peaks.”

“Sounds perfect,” you assure, standing up to press a quick kiss to his cheek before getting ready to make your way to the bar. “The usual, my love?”

“Surprise me, honey.”

You saunter inside, leaving Bucky sitting pretty on the balcony. The breeze gently blows the linen of his shirt, billowing the material and making him look like an angel.

“Can I get two old fashioneds when you get the chance? Thank you.”

The bartender nods her head at you, giving you a gentle smile before turning away to make your drinks. You take a seat on a stool, resting your feet in your heels for a moment.

“Excuse me?”

A pause.

“Excuse me, miss?”

A man slides into the stool next to you, tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were talking to me.”

“I don’t usually do this, but I saw you across the room and just had to tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You spin around in your place to get a good look at the man who’s speaking. He’s only got a few inches of height on you, but he’s built stocky and strong, with a certain glimmer in his eyes that leaves a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Uh, thank you. That’s kind.”

You try to spin back around, but a clammy hand wraps itself around your forearm, effectively stopping you.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry, sweet thing. Just wanted to talk a little more.”

His voice is dripping with condescension, terribly masking venom and ill intent. The whole situation feels tense and too charged, and you’re desperate to find a way out without upsetting him. You look over to the bartender, trying to catch her attention.

“So you’re here by yourself? Pretty girl like you, you shouldn’t be alone. You don’t know who’s around.”

Your heartbeat picks up, hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. You’re screaming to Bucky in your mind, begging for him to sense your unease as soon as possible. This man still has a grip on your arm, his other hand moving to rest on your thigh. A cold chill overcomes you, and you know it isn’t from the ocean breeze.

“I’m here with my boyfriend,” you choke out. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Really?” he asks, squeezing his grip tighter. “Where?”

“Right here.”

A familiar voice booms from behind you, rumbling through your bones. You exhale shakily, desperate to turn around but unable to.

“This your daddy, sweet thing?”

“He’s my boyfriend, actually.”

Your voice is shaking, and Bucky hates how vulnerable you sound. You feel the sharp pang of sadness stab through his chest momentarily.

“Take your hands off the lady, asshole. Now.”

When the man doesn’t move, Bucky steps in, plastering himself to your back.

“I won’t ask again,” he reiterates, tone deep and low.

The man seems to get the message, judging by the way he slowly backs away from you. The minute he’s far enough away, Bucky slips a hand under your hair to hold the back of your neck, pulling you into his body. You melt into him, resting your head on his chest and breathing him in.

“Oh, your old fashioneds! I’ll start them now. Sorry!” you hear from behind the bar.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Bucky says over your head to the bartender. “We’re gonna get going.”

You assume she nods, because Bucky pulls you gently off your stool, leading you towards the door.

“Come on, angel,” he murmurs into your temple. “Let’s go home.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky’s hand doesn’t leave yours the entire way back to his house.

You both spend more time at your place than you do at his, so it makes a nice change. You love being here, because it is so completely enveloped by Bucky.

You see him everywhere. His favourite soft grey blanket strewn across the back of the couch, his handmade green mug that you bought him in California left ready on the counter by the coffee machine, the weathered and worn blue plaid pyjama pants he loves folded on the bed.

You hear him everywhere. The trees that he planted in the backyard rustling in the breeze, the soft hum of the refrigerator that he fixed himself six months ago, the reruns of vintage shows that play on the TV when he knows you need some background noise.

You smell him everywhere. The lingering scent of his cologne on every surface, his favourite laundry detergent that clings to his comforter even after he’s slept in it time and time again, the salt from the breeze that billows through the house when he leaves the windows open.

You feel him everywhere. The indent of where his head has laid on his pillows, the fingerprint shaped divots in the arm of the couch where he rests his hand as he watches a movie, the light switch in the hallway that has worn away due to him always pressing it with his elbow when he walks through the front door.

He’s in all four corners of this house, plastered all over it north, south, east and west. His very being lives in the walls, the floors, the ceilings. His spirit has cemented itself into the foundations, down through the Earth that it’s built on.

You couldn’t love it more if you tried.

And now, you see glimpses of you. Your toothbrush and shampoo in the bathroom, your mug waiting ready at the coffee machine, the smear of nail polish you accidentally spilled on the coffee table one evening that won’t quite come off. Your pyjamas folded next to his on the bed, your shoes next to his at the door, your socks next to his in the top drawer.

Neither of your places are yours or his, now. They belong to the two of you. You refer to my apartment as our apartment. He refers to his house as our house. You’re not sure when it began, but it’s happening more and more as of late. It makes you happy beyond words.

Your place, his place… doesn’t matter. Home is wherever you’re together.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky kneels in front of you where you sit on the edge of the bed, unbuckling your heels. He digs his thumbs into the bottom of your feet, releasing some of the tension firmly but carefully.

“You sure you’re okay, honey?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m okay.”

You look down at him, caressing his stubbled cheek gently. He looks back up at you with those big blue eyes blown wide, so full of concern you can practically feel it buzzing around the room.

“If you wanna talk about it…”

“I know. I can talk to you about anything, baby. And I will, when I need to. Look… it was scary in the moment. But I also knew that you were on the terrace outside, and that you’d come and get me eventually. Plus, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

He takes a pause, still working his thumb into your soles.

“You deal with this stuff a lot?” he asks after a moment.

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. All girls do. You know that.”

“I do. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s different, when it’s the person you love the most in the world.”

“I get that. It’s not different for us, though.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, my love,” you whisper, tracing your fingertips across the features of his face. “You came along and saved me, so.”

“I would have come sooner, you know. I felt it in my chest pretty quick, but got stuck talking to a client of mine. I was inching away for so long before I had to just tell him to leave me alone.”

“It’s okay, we’re all okay. I don’t wanna focus on it. It’s done now.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to me anytime if you need to, though?”

“Promise,” you reassure, linking your pinky finger with his.

You both sit like that for a while, just thinking. You’re still tracing his face, following the beautiful lines and curves as if it’s a colouring book. Focusing on the warmth of his hands on you, you can’t help but let your mind wander to how he handled the guy at the bar. You’ve never seen him so assertive, almost threatening. And the more you think about it, the more you realise - you liked it. Obviously, the situation was unpleasant and far from ideal, but when you hone in on the way your soulmate swooped in to save you…

“What are you thinking about, pretty?” he asks, noticing the way your eyes have clouded over.

“Just the way you looked in that bar. All strong and domineering and in charge.”

“Yeah?”

There’s a dirty smirk making his way onto his handsome face, all mischievous and cunning.

“Yeah. You walked in and saved me like it was nothing. I felt so safe, with the hottest guy in the world protecting me.”

You dance your fingertips across Bucky’s face, tracing his bottom lip.

“I could have killed him,” he murmurs, nipping at the pad of your thumb. “Touching what’s mine.”

Oh. You’ve never heard him speak about you like this, but you’re glad you’re already sitting down - otherwise you’d be melting into a puddle on the ground.

“Mhmm? Yours?”

“You know you’re mine, angel. I have no doubts about that.”

The juxtaposition of it all is making your head spin. Bucky is knelt below you, looking up at you with his ocean blue eyes, but he’s still the one in charge. He’s the one making your knees buckle while his are digging into the carpet.

“I am yours,” you whisper.

“I know.”

His confidence is killing you. There’s sweat dripping down your back already, a bead of it slowly trickling down the curves of your spine. Your chest heaves as you refuse to break eye contact, desperately anticipating his next move.

“You like me like this, don’t you, honey? Sat at your feet, watching you, ready to do whatever you want. Do you even know how much power you hold? Do you even understand the things I would do for you?”

You might pass out if he keeps talking like this. To shut him up, you shove your thumb into his mouth, groaning when he laves over it with his tongue.

“I’ll give you anything,” he mumbles around your digit. “Just say the words.”

“Want you to fuck me,” you choke out.

“How?”

You press down on his tongue for a minute, taking a sick satisfaction in how his eyes water. There’s spit dripping down his chin and your wrist. It’s depraved. You want more.

“Like I’m yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Prove it. Show me. Make sure I don’t forget it.”

He bites down on your thumb before slipping it out of his mouth, licking a stripe from the bottom of it to the top.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You don’t know what you’ve just asked for.”

He rises suddenly, pulling you off the bed by your arms so you’re standing in front of him. He takes your place at the edge of the mattress, and you realise that you never had the advantage you thought you did.

“Strip.”

You raise a brow at him, and the stormy look you receive in response makes you shut your mouth.

“I won’t ask again, angel. Strip.”

You go to reach for your hem when a hand darts out and catches yours.

“Ah ah ah. What’s the rush? Put on a show for me, baby. Come on.”

You slow right down, carefully undoing the zipper on your dress before gently pulling it up to underneath your chest. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s breath hitches at the sight of what you’ve had on underneath your outfit all night. You pull it up and over your head softly, standing in front of him in your lacy black underwear that you’ve been waiting to debut.

“Fuck, honey girl. Is that new?”

You only nod before stepping forward to stand in between his legs, smiling when his hands fly straight out to rest on your hips.

“You still want me to strip? Or shall I keep this on, let you enjoy it a little longer?”

“Keep it on,” he mumbles against your stomach, pressing kisses to any skin he can reach. “Wanna fuck you in it.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Everywhere.”

You laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his quickly.

“Come sit here,” he decides, patting his thighs.

You go to oblige but stop, pouting at Bucky where he looks up at you.

“What is it, baby?”

“This feels unfair,” you point at him. “You’re wearing all your clothes.”

“Which is the way it’ll stay, until I decide otherwise.”

With that he pulls you down into his lap, manoeuvring you so you’re sat with your legs spread apart by his, back pressed to his chest. You look straight ahead to see yourself in the full length mirror, with Bucky’s self satisfied expression behind you.

“Want you to see what I see,” he explains, running his fingers across your thighs in a featherlight touch. “You should see how pretty you look when you come.”

He cups you over your underwear, both of you groaning in unison.

“This is all for me? All mine?”

All you can do is nod, not trusting your voice anymore. Bucky hooks your panties to the side and runs a finger through your wetness, smothering it around and making a mess on purpose.

“I love you like this,” he murmurs into your ear. “All messy and careless and desperate for me. You’d do anything I asked. So good for me.”

He slides a finger into you, pulling it out swiftly and adding a second. There’s no resistance, only your warm, wet heat sucking him straight back in. You buck your hips, trying to get him to curl them how you like.

“Please,” you whine, squirming in his lap. “Please, Buck.”

He knows exactly what you need, crooking his fingers to hit that spot just right. He can play you like an instrument, plucking at your strings until you’re teetering on the edge in no time.

“Wait,” you plead, gripping his wrist. “Don’t wanna come yet.”

Bucky slows his movements to a halt, kissing your neck and catching your eyes in the mirror.

“No, baby? Why?”

You grab his hand and remove his fingers from you, sucking them into your mouth without breaking eye contact with him. When you’ve licked them clean, you lean back to murmur into his jaw.

“I wanna come on your cock.”

With a gentle kiss to his jaw, you add ever so politely,

“Please.”

Bucky’s never been one to deny you anything, and he’s not about to start now.

“Fuck, look at you. I’ve turned you into a whore.”

“You love it.”

He chuckles all deep and low, the sound rumbling through your body. Pushing you off his lap, you’re confused for a moment before he starts undressing, putting on a show of his own for you.

“C’mere,” he says finally, now fully naked and sat back in his original spot at the edge of the mattress. “Come and watch how pretty you look when you’re sitting on my cock.”

You settle back where you were, legs spread wide by his thick thighs. One of his arms is wrapped around your middle, keeping you firmly plastered to his chest as his other hand lands at the base of your throat.

“Okay, baby. S’all yours. Take what you need.”

His arrogance is doing nothing to soothe the ache between your legs, your arousal dripping through your pretty lace underwear. It’s ruined, but you couldn’t care less.

Lining him up and sinking down, you both groan at the sensation. He fills you up perfectly, almost as if you were made for each other. When you realise you were, your legs go jelly.

“Atta girl. Use me, baby. Fuck yourself, that’s it.”

You use his thighs as leverage, rising up onto your tiptoes to slam back down. Finding a steady rhythm, you feel a funny sense of pride at doing it yourself, at being the one to take you both apart.

Bucky’s praise doesn’t stop, the timbre of his voice in your ear like melted honey, all warm and golden. He presses kisses into your shoulders, your neck, your back, anywhere he can reach. When he can tell you’re getting tired, he starts canting his hips upwards when you come down. He knows he’s hit the right spot when you half collapse backwards into him, whining. His hands tighten their grip on your hip and your throat, keeping you upright.

Your soulmate directs your head back towards the mirror, forcing you to look at your fucked out reflection.

“Look at you,” he hums. “You look wrecked, baby. Such a fucking mess.”

“For you,” you slur, still willing your legs to do the work.

You’re so close you can taste it, and Bucky knows this. His hand that was on your hip migrates to between your legs, where he rubs slow but firm circles on your clit. Your knees buckle, and he knows you’re done for.

“Look at yourself,” he demands, keeping your head up with his grip on you. “Look how fucking pretty you look when you come.”

You watch yourself - the way your jaw drops open and your muscles tighten, back arching up and away. You then shift your gaze to Bucky’s reflection just in time to watch him finish. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen - his teeth sunken into your shoulder, sweat dripping down his chest, eyes blown so wide you can’t tell they’re blue anymore.

The two of you sit like that for a while, still connected in every sense of the word. You’re trying to catch your breath, every bone in your body completely relaxed. Bucky’s arms circle your middle, ensuring every inch of his skin is pressed to yours.

“Told you,” he mumbles into your jaw. “Prettiest sight in the fucking world, honey girl.”

You tilt your head up to look at the two of you, the way you fit together so perfectly.

Yeah, you think. Prettiest sight in the world.

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[augustjoy]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 3

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1 Part 2 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 2583

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, mention of post-partum depression, mention of child endangerment, mention of child death, mention of murder, mention of suicide, mention of foster care, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story

I miss you so fucking much. How could you think so little of me. I’m sorry. You just don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t even know me. We’re soulmates, of course I know you. Our thoughts weren’t shared until we were both teenagers, you know nothing about how I was brought up. Can I see you? Please.

Thoughts between soulmates were shared more frequently when experiencing high levels of stress, primarily during long periods of separation after meeting, or fighting.

“Hey bug, Eddie’s on the phone for you.” Your dad knocked lightly on your door.

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him!” You hollered up to your dad.

Since your fight with Eddie, one week ago, your parents had noticed your very apparent, sour mood. You really had no choice but to tell them that you had in fact met your soulmate and had been hanging out with him non-stop. Your mom had been thrilled for you; she had wanted to know everything about Eddie. Your dad on the other hand, he was furious. He clocked the tear tracks that ran down your cheeks the second you walked in the door, and he wanted Eddie’s address so he could kick his ass. You had assured him that it wouldn’t be necessary, that no matter how upset you were in the moment, in your heart you knew the two of you would be able to work things out.

“Sweetie, maybe you should take his call.” Your mom suggested.

“Maybe you should butt out!” You shouted back.

You were immediately filled with regret. Quickly making your way up the stairs you threw open your door to come face to face with your parents.

“Mom, I am so sorry.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her hand gently brushing at the hair on the back of your head. She always did this when you hugged, and it always brought a warm comfort throughout your body.

“It’s okay. I know that you are upset. Maybe you should try talking to him sweetie, it might make you feel better.” She suggested once more.

“Okay, I guess you’re probably right.” You nodded.

“Well, that’s good because he is on his way right now.” Your dad informed you.

“What? Dad! A little warning would be nice! He doesn’t live that far, and I have to get ready!” You started scrambling down the stairs into your room to get ready.

Your parents chuckled, remembering what it was like to be that young and new in love.

A knock at the door had you sprinting up the stairs and practically shoving your dad out of the way so you could get there first. You weren’t quite ready to have Eddie meet your parents, especially since you aren’t currently on the best of terms.

You opened the door with just enough room to slide out of the house. You took note of Eddie’s disheveled appearance, he had bags under his eyes, his hair looked especially frizzy, and his skin didn’t have its usual glow.

“Hey.” He said sheepishly.

“Hi.” You replied.

“Did you uh, did you want to go sit in the van and talk?” Eddie said gesturing to where it was parked at the end of your driveway.

You nodded and the two of you made your way to the vehicle. He wanted so badly to pull you into his arms and kiss all this pain away, but he knew that it wouldn’t be that simple, he had made some snap judgements and said some hurtful things to you. He knew he needed to apologize and that the two of you still had a lot to learn about one another.

“Baby, I am so sorry. I said some awful shit to you, and I shouldn’t have. I just, I am so used to having people judge me. For how I look, for where I live, who I live with, the people I hang out with, the music I listen to, the field of work I’m in. And I know that you weren’t judging me, that you were just looking out for me because you care, but baby I couldn’t help but let those past feelings eat me alive when you were talking to me.” Eddie explained.

“Eddie, I appreciate you apologizing. I’ve had time to think about things too and I can understand how my reaction could have come across as judgmental. Eddie, my dad is a cop, I have heard what happens to people when they’re caught with a little bit of weed in their possession, but if you were caught selling it, or something worse. Eddie I can’t lose you. Not when I have only just found you.” Tears were running down your face at this point.

Eddie scooted closer to you on the bench of the van, he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When you two broke apart, he leaned his forehead against your own, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I am so sorry baby. Please forgive me?”

“Eddie, before I can forgive you, I need to know that you don’t really think of me like that. I may come from a well-off family now, but there is a lot you don’t know about me and I just – I need to know that you don’t see me as some privileged brat.” You begged.

“Sweetheart, no! I don’t think of you that way. I am so sorry! I don’t even know why I said that. It’s like a defense mechanism. I know that there’s so much I don’t know about you, and I hope that you will trust me enough to tell me everything there is to know about you.” He rushed.

You were both startled by a knock on the window. Looking over at the passenger window, you were mortified to see your dad standing there, giving you and Eddie a small wave. He then gestured for you to roll the window down. You visibly cringed as you began cranking the window open, mouthing an embarrassed apology to Eddie.

“Dadddd…what do you want?” You whined.

“Your mother sent me out here to let you know that dinner is ready. She also wanted me to ask if your friend here would be joining us.” He explained.

Your eyes darted over to Eddie. You were trying to decipher his expression, was he as horrified as you were? Was he intrigued by the idea of meeting your parents.? Was he ready to flee and never return?

Would you want me to stay?

You couldn’t help but smile. His thought was timed perfectly, this soulmate thing definitely had its perks.

Of course I want you to stay! I just don’t want them to scare you off.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’d like to stay for dinner.” Eddie looked at your dad, who replied with a curt nod.

“I can’t believe you’re a Metallica fan! I just finished learning Master of Puppets on my guitar!” Eddie gushed.

“That’s a tough song, I bet you had to practice for weeks!” Your dad indulged Eddie.

This is so embarrassing! Your dad is so cool!

Your mom laughed at the exchange between the two men and she and you cleared the table. She gave you a knowing look and nodded towards your room.

“Why don’t you two go watch a movie, your dad and I can clear the rest of this up.” She suggested.

“Only if you’re sure.” You asked, gaze shifting from your mom to your dad.

“Door stays open.” Your dad pointed towards you.

With that you grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him down to your room, being sure to leave your door open, per your dad’s request. As you descended the stairs, Eddie’s jaw made its way to the floor. He was amazed by your room, you had records hung on the walls and ceiling, one of your walls had an incredible photo collage, with photos of you, your friends and family throughout the years, and below that were stacks of books next to a small desk. He’d have to ask you about who all these people were. You also had a projector screen that you clearly used for movies.

“This is amazing! You read J.R.R. Tolkien and Stephen King? And these records, this is so cool, I would never want to leave if this was my room!” Eddie exclaimed.

God, like you could get any hotter.

“Yeah, my parents are pretty cool about letting me express my creative freedoms or whatever.” You shrugged.

You couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, Eddie had talked about how you got everything you’d ever wanted, and this made that seem true. If only he knew.

Things had continued on pretty well with you and Eddie over the next few months. You guys had grown closer, trusting one another with the heavier secrets of your lives. Eddie had told more in depth about his parents. His mom had gotten hooked on drugs thanks to his dad, who was quick to put hands on Eddie and his mom when he was under the influence – which seemed to be more often than not.

You had wanted to tell Eddie about your past too, but the timing just didn’t seem right. Every time you went to share, something came up, or you were trying to avoid it coming across as you are one-upping him and his trauma.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

Eddie had dinner at your house once a week, and you’d traded off whose house you’d go to after school each day. Nothing physical had transpired between the two of you other than a few heavy make out sessions. At each other’s houses you had fallen into a routine, at yours you would either watch a movie or read, at his you’d either watch a movie, listen to music, or help him with his campaigns.

Tonight happened to be dinner at your house, your parents had suggested ordering a pizza tonight and playing Monopoly. Eddie had enjoyed nights like this, your parents had been extremely welcoming of him. He had appreciated that they didn’t judge him, not once in all the time he has known them. They had been warm and kind and accepting.

Your dad had bonded with him about his taste in music and had shown an interest in Dungeons and Dragons. Your mom talked to him about his future and his dreams of being in a band, but the reality of him probably becoming a mechanic.  Your mom had told him that he should pursue music as long as he had something he could fall back on should it not work out. She told him that he could achieve his dreams as long as he worked hard at it.

These conversations, these dinners, these nights with your family had been amazing, they had also been painful for Eddie. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t get to have a childhood like this, that he had to get his ass beat by his dad while his mom was strung out on the couch. He hadn’t been removed from their custody until he was about 10 years old, that’s when child services pulled him from their care and moved him in with Wayne.

Wayne had grown fond of you immediately; he had seen how Eddie had changed immediately after meeting you. He had been happier, which meant the world to Wayne. All Wayne had ever wanted was for Eddie to have something good in his life and here you were. You and Wayne were buds and it filled Eddie with a sense of pride that his uncle approved of you.

Now if only things could stay simple like that forever.

Eddie and you had finished dinner and a game of Monopoly at your house. You were planning to go to Eddie’s after to watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. After pulling up in front of the trailer, Eddie made his way to your side of the van and pulled you out of the car. You giggled as he kissed you and the two of you stumbled into the living room.

He made his way to the kitchen to grab drinks for you both and he began popping some popcorn.

“Sorry about my parents tonight. I know they can be super lame.” You huffed out a laugh.

“What do you mean? Your parents are great!” Eddie said.

“No, I know, but they act so goofy. It’s embarrassing.” You shook your head.

At least you have parents.

“Jesus Eddie.”

“What? I didn’t…oh shit. Babe I’m sorry. It’s just, you should be thankful that you have parents who care about you. Not all of us are that lucky.”

“I’m not that lucky Eddie! Fuck! How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!” You sighed.

“Then tell me! Please, enlighten me as to how your two wonderful parents can be so bad!” Eddie egged you on.

“THEY'RE NOT MY PARENTS!” You shouted at him, then took a deep breath. “Eddie, they’re not my real parents.”

Eddie sat a looked at you, mouth agape, speechless. You could tell that he was waiting for you to continue, but you needed a moment to collect your thoughts. You had to explain everything, this conversation could change everything.

“My parents, Eddie, they did some horrible shit. Neither of them had any other family, my mom she uh, she had post-partum depression, she wasn’t doing well, for a long time after my little sister was born. I guess that had caused my dad to seek comfort elsewhere, I was only six when all this happened. But uh, my mom she uh she left my sister in the bath alone, my sister slid down into the water and drowned, she was only 8 weeks old. When my dad came home and found her, he was furious. Eddie he killed my mom, and then he killed himself. I ended up in foster care and bounced from home to home until I was twelve, until they took me in.”

“Sweetheart. I, I am so sorry. I don’t, I’m not sure what to say.” Eddie whispered. “But uh, you said. You had mentioned that your mom told you bedtime stories about how her and your dad met.”

“My mom now, she would tell me how her and my dad met, every night until I finally started sleeping.” You explained.

The nightmares made it impossible. I couldn’t stop seeing the blood.

Eddie crossed the room and pulled you into his arms. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid this whole time. You had been silently telling him that your life wasn’t all that perfect, that though now, it seemed good, it hadn’t always been. He needed you to know that he was here for you, no matter what.

I’ve got you. I will always have you baby.

A sob escaped your throat, ripping through the silence. Eddie held you; he laid you with him in his bed, his hand brushing through your hair gently, whispering sweet nothings to you.

I haven’t told anyone that story. Nobody, ever. Not even my parents. Your secret is safe with me. You are safe with me. I love you sweetheart. I love you Eds.

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive

[dem-obscure-imagines]

You're So Timeless | Vol. 1

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year. 

Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.

Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. Part 2 linked HERE and also at the end of the post.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.

Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)

Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female 

The End

Time.

It was a fickle thing. In the blink of an eye, a year had passed. A mere twelve months earlier, you had been living a different life. The only life you had been responsible for was your own. And your plants, but…they never seemed to last that long under your care. Now, everything was different.

It was the day before your birthday. Your twenty-fifth birthday, which, in the world you lived in, meant that tomorrow, a name would appear on your wrist, the name of your soulmate. It had been stressing you out all day, the weight of tomorrow and everything it meant.

It was late, and you were exhausted from a day of overthinking. The longer you stayed up, the longer you delayed the inevitable reveal, and thinking about it too much made you nervous, so you just decided to get to sleep sooner than later.

It was once you were just about to climb into bed that there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open!” You called. The door opened slowly, revealing Steve, who was leaning in your doorway, arms crossed, that pensive look in his blue eyes. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi.” He chuckled. He seemed nervous, although you weren’t sure why.

“Everything alright, Steve?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I actually came in here to check on you. Wanda said you were…quiet.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You hugged your arms around your frame and bit your lip, looking up at the super soldier standing in front of you. “Just…I don’t know. I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow for my entire life, but…now that it’s here, I’m so scared.”

“Hey, come here.” He said, pulling you to him, strong arms wrapped around you, as if he could protect you from the future itself.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“(Y/N), whoever they are, they are incredibly, incredibly lucky. You don’t need to worry about anything. It’ll all work out. It always does.” He said it like he was certain. Like somehow he knew what would happen in the morning when suddenly your life was turned on its head and you had to venture out to find your other half.

Since you’d met him, Steve wore a leather band around his wrist, covering his soulmate’s name. You’d figured he must have met them in the forties and…maybe they hadn’t made it long enough to see him come out of the ice. But you didn’t ask about it. You never dared to put that question into words. He’d been through enough heartbreak already.

“What if they don’t like me…?”

He scoffed, holding you tighter. “That’s impossible. They’re going to love you. So much. I promise.”

“And…and we’ll still be f-friends?”

Steve pulled away, looking down at you, a hand very carefully touching your cheek. “Of course we will still be friends. Nothing is ever going to change that. I promise.”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Good. Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

He gently wiped the tear away, the pad of his thumb warm. Once he was sure you were okay, he let go, looking at you with that knowing sparkle in his eye once more. He took a little extra time to look at the shirt you were wearing, the Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You agreed.

“And happy birthday, (Y/N).”

We’ll Meet Again

“Ma’am? Are you alright? Ma’am?” The voice sounded far away. You were pretty sure you were still dreaming. You opened your eyes slowly and immediately became aware of the pounding pain in your head.

“Ow, oh my God.” You reached up and felt there, but it didn’t feel like you were bleeding or anything.

“Ma’am?”

You froze for a second, slowly looking up at the figure standing above you, confusion written all over his familiar features. It took you a long moment to put the pieces together. You were on a porch somewhere in what appeared to be New York, but it was…different. A lot different than the parts of the city you knew. Alright, it had to be a dream.

You looked up at the man standing above you and did a double-take. But no, it was him. It was a tiny, frail version of Steve. Your eyebrows furrowed and you sat up slowly, staring at him for a long moment before whispering, “Steve?”

His mouth opened and then shut again and he made a face of confusion, like he was trying to place where he knew you from, but he didn’t know you yet, and wouldn’t know you for several more years, to say the least. “Do I know you?”

“It’s complicated.” You exhaled. “Can we go inside? You’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dumbfounded, Steve nodded and you stood up from the porch, only to find that he was at your eye level when you did. Weird. He led you into the small apartment and you looked around. It was quaint. There was an easel in the corner of the room and…Bucky Barnes sitting on the couch? You stared at him for a good, long moment, a shiver running down your spine.

“Who’s the dame?” He read your shirt. “What is Star…Wars…?”

“About to find that out myself.” He chuckled, leading you into the living room. “Buck, could you give us a minute?”

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” Bucky got up and walked to the other half of their tiny two-bedroom.

You sat down on the couch and so did he. The silence was thick. You thought for several moments. You weren’t quite sure how you had ended up in the 1940s. You looked down at your hands and it was then that your gaze finally landed on the writing on your wrist. And then everything made sense.

“What’s the date today?”

“It’s July 4th, why?”

“July 4th…” You whispered. “What, 1943?”

You could see the wheels turning behind his eyes before he replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Well, happy birthday, first of all. And second of all…” You held up your wrist so he could read it. Steve’s eyes went wide and he stared at the three words written neatly on your skin in his own handwriting.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“You’re my…” He looked at you for a long time, his eyes wide. He hastily undid the cuff around his wrist and held it out to you, your own name written there. He ran a finger across the letters, as if to prove they were really there.

“I’m your soulmate.” You said certainly.

It hit you like a truck, then. The weird look on your Steve’s face, the way he was so certain that everything would work out. It was because he had already lived through this. And that meant that in all the time he’d known you, he’d been hiding his mark not because his soulmate had died, but instead because you were his soulmate and you didn’t know it yet.

Your entire year of friendship, of memories, of roadtrips and missions and movie marathons…he had known the whole time. And that look in his eyes wasn’t just his protective side coming out. It was love. It had been love the whole time.

Oh.

Steve exhaled a long, shaking breath, really taking you in. Once again, he had a million stars in his eyes. He let out a whispered, “Wow,” as tears began to form.

You came back down to earth. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, sniffling as a tear ran down his cheek. “I’ve just, I’ve got a lot of…health problems, so I wasn’t sure if I’d ever…meet you. And you’re here and you’re great and I just…I’m sorry.”

That brought tears to your eyes. “Oh, Steve…” You pulled him into your arms and he didn’t hesitate to surrender to your embrace, his arms wrapping tight around you and holding you close, head nestled into the crook of your neck. “Just breathe. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Always.

He took your advice, doing his best to avoid an asthma attack on what was shaping up to be the best day of his life. Once he finally caught his breath, he pulled away to look at your face again. “I have to ask…How did you know?”

“I don’t know if you can tell from these clothes,” you motioned down to the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing, “but I’m not from around here, exactly.”

“I kind of thought so, but I didn’t want to be rude.” He smiled softly. “Um, where are you from, then?”

“I’m from the future. Like…a while from now. It’s hard to explain why or how, and I’m not really sure how I got here, to be honest, but I’m glad I am.” You sighed, thumb grazing his cheek, wiping away his tears. He crooned at your touch. “I don’t know how long we have before I have to go back.”

“Am I there? Where you’re from?”

“You are. It’s complicated. We’re really good friends and…when I get back, I’m sure we’ll probably be even more than that.” You smiled, shaking your head. “I can’t believe I didn’t put the pieces together sooner.”

“(Y/N)?” Steve asked, trying out your name for the first time.

“Yeah?”

“Let me take you out today, show you a good time here before you have to go back.” He took your hand and carefully laced his fingers through your own, testing the weight of it, the feel of it.

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Not to eavesdrop, lovebirds — congratulations, by the way — but if you’re going to take her out, we’re going to need to find her some clothes that aren’t so…‘not from around here.’” Bucky leaned in the doorway.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call one of my girls and we’ll get her squared away. Sit tight.”

“Thanks, Bucky.” You said, chuckling when his eyes widened after you addressed him by name. “I know you, too. From the, uh, future.”

“Weird…” Bucky decided.

“Long story?” Steve asked, studying the look on your face.

“Very.” You agreed. After staring at him for another long moment, you pulled him back into your arms again, exhaling a long breath before whispering, “Steve, I’m so glad it’s you…”

***

“Wow.” You stared at yourself in the mirror, studying the way Bucky’s, ahem, lady friend, had curled your hair, done your makeup. You did a little twirl and relished in the way the skirt of your dress twirled. It was navy blue, short ruffled sleeves with a flared skirt and buttons down the front. “I think it suits me.”

“I agree. Blue is a good color on you.” Steve was sitting in a chair at the edge of the room, absolutely enamored as he watched you. “Although, I’m sure they’re all good colors on you, doll.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.” He stood up and walked to you, slipping one of his hands into each of yours and staring into your eyes, looking at the way you looked standing next to him in his reflection. His soulmate. The kind of girl people write poems about. “You look great.”

“I don’t look out of place?”

“No one is gonna think you’re a time traveler. Well, unless you tell them.” Bucky said. “Maybe don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it.” You chuckled and gave Steve’s hands a squeeze. “Where to first, soulmate?”

His cheeks reddened as soon as you said the word. “Well, I was thinking we could go to my favorite little diner down the street to grab something for lunch, and then maybe we could take a walk through the park, catch a movie, and then go out for drinks tonight?”

“What, you aren’t gonna take her dancing?” Bucky teased, ruffling Steve’s hair under a large hand. “Show the girl a good time?”

“I would if I didn’t have two left feet.” Steve chuckled, a sheepish smile on his face. He looked at you, waiting for some kind of response. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a great time, Steve.”

He smiled. “Good.”

The two of you left the apartment not long after that, and walked side by side towards the diner. Your hands were swinging in the space between you and your hand brushed Steve’s once, twice, a third time, and then you slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers.

You caught him smile out of the corner of your eye. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” He grinned and chuckled to himself. “You can hold my hand as much as you want, doll.”

When the two of you finally got to the diner, a little bell rang over your heads and you got seated at a booth by the window. The two of you ordered drinks and you skimmed the menu while you waited.

“So, tell me about yourself.” You said, resting your chin against your fist and looking over at Steve. You studied the way his blue, blue eyes flicked up to your own and the blush that covered his cheeks shortly thereafter.

“You probably know a lot of it already.” He chuckled. “Unless we don’t talk a lot?”

“We talk quite a bit, but I still want to know about this you. Here and now.”

“I like art. Drawing and painting and stuff.” He said. “I haven’t had time to do much lately, but I’d like to get back into it.”

“See, that I didn’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were into art.”

“I could, uh, show you sometime.” He offered.

“I’d like that.” You smiled. “What else?”

“I like to read. I like going to Dodgers games with Bucky. One time he took me to Coney Island. I don’t like rollercoasters, but I liked playing the games. He wasted three whole dollars trying to win a teddy bear for a redhead named Dot.”

“Three whole dollars…” You chuckled. “Well you don’t have to worry about the rollercoasters too much, I can’t go upside down without throwing up.”

“That makes two of us. Enough about me, tell me about you.” Steve nudged, his hand slowly moving towards yours. “How do we know each other? When did we meet?”

“We’re…coworkers, I guess you could say. We met about a year back and now we live in the same building? I’m sorry for being so vague, I just—”

“Don’t want to give it away, yeah, I get it.” He nodded, understandingly.

“You took me under your wing as soon as I moved in and really made me feel welcome. You’re the one that brought me onto the team, actually.” You took a sip of your drink. “We’ve been through a lot together already, and I’m sure it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Mmm…” Steve nodded. “I know I just met you, but I’m really glad you and I are close. Well, will be close.” He paused before chuckling and shaking his head. “There’s still some little voice in the back of my head telling me all of this is just some amazing dream.”

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” You chuckled, tucking a piece of curled hair back behind your ear. “I’ve…I’ve had a crush on you forever, Steve. I can’t believe this is happening.”

He stared at you, almost dumbfounded. “O-on me?”

“Yeah.” You agreed. You’d forgotten, you supposed, that Steve had had this phase, the self-depreciation, the insecurity. Your Steve, when complimented, was shy, sure, but you knew he understood what people were talking about. This Steve didn’t see it that way. Not yet. But it would be your job to use your one day with him to change that, to make your soulmate see that he was worthy of love, even self-love. “Yeah, of course on you, Steve. I can’t believe I get to have you.”

His cheeks reddened and he finally took the leap, taking your hand across the table, thumb grazing your knuckles with care. His blue eyes sparkled. “Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about you.”

***

Once the two of you were finished up at the diner, you took a walk through the park. It was gorgeous out, a bright, sunny, warm summer afternoon. Several couples were strolling down the paths, hand in hand, and you were one of them, your hand held tight in Steve’s, his thumb gently stroking the back of yours.

You went to the theater and caught a movie together. Luckily enough, they were showing the Wizard of Oz. Your current situation had you feeling like Dorothy in more ways than one. The movie had only come out four years earlier, which was definitely strange. Not to mention the fact that the tickets were only twenty-five cents, the popcorn a mere ten cents.

And then, once the movie was over and the sun was setting, you went to a bar, where Steve ordered each of you a drink. You took a sip of yours, something sweet, and smiled at him across the table.

“So, how’s your day been, birthday boy?” You asked coyly.

“The best I’ve had so far,” he replied, his eyes sparkling. The sparkle faded, however, when his expression grew somber. He hesitated, but then asked, “Okay, I have to know…How long do I have to wait to see you again?”

You exhaled a long sigh, biting your lip. If you told him the truth, he might ask questions you couldn’t tell him the answers to. And besides, the real answer would require some math. You didn’t know the specifics.

“I’ll be honest, Steve, it’s…it’s a pretty long time.” You thought for a long moment before continuing, “I…I can’t really tell you why. It’s all really complicated, and if I tell you too much, it might not happen the way it’s supposed to.”

“Oh…” Steve nodded and took a sip of his drink. Once he set down the glass, he reached across the table and took your hand. “Well, however long it is,” he looked straight into your eyes and a chill ran down your spine, “It’ll be worth it. Every second. I promise.”

You could have cried. “I hope so.”

“There you two are! I was wondering which bar you’d wandered into!” Bucky was, apparently, already slightly intoxicated as he approached you and Steve with a date of his own. “How was your day on the town, lovebirds?”

“Spectacular.” You replied. “I wish there was more time to soak it in.”

“New York sure is something, huh?” Bucky’s date asked, giggling innocently. If only she knew the half of it.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You guys wanna sit with us?” Steve asked.

“If you don’t mind too much, punk.” Bucky grinned.

Steve got up and switched sides of the booth so he was sitting next to you instead of across from you. You slid your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He smiled, chuckling softly to himself as he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Did you give the lady her dance, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirking.

“Not yet.” Steve chuckled. “We’ll see. The asthma makes it a bit difficult sometimes.”

“Never seems to stop you from getting into fights.” Bucky muttered, causing Steve’s cheeks to flush.

“Just wait until the band plays something slow,” Bucky’s date pointed out.

“There you go!” Bucky raised his glass to his lips. “Great idea, Maggie.”

“Glad to be of service.”

And so, the four of you chatted until the band started to play something sweet and slow. Steve looked at you for approval and you nodded. He led you out onto the floor with the other couples.

Steve blushed, flustered, and he looked at you before saying, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“It’s easy.” You promised, guiding one of his hands to your waist and holding the other. “That’s it. And then we just move to the music. You can twirl me around if you feel so inclined.”

“Alright.” He chuckled, swaying in time with you. “Hey, uh, (Y/N), I need you to know…I had a really, really great time today. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a soulmate and I’m so excited to spend the rest of my life with you someday, however far away that someday is.”

“I’m glad I met your expectations.” You smiled, tugging him a bit closer.

“No, you exceeded them. You’re better than anything I could have imagined. I’m so lucky.” He paused, and his expression fell a little. “I know I’m a lot. I have a lot of problems and they might complicate things sometimes, but…”

“Steve, you’re perfect.” You shook your head and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “The universe gave you to me for a reason and I’m so, so glad it did. You’re amazing. I can’t think of anyone better to spend the rest of my life with.”

He was quiet for a moment before whispering, “Can I please kiss you, doll?”

You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, the music swelling around you as you guided his hands to your waist, cupping his cheeks to hold him close to you. When the moment had passed, you rested your nose against his, meeting his eyes and inhaling his scent, committing this version of him to memory before he was reduced to just that, a memory.

“Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.”

You spent the rest of the night together. Twirling across the dancefloor, talking, soaking each other in. But when you reached the front porch of the townhouse, Steve looked back down the steps to find you’d disappeared, leaving him with nothing but the memory of your lips, your laugh, your smile.

“You gonna be alright?” Bucky asked, a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” He replied, words swallowed up by the sounds of the night. “Just give me a minute, pal.”

Bucky nodded, solemn. “Take all the time you need.”

The Beginning

Steve remembered the day you’d met—for the second time, though he didn’t realize it right away—like it was tattooed on his brain. It was a few years after he’d come out of the ice and he had taken Tony’s advice to get out more, which had led him to the local mall.

It had been an uneventful day. He strolled around the perimeter, taking in the storefronts, studying the fashion, browsing the menu of a pretzel place, reading the posters on the exterior of the movie theater, the things that were coming out in the coming months. Nothing interested him in particular. He didn’t really care for war movies.

After a few quiet hours, his peaceful walk was interrupted by screams, people running away at top speed, which, of course, caused him to spring into action, assessing the situation. He ran towards the source of the chaos, scanning, scanning, until his eyes landed on the attacker, a guy with a flamethrower, aimed at a teenage theater employee. Steve hurdled over a trash can, moving people out of the way, directing them to safety and trying to put himself between himself and the mallgoers, but before he could, you did, hands out in front of you and what seemed to be an invisible shield poised there, redirecting the flames and protecting the movie theater employee that had nearly been caught in the crossfire.

A quick flick of your wrist knocked the attacker’s gun out of his hands and it slid across the floor to Steve’s feet. He chucked it into the fountain without a second thought, where it fizzled pathetically. The guy lunged at you with heavy metal gauntlets, and you dodged the first swing but caught the second in the face, falling backwards. When you landed, however ungracefully, you sent a blast of energy at the guy, knocking him over a plant and sprawling onto the tile floor.

While the guy was on the ground, Steve tackled him, wrenching the gauntlets off of his hands and chucking them away, too. Soon, the police arrived, apprehending the guy while mall security comforted the distressed mall patrons, ushering them to safety and medical attention.

You sat on a bench after, breathing heavy, a cut on your forehead. Steve walked over, interested in this superpowered rescuer, someone who wasn’t yet on the Avengers’ radar, but would most definitely be on the news the next day if the sheer amount of phone footage recorded was any indication.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad everyone is okay.” You told him, meeting his eyes.

He finally got a good look at you and froze, looking bewildered. A deer in headlights. “You’re…”

There you are, doll. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

It was you. Of course it was you. Since the moment he’d been unfrozen, he’d been looking for you. His soulmate. The girl from the future that popped in on his twenty-fifth birthday, turned his whole life on its head, and then left without warning, hours after their first kiss. Back when he was five-foot-nothing with asthma and more medical conditions than he could even remember.

Back before he was anything.

And you’d loved him anyway. You’d given him the day of a lifetime and hope for not only a future, but for love. That someone could love him for him despite it all.

“I know.” You knew? “I…I don’t know what it is or…why I can do it. I’ve been like this since college.”

Your powers, you meant. You thought he was talking about your powers and not your name, which was burning a hole into his wrist beneath the thick leather band keeping it hidden.

“Right. Well, it’s…” He sighed, gathering his words, hiding the elation and pain behind a warm smile. “It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t have my shield on me.”

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

“You, uh…have a cut. On your forehead.”

“Oh, do I?” You reached up and found it with your fingers and they came away a bit bloody. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He offered you his hand and you took it, letting him lead you over to the counter of the theater. “Hi, do you have a first aid kit we could borrow?”

“Yeah, of course.” The girl at the counter said, rushing to grab it.

Steve patched you up with gentle hands, off in a corner on your own, in the room the theater used for birthday parties. Staring up at him, you finally realized the obvious. This was Captain America. And he was using a careful finger to spread a triple antibiotic ointment on your cut.

Play it cool, (Y/N).

“Do you do this often? The hero thing?” Steve asked, trying to sound somewhat indifferent. He couldn’t be, though. Not entirely. Not when it came to you.

“No.” You shrugged. “Haven’t had much opportunity, thankfully. I mean…I’d like to, I just didn’t know how to…get into it, I guess. Any email I sent to Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever would end up on a slush pile.”

“Well, I’ve got some connections. If you’re seriously considering it. I can’t say I recommend it, but…Obviously you’ve got that protective instinct and you seem to work well under pressure.”

“I don’t know about that. My heart is about to leap out of my chest.” You admitted, laughing as he carefully laid a Bandaid over the cut, closing the kit.

“That makes two of us.”

“Well, if you think I’m really cut out for it…I’d love to help.”

***

It was three days later that Nick Fury got in touch with you. You thought it was a scam call at first, but no one else would possibly have the info about you that he did. That was S.H.I.E.L.D. for you, you supposed.

You packed up your apartment, your boxes of books, your old journals, your clothes and makeup, your life, and hopped in the jet that was waiting for you at the meeting place. Inside was a pilot with flaming red hair, Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. It was hard not to get a little starstruck.

She helped you load your things into the jet, let you settle into the copilot seat, and then you took off, soaring away from your old life and towards your new one, the mysterious, magnificent facility tucked into upstate New York, that iconic A emblazoned on the front of the building.

“Steve said you’re telekinetic. That’s cool.” She complimented with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve got force-field stuff. I don’t know what else, exactly.”

“Oh, we’ll figure all that out. Banner already has a list of tests he wants to run. Nothing too intense. I made him promise not to give you the lab rat treatment too soon.”

“Reassuring.” You chuckled.

“Wanda’s been decorating your room all day. It’s not often we get new blood.”

“I appreciate it. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

“They can’t wait to meet you.”

The jet landed a little under an hour later and Natasha helped you haul boxes towards the front door, where Steve was waiting. It was like time slowed, that look in his eyes, glistening little stars.

“Come on, Rogers, these boxes aren’t going to move themselves.” Nat waved him over, snapping both of you out of your trance.

“Right, right.” He jogged over. “Is there anything heavy?”

“That one.” You pointed. “It’s got my candles in it.”

“On it.”

You grabbed a few tote bags, slinging your computer bag over your shoulder. A few others came out to help, Clint and Wanda namely, the latter of whom used her shimmering red powers to speed the process along. Were you any more confident in your own powers, you would do the same, but you hadn’t had much opportunity to use them yet, and you didn’t want to drop anything fragile on your first day.

You started unpacking the essentials, your smart speaker, your laptop, some books and your favorite candle. You put some clothes in the dresser, hung some up in the large sliding closet in the wall. Upon further examination, you had your own bathroom, too, which was nice. There was a wall tapestry with sunflowers on it, and several little knickknacks. Wanda’s loving touch.

Someone cleared their throat and you turned to find Steve there, arms crossed, leaning in the doorway.

“Hi there, um, just checking in. Figured you might want a tour when you got settled in. No rush, of course.”

“I would love a tour. I can already tell I’m gonna get lost in this place.”

He grinned. “Not on my watch. Come on. I’ll show you around.”

Steve walked with you through the office spaces, the computer labs, Bruce’s lab, Tony’s. Tony was in the city, but Bruce was home and introduced himself with a dad joke about the Hulk and a warm handshake. You saw the training facility, a giant room with floor to ceiling windows, a wall of mirrors, practice dummies, landing mats, and plenty of sparring weapons. There was, separately, a fully furnished gym, and then the basics, a large, modern kitchen, living areas and lounges, study spaces, a library, a party room with a bar, and a very fancy coffee machine.

You could see yourself making a home here.

Steve walked you back to the hallway where all the bedrooms were. “If you need anything or have any questions, my room is just down the hall on the left. Wanda is next door. Dinner is at six.”

“Six o’clock it is. Thank you, Cap.”

“You can call me Steve.”

“Steve.” You nodded, slowly accepting the fact that you were now on a first name basis with Captain America. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He said, some twinge of nostalgia at the end of his words. You turned back into your room to get some more unpacking done and Steve walked back down the hall, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling, doing his best to hold in his tears.

…Ready For It?

You spent the first few days in your room for the most part, unpacking but also hiding, if you were honest. You met Vision. He seemed nice. He also had the ability to phase through walls, apparently. Still no sign of Thor, but you weren’t holding your breath. You were sure he was a busy guy.

Sam Wilson introduced himself with the same offer everyone else had so far, to let them know if you needed anything. You appreciated it.

And then, finally, there was Tony, whose dry humor came across immediately. He sized you up, drilling questions about where you went to college, what you majored in, what your top three movies from the 1980s were. You were pretty sure he liked you, but you didn’t think he trusted you. And that was okay. You knew that was something you’d have to earn around there.

“No soulmark yet, kid?” He asked, eyeing up your bare wrist.

“Not yet.” You confirmed.

“That makes you what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-four. As of last month, actually.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Well that’s exciting. I’m sure you’re counting down the days.”

“More or less.” You chuckled, catching Steve watching you out of the corner of your eye. He did that a lot, you noticed.

Before Tony could come up with some witty comeback, the lights flashed red, accompanied by a loud siren.

“Vis? What’s going on?” Tony asked as Vision walked into the room, his sophisticated sweater melting into the uniform you’d seen on the news, red and green with a golden cape.

“There seems to be a stir at the local fairgrounds. Tremors and gunshots. Hostages.”

“Alright, let’s go pay them a visit then.” Tony pressed a button on his watch and transformed into Iron Man in front of your very eyes. “You can stay here or come with us. Up to you. But suit up fast. We’re out in five.”

You stood there for a moment, waiting for the shock to wear off, but the sirens definitely weren’t helping.

“Stick with me.” Steve instructed, voice calm, confident.

“Okay.” You nodded, following after him, towards the hangar where they kept the jets.

Natasha was standing at a locker, pulling her catsuit on with impressive speed, Clint beside her, loading a quiver with arrows, checking his bow.

“Nat, can you get her ready?”

“Baby’s first mission?” She asked, impressed.

You nodded, waiting for orders.

“Well, it should be an easy one, from the sound of it. Here, put this on. We’ll get you your own gear in the next few weeks.”

She chucked you an extra suit and you did your best to shimmy into it. Surprisingly, you could actually move in it. There were holsters, but you weren’t gun trained, so you figured it was best to leave that to the professionals. Instead, you followed the others onto the jet, hoping your forcefields and blossoming battle instincts would be enough to protect you out there.

***

The fair had devolved quickly into madness. There was fire, screaming, running, and gunshots. You flinched at the onslaught of it, but followed the others out anyway, listening to the voice in your earpiece, Steve’s voice, as he issued orders. You were put on civilian evacuation with Sam while the others engaged with the attackers. Six of them.

You did your job diligently, ushering people to a safe distance while law enforcement arrived. Until one of the attackers engaged with you, however, mistaking you for a civilian. Something snapped. In an instant your flight instinct vanished, replaced with the need to fight. He punched at you and you countered, sweeping a leg under him and then using a forcefield to knock him into the cornfield.

One of them launched a bazooka at Tony while he wasn’t looking, and without a thought, you trapped the explosive in a bubble, forcing it into the air where it exploded harmlessly, away from everyone.

And when the dust settled, the rest of the team turned to look at you, sharing looks with each other.

“Thanks for the save, kid. I owe you one.” Tony complimented, clapping you on the back on his way into the jet. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Your heart raced with the adrenaline of battle, the feeling of a job well done. Steve gave you a thumbs-up, a proud grin. His risk had paid off. You weren’t a total failure.

“You doin’ okay?” He asked, slinging his shield onto his back.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You replied, letting the energy fizzle back into your palms.

He watched with interest at the faint crackles of blue that made up your powers. “You did good out there.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Thanks, I—"

“Alright new girl, were are we stopping for food?” Natasha asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“I get to pick?” You asked with a laugh.

“And don’t be afraid to pick something fancy. It’s Tony’s treat.” Clint added, walking with the rest of you onto the jet. You strapped in while the others tried their darndest to influence your pick, bickering like siblings. Like your family.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

Waypoint

Your training started shortly after that first mission. Bruce took all your vitals, measured them before, during, and after use of your powers. He recorded said powers with every device known to man until he had your ability down to a science. He had a hunch they were of cosmic origin, but you had no idea when you could have possible come in contact with something like that.

Next came a uniform. At the moment, it was a dark indigo color, something similar to navy blue, but leaning a bit more purple. The chest area was left blank, Tony claiming he’d add a symbol once his graphic design team came up with something. He did add some accents up the arms and down the legs, thin, light blue lines that matched the color of your powers.

Natasha and Clint gave you a few crash courses on weapons and your aim left a bit to be desired, but your hand-eye coordination wasn’t bad. Sam put you on a modified military workout regimen to get in shape, get your stamina up with the rest of the team.

You practiced making forcefields, seeing how big you could make them, how small, how much force they could endure before they broke. Natasha shot some bullets at them, and your fields caught them, allowing you to kill their momentum and drop them harmlessly to the ground. They could withstand some electricity, but not Wanda’s powers. And they held against Steve’s superstrength, but not for long. Still, a few hits from a supersoldier was more than most could endure, so it would buy you some time in the field.

Eventually, you moved on from just forcefields and started learning to move objects. It turned out, you were not limited to bubbles. You could create platforms underneath things. This evolved into creating platforms underneath people, that they could jump on, or ride on top of while you moved them.

You practiced using them for transport too, but it was harder standing on them while controlling them, especially if you tried to jump from platform to platform. It was a bit like patting your head and rubbing your tummy, and it would take a lot of practice.

There weren’t many missions, and the ones that popped up, you didn’t get sent on. They were high level things, and while your powers were improving, and very quickly, Bruce was always quick to reassure you, you weren’t ready for covert ops yet, especially ones that had been months in the making.

Every time Steve got sent off, he left with that sad little half-smile of his, the one where he pressed his lips together, eyes glittering like a lake under moonlight. He’d give you some words of comfort, usually dealing with how short the mission was supposed to be. It didn’t often make you feel better.

Bruce stayed behind with you, most times. More like all of the times. Code Greens, as they were called, were seldom necessary, and besides, as they had learned with Wanda back during the Ultron days, Bruce could be a liability if someone else got in his head. But it was nice not being completely alone in the big empty facility.

“He always looks so sad when he leaves.” You noted, sipping from a mug of warm tea. Steve had left only moments before, the last member of the team that was shipping out.

Bruce thought about it for a moment. “Does he?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know him that well.” You shrugged, the sounds of Animal Crossing resonating from the TV.

“You know, he has, lately. He didn’t used to.” Bruce noted.

“Weird.”

“Uh-huh.” He replied absentmindedly. “So explain to me this game?”

“Okay, so you move to this island and have to spend all your money paying off debt to this raccoon…”

It was in another training session that there was a malfunction. A shock grenade went off dangerously close to Sam. Before you could even process what you were doing, your hand shot out, a bright, pulsating star crackling in front of him, another, second star on the other side of the room. Steve assessed the situation and used the shield to knock Sam into the star, neutralizing the grenade right after. There was a bright flash and Sam appeared on the other side of the room, tumbling out of the second star.

You froze, curling your fingers and closing both of them. There was a slight pinch in your shoulder, near the base of your neck. The others all stared.

“Wait, what was that?” Bruce asked over the intercom.

“You did that?” Steve asked, motioning to Sam as he walked over.

“I think so.”

“What was that?”

Natasha asked, looking you up and down. Sam stared at you like you’d sprouted a third eye.

“I don’t know.”

“Do it again.” Bruce insisted. “Hang on, I’m coming in there.”

The door from the observation room opened and Bruce joined the rest of you in the circle that was steadily forming, all of them watching you, waiting.

“I don’t know, it was just like…” You focused on that feeling again, the desperation to get Sam the hell away from that grenade, and as though you were punching a hole through reality, it opened in the center of the circle, an eight-pointed star, bobbing and ebbing and flowing, made of the light blue energy you were so familiar with.

Carefully, you opened another one, ten feet in the air above the first. Clint shrugged and chucked a tennis ball into it. Sure enough, it popped up to the second one, before falling down through the first one again. This continued until eventually you closed the bottom one, letting the tennis ball bounce harmlessly across the floor.

“Well shit.”

“Waypoints.” Bruce said, deep in thought. “Teleportation. This…this opens up a lot of doors.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve murmured.

“Hey, that’s kind of cool. Waypoint.” Clint said, drawing attention to it. “What do you think?”

“What, like as a codename?” You asked, weighing it as an option.

“I like it.” Sam grinned. “Waypoint.”

“Waypoint.” You repeated, trying it out. Hi, I’m Waypoint. I’m an Avenger.

It sounded silly, but it was getting more official by the day. There was, of course, only one way to make it official official, and that was with one of Tony Stark’s famed parties…

Wonderstruck

You let out a sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It was the night of the big party. Your first, as an Avenger, and the official induction of what Tony was deeming the second class of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Sam: the Falcon, Wanda: the Scarlet Witch, Vision, and You: Waypoint.

He’d gotten you a dress to wear, one that matched your uniform. It was long, sleek, that navy blue/indigo color. It glittered like stars and moved like a dream. And in the middle of it, poised at the base of the sweetheart neckline, was the eight-pointed star that Tony had turned into your symbol.

Your hair and makeup were done, and all that was left was the zipper.

Someone knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” You called, expecting Natasha or Wanda. Instead, it was Steve, who, when he saw you were unzipped, pulled the door almost all the way closed and shielded his eyes with his hand.

“Sorry! I’ll leave—”

“Wait, actually, could you help me zip this up? I can’t reach.”

Steve nodded, slowly lowering his hand and entering the room. He closed the door behind him to give you some privacy. He was dressed in a sharp black suit with a blue tie. His lapel pin looked like a tiny version of his shield.

“Wow…” He murmured, taking you in. “You look great, (Y/N).”

“You think so? I’m not sure blue is really my color…”

He scoffed. “It most certainly is.” He swept the hair off of your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the reflection in the mirror as he gently pulled the zipper higher until it was secure in place. “In more ways than one.”

“Yeah, guess so.” You agreed, nervous energy crackling around your fingers, blue as ever. You dispelled it, snapping out of it.

Steve looked at the two of you in the mirror for a long time before turning towards the door again. Halfway there, though, he turned back around, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a flat velvet box. “This is, um…for you.”

“Oh! Thank you.” You reached for it, heart racing. Inside was a necklace, its pendant a silver star with eight points. In the center, an aquamarine gem. You gasped, looking at it. It was beautiful, delicate. “Steve, this is beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I could do.” He said, offering his hand. “May I?”

“Please.” You said, handing him the necklace and moving your hair out of the way. He did the clasp behind your neck. It settled between your collarbones.

“There. Now it’s official.” He whispered.

“Almost.”

“Almost.” Steve agreed, offering you his elbow. “Right this way.”

You looped your arm through his, letting him lead you out into the initial murmurs of the party. What Natasha dubbed the “extended family” had shown up. Rhodey, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, and, of course, Thor.

He was a sight, that was for sure. He towered over everyone else at 6’5”, arms the size of tree trunks. It was a bit intimidating to say the very least.

“Rogers!” Thor bellowed.

“Thor! I didn’t think you were coming.”

He grinned. “I never miss a feast.” His eyes fell on you. “And you must be this new team member Banner spoke of.”

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“The honor is mine.”

“Here.” Natasha handed you a champagne flute. She eyed up your necklace. “That’s cute.”

“Steve gave it to me.”

She quirked an eyebrow and looked up at the supersoldier, who still had your arm. “Steve has good taste.”

“Steve had help.” He admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“I’d get you one too, Rogers, but Thor has the strong stuff.” Natasha said, patting his other arm while you took a sip of the champagne. It was sweet, tangy. “God’s favorite boy scout has trouble getting drunk.”

“My tolerance is too good.”

“I think we just need to get you a Four Loko. Or two.”

“A what?” Steve asked.

“It’s like four drinks in one can. They’re insane. I tried in college, but tapped out halfway through.”

He considered it for a moment, letting out a laugh. “See, that just might work.”

Tony wandered around the lounge, greeting everyone. He looked you up and down. “You look beautiful, Portal Girl.”

You internally chuckled. The others had advised you not to feed his ego when he used his nicknames. “Thank you, Tony.”

“And you’re also here, Rogers.”

“Tony.” Steve nodded.

“You her date tonight?” He asked, motioning to your joint arms.

“Oh. Yeah, I suppose I am.” Steve agreed, not budging. Neither were you.

“Well, I hope you’ve taken some dance lessons since last time, Rogers. I’m sure (Y/N) wouldn’t want to have her feet walked all over.”

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes as Tony moved onto his next targets. Sam emerged, looking very sharp in a red suit. Even Vision had dressed up for the occasion, Wanda beside him wearing an elegant red dress. The two of them talked and laughed on the other side of the room and you smiled. You could tell when you moved in that he cared about her.

You wondered if robots could have soulmates, too. If any android had a soul, surely it was Vision. Maybe you’d ask him about it sometime.

Once all of the expected guests were accounted for, Tony did the briefest ceremony in the history of ceremonies, introducing you all to the few members of the press he had allowed to come. You spent the beginning of the evening shaking hands, networking, and then once the strangers left, the real party started.

Nat switched you to something a lot stronger to champagne, and she was running the bar, so it was easy to get refills. Clint and Thor were arm wrestling on one of the tables which was…hilarious, admittedly.

Steve found you after a few hours apart. “Hey, will you be my partner?”

“Sure, for what?”

He laughed, loosening up quite a bit with Thor’s Asgardian mead in his system. “Sam and Bruce are trying to teach me how to play Beer Ball or something.”

“Beer Pong?”

“That one, yeah.” He nodded. “Winners play Clint and Nat.”

“That checks out.” You chuckled. “Yeah, I’m game. I haven’t played since college, though.”

“I haven’t played ever so I’m sure you’re a step ahead of me anyway.”

“We’ll see about that. Your physics skills are pretty good, what with the shield and all.” You complimented, earning that charming smile of his. “We might just give them a run for their money.”

“Enough flirting, kids, get over here.” Bruce grinned as he finished lining up the cups.

“You know how to play Beer Pong?” You asked, plucking a ping pong ball off of the table and fiddling with it.

“Kid, I have seven PhDs. I have played my share of Beer Pong.” Bruce admitted.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. It was nice to see the Avengers loosen up like this, have a good time together, really truly bond.

You gave Steve the basic rundown of the rules: no elbows past the edge of the table, balls back, stoplight, island, and that if you let Sam and Bruce get too many cups, you and Steve would get “schwaisted” as the kids said, or, at the very least, you would. Steve would probably be fine.

“Ladies first.” Sam said, giving you the second ping pong ball, one of which, you handed to Steve.

“You’re gonna regret that.” You said, rubbing the ball between your hands before perfectly bouncing it into the cup at the front of the pyramid. “Your turn, Steve.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He said, sinking the ball into the same cup. “I believe that’s three cups, gentlemen.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. He shared a look with Bruce. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“You’re telling me.” Bruce chuckled, retrieving the ping pong ball and rolling it back. He started drinking the contents of the first cup, leaving the other two to Sam. “Alright, do your worst.”

Needless to say, you wiped the floor with the other two. Barely even gave them a chance. Which is why it was only fair that Clint and Natasha kicked the absolute shit out of the two of you.

You struggled to down your third cup, which is why when you reached for the fourth, Steve shook his head and took it from you, only offering a wink when you opened your mouth to protest.

“Hey! Steve, it’s supposed to be five each.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she already finished hers.” Steve shrugged, chugging another like it was water. “Right, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah absolutely. What he said.” You shrugged.

You helped clean up the mess a bit after the game was over, rounding up empty cups, wiping down the table, and then washing your hands as Tony switched the music to something upbeat, dancing music.

“Come on, let’s dance.” Steve urged, clearly toeing the line between tipsy and drunk. He reached out for your hand and you couldn’t resist. You didn’t even try.

You let him lead you out to the middle of the room, where Wanda and Vision were already dancing together and looking adorable doing it.

“I thought you couldn’t dance.” You laughed as he spun you around to the music.

“I’m a quick learner.” He whispered, mouth against your ear.

You swore your entire body flushed red, but you let your feet lead you through the dance. Steve took both of your hands, swinging you out and then back in, spinning you around. You blamed the alcohol on what happened next. Your heel caught on the fabric of your dress and you fell over the back of one of the couches, tugging Steve down with you.

He laughed, using an arm to push himself off of you, hovering, eyes soft. “Sorry.”

“It’s my fault. You’ve got me falling for you, Rogers.” You murmured, gazing up at him through your eyelashes.

You said it as a joke, a quip, but there was some truth in it. More than some. It had been a magical, magical night. And if it weren’t for the leather cuff on his wrist, you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him.

Steve closed his eyes, smiling and sitting up, helping you upright again. “I’ll go get us some water.”

You sighed and sat back against the couch, heart hammering in your chest.

Natasha perched on the armrest, looking down at you. “What was that?”

“Not sure. I think I fumbled the bag. If…if there even was a bag I guess.” You chuckled, shrugging.

“No, there is something there. I can see it.” Natasha said, thinking as she nursed a glass of wine. “Hmmm…”

Steve stood in the kitchen, getting two glasses of filtered water from the fridge. He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning against it. He replayed the moment in his head over and over. The look in your eyes, the way your necklace glimmered in the light, the sound of your voice, the flush of your cheeks. You were catching feelings for him, that much was clear. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.

Maybe it was a good thing, he reasoned, thinking back on his first night with you all those years ago. But you still couldn’t know why. Not yet.

It was going to kill him to keep it a secret for ten more months.

Timeless

Sherbert rays of the sunrise lit the training room, filling it with a warm orange glow. You were sitting on the floor, stretching your legs while you listened to music. That was another thing on the growing list of skills that had improved during your stint as an Avenger: your flexibility.

Suddenly, Steve was standing over you, saying something you couldn’t hear due to the noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You slid one off, looking up at him. “Good morning.”

“Morning. You’re here early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged, reaching for your other leg.

“Sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I think I drank too much caffeine before bed last night. Learned my lesson. No caffeine after six.”

“That’s a good rule. Mind if I stretch with you?” He asked.

“I don’t mind.” You tossed your headphones onto your workout bag and connected your phone to the Bluetooth speakers, putting on some music you could both listen to.

“I recognize her. This girl’s voice.”

“Taylor Swift.”

“Ah. Yes, her. I keep hearing about her.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” You laughed. “Have you liked any of her songs so far?”

“I don’t know if I could name one for you, to be honest.” He listened to the song that was playing. “This one’s not bad, though.”

“I’ll send you some recommendations. There are some I think you’d really vibe with.”

He smiled. “I’d really like that.”

The others came in not long after, did their warm-ups, and then Steve briefed everyone on the plan for their training session, one in which everyone would swap weapons, practice using each other’s things in case they ever had to in battle if one of their teammates got disarmed.

You started with Clint. He showed you the absolute basics of archery, how to pull back the bow, how to notch an arrow, how to aim, taking into account distance. You fired a few arrows into a target and did okay, you supposed, but you would need some practice if you wanted to actually get good at it. Years of it, realistically.

Natasha showed you how to use her electric batons, which were fun, but did intimidate you a little. You definitely did not want to end up on the wrong end of those things.

And then, inevitably, you were standing in front of Steve. He offered you his shield, which on its own seemed daunting. You held it for a second, assessing the weight of it. It was noticeably lighter than you thought it would be.

“Woah.”

“Yeah. People always expect it to be heavier.” He said, a hand resting on his hip as he watched you hold it. It looked so right in your hands, he decided. “It’s good for a lot of things, but first…” Carefully, he helped you put your arm through the straps on the back of it, holding it in front of your body in its primary and most famous purpose.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “This is so crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, you have no idea.” You chuckled, waving it around a bit.

“You keep looking at it like it’s Thor’s hammer or something.” He teased.

“Feels like it.”

“Well the good news is, this thing is not password protected by some Asgardian magic words. The bad news is, that means the bad guys can pick it up, too.” Steve said, gently positioning your body in an offensive stance, nudging a foot with his own, switching your arms around. “You can use it to bash somebody head on, or you can angle it a bit to get a more direct blow. It will take the force of most things. I…I actually kind of don’t know the limits. Hasn’t failed me yet. The paint does come off from time to time, though, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay, wow.” You nodded. “Good to know.”

“I trust you with it.” He said, eyes meeting yours.

You smiled, heart racing. “I’m honored.”

He showed you a few other tricks, and then training wrapped up for the day, everyone grabbing some water, taking a shower, or making plans for lunch. Once you walked off with Wanda, Nat cornered Steve.

“What was that?” She asked, that catlike grin on her face.

“What was what?”

“I saw it, you know, the way you looked at her. I think you’ve got a soft spot.”

“Yeah, well, I did rope her into all this. Can’t say I don’t feel responsible for her.” He dodged expertly, weaving through Natasha’s mental gymnastics with skill and precision, or so he thought.

“Uh-huh sure. Well, she, Wanda, and I are going antiquing this afternoon. You should come. After all, you know quite a bit about vintage valuables.”

He laughed. “Hey!”

She walked off, smiling to herself. Steve thought about it for all of four seconds before he decided he would tag along. He hadn’t been to an antique shop in this century, so he couldn’t imagine the kinds of things they had there now. He might even learn a thing or two.

***

After a quick lunch, Steve did decide to tag along. It wound up being him, Vision, and the girls, which he certainly didn’t mind.

You and Wanda were buzzing with excitement, Natasha looking on and following behind with Steve. Vision lingered, studying everything, picking things up to get a closer look. He had projected a human disguise over himself, something Steve didn’t know he could even do, but it seemed to work. No one had batted an eye at him since they stepped foot in the shop.

“This place is…huge.” Steve said, glancing down the hall of the seemingly endless store.

“Biggest one in the state.” You chimed. “It’s the whole city block.”

“There’s a basement, too. And a second floor.” Natasha informed him, patting his arm. “This is gonna be an all day kinda thing.”

“Oh undoubtedly.” He said, setting down the teacup in his hands, a petite, floral thing.

You sifted through a box of records, picking up the soundtrack of the Muppets Movie.

“Is that a frog?”

“This is Kermit thee Frog, show some respect.” You laughed, putting the record in your basket.

“Kermit?” Steve asked again, seeming genuine.

“Oh I forgot you missed the Muppets, oh my god.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

“We need to fix that as soon as possible.” You told him. “Can’t have you missing out on cultural icons like Gonzo and Miss Piggy.”

“Okay now you’re making things up.” He chuckled, shuffling through the records as well. You showed him a few good ones and he added them to his basket, saying something about how he’s been meaning to use his new record player.

Wanda browsed some vintage rings, picking out a few, and Natasha rifled through a rack of vintage dresses, most of them from the forties and fifties from the look of it. Nat held up a navy blue one, silky, with short ruffled sleeves and buttons down the front. Steve froze, looking at it. For a moment, it looked just a little too familiar. Like the dress you had worn that night.

Eventually Nat put the dress back. You hadn’t seen it. You were distracted by a shelf of VHS tapes, looking for the old Barbie movies, whatever those were. Wanda was with you, on the next shelf over, calling out movie names when she found something cool.

Steve wandered off on his own, looking around at the different trinkets and toys, old letterman jackets and jewelry, dishes that may or may not contain lead. Finally, he came upon a little room full of art, paintings and photographs, handmade pottery.

Time stood still.

He stared at the large painting on the wall, oil on canvas. Two star-crossed lovers dancing in a bar in Brooklyn, a little guy with a dream, dancing with the most beautiful girl in the world, twirling in her dark blue dress. His heart raced. He never thought he’d see this painting again.

It had been his last painting before leaving for Camp Lehigh, the last painting he did before his life and body changed forever. He’d used the last of his paints to make it, every color mixed with care to get the exact color of your hair, your eyes, your lips, all from memory.

And it was here in front of him. When he had been presumed dead, it must have been sold off. He didn’t really have anyone left it could go to.

In that moment, he wasn’t Captain America. Standing in his shoes was that little guy from Brooklyn.

“Woah.” You murmured, suddenly right next to him. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it…it is.” He agreed, looking away from it. He didn’t want you to get too close of a look at it. However, that didn’t stop you from walking forward to inspect it closer.

“‘Soulmates.’ Artist unknown.” You read from the plaque. “Oh, it’s from the 40s. 1943. Does it look familiar?”

“Yeah, actually. Bucky liked that bar.” Steve said, pointing to the details of the interior. “It’s a little place in Brooklyn, called Val’s. Well, it was I guess. I don’t know if it’s still open anymore.”

Your eyes lingered on the woman’s face, on the man’s. You didn’t say anything about how they looked, about the uncanny resemblance to yourself and Steve. Instead, you sighed. “Someday, I want to be that in love with someone.”

He just about cried. But instead, he gathered his words, put a hand on your shoulder, and told you with confidence, “You will be.”

***

Hours later, when you were all shopped out and you’d checked out with your things, Steve stayed at the counter while the rest of you went to the car.

“Hey, um, that painting in the art room. The soulmates in the bar. I’m interested in buying it. Would it be possible to have it held here for a while, though?”

“Oh I’m sure we could arrange something,” said the old man at the counter with a smile and a nod. He started writing out the purchase form.

Steve glanced back towards where it was, that fragment of his soul he didn’t think he’d ever see again. He knew the fact that he’d stumbled upon it was nothing short of fate.

Wildest Dreams

It had been Tony’s idea. Of course it had. It always was, wasn’t it? He’d insisted that all the members of the team who hadn’t yet been exposed to Wanda’s mind manipulation should be, just in case there was a misfire during combat and one of you got caught in the crossfire. It would be important to see how each of you reacted, the kinds of things you saw so you’d be able to snap out of it.

Theoretically, of course.

This left Natasha, Steve, Thor, Bruce, and Tony out, as they’d already had their fun with Wanda’s magic. The rest of you, however, were waiting for your turn.

Wanda felt conflicted about it. She didn’t want to hurt her friends on accident, let alone on purpose, but Tony was insistent, and he had some of the others on his side. Namely, Rhodey, who had been hanging out more and more, and Clint, who’d had his experience with a different kind of mind control shortly before the Battle of New York.

It was part of why he’d volunteered to go first. Once he came to, he gave you a thumbs-up, shaking it off and walking over to Natasha.

“You sure you’re good?” She checked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal. Who’s next?”

Sam looked at you and the despondent look on your face before volunteering himself to go next. Rhodey went in solidarity, despite being too busy with his government responsibilities to be a full-time member of the team. And then it was your turn. You stood next to Wanda. She offered an apologetic smile before red crackled around her fingertips and it hit you.

For the first few seconds, you were fine. You felt tingly. You blinked a few times and your eyes felt weird. No doubt, your eyes were red, like the others’ turned when they were under the influence of Wanda’s powers.

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, voice urgent.

“Think so.” You replied, mouth full of cotton. It felt like that time in college someone had given you an edible that was too strong. The first and last time you’d ever gotten high. Like you were sinking and melting. Your legs buckled and Steve surged forward, catching you before you hit the floor, gently lowering you into a comfortable position. “Hey, you’re pretty strong…” You murmured, head lolling onto his shoulder.

The others all looked at each other. Clint dragged over a bean bag and Steve gently lowered you onto it, adjusting it so you’d be comfortable.

“She’ll be okay, Steve.” Natasha reassured him, the guilt in his eyes palpable, yet still not explained. Not entirely. She had a sneaking suspicion whatever it was had something to do with the name written on his wrist, the name he wouldn’t show anyone. Not her, not Nick Fury, not even Sam.

“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, slowly taking a step back. His eyes didn’t leave you. He had to force himself to look away. “I, um…I have to go…There’s a…” Steve motioned towards the door before leaving the room, while you sat there, catatonic, off in your own little world.

***

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, his voice close. “That was a long nap. Forget to set your alarm?”

You opened your eyes and you were laying down on the couch. Steve was standing at the island in the kitchen, cooking something. It smelled good. Really good. He was wearing a button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, still wearing his slacks from work. He had music playing from the record player, your vast collection of hits from decades of music, and he was still hooked on 40s jazz. You supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“You cooking?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded. “Come over here and get a taste.”

You followed, out to the kitchen. He set down his wooden spoon and swiftly intercepted you, pulling you up onto the countertop, kissing you deeply, a hand running through your hair. Your hand came up to frame his cheek. He was growing a bit of a beard these days. You liked it, thought it suited him.

You sighed against his lips and then pulled away to look at him. He grabbed your wrist, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. Three simple words. Steven Grant Rogers.

“I love you, doll.” His words cut through you, eyes tender and sincere. “Always have.”

But this wasn’t your Steve. And it wasn’t your reality, given away by the slightest tinge of red in his irises.

It wasn’t real. And neither was the glimmering wedding ring around your finger.

***

You blinked awake, the power dispersing from your head, leaving you shockingly sober. And hungry. That familiar sting was back, right between your neck and shoulder. You wondered how long it’d been.

Clint was in the room with you. So was Sam. Natasha was gone. Wanda too, surprisingly. As was Steve.

You got chills even thinking about him, the phantom of the wedding ring still clinging to your finger.

“You alright?” Sam asked, making eye contact with you first.

“Yeah, I’m good. How long…?”

“Three minutes. New record.” Clint said with a grin.

“Oh.” No wonder it had felt so short. Part of you wanted it to last longer.

“We’re sending Rhodey to get some food, if you’re hungry.” Sam said.

“Where from?”

“The golden arches.”

“I could go for some nuggies.” You admitted. “A McFlurry, perchance.”

Clint laughed. “How did I know you would say that?”

In the kitchen, Steve stood, hands on the counter, mug of coffee steaming in front of him, untouched. He stared at the cupboard door.

“That must be one interesting cupboard. You’ve been standing there for like five whole minutes.”

“It’s only been three.” Steve said, glancing at the clock.

“And the fact that you know down to the exact minute is why I’m so intrigued.” Natasha chimed, tilting her head. “What is going on with her? I have never seen you look at anyone like that in the entire time I’ve known you. Is she…what, the kid of an old friend? Grandkid?”

“It’s nothing, Natasha. She’s the newest member of the team, I’m just worried—”

“Steve.” She said, cutting him off, that look in her eye. “If you want to get all defensive about it, fine. Keep your secrets.” She sighed. “But if you need someone, I’m here. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Steve let out a long sigh, weighing his options. It was something to the tune of eight months until your birthday. That was still a long time. A lot of time for that secret to slip through the cracks and, potentially, break the timeline. The Butterfly Effect was something he had researched extensively. Your future together was something he wasn’t willing to risk.

No, it was too important that you stay in the dark, even if that meant keeping his friends in the dark, too.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. But I’m fine, really. It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded unconvinced. “Well, she’s out of it. Clint just texted. She wants twenty chicken nuggets and an Oreo McFlurry.”

The relief was immediate. You were okay. He could only wonder what you had seen in there, and why it had been so quick. The others had been under for upwards of ten minutes. You’d only been down three. “Well good. I’ll let Rhodey know.”

Invisible String

It was late. A few weeks after your tussle with the Scarlet Witch, if you could even call it that. You could tell Wanda felt guilty about the whole thing, but it wasn’t her fault. If anything it was Tony’s. Sure, the exercise had prepared you for a worst case scenario, but it had also dug a very awkward gap between you and Steve. You could barely even look at him without wanting to burst into tears.

He had his soulmate, whoever they were. You really needed to let it go.

You walked down to the kitchen to get a cold drink, but there was already someone sitting at the table. Steve, sitting there, hand resting on his chin, papers spread out in front of him. There was a picture you recognized as Bucky Barnes.

You’d heard whispers of him around the Compound from time to time. Steve’s best friend turned Hydra assassin, brainwashed for decades and now, rogue, out there somewhere. Sam always seemed to be looking for the guy. Natasha and Clint, too. And there had never been any sign of him. Well, until now, it seemed.

On the TV, Star Wars was playing. Empire Strikes Back. Steve looked up at it every so often.

“Star Wars?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Your first time?”

“No. They were the first things I watched when I was out of the ice. I like them a lot. The hope, the Force, the Jedi stuff, the music.” He shrugged. “They’re good.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

Steve smiled, sheepish. “Han Solo.”

“And here I thought you’d say Luke Skywalker.”

“He’s great, too. You like Star Wars?”

“Yeah, I used to be obsessed with them in high school. Haven’t seen them in a while, though. I’m something of a Leia girl myself.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Does it?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “You’ve got that spark.”

“What order did you watch them in?”

“Nat made me watch the originals first.” He confessed. “I like the prequels, though. Well, two of the prequels. Phantom Menace is…”

“Oh yeah. You’re not alone in that.” You laughed softly. “You know, I never really pegged you as a sci-fi nerd.”

“Yeah, well, someone I really care about seemed to like them a whole lot, so I knew I had to check them out.” He shrugged. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Getting a drink. What are you doing up so late?”

He looked down at the papers and then back up at you. “Oh. Yeah, this is just…Trying to get some stuff figured out.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offered.

He thought about it for a long moment, letting out a little sigh before nodding. That was the only reassurance you needed before grabbing a can of soda from the fridge and plopping down into the seat next to him.

“They found him. Clint and Natasha. They think he’s hiding out in Kentucky somewhere.” Steve said. He shook his head. “He saved my life a few years ago. After all the brainwashing, he still pulled me out of the water. I don’t know how much of him is still him, but…”

“But it’s worth a try.” You reasoned. “Obviously he’s been through a lot, but he must be pretty strong to have made it through everything.”

“I don’t know when I’m going. They haven’t narrowed it down all the way. And Tony doesn’t want me to even go at all.”

“Tony is full of shit.”

He laughed. “Yeah…”

“If you want to go, you should go. And if you need me, I’m there. You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

He met your eyes with a sobering gaze. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed. “When, uh, when I was in the eighth grade, my class took a trip down to DC. There’s a Captain America exhibit in the Air and Space Museum, it had just opened. We learned about you and Bucky. How close you were, what happened. There are videos of me just crying uncontrollably there, learning about it. They had to take me outside, get me some water. I couldn’t go back in. I don’t even know why. Something about it…”

“About me?” Steve whispered.

“That’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t have told you that.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s sweet.” Steve said, reaching for your hand on the table. You let him take it, fingers curling.

“So when you found me that day, I guess I always knew it would lead to something like this. A stroke of fate, or something.” You admitted. “Some part of me knew that you would mean something to me someday. I guess I never thought we would be friends.”

“How old were you?”

“God, this would have been like ten years ago at this point. I was like fourteen or something. I was twenty-one when they found you in the ice. It was all over the news my sophomore year of college, kind of right when I was figuring my powers out, actually. And then everything was all over the news and I…went into hiding more or less, hoping it wouldn’t be me on the TV next.”

“Until the mall?”

“Yeah. But I couldn’t just…let it happen, you know? It was like some part of me knew that I had these powers for a reason, and that if I didn’t stop it, who would? I didn’t know you were there, obviously, but, I think even if I had, I still would have jumped in.”

He smiled softly, eyes earnest. He gave your hand a squeeze. “Well I’m really glad you did, for the record. I think we’re all a little better off because of it.”

There was a moment of quiet. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“How old are you?”

“Oh, um…I’m ninety-eight.”

You chuckled. “No, like how old are you really?”

Steve took a breath. No one ever asked him that. No one really cared about that. No one except you, it seemed. “I’m not sure. I’d have to do some math. I think I’m twenty-eight maybe. Twenty-nine.”

“Thought so.” You smiled. “Well, Steve, whenever you get it figured out, say the word and I’ll suit up. We’ll bring him home.”

Out of the Woods

The next mission you were sent on wasn’t to bring back Bucky. Not yet. Instead, you were on the team that got deployed into a rainforest to break up a rogue Hydra base. It was warm, almost too warm for your uniform, but you were grateful for the coverage, especially when they started shooting.

You ran down the makeshift path, evading enemies and throwing up forcefields to stop them in their tracks. Thor was in town, so he was zipping around through the trees with his hammer, the force of it bringing some down every once in a while.

“On your six.” Steve reported through the comms. You dodged out of the way and sure enough, a Hydra agent tumbled ahead, tripped by a small field you cast at his feet. A few of Natasha’s bullets took care of that.

“Thanks.” You replied.

“Don’t mention it. I could actually use some backup. I’m in the building. There’s more of them than I thought there would be.”

“I’m on my way.” You reported, changing directions and sprinting towards the building housing the Hydra base. What they were doing here, you had no clue, but Bruce theorized it had something to do with a meteor that had landed out that way a few months prior. They were probably harvesting whatever materials had been inside it.

You kicked down the door. Steve had six guys on him, two of which he disposed of quickly. You made a portal beneath one guy, sending him falling down a flight of stairs with the second portal you opened.

The other three guys went down quickly enough, only for a guy in a giant mech armor to come crashing through the interior wall. He shot and Steve jumped in front of you, taking a hit to the neck. A tiny syringe filled with shimmering purple liquid.

“Fuck! Steve!” You ran to him, but that didn’t take care of the large problem looming behind you. Seeing red, you made another portal at the feet of the robot, opened it in the ceiling, and cut it off as it was halfway through, destroying it in a flash of sparks and shredded metal. It shut down, giving you time to get to Steve.

He was sitting against the wall, head slumped to the side. You took the syringe out of his neck, tucking it into a pouch on your belt for testing. If this thing was poison, you’d need Bruce to start whipping up an antidote as soon as possible.

“Steve, hey, stay with me.” You touched his face, trying to wake him.

At your touch, he blinked a few times, drowsy. He gave you a crooked smile. “Heyyy, there you are.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta get you back to the jet.” You told him, pulling him to his feet, but he slumped in your arms like dead weight. You had been working out since you’d been recruited, but he was still heavy. “You’ve gotta work with me, big guy.”

“They used to call me little guy.” He murmured, sounding drunk. “Back in Brooklyn.”

“I’m sure they did.” You slung his arm around your shoulders and started hauling ass out of the building. A few agents shot at you, trying to hit you while you were distracted with carrying Steve to safety, but they forgot you were the one Avenger whose specialty was defense.

You lit a forcefield in your left hand, using its faint blue light to guide the two of you through the dim hallways. It slowed all the bullets to a stop, causing them to drop to the floor harmlessly. There was something kind of poetic about it, you supposed. Steve was so famous for that shield of his, but now you were the shield, protecting him.

“Did you guys find anything in there?” Clint asked.

“The good news is, we cleared most of it out. Bad news is, Steve got shot with something. I’m bringing him back to the ship now. I don’t know what it was but he’s acting really drunk.”

“Tranq darts seem to have that effect on him, yeah.” Bruce explained. “Bring him back here and I’ll make sure it wasn’t laced with something else.”

“On it.”

You lugged Steve along, stopping to rest and readjust against a wall for a second.

“Thank you for takin’ care of me even when I don’t feel so good.” He said, leaning his full weight against you.

“Of course, Steve. I’ve got ya.” You pulled his arm around your shoulders again. “You would do the same for any of us.”

He smiled, face impossibly close to yours. “Oh, I’d do anything for you, (Y/N).”

You knew it was probably just the drugs talking but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you when he said it anyway.

Once you were outside, you opened a waypoint in front of the two of you, the second portal in front of the jet, and then stepped through, closing it behind you. Bruce opened the door and helped you haul Steve inside, onto the cot of the makeshift mobile infirmary.

You handed Bruce the empty vial.

“Thank you for remembering. Thor always breaks these and then I have to do bloodwork to figure out what was in them.” He chuckled.

“He’s very smash first, ask questions later.”

“No wonder he and Hulk get along so well.” Bruce joked. “Alright, get back out there. I’ll make sure he’s alright.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful out there.” Steve advised, eyes half-lidded. “They have guns.”

“I’ll be extra careful, alright? I promise.” You met his eyes and he smiled immediately. Once you were sure he was okay, you stepped out of the jet again, getting back to help the others.

***

When you got back, you were nursing a bullet wound. They’d gotten you in the arm. It wasn’t too bad, though, the bleeding had almost stopped. Natasha went straight for the med kit when you two stepped foot on the jet, motioning you over to the stool.

Steve was there, still on the cot. He stared as Nat started cleaning your wound. “Wait, you got hurt?”

“I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”

He nodded and reached for your hand. “I’m really glad you’re alright, doll. Had me worried sick.”

Doll. You replayed the word in your mind. Steve had called you a lot of things in the past few months, but never once had he used that somewhat outdated term of endearment. You liked it, though.

You met Natasha’s eyes and she smirked while the supersoldier held your hand.

Sam walked in next, eyeing up the scene unfolding in front of him. “Woah, what’d I miss? Feels like I missed several chapters.”

“Steve is drunk.” Clint explained, counting his remaining arrows.

“Tranq dart. He’s fine. Just needs to ride it out for a few hours. He should be back to normal by the time we get home.” Bruce explained as he put away his tablet.

“You feeling alright, buddy?” Sam walked over and put a hand on Steve’s other arm. “You’re holding (Y/N)’s hand kinda tight there.”

“Huh?” Steve asked, directing his eyes to your joint hands. He let go. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Steve.” You reassured him.

The others trickled in slowly until everyone was accounted for, the base destroyed, the Hydra operatives in SHIELD custody for questioning. Fury and his team would handle it from there. You couldn’t help but play the mission over and over in your head.

Never had you used a waypoint to split something in half. But something had clicked in you when Steve was hurt. You’d never felt like that before, like part of your soul itself was being ripped out. He meant more to you than you cared to admit, especially when your fate was tied elsewhere.

Still, your new ability needed training. It was a dangerous skill to have, and if you didn’t hone it properly, you could end up doing some serious damage on accident.

Come Find Me in the Future

It was the night before you and a select group of the team were heading out to find and recover Bucky. Clint had finally gotten a hit on him. But if he had, that meant others could be after him, too. People that wanted him back. Badly.

You were nervous about it for that reason. You weren’t sure why the rest of you hadn’t already left, to be honest. You didn’t want to race with Hydra. It wasn’t one you were sure you’d win.

To stave off the feeling of dread, you had commandeered the living room TV and popped in Howl’s Moving Castle. You were nursing a mug of chamomile tea in your hands, playing games on your Switch.

You were near the end of the movie, at the part where Sophie was whisked to the past, when Steve walked into the room, in his pajamas, a tank top and a pair of plaid pants.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hey. You’re up late. Big mission tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s almost over.” You told him. “Drinking my sleepy tea as we speak.”

“Sleepy tea?”

“Chamomile mint. It’s good. There’s some over by the Keurig if you want any.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, walking over. “What’s this?”

“Howl’s Moving Castle. One of my favorites.” You told him.

“What’s it about?”

“That is a complicated question.” You laughed. “I’d have to start it over, I think.”

“Another time, maybe.” He chuckled, crossing his arms.

Steve watched as Sophie got sucked back through the wormhole to the present.

She called out “I know how to help you now! Find me in the future!”

He perked up. “Wait, she…there’s time travel?”

“Yeah, she gets pulled into the past for a bit and tells him to find her and then years later, the first words he says to her are ‘There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ It’s really sweet.”

“They’re soulmates?”

“They are.” You nodded.

“Does that happen? Often?” Steve asked, hung up on it. “In real life?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of that happening before.” You shook your head. “I don’t think anyone would believe it, even if it did. Happens a lot in fiction, though.”

“Oh. Cool.” Steve nodded. He met your eyes and then looked down at his lap, tongue flitting across his pink lips. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “For what?”

“The mission last week. I, uh…I said some things and, uh…I just, I’d hate to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t.” You assured him. “No apology necessary. You were drugged. I probably would have said worse, to be honest.”

He smiled. “Okay. Cool. Thanks. And thank you for agreeing to come tomorrow. We could really use the help.”

“Of course. I’ve got your back, always.” You told him, earning another one of those earnest, lovesick smiles. “Anywho, I finished that playlist for you. The Taylor Swift one. I can make you a more general one with different songs, but…figured that was a decent starting place.”

“Great, yeah, thank you.” He nodded, looking at his phone as it pinged with the notification you had sent it to him. “I’ll give it a listen.”

“Let me know what you think.”

“Oh I will.” He chuckled to himself. “Really, thank you. I appreciate it. And um, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.” You saluted.

He nodded before repeating, “Bright and early.”

Bygones

Bright and early was an understatement. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when your alarm went off. You groaned, rolled over and silenced your screaming phone, forcing yourself to sit up so you didn’t drift back off.

Today was too important for that.

Instead, you got up, brushed your hair, and went out to the kitchen, where Vision had whipped up a full breakfast for everyone going out. It was you, Steve, Nat, Wanda, and Sam. A small team, but enough firepower to bring him back without overwhelming and/or scaring him off.

“Morning.” Steve said, eyes landing on you the moment you walked into the room.

“Morning.”

“Coffee?” He offered, pushing a cup of your favorite iced coffee over to you. You couldn’t lie, you were impressed.

“Thanks.” You grinned, taking a long sip to kickstart your morning. You loaded a plate up with eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast, plus a little side of hashbrowns, thanking Vision thoroughly.

“It is my pleasure, (Y/N). As someone who does not require sleep, it would be rude of me to let you all starve so early in the day.”

“(Y/N), you got him listening to Taylor Swift?” Sam asked, eyes drilling into you.

You laughed. “Uh, yeah. What about it? She’s a cultural icon, do you want him left out of the loop?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Steve shrugged, sipping on his coffee.

“Of course you’re not.” Natasha chuckled, words warbled by her own cup. You noticed the way her lips pursed. If you weren’t mistaken, you’d say she was nervous. About what, you couldn’t tell. She seldom got nervous. Or at least, she seldom let it show. But it was definitely there.

Wanda was the last into the kitchen, already fully put together. She gave the chef her thanks with a warm smile and sparkling eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. Those two, beyond a shadow of a doubt, were absolutely made for each other. You wondered what her wrist would have to say about it when the time came.

Once everyone had eaten, those who weren’t suited up got ready, locked and loaded for a tense mission. You’d have Clint on the coms here, doing recon from a drone. The rest of you loaded up onto the jet, strapping in.

Nat and Sam hopped into the cockpit. Wanda sat next to you, Steve across the aisle, his eyes meeting yours every so often.

“It’ll be alright.” You said, trying to dispel his nerves.

He nodded, but didn’t reply, just giving a short nod and staring at the holographic map on the wall as you approached closer and closer. You could see that little guy from Brooklyn peeking through the eyes of the supersoldier sitting across from you, nervous about his best friend.

You unbuckled just before you landed, walking across the jet to strap on your weapons. The others did the same, arming themselves. Nat was going to keep the jet warm for a speedy exit, the look in her eyes still unreadable. The rest of you got ready for war.

It was an abandoned warehouse, large garage door, broken windows, slanted roof with a hole in it. Definitely not the most secure of places. According to Clint’s drone, Bucky was in the back room.

“Waypoint, I need you out here ready to get us a quick escape.”

“Got it.” You nodded, positioning yourself within eyeshot of the warehouse and the jet so you could make a portal either way.

“Wanda, Sam, you’re with me.” Steve instructed, taking a minute to breathe, to think. “He’s gonna be ready to run. We have to talk him out of it.”

“Uh, Cap. Might wanna work a little faster. There’s another plane incoming. About three minutes out.”

“Alright.” Steve nodded, taking off his helmet and slinging his shield onto his back. He led the other two into the building.

For a heartwrenching two minutes, you didn’t hear anything. And then you heard a plane. And then gunshots.

“(Y/N), now!” Steve instructed.

You did as you were told, opening the waypoint in the warehouse, another just outside. Nat had picked the jet up off of the ground, firing at the one Hydra had brought. She took another shot, damaging the wing and causing it to go down.

“Shit, wait—!”

There was a flash of light and you expected it to be Steve that came through first. Maybe Bucky, even. Instead, it was a grenade. And a split second later, it exploded, knocking you unconscious.

***

Steve stood over you, horrified. Thanks to your suit, the damage didn’t seem too bad. But you had blood and soot caked on your face, the ends of your hair singed.

It was his fault. He had told you to open the Waypoint, only for a Hydra agent to toss a grenade right through it.

He all but collapsed to his knees, collecting you in his arms. Bucky was on the jet already, Sam, too. Only he and Wanda were outside with you.

“(Y/N), come on. Open those eyes for me.” He pleaded, voice soft, eyes aching with tears. “Hey, come on. Please…”

“We should get her back to the jet.” Wanda goaded softly, a hand on Steve’s arm.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. He scooped you off of the ground, an arm beneath your legs, the other around your back. Your arms hung down, limp. Your head rested heavily against his shoulder, eyes closed.

By the time Steve walked up the ramp, Nat already had the infirmary cot down, ready to go. Bucky watched, eyes intense. He looked up when Steve approached, eyes falling on you. They widened when he got a look at you.

“Woah, is that…?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “It is.”

Natasha helped him get you situated in the cot, wrapping the cuff around your arm that would measure your vitals. With everyone accounted for, Sam closed the door, lifting the jet into the air.

“I’ve got Banner on the line.” Natasha told him.

“Good.” Steve’s eyes didn’t leave you for a second, watching as the breaths entered and left your lungs. “Tell him to get the infirmary ready for her.”

“Already on it, Cap. She’ll be okay. Her vitals look…well they look good, all things considered.” Bruce relayed. “Just get back here as fast as you can.”

***

As soon as the jet landed, Steve unhooked you from the vitals monitor and collected you in his arms, carrying you to the gurney Bruce had ready, walking with him as he wheeled you towards the infirmary. Bruce insisted he needed some time and sent Steve away, taking a piece of his heart with him.

Vision checked over Bucky, giving him the okay almost immediately before going to help Bruce in the infirmary.

Steve sat at the table, Bucky sitting down to join him. The others gave them a minute alone.

“Hey, pal.” Steve exhaled, trying to force a smile. “Glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” He agreed. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course.” Steve nodded. “I’m with you—”

“Til the end of the line.” Bucky smiled, eyes soft. His irises flicked towards the infirmary and back. “You wanna talk about it?”

Steve let out a sigh, the wall finally coming down and more tears slipping down his cheeks. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. She’s—”

“She’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” Bucky’s hand grabbed onto Steve’s wrist, the covered one. The one with her name etched onto it. “She has to be. Has she…does she know yet?”

“No one does. Just me. And you.” Steve confessed. He wiped his thumb under his eye. “So you’re right. She has to pull through.”

Steve held onto that spark of hope for the coming hours. He showed Bucky to the room that had been prepared for him, but Sam offered to give him a tour of the place, knowing their friend was in a fragile mental state.

Eventually, Vision found him and told him he could enter the infirmary. Bruce had finished treating you. When Steve walked in and saw you, still unconscious, laying on that bed, he choked on more sobs. The bruising on your face was pretty severe. You were hooked up to several monitors, an IV. Supposedly, your injuries were not too extreme, but you had a cracked rib and would need time to heal before you could do any missions or training.

Hours later, Nat found Steve in there, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. He fiddled with the cuff around his wrist. The playlist you’d made for him played softly from a speaker in the corner of the room. Timeless. As if he wasn’t already crying enough.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve. Bruce thinks she might wake up soon.” Nat comforted, sitting in the chair next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, confused by her friend’s sudden mood. Members of the team had been injured before and sure, he checked on them, but he never reacted like this.

“I know, I just…” He shook his head. “I’m worried about her is all. It’s…kinda my fault this happened.”

Nat pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “This seems like a little more than that. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

He wanted to hold onto his secret. He did. But he was feeling fragile, vulnerable. It couldn’t hurt to have just one more person on his side. “I can, just…not here.” Steve nodded, leading her out of the room, out of your earshot, if you could even hear him while you were out, but still in sight thanks to the soundproof windows.

Nat’s hands settled on her hips, waiting for an answer. Instead, Steve took the cuff off of his wrist and held it out to her, letting her read the letters that had been etched there for the better part of a century.

Her jaw dropped. She stammered, arms crossing. She met his eyes and when she saw the sadness there, the guilt and longing, her expression softened.

“I should have told her. A long time ago, I should have told her but I can’t. In six months, on her twenty-fifth, she’s going back in time to 1943 to meet me on mine. And it…didn’t seem like she knew until she was already there.”

“So you’ve just been holding it in this whole time?” Natasha asked. “You’ve been in love with her…”

“Since the forties, yeah.” Steve nodded. “My great lost love, as Tony likes to call her when he rags on the band I wear.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Just you. And Bucky.” Steve amended. “He was there when she…”

“Right. Weird.” Natasha let out a long sigh, looking through the window. Her fingers reached for her own cuff. She hesitated, but pulled it off, holding her soulmark out to him. “Fair is fair.”

Steve stared at the letters for a long time, realization slowly filling his eyes. The name on her wrist was none other than James Buchannan Barnes. “Oh my God.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you until all the dust settled, but it just settled, so…” She shrugged, putting the cuff back on. “I’ll figure out how to tell him, too, if he doesn’t know already.”

“Buck’s mark was grayed out back then. We thought…well, we didn’t know what it meant.” Steve said, shaking his head. It was the reason Bucky had dated around so much back then. He’d figured if he just found someone else, his mark would change and he wouldn’t have to be alone. Never could he have guessed what it actually meant, that his soulmate wouldn’t be born for another forty or so years. “And then he lost his arm…”

“Yeah, that part I did know.” She smirked. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on her. Let you know if she says anything you need to hear.”

“She probably thinks my soulmate is dead, too. Everyone else does.”

“Ironic.”

“No kidding.” Steve sighed, gazing longingly through the window.

“We’ll get you through it, Steve. You’ve waited seventy years. Six months is nothing.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna sit with her for a while. I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

He slinked back into the infirmary and sat in the chair beside your bed, watching your steady breaths and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. Natasha watched him through the window, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time. Nevertheless, she was glad they had talked. At least now, they could be there for each other.

Vol. 2 Here

Tags: @cap-lu20

[moonlight-hwa]

Fic Recommendations (Pt. 1 Ateez)

Hello, everyone so I just had the thought that I’d share some of my favorite Ateez fics that I’ve read, right here on Tumblr and also on Wattpad (because Wattpad gets way to bad of a rep when it’s comes to fanfics).

Side note some might be mature, those will be labeled with a ‘M’

Tumblr:

(M) Midnight Kisses by @mingigoo

I have read this fic at least five times now. This is probably my top fav Wooyoung fic, I love it so freaking much. It’s also friends to lovers which I think is absolutely perfect for Wooyoung and also a single parent au.

Midnight Kisses is definitely my comfort fic and I cry every single time I read it…this fanfic has my entire heart💗

(M) Mists of Celeste by @hongism

The ultimate Ateez fantasy/scifi fic. The world building is magnificent and just pulls you right into the world that the author is creating.

In conclusion absolutely freaking incredible, highly recommend…like very highly recommend, you won’t regret it.

Take Me Home & Horizon by @sorryimananti-romantic

More Ateez fantasy fics (you’re gonna see a lot of those on this list). Again world building *chef’s kiss*

Also they’re faerie Princes…yes please sign me up. Also, also they’re Seonghwa and San fics, so double sign me up.

Anyway, I just love Ateez fantasy fanfics so much, they’re so good and so incredibly written, these two are for sure up there for me, love them so much💗

(M) Golden Hour & Safe and San by @hwaightme

Both San fics, but are we surprised…no, absolutely not.

The hopeless romantic in me loses it every time I read these fics, these two fics have everything I love about fanfics, especially in terms of smut. Just so romantic, fluffy and domestic…ugghhhhh I just love these so much.

So these are for you…my fellow hopeless romantics💗

(M) Wildfire by @hwaslayer

I literally love this fic with my entire being and also my fav San fic…like ever, so another definite must read💗💗

Also grab your tissues because this is about to be a rollercoaster (but it’s worth it, I promise)

Wattpad:

Pray for the Wicked by YunhoWho

This is another one for my hopeless romantics out there. There are literally no words to describe how much I love this fanfic, this is the same thing with Midnight Kisses…I’ve it read so many times but I don’t think I will ever grow tired of it.

This is one of my favorite Hongjoong fics…like ever. Also did I mention that this an angel x demon fic? And also the fact that Hongjoong is so utterly down bad and absolutely in love with mc? Because I’m telling you some of things that he had said in this fic, had me screaming in my pillow and giggling.

Anyway, I could go on and on about Pray for the Wicked…but I’m not. Just go read it, I’m begging you, I promise you won’t regret it.

Coast & Hearts Awaken by staryng

One a pirate au and the other a royalty au, yes please…this is what I love most when it comes to fan fiction, especially for Ateez.

Also warning if you plan to read Hearts Awaken (which you definitely should) prepare to have your heart ripped from your chest.

But if you don’t want to have your heart ripped from your chest, Coast is a little more light hearted…but it still has its moments. I still recommend that you read both because they’re incredible and I love them💗

Adrift by saverics

If you want a fanfic that doesn’t feel like a fanfic, then this is the fic for you. It literally feels like I went to the library and picked it from the shelves.

It is so incredibly well written (again it doesn’t feel like reading a fanfic) and the story line is immaculate. A definite must read💗💗

Ishihara & Kintsugi by dreamperfection

Ateez fantasy au pt. 29371619, with an absolutely incredible story line and as well as incredible world building. Another must read, you won’t regret it

Stardust by beazibo

Soulmate au with the craziest plot twist. Again just incredible, so much fun to read and I may have cried.

I just love soulmate aus so freaking much💗💗

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 12

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 12: bad memories

TRIGGER WARNING: strong mentions of sexual assault

Author’s note:

The next few chapters might be a bit dark but they have to be in order to move the story in the direction I want. I’ll be writing a summary in the footnote for anyone who wants to skip this part. Keep in mind, I’m writing this story for myself as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I started taking my magic training into my own hands.

When Alastor was busy doing one of his many radio broadcasts, I was in the library searching through the various books. Husker sat on the window seat with a bottle of alcohol, listening to my random mumbles. I wasn't really talking to him but every now and then he made a comment to kickstart my thoughts again.

I had books laid out on all the tables and chairs. Surely this shouldn't be hard to figure out and Husker had to have some insight to it. So I started with something simple: turning water into ice. I read the books on water magic and read about some of the science behind it. Water molecules start to move slower and stick together. So it was just very condensed water.

Husker watched me fail the first time and splash water on myself. I casted a cup on him and he jumped from his seat with a hiss and hair sticking up. The second time I half succeeded. The water in the cup solidified into water for a moment before instantly melting. I tried a few more times until it stayed as ice without melting.

I put the cup down and tried something different. I casted the water out of the glass and twirled it into a constantly moving ball of water in my palm. I already knew how to control water from my fighting days so this part wasn't hard. I cupped my hand over the moving ball and imagined it slowing down until it was a frozen cluster. I felt it weigh down on my hand but forced myself to focus until I was sure that it had turned completely into ice.

Pulling my hand back, I revealed a perfect sphere of ice.

"Nice job," Husker congratulated in his own grumpy way. This felt like the first big step as the rest of my experiments started to work on the second try. I combined water and fire to create steam and filled the room with it, quickly sending it out the window before it ruined the books. Telekinesis was my next easy experiment.

I could draw the curtains and slam the doors like Alastor did. I could move chairs and tables around and put books back on their shelf. I laughed as I put the library back to its original state, paper and books flying past me. They all slid back into place and I planted my hands on my hips. I had done it.

"Impressive."

I bristled at Alastor's voice, turning to face the Radio Demon with a scowl. I noticed the fowl aura of hatred coming from Husker. Picking up on emotions became easy thanks to my keen sense of smell. Alastor remained a concrete wall.

"Rosie will be arriving shortly. I thought you might want to actually prepare yourself this time."

I crossed my arms. "I'm always prepared to deal with you so I think I will be alright."

His cold presence ran down my spine and I shivered. "Are you so sure?"

I raised my body temperature and pushed back against him. His eyes narrowed at me despite my inability to remove him completely from my mind. Our shadows growled at each other on the wall.

During the session with Rosie, she taught me to build another shield outside the one I already had. Once I had built two new shields, she attempted to push through. At first it was easy to keep her away but then she grew more aggressive. I was shocked at the sudden aggression from the sweet lady, my shields wavering but never falling. My fear had only reinforced the shields more.

"Outstanding!" she said at last, clapping her hands. I was out of breath as I clung to the seat. These sessions always left me so tired and ragged. Though it made me feel better when I saw her dab at her forehead with a handkerchief. "Now, take a quick break before we start the next thing. Get some fresh air, dearie."

I was expecting to be done for the day. When she didn't take her eyes off me I took that as my cue to leave the room. I had just barely closed the door when I heard her say something softly to Alastor. My nerves went through the roof.

Husker stood outside the kitchen door with me. The snow was starting to melt away, revealing little patches of grass here and there. The sun was setting into the ocean, casting a gently orange glow against the house.

"You'll be fine. You've managed through everything else so far," Husker tried to reassure me. My nerves seemed to only worsen with every passing minute. I kept fiddling with my claws and tapping my tail on the ground.

Eventually, Rosie called me in. The chairs had been pulled close again and a pitcher of water sat on a table nearby. Alastor waited patiently in one of the chairs, hands folded properly in his lap. His smile didn't seem genuine as Rosie led me to one of the chairs.

"Now dear, we're going to go through one of your more difficult memories. I want you to practice pulling yourself out of a memory when you're afraid. You'll have to learn to control your emotions to pull yourself out. Do you think you can do that?"

I nodded and swallowed hard. I wondered why Alastor was sitting close to me but then I remembered that he had been the one to pull me out of the dark memory of Striker that fateful day.

"Pick one of your worst memories."

I took a slow, deep breath and closed my eyes. I fell into my memories with my various shields still in place. I was only watching the memory, not partaking in it. I tried to keep my heart from speeding up too much as the memory unfolded.

My hardest fight yet was against an adult. They had a crazed look on their face, a look of fear, desperation, starvation, and a lack of humanity. He acted like an animal as he chased after me in the ring. He broke my wrist and leg before I managed to dig my fingers into his eye sockets and end his life with a punch to the throat.

Something sweet filled my nose but I didn't pay it any attention.

Striker yelled and lectured me as I had my wrist and leg wrapped by the healer. He had a heavy, painful grip on my shoulder as he led me back to my cage. He slammed the cage door shut and stormed out. Not too long after, someone else opened my cage door.

They slammed something into my face, momentarily shocking me. I came to as they strapped a magic-reducing helmet to my head. The dark figure loomed over and started grabbing at me. I screamed for help but he stuffed a gag into my mouth.

"Come out of it, sweetheart." Rosie called.

I tried to relax but the panic was too much. I didn’t recognize this memory. Was it another attack?

I fought against them but my injuries made it nearly impossible. Tears streamed down at my face as I screamed my throat hoarse. I raked my nails down any inch of skin I could find.

"Sweetheart, now. You have to come out."

The corners of the room grew dark until I was staring at nothing but the man's face. I reached for his eyes many times but he kept pushing them away. I choked on the helplessness and fear until everything around me was pitch black.

I was standing now. Someone was calling for me but it was faint, too faint. I looked around at the darkness. I spun around in circles, strangely calm, and stared at nothing. I was just here. Existing, but not. Was I still in my mind? Surely I had to be.

A cold feather brushed against my cheek. I turned but there was no one there. It happened again but on my neck. It spread from there, reaching into my brain and down through my entire body. I was freezing all of a sudden. There was nothing to keep me warm so I wrapped my arms around myself.

Then I sensed three presences. I recognized Husker's first. It was warm and calm, but a hint of panic. Why was he panicking? What was wrong?

Next I recognized Alastor's. He was inside my head unlike Husker who was surrounding my body.

Then I recognized Rosie's presence. Hers was kind but firm. She also seemed to be panicked. Why was everyone panicking? Was something happening?

The black environment turned red as anger filled my chest. I was furious. I don't know what at but I needed to release it. I wanted to claw something, to kill someone. I wanted to slice someone's throat who caused people nothing but harm. They deserved to leave this world and being thrown into Hell to be eaten by the Demons who lived there.

I felt someone pulling on me. My legs slid out from under me and I was lying on my back, still angry. Then the anger slipped from my fingertips, quickly replaced by fear. The man's face appeared out of the red wall and I found myself trapped under him again. I choked on my fear and gag as I fought him. I tried throwing my weight around but he was far too heavy. I felt him bite down on my neck.

Not this. Not this. Not this. Not this. Please! NOT THIS!

I recognized the memory.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled it hard. He yelled as I dug my fingers into his eyes like my previous opponent. He grabbed both wrists and slammed them hard into the cage floor. My legs weren't working. Why wouldn't they work?

"Come out of it," I heard Husker yell.

"Sweetheart it's a memory. It's not actually happening," Rosie said.

I cried as the memory continued. I bit down on the man's hand but he just pulled my hands further away from my face. I tried curling in on myself but it did nothing. His other hand moved roughly over my skin as I screamed into the gag.

I felt Alastor's presence come from behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut and dipped into my mindscape. "Alastor!" I yelled as the memory dragged me back through my shields. I felt his presence wrap around my head and saw nothing but red. It felt like a string was being pulled out of my ear as he pushed me into the safety of my shields.

"You're safe. Come out of your head," he instructed.

I closed my eyes, pushing away the forbidden memory, and opened my eyes to the library. All three of them were surrounding me, staring down with panic-stricken faces. Alastor opened his eyes and took his hand from my forehead. His eyebrows were the only thing that told me he was upset.

Husker pulled me up to a sitting position as Rosie practically shoved a glass of water down my throat. I took several moments to catch my breath, the two of them trying to help calm me. I stared at the carpet and tried to think of anything other than that horrid memory. I didn’t know I even had that memory.

"You're back, and you're safe," Husker said, holding out his paw. I took it and let him help me into a chair. I leaned back into the seat and looked around at the dark library. I was back in the house. I was safe. Relatively.

"What happened?" I asked, still out of breath.

"You visited a...terrible memory that you couldn't pull out of," Rosie answered. "I was expecting you to use the same memory as last time. I wasn't expecting that."

"I didn't...that wasn't...that was a memory I had blocked away. I've never...I haven't been able to remember that night in years...so...why could I this time?"

Rosie went quiet and looked over at Alastor. He stood staring out one of the windows with his arms folded behind him. When enough silence had passed, he finally turned to look at me. "We used the same drug that was used on you the night it first happened."

"What?” My voice bounced off the walls. “What drug?“

"You had a small amount that night," he walked over to us, "It's a common drug used by a certain Demon to control their victims." He paused. "We thought you might be ready for another dose, but I can see we were mistaken. We rushed the process."

"Did..." I slowly looked over at Rosie, "did everyone...see it? The memory?"

"I'm afraid so, darling. We had to when we tried to pull you back out."

I lowered my head to stare at the floor. My clawed feet were just as black as before. If I had this side of me my whole life, I could've avoided it. I could've saved myself. Instead, here I was learning mind magic and revealing everything to three random Demons.

My throat tightened and tears started to well in my eyes. I abruptly left the room. I went to my bedroom, locked the door, then into the bathroom and locked that one too. I curled up in the corner of the room between the bathtub and the shower...and broke down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s summary:

Reader attempts mind magic again. When she visits a difficult memory, Alastor holds a memory-controlling-drug up to her nose. This creates more of a challenge for her and ends up sending her into a memory she had blocked away. She barely manages to pull herself out, if it wasn’t for Alastor and the others helping.

[stir-crazy-au-blog]

Stir Crazy Au; Part: 2 Birds of a Feather Flock Together

This is Henry's introduction to the lore and also his wife WHO plays a much bigger part then before and will need her own post oh god mary ann im sorry girl we are we are going through it tonight.

Meet Henry Emily, local 12 year old boy who's just one of the many outcasts in a big city school (insert whatever state I pick later Maybe Missouri) Meet Henry Emily's history teacher who is about to change this kids life forever. Debatable if it's for the better or for worse. As you can expect Henry is bullied, and bullied hard. It's the 50's and his last name is Emily so ofc he's having all the slurs thrown at him along with rocks. He doesn't know what he did wrong, or how he can change it, he tries to change it but things just seem to stay the same no matter the age. So, his history teacher in a form of support points Henry, and his parents to a pen pal program. This is where Henry meets his best friend, maybe even some (I am some) would dare to say platonic soulmate, William Afton.

Unlike what this opening suggests they are far from friends when the letter writing first starts out. Will is being forced to write these letters for an English project, and does what every pissed off 12 year old does when they are forced to do something they don't like. He complains about it. A lot. Basically baiting Henry into an argument as a way to try to make up an excuse for why he can't do the project. (can't do the project if the person writing you is mad an uncooperative, right?) and boy howdy do words fly. This time it's a mix of biting witt, (as much wit as you can get from kids) Slurs (its the 50's idk what you expected not to mention kids don't know how deep slurs are they're kids repeating stuff that they just know is bad words to get a reaction out of someone an to be seen as grown up) the most baseless name calling and idiotic reasoning for a grudge you have ever seen. Now, dear reader of this post you may ask... "But- but why would Henry keep writing back, he was looking for a friend. Wouldn't he just quit and try to get connected to someone else."

To that I say simply this: William just so happened to be the straw that broke the camels back. As you can imagine this is YEARS of pent up rage and upset coming out of him after so long directed at a person who can take it and still comes back. (Granted he's forced to write back in these beginning letters but I digress.) During one of their many letter fights William mentions something that Henry has never heard of before (some British slang probs) which stops him in his tracks leading him to ask questions. Will replies in turn and suddenly this argumentative back and forth letter writing that had been going on for at least three months turns into a civil conversation. They simply seem to forget what they where doing lost in the interest of just how different the other's life is.

They both really want to meet each other in person but both parents are hesitant for different reasons. Also it doesn’t help the cost of tickets either way is expensive… So the two just have to be content with writing one another and sending pictures of each other. Now while the two aren’t on similar levels of…. Freak. Henry does have some less than stellar traits himself like the fact he finds no issue in recording someone who isn’t aware as long as it’s deemed for their safety. He’s pretty much able to wave some morals/respecting privacy if he thinks what he’s doing is way more important and will actively protect the other. Maybe a tad bit of stalking, but not as bad as William. He is NOT climbing through unlocked windows to get to his romantic interest. But, he would be following them around work/campus and constantly trying to talk to them, writing down notes of things they liked. Henry please….. Will and Henry probably talk about their lovers document- well actually more like Will does because when Henry talks about the doc he has on Mary Ann Will gets weirdly quiet and it gets weird (it’s because he hates that it’s not him </3) Mary Ann obviously doesn’t know Henry has this doc about her and she would most likely throw up and cry if she did. Now, to the bit I have been dying to write. Hehheeh- So, unlike Will who basically dropped everything and got married to his... 'girlfriend' is a questionable title since they weren’t dating before they decided to get married but okay… (They don’t get married until they reach America but forget all that we are here for MARY ANN.) Henry, has been dating Mary Ann ever since High School. They were high school sweethearts (church sweethearts) and before he left for college he proposed. She said yes, and the two agreed to get married after he finishes school. The issue? Henry had some… eye opening experiences at college, one of them being he realized he likes men. (Bisexual king) This weighs heavily on him since he’s not sure what Mary Ann would think about it. He lives on his own in an apartment and is going through said life crisis until he ignores it in favor of the fact William just showed up on his doorstep. But, even after the joy of meeting his best friend in person the issues still stand and it can’t be ignored forever.

Henry comes to the bright (no it’s not) conclusion that while he’s learned something new about himself he still very much loves Mary Ann and still wants to marry her. Just, maybe not right after college. William is cheering his head off (mentally) while Mary Ann grows more annoyed, and a bit scared of the thought of Henry leaving her. Not out of a place of love, though she tries to trick herself into believing it is, but from the fear of being seen as impure, as a woman thrown to the side, someone used where it will be harder for her to find a husband because of it. So, this turns into eight years where the church and his and her family are annoyed by it, and Henry keeps finding ways to push it off. (William tries to sabotage their relationship and fails) Mary Ann during these long eight years gets twitchy, worried that her perfect wedding, with a house an white picket fence an 1 child will be dashed away. What’s not helping her anxiety is the fact that everyone at church has something to say about the situation. There's an equal mix of people being blunt while others are passive aggressive with her to tear down her self esteem and belittle her. The pressure she’s being put under is mounting, she keeps getting treated badly at church for her unmarried status to the point she does something DEEPLY unthinkable to speed up the process. It goes against her religion, and everything she was taught. She has sex with Henry out of wedlock. She grieves after it, she feels tainted, impure. (There is so much to unpack from that babe) But, it had to be done in her eyes. Her plan was to claim she’s pregnant to rush the wedding as no one wants to have a baby out of wedlock. Her plan goes on without a hitch and the two finally get married. William hates every second of the ceremony. <3  The only issue was the pretend miscarriage but surprisingly William helped in that regard. And, by helped I mean he was a clingy little asshole and kept drawing Henry’s attention away from her (which he felt suuper guilty about post her ‘miscarriage’ feeling like it was his fault but babe it’s all fake I wonder if I should let him find that out that’d be pretty cool) Of course she can’t stay childless forever but the idea of having children is… daunting.

She won’t admit it to herself, but she doesn’t want to have any children.

10/6/24

[cantstoptheimagines]

Curador (Muerte | Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)

Series Masterlist 

Summary — Muerte aches at the sight of you whenever he comes home.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Soulmate AU; helping a lover with their injuries (includes mentions of blood); established relationship; takes place directly after the movie; writers’ law states that every time an animated wolf comes into existence, I must write a fic; in my opinion, we should be calling him ‘Muerte’, so that’s what I’m going with; a huge thank you to my dear friend, Yoshino, for helping me with the Spanish translations.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 639. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ You will receive the same injuries as your soulmate (unless deadly).  ➳ Since Muerte is Death (straight up), why not make Life? I envision the Reader in this to be a spotted deer, who will be referred to as ‘Vida’. And who knows? I might turn this into a one-shot series if people enjoy it enough. Let me know what you think! 

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  

The slamming of a door made your ears twitch. You paused, eyes narrowing as you listened to the creaking floors within your home. A damp cloth was pressed against the corner of your lip, dotted with small specks of blood. 

Footsteps slowly grew closer to your room. A quiet sigh escaped your lips when you realized who they belonged to. Having a lover with nearly silent movements did nothing but cause you panic sometimes. 

You returned your attention to the small mirror in your grasp. A shadow moved about the room and a cloak was tossed next to you on the bed. Looking up at the towering figure in front of you, your gaze found red eyes staring back at you. More specifically, staring at the cloth against your lip. 

“El gato lives,” he muttered, his deep voice sending shivers along your spine. “I have given him another opportunity to prove himself.” 

A small smile made itself known, “Is that why your attitude seems so foul?”

He hummed quietly, ignoring your teasing remark about the infamous Puss in Boots, whom he had been chasing for some time now. His startling eyes were still zeroed in on the cloth. 

“You really need to stop playing with your food, Muerte.” 

His eyes snapped to yours. They narrowed into slits, shining with irritation. He snapped his jaws to the side, huffing loudly as he looked away from you. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing quietly.

His claws wrapped around the hilt of one of his sickles. The mirror was quickly tugged away from you and tossed onto the bed. Your head was forced to tilt backwards as the sickle’s sharp blade was placed beneath your chin. 

Anyone else may have had fear coursing through their veins. You, however, weren’t worried at all. 

Muerte stepped closer until his paw could replace the blade. The sickle was quickly returned to its sheath while he looked down at you with a blank expression. You allowed him to tilt your head back even further as he took up the space between your thighs.

“Cállate, Vida,” he ordered.

His claws wrapped around the cloth, finally removing it from your lip. It, much like his cloak and your mirror, quickly disappeared from sight. Your injury reflected his own, signaling to the world that the two of you were a perfect pair. 

“It hurt when you got it,” you said. “I wasn’t expecting it.” 

His expression softened. You leaned into his touch as one of his claws caressed your cheek.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he muttered.

You gave him a small smile, along with a shrug of the shoulders, in an attempt to make him feel better, “It’s okay. No harm truly done.”

His grip loosened, allowing you to take his paw into your grasp and hold it in your lap instead. He lowered himself to his knees. Due to his tall stature, kneeling allowed his gaze to become even with your own as you sat on the bed.

“Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso,” he continued. “Por tu bien.” 

“I don’t,” you replied, squeezing his paw tightly. 

His brow furrowed and his eyes searched for any sign that you may have been lying to comfort him, “Mi corazón—” 

“It lets me know you’re still there,” you whispered. “It lets me know you’ll be coming home soon.” 

He tried to hide a smile, looking away from you. That only lasted for mere seconds, however, since he couldn’t resist your gaze for very long. His red eyes explored your features. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the cut on your lip. 

“Déjame ser tu curador,” he muttered, and then he kissed you again.

“Always, Muerte,” you whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek and pressing a gentle kiss against his nose. “Always.” 

Spanish Translations, In Order of Appearance: ➳ Curador (de enfermos) — Meaning “healer (of the sick)”.  ➳ Muerte — Meaning “death”. ➳ Vida — Meaning “life”.

➳ “El gato...” — “The cat...” ➳ “Cállate...” — “Shut up...” ➳ “Lo siento, mi amor.” — “I’m sorry, my love.”  ➳ “Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso... Por tu bien.” — “I wish we had a less painful bond... For your sake.” ➳ “Mi corazón...” — “My heart...”  ➳ “Déjame ser tu curador.” — “Let me be your healer.” 

[violetsiren90]

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 2 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon x f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; Talk and depictions of cancer, its treatment, and the symptoms of both; implication of some disregard for personal agency by entertainment and medical industries; MC is diagnosed with asthma and experiences symptoms; flashbacks of a distressing situation; soulmate first touch & subsequent skinship; partial disrobing for medical purposes; medical setting and minor treatments; some social awkwardness; talk of food, eating, and alcohol consumption in the context of a soulmate AU

Author's Note: Chapter 2 is here! I tried my best to write Namjoon's response under the circumstances, but honestly I don't know how well it was executed. Let me know what you think in the comments/asks! I'm super open to constructive criticism and feedback. Also, I did my best with the Korean phrases and medical jargon. If anyone has more extensive knowledge on those subjects and wants to fact-check, please let me know!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.”

~ Pablo Neruda

Chapter 2: Touching Me, Touching You

    When you touched down at Incheon International Airport, you and Matt were greeted by a rather unnecessarily large party of Hybe personnel in black plainclothes wearing masks who snatched up your baggage and ushered you into the first of a small fleet of black SUV's. The member of the legal advisory team who had visited you in the states, Choi Kang Dae, was riding shotgun and speaking into a cell phone that had not left his ear since departing the baggage claim. In the row behind you was another man you assumed to be a translator, given his fluency in English, but who was currently chopping it up with Matt in Korean, and beside him a large, serious, silent man whose eyes kept traveling to you every now and again. You assumed that meant that the rest of the ensemble filling the vehicles behind you were security, which somehow made you feel less rather than more at ease.

The further you advanced in traffic through the busy streets of Seoul, the more anxious you became. A thousand questions began to flood your brain as your heart began to hammer in your chest. If all these people had come to meet you, were you headed to the hospital now? Weren't you supposed stop at your accommodations first? If you didn't, would you even have a chance to shower a day's worth of airport off before meeting your soulmate? Were you about to bond right now? Would people be watching? Would it hurt? Why hadn't you ever thought of these things before? You felt a familiar tightness in your chest and pulled out your inhaler. An asthma attack right now? They always seemed to strike at the most inopportune times.

Matt was suddenly turning to you.

    "Hey, you okay?" he asked, looking at the inhaler you were shaking for a second puff.

You slowly exhaled and nodded.

    "I'm fine. But where are we going right now, can you ask them?"

The translator asked the Kang Dae something in Korean, and after he responded, the other man turned to you.

    "We're going to the hospital. Namjoon-ssi had a seizure last night due to a prolonged high-grade fever, so we are trying to act as quickly as possible to avoid further complications."

Matt turned to the translator.

    "This should have been the first thing we heard when we stepped off that plane. I'm not trying to play hardball here, but we're going to have to be communicated with about every step of this process so we can decide how we're going to respond. This was in the contract, communication and a chance to speak with me before she makes any step in this process..."

Matt slipped in and out of English as the attorney apologetically reassured him through the translator of their full intent to follow the contractual specifications. You felt sick, and your heart continued to hammer - though now for different reasons. You had been worried about a shower while he was fighting for his life. This was no time for nerves. You had to fight for his life too.

    When the vehicle pulled into the ambulance bay, you and Matt were handed surgical masks and ushered, with security and other Hybe personnel in tow, through the ICU and into a massive steel elevator. You watched the round button number "5" light up red as Kang Dae pushed it with a gloved hand. After the brief assent, the doors opened into a space that looked like it was straight out of a Star Trek episode - floor to ceiling white, blinding fluorescent lights, and hospital workers covered from head to toe in sterile garments ebbing and flowing in urgent silence to and fro to the rhythmic serenading hums and beeps of medical equipment. You blinked in the offending brightness.

Your party was immediately approached by a small woman with a tablet and stylus who addressed Kang Dae. You heard your name mentioned. You heard Matt's. After a brief exchange with the Hybe attorney, Matt relayed that you were going to meet with Namjoon's oncologist. Kang Dae turned to address the security staff, and his words were met with nods and murmurs of acknowledgment except by the tall, serious man from the SUV, who responded to the attorney in a low but firm tone, his eyes flashing over to you as he spoke. You looked over to Matt, your brow creased in question. He watched as Kang Dae concluded the exchange and lead your now small group of four to follow the petite woman down a long, wide hall. As you walked, Matt leaned down to whisper in your ear.

    "It appears the indignant gentleman is your personal bodyguard. Seems he's reluctant to stay behind with the rest of security."

You glanced in surprised curiosity over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of the guard seated beside the rest of the team, elbows propped on his knees and hands clasped under his chin, a pensive expression on his rugged features, before he disappeared from view as you rounded a bend.

    The hall connected to a labyrinth of others, snaking off left and right, and punctuated with massive, heavy doors. Your guide abruptly swung left to face one of the entrees, flashing a badge card across a sensor which beeped, allowing her to push it inward. It opened into a suite of rooms much homier than the atmosphere behind you, though every bit as sterile.

In the vestibule was a small acrylic table surrounded by matching chairs. As you passed through you noted to the right, a small kitchenette, and to the left a rather large bathroom. At the end of the suite, you shuffled into a large room, separated on the far left end by a curtain. The space in which you stood was fitted with grey leather furniture, a tall bamboo plant in the corner, and a low acrylic coffee-table. An older, distinguished looking man in a white jacket stood from where he had been seated in one of the arm chairs and bowed. Your group bowed in return, and the translator asked that you be seated.

Dr. Na, as the man in the coat was introduced, would run through some last matters with you before you were to meet your soulmate. He relayed through the translator that this hospital was state of the art, Korea's finest, and a frontrunner in successful experimental treatments for cancer and other genetic diseases. The room you were occupying, he said, was a suite meant for long-term inpatient care, and would be nearly identical to the space you would share with Namjoon for the remainder of his inpatient treatment. He explained that Namjoon's condition has been detected far later than was desirable, and that treatments had included invasive surgery and aggressive rounds of chemotherapy, which had slowed, but not stopped the spread of tumors throughout his body. He said that Namjoon had displayed extreme physical and emotional resilience, but that his will to fight the disease overtaking his body had begun to wane with his strength and increasingly burdensome symptoms from both the cancer and its treatment.

At this point, Dr. Na turned to face Matt full on, and earnestly imparted to him while gesticulating at you. Matt's brow furrowed, and he nodded as he listened to the oncologist before turning serious eyes toward you. Kang Dae began to say something, but the doctor held up his hand while also turning his eyes toward you with an expectant gaze. 

    "Y/n," Matt began, interlacing his fingers as he often did when trying to choose his words carefully, "Dr. Na says that there is not a lot of research around treating cancer, especially at such an advanced stage, with the soulmate bond. There are accounts of it having seemingly miraculous effects on injury and illness, but none that have been objectively measured. It has been scientifically proven to a degree that soulmates bring about peak physical conditions in one another through the bond...over time. The thing the good doctor here really wants you to understand is that there is no guarantee that there is enough time in our situation. He says that bonding with him is going to be a major risk. If the treatment isn't successful and Namjoon should pass, that would mean your ultimate death soon after."

Matt's face had lost most of its stoicism. He looked deeply worried. He looked like he wanted you to get on a plane with him back to the States. He looked like he knew what you were going to do instead. You see, you had already thought about it - the possibility of death. You nodded.

     "Tell him I understand, Matt," you said calmly, "Tell him I'd like to meet Namjoon-ssi."

Matt stared at you for a beat, as if debating with himself before turning back to relay your message to Dr. Na. The oncologist nodded, and then turned to you and asked another question in Korean. The translator explained that the doctor wanted to know if you understood the basic implications of the soul-bond. You sighed. You did.  You knew that once bonded you would be reliant on each other for nourishment and survival until the end of your natural lives, and that the bond once established was irreversible. You knew the bond was initiated and maintained through skin-to-skin contact. You knew that the bond changed your body chemistry to no longer need food or water, and that food would eventually be rejected by the body like poison. You knew these things because you had done extensive research, not because anyone in the company asking for you to give over your body and soul had tried to make you aware. They had been interested in matters of signatures and compensation. How considerate of someone to ask you now, you thought with some contempt. You wondered what Namjoon knew, what he had been told, what he had been asked. 

     "I would like to meet my soulmate now," you said suddenly, cutting through the exchange between Dr. Na and Kang Dae.

All eyes turned on you, leaving in half-finished sentences a wake of mild surprise. "I know what I'm getting into on my end of things. You had expressed before that time was of the essence and I would like to be brought to him now."

Matt relayed your response to the group, and the doctor nodded. Soon you were being handed a hospital gown, and a sports bra, underwear, and socks from your suitcase - that you realized with a bit of alarm and indignation, you had not given anyone permission to retrieve - and were instructed to shower and change into these items. 

     You slipped into the bathroom and sank down on the closed toilet, dropping your head onto the little bundle of clothes in your arms.  In your first few moments alone in over twenty-four hours, everything was beginning to hit like a volley of arrows. Agendas, agendas. Hybe wanted your soulmate. The hospital wanted to beat his cancer. You wanted to help him live. But what did he want? Had anyone asked? Would he be honest, if they did? Not for the first time, something squeezed in your chest at the thought of him. But this time, it was stronger. Your head shot up from your lap. You had somewhere to be.

    After a quick and thorough wash-up, you padded into the hall where the little group awaited you. You were self-conscious in your limited attire, and you stood awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the next as people murmured in Korean. A nurse, who had joined the small throng, approached you, slipping a hospital bracelet with your name and Hangul characters and little numbers around your wrist and handing you a pair of grey slippers. Matt turned to you.

    "This is it, kiddo. You're going to go with Dr. Na and have your vitals taken, have some blood drawn, and then you'll go meet him."

Matt sighed deeply, his eyes searching yours. He took a backward glance and stepped just a bit closer, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You sure about this?"

You nodded.

    "Yes, Matt, I'm sure."

He pulled his mouth in into a tense line, his brows drawing together.

    "That face you're making, that defiance in your eyes," his hand fell from your shoulder, "You could be his twin. I know I can't change your mind now. Nothing could."

You gave a knowing smile. He wasn't wrong. 

    "I'm gonna be okay, Matt. I'll see you tomorrow. Call my mom and tell her things went fine. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Matt scratched the back of his head, regarding you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. He bent to press a kiss to your forehead, and turned to make his polite goodbyes.

    The nurse ushered you down the hall and into a room that looked a little more like a typical hospital room with a gauze-covered table, a scale, and other vaguely familiar machines and equipment. After she had collected the desired data and taken a vial of your blood, she made a page in Korean, and then motioned for you to follow her. She took you down another series of passages and finally, when you were sure Theseus himself couldn't have found his way back, she stopped in front of a large steel door and scanned her badge.

Room number 594.

The door opened on its heavy hinges, swinging slowly inward. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You realized the moment you crossed the threshold  that you didn't have your things. You didn't have your phone, or your bag, or the book that was inside it, or what was between the pages of the book.

You thought about pear-shaped Italian cheese as you crossed through the kitchen area.

You thought about little Diana trying to stop your mother from crying as she lay on the floor of the kitchen, body shaking with sobs, as you moved into large open room at the end of the suite.

And then, there he was. It was all you could do not to gasp.

    You would never have recognized him for the man in the photo Diana had shoved into your face last week. Sitting propped up in a large hospital bed, he was covered up to the waist in blankets. His frame, though unmistakably large, was gaunt, and his white tee draped around him like something that used to fit - patches and wires visible across his chest through the cotton fabric. His long arms were thinner than they should have been, ashy, and littered with bruises. His head leaned back against the pillows, he wore a black beanie low on his brow, but not low enough to hide the naked skin where his eyebrows had been. His full lips were chapped and parted as he labored somewhat to breathe. The doctor was speaking to a tall man in a black tee and jeans beside the bed. Namjoon was watching them, until, suddenly, his gaze flicked to you. Your breath caught in your chest. His eyes were unchanged. Something flooded your veins.

    "I need to speak with Namjoon-ssi, please," you said abruptly, turning to the doctor and the man beside him.

They looked at you, quizzically. You cleared your throat to speak again, slower and more firmly.

"Could I be alone with him, for a moment? I need to speak with him before we begin."

The doctor turned to say something to the tall man, but a voice from the hospital bed addressed them in a soft, deep timbre. The tall man glanced at you and then at Namjoon and replied. They held a short exchange before both he and the doctor filed reluctantly out of the room, taking the nurse with them.

Namjoon sat further up in the bed, his face contorting in pain as you approached him. You stood a few feet from where he sat, your hands inexplicably itching to reach out for him. You clasped them behind your back.

    "Hello," he, rasped.

Even the hoarseness couldn't hide the warmth of his voice. You thought his eyes and his voice must be made of the very same stuff. You were suddenly a different kind of nervous. You didn't even register your own initiative to speak as the question came tumbling out.

    "Do you want to live?"

Your soulmate blinked in surprise.

    "What?"

You took a breath and repeated yourself, this time with intention.

    "Do you want to live?" You asked again. "I know there are plenty of people who want you too, but I want to know what you want."

He regarded you in intent silence for a long moment.

    "Yes," he said finally, his cadence thoughtful and deliberate, "Yes, I want to live. I wasn't sure I did, but I do. I do now."

You exhaled a little breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. 

    "Okay, good," you nodded, looking away from his intent gaze as you fought, again, the surging urge to reach for him.

His lips quirked into a little smirk at your reaction.

    "I was going to ask you a question too, but after introductions," those eyes caught yours again, teasingly, and the little smile deepened just a bit, pressing a dimple into his sunken cheek.

The misery he was living in and he was teasing you? You felt something flutter a little in your chest which you willed yourself to ignore.

    "I'm sorry," you bit back a smile, glancing away a bit bashfully, "I just needed to know that you had agency over what was happening here, that it was what you wanted. If no one else was going to give you that choice...well, I was."

He regarded you silently again before addressing you.

    "It's good to meet you, Y/n-ssi. I'm Kim Namjoon."

You couldn't suppress a smirk at his stubbornness, and at the fact that he already knew your name, like you knew his.

    "It's good to meet you, too, Namjoon-ssi," you replied softly.

He suddenly leaned back in the bed, wincing, his chest heaving a bit. You looked over at the heart monitor that beeped beside him to see that his pulse was rising.

    "Should I call in the doctor?" You asked in concern.

He shook his head weakly. 

    "Not yet," he pressed out, with effort. "I...need...to know..."

You stepped closer to hear him.

    "Know what?" He closed his eyes , bringing a hand over his chest as the beeping slowed.

    "You...could...die...trying to..." he broke into a bought of coughs that was obviously painful. Once he had caught his breath, he rasped, "Are you sure, Y/n-ssi?"

    "Yes," you answered without hesitation. "Yes, I'm sure. This is my choice. I'm sure."

He opened his eyes. You held each other in a silent gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't. He merely nodded and asked,

    "You ready, then?"

You met his questioning gaze with a wry smile and what you hoped were steady eyes as you answered.

    "Ready as I'll ever be."

    After the staff had returned to the room, the tall man in plainclothes introduced himself as Sejin, Namjoon's manager. He gave you a deep bow, which you returned, thanking you in practiced English for agreeing to bond with the idol - something that made you uncomfortable all the way down to your bones, and which you tried to dismiss without being impolite. The doctor spoke to Namjoon at some length, gesticulating to you several times. Sejin nodded along as the nurse typed notes onto her tablet.

You felt a bit frustrated, being on the outside of what so immediately concerned you. You were on the verge of asking for Matt to be brought in when Namjoon turned to you. 

    "The doctor says that while he understands first touch is an intimate experience, that he and two nurses will need to be present to monitor my vitals. My heart is on the weaker side these days."

He looked almost contrite as he said it and your chest squeezed. You nodded understandingly. He might be your soulmate, but you knew this wasn't a meet-cute. This was clinical. What was about to happen between you was a treatment. The doctor continued, and a nurse came around the bed to where you stood and waited expectantly as Namjoon turned to you, this time with an unmistakably apologetic look on his drawn features.

    "Dr. Na says that if first contact goes smoothly, we'll need to begin treatments aggressively, which means as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. I guess they want us both in just undergarments."

Ah, hence the hospital gown.

You felt heat creep up your neck. Under any other circumstances you would have been upset at the lack of privacy of it all, but these weren't like any circumstances you had ever been prepared to anticipate. You were going to have to figure the boundaries out as you went.

The nurse beside you rolled up a chair for you to sit in beside the bed, facing Namjoon. She untied and tugged the top of your hospital gown down to place a heart monitor on your chest, your soulmate respectfully averting his gaze.

When all the necessary preparations had been made, you found yourself sitting in a swivel chair cranked up to reach the height of the hospital bed, socked feet not touching the ground. You were facing Namjoon, who kept sitting forward, much to the chagrin of the nurses who kept gently but impatiently guiding him back against the pillows. You felt a sick feeling creep into the pit of your stomach as you glanced at the second nurse wheel in a defibrillator. How bad could this possibly be? Would it hurt? You steeled yourself as Namjoon sat forward again, turning up the palm of his large right hand which rested on the covers beside you.

    "It's time," he murmured softly, eyes on you as you gave one more glance to the doctor, who nodded, and giving in to an urge you had kept at bay since you entered the room you slipped your hand into his.

    A jolt shot through your body like an intense electric pulse. It hurt, like relentless aftershocks of overstimulation to sensitive flesh...and yet if felt good. So good. You had instinctively pulled to yank your hand away from the pure surprise of it, but you had tugged yourself back to no avail. You opened your eyes (you hadn't remembered closing them) to see Namjoon, head thrown back against the pillows, lips parted and eyes screwed shut as he clutched your hand in a vice grip. You glanced at the heart monitor spitting out beeps consistent with well over a hundred beats per minute. Was that yours or his? But you couldn't very well hold a coherent thought in your mind as warmth began to flood your body, followed by a tingling sensation that seemed to fizzle up from the base of your spine and trickle down your limbs.

Raising suddenly heavy eyes, you realized that you were swaying a bit on your feet. When did you stand? And you were much, much closer to Namjoon - your hand was curling around the base of his bicep, your elbow in his palm, as you pressed every possible square centimeter of your bare arm to his. His eyes were open now and he was looking at you as his chest rose and fell. You returned his gaze, unfocused, drunk on the sensations spreading through your being.

You blinked as you heard the doctor speak, but neither of you tore your eyes away, and as if in a trace, as the nurses helped you out of your clothes, and you crawled into the bed and slotted yourself against his side, stretching out your right arm to wrap around his torso. Every aspect of the feeling grew impossibly stronger, the pleasure factor so high that it felt somehow wrong to be experiencing this with a total stranger in a hospital room surrounded by others. You felt Namjoon let out a shuddering breath. His arms had snaked around you.

The last thing you remembered before falling into a delirium was the nurse pulling the covers over your bodies.

    When you awoke, or rather, came to, you felt wrong. You rubbed hazy eyes to find yourself on a little cot. Before you could even wonder where you were or how you got there, the events of the previous day came flooding back.

Holy shit, you thought, you were in Korea. You had met your soulmate - and bonded with him. 

When had you even fallen asleep? The last thing you remembered was climbing into Namjoon's bed. Your heartbeat quickened. First touch had been...something else. An image of your soulmate gripping your hand with his head thrown back flashed through your mind.

No, don't, you thought, and pushed yourself to sit up.

In your attempt to move, you quickly realized that the wrongness you felt was that you were incredibly weak. It was a strange sort of weakness, however, one that left you feeling exhausted with every tiny move but wasn't accompanied by any sort of discomfort. In fact, you felt like you were floating on a cloud, if only one you couldn't find the strength to roll off. 

You were back in your hospital gown. There was a small table to your left with a lamp, a little vase of flowers, and white telephone. To your left was a machine much like the one you had seen beside Namjoon's bed beeping away, a little green line spiking and dropping across the monitor. A long curtain stretched across the space in front of you. You needed to pee.

As you moved to get off the cot, a sting of pain shot through your right arm at the inner joint and you realized that you had missed the IV drip beside the heart monitor. Clamping the IV stand you rose precariously on wobbly legs. You shuffled wearily forward, pulling the curtain back to reveal the other half of the room...and your soulmate.

He was sitting in bed, over the covers, in a heather grey tee and navy blue sweats, bare feet crossed at the ankles. He was still wearing the beanie, and his head was dipped down, immersed in the book he was holding open in his lap. The mid-morning sun spilled through the open window, bathing the suite in a pale yellow that blanketed generic seating furniture and a small bookshelf topped with a bonsai tree and painted clay figurine beside the bed, but left the abstract art piece on the opposite wall in relative shadow.

You were about to retreat back behind the curtain when a wheel of your portable IV stand betrayed you with a squeak. You pulled the curtain hurriedly shut, but too late.

    "Hello?" You heard him call softly.

His voice sounded better, you thought. Not nearly as raspy. You must look like shit, you also thought. Oh well, you needed to get past him to look decent anyway. And to pee. And he was going to see you probably every day for the rest of your life, so, bashfulness regarding your morning mug was definitely a waste of emotional energy. You heaved a sigh, and slowly pulled back the curtain, peeking through as you advanced a step.

    "I didn't want to disturb you," you fibbed, clutching the IV stand.

    "You're not disturbing me," he responded, shutting his book.

He was looking at you with a soft expression, reserved, but still warm. He looked a lot better than yesterday, too; it was unmistakable. His skin had lost a great deal of its previously ashy quality and the bruises on his arms had nearly vanished. His lips were no longer chapped, and, you noted, were full and naturally deep in color. His face looked less wane, though still thin, his shirt still hanging loosely over his chest and broad, sloping shoulders.

    "You look a little better," you urged, hoping to justify your prolonged stare.

He smiled. You were quickly reminded like a sock to the gut how pretty his smile was. 

    "I feel better," he concurred, "Thanks to you."

You looked down at your feet awkwardly. You had never been good at receiving praise or gratitude.

    "Oh...I'm glad," you mumbled. 

    "How do you feel?" he asked.

You raised your gaze back up to meet his, a wry smile tugging at your lips. 

    "Probably about as good as I look," you rejoined.

He pulled his smile into a tight line, eyes creasing. You thought maybe that was what he looked like when he was trying not to laugh. Suddenly you felt your bladder demand priority of attention.

    "Well, I'm gonna...get ready. For the day," you motioned, quickly realizing you had nothing to change into, and slipped back into the little room behind the curtain.

Scanning the space, you noted your suitcase and bag against the wall. You filled your bag with the essentials and a change before popping back out into the other half of the room on your way to the bathroom. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that Namjoon glanced at you before looking down at his book again, and you ignored the tight feeling in your chest one more time.

    Your mom had always said that a hot shower could make a person reborn, and by golly you figured she was right. You felt life seeping back into your limbs slowly but surely as the warm water poured over your body. As always, hot water and steam against white tile oiled cogs of your mind.

Clearly, the bond had served Namjoon well. You were anxious to know what a medical assessment would report. Your own exhaustion confused you, however. Wasn't the bond supposed to nourish you, rejuvenate you? When would you stop needing food? How often would you need to practice skinship now that you were bonded? And what would that look like? A thousand questions filled your mind as you massaged your scalp. You made a mental note to write a list of questions for the doctor.

    Once you had finished your morning routine, you felt infinitely more prepared to face the day. You changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. As you shuffled back toward your room, you noticed Namjoon bent over the bonsai, tiny scissors in hand. A nurse was typing on a tablet on the other side of the bed.

    "Um, Namjoon," you asked, as you paused.

He startled a bit as he looked up at you, dropping the little scissors and cursing under his breath. The nurse peeked over and when she had seemingly assessed that no damage had been done, she smirked.

    "At least no bonsai limbs were lost this time," she murmured.

Namjoon slipped the scissors into a little leather pouch.

    "Hilarious," he deadpanned, then turned his attention back to you, "Sorry, did you ask me something?"

    "Actually," you blinked in surprise, "I was going to ask you to ask the nurse, but I guess I can ask her myself this time."

The nurse smiled at you. 

    "Ganhosanim, this is Y/n-ssi," Namjoon said, addressing the woman. She gave you a bow which you returned.

    "Annyeonghaseyo," she greeted you, "I'm Nurse Cha and I'll be your attending on most days. Please feel free to speak to me in English," she smiled.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders. While you had been studying Korean furiously ever since your decision had been made, having medical personnel you could communicate with at this stage without having to rely on Namjoon to translate for you was a welcome relief. 

    "If you have a minute, I have some questions? Or, I will, once I write them down. Could I just put my stuff away and come right back?" You asked eagerly. She nodded, still typing away on the tablet. You dropped your bag beside your suitcase, which you tossed on the bed and unzipped to extract a pen and a notebook with three little bees embossed into the cover. You donned your slippers and crossed back over to Namjoon's side. He was sitting on the bed again, and nurse Yun was examining one of his arms. You plopped down in an armchair beside the bookshelf. 

    "Nice bonsai," you remarked, trailing your eyes over the intricate geometric patterns of its shallow stone pot.

    "Nice journal," he replied. "Moleskin?"

You nodded, holding it up to show him the front.

    "It has bees," you said with solemnity, as if the whimsy of the endearing was something to be taken quite seriously, and Namjoon hummed in grave assent. Nurse Cha glanced between you, a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

    "You said you had some questions, Y/n-ssi?" She offered.

    "Yes," you began, scribbling a few down in the pages in your lap before beginning. "Firstly wha- Oh! What happened to me yesterday? Did I pass out?" You interrupted yourself to ask.

    "Yes," she replied. "While the bonding was successful, and the skinship was highly rejuvenating for Namjoon, it appears that you were giving more than you were getting from a physiological standpoint, and while the effect was still probably similar to you on a cellular level, you were disproportionate in your transfer of energy. We've put you on an IV drip for now to ensure you're getting the replenishment your body needs regardless of food intake."

You jotted down a few lines of notes.

    "Okay, makes sense. Now, moving on to the food thing - we're still eating, right?"

Nurse Cha began typing on her tablet as she responded.

    "Yes. However, there is great boidiversity as to when and what people start rejecting as far as food goes. The average point of solid food rejection begins around two weeks after bonding. Generally, bonded individuals are still able to consume water and distilled alcohols, though they become unable to experience taste."

    "Does alcohol have the same...effect?" Namjoon spoke up from the bed.

    "An intensified one, actually," she responded, "Being a bonded mate means rediscovering your tolerance, and caution is of course advised. We've actually taken blood panels to alert us of any food sensitivities you may have. These should be immediately eliminated from your diet, as the rejection symptoms can be more severe in cases of late-stage ingestion with these items. The doctor will be in later to review those results with you."

    "Okay. And how often will we need to practice skinship, and are we going to need to initiate it ourselves or are we going to be on a schedule?"

    "I was wondering about that too," Namjoon said, adjusting his beanie.

    "The doctor will go over that with you as soon as he arrives in a little while as well. I know I'm scheduled to update your charts every six hours, so I'm sure there will be some guidance involved at first."

You quickly glanced up at Namjoon and then down at your lap. A warmth spread through your chest as you tried to keep your eyes on your notes and off of his bare arms. You were having those stupid urges to latch onto him again. Your hand twitched around your pen. You wondered what his thoughts were on your next session.

Just then, Dr. Na entered the room. He greeted both of you warmly and Nurse Cha took over relaying the consultation in English.

The oncologist was very optimistic about the effect of the soulmate bond on Namjoon, saying that his vitals had stabilized, his pain levels were lower than they'd been in weeks and the inflammation in his body had decreased significantly. He stressed that, while these were good signs, they were not a guarantee that the skinship was treating the cancer, and that they would have to take scans after a time to see if the tumors had were in fact shrinking.

He reviewed your blood panel results, letting you know that from that point forward you were to avoid consuming nightshades while communicating to Namjoon that he hadn't tested positive for any food sensitivities. He showed you a chart dictating when and how long you should practice skinship each day, beginning with a session immediately following the consultation. He cautioned you to alert medical staff if during a session you began to feel overly-drain, as they did not want you coming to the point of fainting again. You were removed from your IV drip.

    After the doctor had taken his leave, Nurse Cha fixed you with additional monitors, instructed you both to strip down to your maximum level of comfortability for the session, and departed. Once you were down to bra and panties, you climbed up into the huge hospital bed to join Namjoon, who once again kept his gaze trained anywhere but your side of the bed as you slipped under the covers and pressed yourself into his side.

Suddenly it was as if you had slipped into a warm bath under the influence of champagne. You closed your eyes and sank into the incredible sensation of his touch. His skin was like a warm cup of tea on the coldest day of the year. Like the first refreshing moments of a plunge into cool water at the height of summer. It was everything wonderful all at once, and you were so caught up in the sensation that you were barely cognizant of a tiny moan escaping your lips. 

Horrified, you bit down on your bottom lip and prayed to all that was sacred that Namjoon hadn't noticed. His immediate soft laughter, however, betrayed him, and you felt your face burning with embarrassment - beads of sweat pricking on your forehead as you covered your face with a different kind of groan.

    "Sorry," you murmured, ruefully.

    "Nah, I get it," Namjoon chuckled, his chest rumbling under your cheek. "If it feels as good for you as it does for me, then that's the correct response."

You allowed yourself to giggle a bit in turn.

    "I'm glad it's already helping," you remarked, and you felt him turn his head as if he was looking down at you.

He was silent for a beat before addressing you again.

    "Everything happened so quickly yesterday, I didn't even get a chance to thank you."

    "For what?" you countered, even though you knew exactly where he was headed with this.

    "For leaving your life behind and coming to Korea to give a stranger a chance at his. I'm going to spend the rest of my time making it up to you."

You felt your chest tighten. You pushed yourself up on one arm and turned to face him. The sheet fell down your upper body as you moved, but you were too intent on looking him in the face to notice. 

    "Namjoon, you're not a charity case. I didn't do this so that you would owe me something. This is a choice I made. All mine. So relieve yourself of any debt you may feel you owe me. We're bound by circumstance, but you're a free man in every sense of the word. I won't be a burden you bear any more than you wish to be one to me."

If you had been looking through his eyes, you would have seen yourself, pressed up out of the sheets with all the modesty of a sea nymph, your features glowing with the effects of the bond and fixed with a splendid kind of resoluteness and soft defiance. But, you saw it from your own, taking in the quiet shock on Namjoon's features that slowly morphed into something you couldn't place. Not yet. You didn't know him well enough.

After regarding you blinkingly, he looked at you with earnest eyes and gave a nod.

    "I accept those terms," he assented, and you believed him.

You thought maybe you'd believe anything he said, and, suddenly aware of the bareness of your torso under the intentness of his gaze, you slipped back down against his side.

    "I noticed you dropped the honorifics," he murmured teasingly.

You glanced back up at him.

    "Oh...sorry, I'm not used to it. I can -"

    "It's alright," he interjected, "I think we should be familiar. It will make things easier, right? Only if you want, though," he quickly added.

    "Yeah, no, I agree," you answered, shifting to press your leg more fully against his, and smiling to yourself as you keyed up your next remark.

"And I'm only your noona by a little bit anyway, so no need to call me that..."

This time a loud laugh burst out of him that shook your head enough for you to roll away and shoot him a look as he brushed a hand over his eyes in amusement. You smiled as you took in his dimpled cheeks and crescent eyes, and nearly didn't notice the voice speaking in bemused and startled Korean at the mouth of the hall. It was Namjoon who looked up first.

    "Yah!" He called in indignation and warning as you followed his gaze to catch but a glimpse of two young men, badly repressing snickers as they bolted back down the hall to the entry of the suite. 

Namjoon sighed sharply and turned to you with and apologetic expression.

    "I'm so sorry, those idiots are my friends. They're used to coming and going as they please to visit me - which, obviously now they can't just barge in unannounced."

He slipped out of bed, and you glanced away as he pulled on sweats and a shirt.

"I'll tell them to come back at a better time."

    "No, no!" you protested, "Just let me get decent. I want to meet them."

Namjoon paused as he kicked on his slippers. 

    "You sure?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

    "Yeah, yeah. I know we're still on skinship time, but, maybe we can just...hold hands? I mean, as long as you're okay with it..."

Namjoon's mouth slipped into a wry grin as he glanced down to the other end of the suite. 

    "Yeah, I'm fine with it. I apologize in advance if they can't be."

You gave a confused shrug as Namjoon picked up his phone and crossed into the vestibule area to give you the privacy to change. You pulled your leggings and sweatshirt back on and perched yourself cross-legged on the hospital bed, listening with amused anticipation as Namjoon spoke in exasperated Korean on the other side of the wall. You heard the door and three sets of footsteps accompanied by giggles and shushing, and then your soulmate emerged, all but herding the two young men preceding him into the room.

You immediately recognized the strapping, dark-haired one with the leporine smile as Jungkook, the young man who had accompanied Hybe's representation to visit you on Namjoon's behalf. The other young man you also recognized from internet images as one of the members, though you couldn't recall his name. He was shorter than Jungkook, though not by as much as he should have been due to the significance of his heeled boots. What he lacked in height he made up for in athletic build and voluptuously beautiful facial features. He shook his honey blonde hair out of his eyes, earrings tinkling as he regarded you with a coy smile.

    "Ijjogeun Y/n-ieo. Y/n, this is Jungkook and Jimin," Namjoon said, gesturing to each of the members as they made polite bows. 

    "Annyeonghaseyo," you said, returning their bows deeply, "Mannaseo bangapseumnida - dasi mannaseo bangabseubnida, Jungkook-ssi."

Jungkook flashed a blinding smile, round eyes wide and sparkling.

    "It's good to see you again too, noona," he answered in English. Namjoon's brow creased as he glanced between you and the young man you had been originally introduced to as the maknae of BTS.

    "You've met?" he asked. You nodded.

    "Jungkook was one of the people who came to meet me in the US when your company made the proposition," you explained. "He spoke very, very highly of you. His reference of your character was one of the major contributing factors toward my decision to come."

You smiled softly at Jungkook. Namjoon nodded, brow still drawn, as he pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek, jaw clenched and jutting forward, as he clapped the youngest on the shoulder. You thought Jungkook's eyes were just a bit glassy as the two shared a look that seemed to hold a lifetime of history. Jimin regarded the two with sentimentality before returning his gaze to you, again full of enigmatic mischief. The blonde took a step toward you, then turned on his booted heal, saying something to Namjoon in Korean.

You cocked your head to the side, glancing at your soulmate.

    "He said I look a lot better already," Namjoon said, eyeing Jimin warily as the younger man continued speaking, flashing you a devilish grin. Jungkook pulled his pierced lower lip between his teeth as he glanced between Namjoon and Jimin. You looked again to Namjoon expectantly.

    Awkwardness radiated from him as he deflected saying Jimin was just making fun, and he shot the younger man a look that unmistakably communicated his lack of amusement. Namjoon made another remark in Korean, and joined you back on the bed, hesitating only a moment before he took your hand in his.

You saw his shoulders sag in relief as he breathed a sigh through his nose at the contact. You had to restrain your own reaction, glancing down shyly as to avoid the two pairs of eyes trained in rapt curiosity on you from the end of the bed. Namjoon continued to speak with them, translating between you when your limited Korean wasn't sufficient, and gradually your awkwardness eased in the comfortable presence that emanated between your soulmate and his members.

As the visitors were about to take their leave, Jimin trained you with a newly serious look, leaning against the edge of the bed, and glancing at Namjoon as he spoke in what you could decipher was gratitude. 

    "He says they're all so grateful to you and glad to have you with us," Namjoon translated. You noticed his thumb slide over the back of your hand as he said it. So did Jimin, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he eyed where your digits were intertwined.

    "Ah," you said awkwardly, "No thanks necessary, we're in this together, right?"

You pulled your hand from Namjoon's and in an attempt to raise your arm and give him a nonchalant pat on the back, you backhanded him directly in the face. 

Namjoon's hand flew up to his cheek and the two younger members erupted in laughter. You apologized profusely, trying to make sure Namjoon could hear you over Jungkook's wheezing and Jimin's shrieks of what you were pretty sure was "oh shit, there are two of them". When Namjoon had assured you that he was perfectly fine and the other two had composed themselves, you said your goodbyes. As soon as they were out the door, Namjoon was apologizing.

    "It's fine," you smirked with a shrug, "That's friends for you. I would have been concerned if they hadn't poked a little fun. I like them. I want to meet the rest of them."

Namjoon slipped back up onto the bed and intertwined his hand with yours as he glanced down, a pensive look on his face.

    "There's a lot of people you need to meet," he said quietly, thoughtfully.

You studied him as he continued to look down at your joined hands.

"In fact," he continued, "There was someone I was hoping you could meet tomorrow. Someone we should sit down...and talk with."

You nodded, regarding him intently.

"Her name is Kim Hyung-seo," he continued, "She's my fiancée."

AN: Yeah, sorry to drop that at the end and peace out. 😁✌

Tag list: @butterymin @little-dark-empress @aretha170 @kamilamb @jlee97 @thephotoend @callmenoona25

[lettersfromaphrodite]

[14.20]

― pairing : Felix x fem! reader ― content warnings : wolf au, reader is a witch, soulmates, medieval settings as always, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 4.055 ― notes : “Neve” means “snow” in italian // I’m obsessed with this game, Black Desert Online, so the lore of the game inspired the Black Spirit’s part.

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🐺🔮 WOLVES! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris part one | part two // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho part one | part two // Felix // Jeongin

An incredibly strong headache caused you to wake clutching your head with a loud, strained groan. You carefully sat back up, and briefly taking in your surroundings, you noticed that you were in the small cave where you and Neve recently took shield. A sudden movement caught your attention, and the sight of the big wolf with fur as white as snow and concerned deep blue eyes gracefully made his way towards you, sitting between your parted legs.

«Hi, Neve.» you mumbled, reaching out to gently caress the wolf behind his ears, and he closed his eyes in reflex, leaning into your touch. «I must have scared you, huh?» you asked, and his eyes shortly glared at you, making you giggle.

Despite the sweet smile on your face as you kept petting the white wolf, your brows slightly furrowed in a silent wonder if he could actually understand you.

You rescued Neve from a group of hunters few months ago, and since then, he has been following you around all the time. You eventually decided to give him a name, and your imagination couldn’t think about anything better than to call him literally “snow”. He did not seem to mind. Moreover him becoming your familiar and helping you on your tasks was something you definitely did not expect, but he never left you alone, not even once.

Another thing you did not expect was for Neve to see your black spirit, the mysterious entity that accompanied you during your continuous travels. You did not know anything about it, only that it gave you an illimitate source of power and that somehow, it randomly showed up to give you tasks about the most various things in order to become stronger. Your first meeting with said spirit was a blur in your memories, you remember finding an amulet laying in the middle of the grass during a walk, when as soon as you tried to touch it, thick black fog erupted from it.

«Your memories… They are useless… We are now one, and the same.» a faint voice whispered, speaking a language that seemed too ancient, and you were not sure about how you understood those strange words in the first place. You woke up what seemed like hours later, a small ball of black fog with two small and bright red eyes staring at you as it floated around the air.

«What’s with that look?» it said, commenting your confused state «Don’t tell me you don’t remember me! You promised you would! Well, that won’t be too much of a problem anyways; your memories will come back soon enough.» you tried to understand what he was implying, when you noticed that your memories were completely gone. You tried hard to remember where you came from, what was your village like, your parents’ faces, but nothing came into your mind. You only knew your own name, and that thanks to the spirit, you were going to become a powerful witch, and nothing more.

«You’re the only one who can see me!» it added, and you knew it was saying the truth, since few times it showed up in crowded places and no one acknowledged its presence. However, for some strange odds, Neve was able to see it. You didn’t know why, and the spirit always told you he didn’t know either, but within the months you spent together, they somehow grew in a silent routine. Neve stopped growling at the black spirit, and the black spirit stopped inching closer to you, until all you could see was black fog occupying your line of sight, as it kept mumbling quiet «Don’t listen to the dog!»

Neve interrupted your thoughts by gently booping his wet nose against yours, the action making you flinch with a giggle.

«I would love to ask you what happened, and how did you carry me back there,» you mumbled, as you tentatively stood up on wobbly legs. «but sadly, you’re not human, aren’t you?» Neve settled for tilting his head and look at you with his bright and mesmerizing eyes.

Summoning the black spirit, you noticed how he seemed to have changed his appearance, now looking more of a consistent entity, rather than a ball of black smoke.

«What happened to you?» you asked it, ruffling Neve’s head which immediately had walked next to you.

«Every time we grew stronger, I change my appearance.» it answered, as he danced in the air around you. «Hopefully, I can go back looking as I did many years ago.» you nodded, now completely used to its presence and somehow having grown to appreciate it. Whether you liked it or not, you knew that your soul was deeply linked with the mysterious entity. «There’s a city not far away from here… I heard the chief is hiring some mercenaries… We should go and talk to him…» you sighed, and nodded.

Therefore, another adventure begun.

You never stayed into a city for too long, but you couldn’t help noticing how interesting and funny rumours about you started to spread out; with a plastered smile on your face you rushed home on an autumn evening, eager to tell your wolf friend about it.

«Neve, you’re not going to believe this.» you said, rushing inside the small house you rented until you finished the task the black spirit assigned you. You took off your dark cape, draping it over one of the chairs in the living room, and quickly started to prepare dinner for both of you. «There are rumours about us, we’re famous! Like, “officially a threat” kind of famous!» your eyes flashed golden as you helped yourself using magic to finish your tasks. Neve was sending you spare glances as he chewed from the raw meat he stole from the table. «They say that I walk around surrounded by shadows, and that my companion is a handsome boy which can turn into a wolf!» you lied about the last part, but your eyes sparkled with interest as you saw Neve momentarily halt his movements with a panicked stare.

Truth was, you spent part of the afternoon in the city’s library, trying to get as much knowledge as you could, when a book talking about wolves caught your interest, and you started doubting Neve’s appearance. For sure, he was a wolf, but was he a human as well? «Yeah, I know,» you added, satisfied with his reaction for now, «There are some crazy people out there.» with that, you both returned to your peaceful dinner.

Weeks had passed since last time you fainted, and the black spirit had grew so strong that his appearance completely changed. The small and cute ball of black smoke you saw as soon as you woke up had completely disappeared, and in its place, there was a tall, more menacing entity. It stood taller than you did, and it was entirely made by dark energy, except for the horned bone mask he wore on his face. Along with his powers, yours grew as well. Thanks to it, you were probably more powerful than anyone was, but you still had to understand the nature of your bond with it.

The dark spirit would materialize randomly and ask you to kill different people or run in different cities just to talk with some people, in order to potentiate and enchant your weapons, but it was also patient enough not to urge you if you wanted to spend your week gathering herbs or lazing around with Neve.

The only thing you were sure about it was that the black spirit had possessed your body, locked away your memories, and completely focused on strengthening you, holding your memories as ransom.

Another thing that you did not understand was your relationship with Neve. He was your familiar, he unconditionally obeyed your orders and loyally stayed at your side every day, but sometimes you could feel waves of emotions, which were definitely not yours.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night you would feel a wave of longing pervading your soul, and coincidentally, Neve would be staring at the moon. Did he miss home? Did he miss his family?

As if Neve felt your concern as well, he would look back at you every time with apologizing eyes, gracefully making his way next to you, so that you could sleep cuddling to his white fur.

«There’s a famous blacksmith not too far from here,» the black spirit said, his voice deep and menacing. «We should let him check your sword.» and without waiting for an answer, he disappeared.

It was the middle of winter, Neve’s fur so pure that you were sure that if he laid in the snow, no one would have been able to spot him.

«Oi, Neve,» you said, carefully brushing from your shoulder the excess of snow falling from the sky and gathering on your shoulders, your footsteps creating a path behind you. «Will you ever let me see your human form?» Neve emitted a low growl in answer, vigorously scrolling the snow from his fur, and you giggled at him, kneeling to gather some snow to throw back at him. In no time, Neve had you gently pinned on the floor, before licking at your nose before moving away. With an outraged sigh, you threw some snow at him once again, and that was how you spent the afternoon, sharing the same happiness.

The village, which the black spirit told you about, was indeed beautiful. It was not too big and did not have too many citizen, but the way the villagers acted made you somehow feel at ease. You wouldn’t mind spending your life there, if only you could. Thick woods surrounded the village, and sometimes, you saw Neve curiously gaze toward it.

«You can go check what’s out there,» you kneeled in front of the wolf, gently rubbing behind his ears, «come back whenever you like, we’re gonna stay here for a while, anyways.» Neve tilted his head, looking at you almost unsure, before nuzzling his head into your chest in what you knew was his way of saying “Thank you”.

You watched Neve walk away all the way out from the village, until you couldn’t distinguish him among the snow anymore.

Turns out, the black spirit gave you many things to do, and as you were busy finishing every task, two days quickly went by, the snow had completely melted. Despite the fact that you were continuous checking out of the window of the small apartment you were renting, Neve still was nowhere to be seen, dejection and worry making their way into your heart.

You felt it in the middle of the afternoon, while waiting for the blacksmith to finish repairing your sword. It was a deep feeling of happiness and belonging, which definitely didn’t come from within you. You clutched at your chest, right on top of your heart, the sensation of being so happy you were about to cry clouding every other emotion, and you understood.

«Looks like the dog has found his pack.» the menacing voice of the black spirit vocalized your thoughts, as it materialized out of nowhere, sitting on the blacksmith’s work desk. You sighed with the hint of a nod, knowing better not to talk with it since no one else could see it. «Don’t forget our deal.» it simply added with nonchalance, leaving you no room for doubting what you had to do, arms crossed in front of its chest before dissolving in a thick black fog.

It has been a total of five days, and judging by his emotions, Neve was still with his newfound pack. You quickly gathered your things, a sad smile adorning your face. He was your familiar, but you felt no right to ask him to come with you once again; he found his home, and you probably never will. You silently wondered that since you could feel his emotions, he could feel yours as well, and suddenly you felt guilty since all the emotions you have ever felt since you lost your memories were rage, and loneliness; as cliché as it was, you only felt genuinely happy anytime Neve was with you.

You took another glance at the now empty streets, illuminated by the lamps that adorned the walls, and using the black spirit’s powers, you vanished in a thin cloud of smoke in the middle of the night.

Living without Neve proven itself to be lonelier than you thought; you grew attached to him and considered him a fundamental part of your life, but you decided his happiness was worth much more than yours.

ou knew the black spirit wasn’t bad, you had countless conversations with it, but you missed Neve’s bright blue eyes and white fur cuddling to you in the middle of the night.

«What if you’re his mate?» the black spirit suggested. It probably felt your loneliness, since he had been walking next to you since you left the village.

«I can’t believe an idiot possessed my soul.» you scoffed, shaking your head. «Neve doesn’t even have a human form.»

«I can’t believe I possessed the soul of an idiot.» it spat back, immediately. «All wolves have one.» you halted your steps, looking at the spirit with wide eyes.

«What if I’m his mate?» you mumbled, «Could you tell me anything about my past?» you saw the spirit shook his head no, shadows dancing around its form like flames, and you pleaded «Just, is there something - anything related to him?»

The black spirit started walking again in silence, the shadows mimicking you to follow, and you eventually did. «The first time you saw him was when we saved him.» it said, and your head snapped towards its direction, and you immediately thanked it. You didn’t remember anything from your past, but at least, you were glad you weren’t forgetting anything fundamental.

You and the black spirit eventually arrived in the Capital, and the King immediately welcomed you, recognizing your strength and acknowledging all the things you’ve done in the few past months, asking you for help to neutralize a group of rebels which had started to cause problems in the capital. Apparently, you had to individuate their base and completely destroy it.

«The King is letting us lead part of his army?» the black spirit said, now sitting on one of the handles of the King’s throne. «He must be pretty desperate.» he spat, his boned mask grazing the unaware King’s face. A small smirk adorned your lips, as you tried not to say anything about the black spirit’s behaviour.

«I can’t see your rumoured companion.» the King’s gentle voice offered. Your eyes widened at the sudden and unexpected mention of Neve, but you were quick to answer.

«He’ll join me in due time.» you politely replied, and the King nodded, quickly going back to his explanation of the situation.

«I don’t want to know your ways, witch.» the King’s old but firm voice said, «I want you to bring justice.»

«We accept. Don’t we?» the black spirit said, now appearing next to you. You nodded, both at him and at the King.

You had a week to prepare for your task; the King insisted for you to stay in the castle as a guest, with people satisfying any and each of your needs. Some of the maids insisted to braid your hair before you left, so that you’d be more comfortable in battle, and you nodded with a blush, definitely not used to the feeling of people gently taking care of you.

Your thoughts kept going back to Neve, wondering if he was okay since you couldn’t feel his emotions anymore – probably due to the distance between you, but the consciousness of the importance of being focused for your mission slowly occupied your thoughts.

Following the black spirit’s suggestion, you sneaked out of the castle in order to quietly spy on your opponents, materializing behind a tree, right in front of their small central quarter’s gates. Using magic, you vanished in order to reappear on top of a branch, and quietly studied the situation.

They didn’t look particularly strong, but there were a lot of them; a lot of people who couldn’t fight somehow provided to be as much of a threat as a well-organized army, especially if the rebels were double the size of the unit sent to neutralize said rebellion.

«They’re armed to the teeth,» the spirit said, sat on the branch next to you, shadows dancing in the air and wrapping themselves around few smaller branches. «It’s gonna a child’s play.» you scoffed as an answer, knowing that once again, the spirit was right.

You attacked the following morning, charging as soon as the rebels changed the guard at the front gates. It was amusing to you, how a single witch was a challenge to them, but as soon as the thought appeared in your head, it vanished. You managed to neutralize half of their army by yourself, the dark spirit’s powers erupting from your body as black shadows danced around your frame and loyally obeyed any and each of your orders, empowering your magic.

A sudden whine caught your attention, and your head snapped towards the direction of the noise. The shadows around your body seemed to become even more, as you saw a rebel sticking his sword in pure, white fur, now partially covered in blood, as the wolf’s body fell on the floor.

«Neve!» you screamed, tears forming in your eyes, not recognizing your voice as your own. You felt impetuous rage bubble up in your chest, until it completely clouded your senses. With another scream, you and let the rage take over you, before everything went black.

An incredibly strong headache caused you to wake clutching your head with a loud, strained groan as a sense of deja-vu made you sigh. You carefully looked around, the familiar decor of the room you occupied in the castle meeting your confused eyes.

«Wakey wakey, buttercup.» a deep, beautiful voice said from your right, and your head quickly turned. A young and handsome boy was looking at you with a soft smile on his lips, as he sat on the chair of the desk in the corner of the room. He had deep blue eyes, and his hair was white.

As he inched closer, you could notice that his long eyelashes were white as well. «It was about time.» he added, sitting next to you on the bed. You furrowed your brows in confusion, endless questions popping into your head.

«Don’t you dare scare me like that, anymore!» the boy suddenly said, flicking your forehead as his expression turned serious. You blushed heavily, realizing that he was your wolf friend as soon as a wave of concern pervaded your emotions.

«Neve?» you tried with an unsure mumble.

«Actually, my name is Felix,» he smiled at you, before gently brushing few strands of hair from your face, «but “Neve” is pretty cute, too.»

You didn’t think too much about it, so you jumped into his arms, hugging Felix as close as you could, loosening a bit the tight hold of your arms as he groaned a strained «Careful, there.» explaining that wolves heal faster indeed, but he still had a cut in his side. You convinced him to re-arrange your positions so that you were both sitting on the bed with your backs against the comfortable and fluffy pillows, and he gently intertwined his fingers with yours as he answered your question about what happened.

«Long story short, you went berserk.» Felix said, tracing your knuckles. «The man hurting me triggered it, and… Darkness literally had the best of you. I could feel your powers, they were unlimited – you gave me quite a scare back there, you didn’t act like yourself anymore.» you furrowed your brows, apologizing, explaining that the last thing you remember seeing was him falling on the floor. «Yeah, everything went downhill from there.» he chuckled, «The King is pleased with your job, by the way. The rebels were neutralized and I’m positive no signs of living will grow in the place their headquarter was for at least, the next fifty years. Not even a strand of grass.»

You were about to answer, when the black spirit appeared in front of the two of you – now actually cuddling, and you jolted up as you saw that he was back to the first state: a cute fluff ball of black smoke with bright red eyes.

«What happened to you?!» you asked, and the spirit danced around the air, almost shy.

«You used all the power we collected!» it said, hiding behind Felix’s shoulder which was still chuckling.

“Since when they’re friends? What did I miss?” you thought.

«You won’t ditch me, right?» the black spirit asked, quietly inching closer. «You still need me, right? We’re going to live in the woods together!» you furrowed your brows, confusion evident on your face once again, as your eyes met Felix’s.

«Back there, the pack asked me to live with them,» he said, intertwining your fingers together once again.

«Oh, that’s amazing-»

«And to bring my mate along.» Felix added, cutting you off.

«Oh.» your cheeks flamed red once again, and the black spirit flew on top of your intertwined hands.

«I told you!» it chanted, making you and Felix giggle. «We’re still friends, right?» it immediately asked, and you nodded. With a small, happy chant, the black spirit quickly disappeared.

«You’re really okay with living with me?» Felix’s concerned voice asked you, while he was still busy playing with your fingers as if they were the most entertaining thing in the universe.

«After what happened, I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave your side anymore.» you said, nudging his shoulder, happy to be reunited with him. You never realized how complete Felix made you feel until now; he had always made your soul feel at ease and complete, you were simply too focused on occupying your thoughts with countless task in order to fill the void you believed you still felt. Void, which eventually materialized once again as soon as you parted ways. You smiled, genuine happiness spreading in your heart, as the realization that you and Felix not having to part anymore finally settled in.

«Good, because I strictly forbid you to do that.» Felix’s deep voice made you shiver; you both silently inched closer, your noses barely touching.

«A familiar can’t order his witch around.» you mumbled, almost feeling the smirk adorning his lips right against yours.

«But a mate can do that.» Felix murmured, before connecting your lips in a gentle and soft first kiss. A familiar wave of happiness washed over you, and you close your eyes to deepen the kiss as you felt his tongue running along your lower lip. You spent seconds, minutes, probably a whole hour like that: sitting on the bed with your fingers interlocked and with your free hand shyly yet gently caressing each other’s cheek as you savoured each other’s lips.

With a content sigh, you smiled against Felix’s lips, absolutely sure that now, Felix’s emotions dancing with yours offering nothing but love, were completely reciprocated.

«I honestly hope you’re okay with officially being my mate.» Felix said few hours later, holding your body close and tapping your thigh over the blankets. You immediately lifted the covers with a groan, not ready for other surprises, and noticed a bandage around your thigh, just above your knee. Felix quietly explained that it was his bite-mark, and you wholeheartedly told him that you were happy to be his.

«It was the only way to stop you,» he explained. «You were about to burn part of the woods as well, think about all the fairies living there…» Felix sighed, dramatically.

«Felix, fairies don’t even exist.» you mumbled with a chuckle, running your hand in his soft white hair as you glanced up to meet his blue eyes.

«I can turn into a wolf,» Felix scoffed, «and you walk around with a spirit. Trust me, fairies do exist.» you giggled at his answer, losing yourself in Felix’s secure embrace once again.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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[sleepingdeath-light]

finding out his soulmate is depressed hcs ; loki

requested by ; anonymous (19/05/22)

fandom(s) ; marvel cinematic universe / mcu

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; loki laufeyson

outline ; “request: i'm desperate for a soulmate au. it doesn't make if it's between loki or wanda because i love them both but i'd love your take on the soulmate au. it'd be cool if the reader had depression, cause same. thank you!”

note ; this is going off of the au where there is a ‘red string’ connecting people and is based on the avenger!loki concept

additional note ; the references to the reader’s depression are extremely brief but present

warning(s) ; canon typical references to violence and angst

loki spent the vast majority of his life thinking that he was damned — the only person in asgard to be without a soulmate

wishing, praying, reading up on anything and everything he could just to scrape together some tiny crumb of hope that one day his string would manifest

that he wasn’t truly alone

a thousand years passed him by

then two

then three

by his fourth he’d started to lose hope and as he started to fast approach his fifth he’d given up all together

the black sheep of his family; unworthy even in the eyes of the universe

it was like some sort of sick joke

but he never told a soul, lying through his teeth as naturally as he breathed and telling tall tales of his golden string and how he was waiting for the right moment to pursue his soulmate

but they didn’t exist

and it hurt more than he’d ever let show

until one day, a quarter century shy of his five thousandth year, he awoke to find a golden string wound tightly around his ring finger — precisely where one might put a wedding band

he shook of the drowsiness and bleariness of sleep in seconds, inspecting the deceptively fragile twine with rapt interest

flicking, tugging, strumming and winding it tighter and tighter — spooling it between his fingers curiously as it continued onwards into the distance without effort or strain

always having the same amount of tautness to it no matter how hard or how far he pulled

gold spun as thin as spider silk yet, as present to the world as a light breeze yet as heavy and palpable as traditional battle regalia as he brushed his fingertip along its surface

tangibly intangible, paradoxically present and yet not so, visible and invisible

exactly as the old stories had told — and there, in the distance somewhere, was his fated other half on the unseeable other end of the string

loki wanted nothing more than to meet you, but he knew well enough that the string’s late appearance meant that he still had a long while to wait — so, instead, he busied himself with his usual routine

messing with his brother, studying with his mother and proving his worth as an heir to asgard to his father

… and i’m sure that we don’t need to explain what happened in the interim so let’s skip forwards until after the 2012 incident…

the last thing he wanted was to spend his sentence waiting on a bunch of mortals — confined to a small space filled with creatures that despised him and that were far below him in every way

and he did very little to hide his disdain for the situation — which was mirrored by his ‘landlord’, stark, who also made it very well known that he didn’t want ‘reindeer games’ living in his tower

loki, in return, went to let out another sarcastic remark about the man’s ignorance before he caught sight of the very thing he’d been ignoring for the better part of a year and the words died on his throat

leaving him completely speechless for the first time since anyone had seen him after his attempt to take his own life back in asgard

after millennia of feeling so terribly alone he could see the other end of his string and it was attached to… well… you

a mortal who looked terribly detached from their surroundings, just carrying out some standard busywork in the background of his custody announcement like it was nothing at all

if he hadn’t have been forced to wear those damned cuffs he’d have peered into your mind by now — but it didn’t take a psychic to see something in you that he had been trying to conceal in himself for a while

loki didn’t speak to you that day, nor did he get the chance for a good few months as your responsibilities kept you separated to different areas of the tower

he, as a (very unwilling) member of the avengers initiative, was forced to keep to the top few floors for training, briefing and other such things

and you, who he found to be a standard member of stark industries, tended to stay on the lower floors of the tower unless you were called upon by your boss

it was frustrating, to say the very least, but the separation gave loki the time to consider his next steps — and his situation as a whole

consider the fact that he’s destined to be with a mortal of all beings — consider the differences in experience, strength and life span

consider the fact that you likely fear or potentially even hate him for his actions against your home world — that you’d probably scorn or mock him because of his actions (and he’d deserve it, he lamented)

consider the fact that he saw part of himself in your eyes and that a mortal of all things might just be the one to understand him

consider how to approach you in the first place

in the end he just about manages to catch you as you’re walking out of a meeting with stark and some higher level agents of s.h.i.e.l.d — coughing and gesturing to the string between the two of you

for a moment you just stare at him, blinking and looking between his neutral expression and the golden string — before cracking something of an awkward smile and introducing yourself (which he returns with a kiss on the back of your hand)

and you’re too busy to stay for long, and he knows this, so he sends you on your way with the promise to meet again soon

but he also says something that sticks with you as you hurry off to your next meeting — for the rest of the day, in fact

‘i understand,’

a simple, unassuming phrase spoken so quietly and genuinely that you might have thought you’d dreamt it had it not been for the earnest look on his face when he spoke

(though even that disappeared a fraction of a second later)

the end of your brief exchange that left you questioning everything you were told about him

his tendency to isolate himself according to thor (and, later, observations from the other avengers)

his habit of lashing out when pressed on certain topics

his lack of appetite for the entirety of the time you (and most other humans) had known him

his apathy towards his own well-being and, well, what he’d done before ending up on earth which had been mentioned in whispers around the office

maybe you had more in common with your soulmate than you realised — but that could be discussed at your next meeting

[lokisknife]

Hey! ~ I wanted to request a soul mate au with Peter , tony stark and loki , could it also be a male reader if you don't mind! Thank you~

¶The moment I knew / Tony Stark.

Summary: Y/N always kept their real name and their soulmate tattoo a secret, but when the paparazzi catch a glimpse of Tony's wrist, the insecure special agent suddenly has a lot of explaining to do.

Word count: 2.8+k (it's a chunky boy).

Warnings: fluff, angst, soulmate au, bad grammar maybe?, no proof reading bcs we die like men.

Autor's note: Hiii this turned out longer than I expected SO I will be uploading Peter's and Loki's parts separately, also I wrote using genderneutral!reader to make it moreee accessible to everyone, hope u don't mind. English isn't my first language so if you notice some mistakes please please please tell me. hope u like it~

Y/F/N: Your fake name.

Y/L/N: Your last name.

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Gif's not mine.

There’s an Anthony tattoo on Y/N’s left wrist, six Anthonys in their contact list, and 1.218.094 Anthonys in the United States: Y/N knows these facts off the top of their head and already calculated the probability of meeting their special person, coming to a quick realization that the best would be let the fate do its thing. Everyone and their mothers heard stories about people who have gone crazy in a maniac quest looking for their meant-to-be and Y/N decided they weren't going to be another number for the statistics.

As hard as it was, the special agent concentrated on their profession and made their life purpose to be the best, the smartest, and to make the world a decent place. Natasha always said that Y/N would be a great addition to the avenger's team but they always dismissed the underlying proposal in the redhead’s comments — being in the spotlight, having your face (or the masked version of it) in t-shirts? Sure, it was a very noble occupation but Y/N couldn’t see how being known by the masses could boost their career. Or being known at all, to be fair. The secrecy of being an agent was comfortable to Y/N: living with a fake name, covering up their soulmate tattoo, and only sharing basic personal information with a selective list of close friends represented an ideal type of life. A secure, private, stable —as ironic as it may seem — type of life.

Y/N could hack an entire country's system in a couple of hours, make someone pass out with a simple hit, and fire two guns at the same time, but nothing was harder than ignoring the stupid little imprint in their arm. It was everywhere: films, books, music; hell, every conversation seemed to be centered around “finding your person”. Especially today at the Avenger’s tower, for what It seems from all the whispering and giggling In the halls.

“Hey, wait for me, Speed Racer!”. Daisy, the nurse, jogged behind Y/N in the relatively crowded corridor. “Have you heard? About the news?”.

“What news? That’s why you are all looking like middle schoolers with all the gossiping?” Y/N teased.

“We know who Tony Stark’s soulmate is! Well, not exactly who they are, but their name”. Her eyes were wide with excitement as if she discovered the most well-kept secret on the entire planet, waiting for a reaction from the agent. Frowning a little bit as her expectations were only met with furrowed eyebrows by the other part, Daisy promptly clarified.

Tony Stark was a hero, a billionaire, and one of the most brilliant men alive, but none of these things, sadly, made him immune to paparazzi. Being in contact with - and somewhat close to - important people like the Avengers made Y/N rapidly learn that the media leeches didn't care about privacy, security, or respect. Opposing what others may think, their moral and critical sense wasn't reserved for the (literal) protectors of the Earth.

No, what was gratitude for saving their asses a billion times compared to a mediocre paycheck for spotting Tony in his private time with his wrist uncovered? The nurse kept on talking, but her voice sounded barely above a whisper compared to the agent's racing thoughts, the injustice their friend suffered drowning every word. Y/N sensed that the blonde was in the middle of a sentence when they hurriedly excused themselves to the lab. Proper manners could wait but maybe Stark couldn't.

"Hey Banner, is Tony here?" Y/N questioned with a smile that didn't fulfill the purpose of hiding their worries after knocking on the glass door in an attempt to not scare the doctor.

Bruce greeted Y/N with an expression that they couldn't quite read, almost surprised with their presence in the room as if it wasn't a morning ritual between the trio. He greeted them stammering his words and fidgeting his fingers, looking behind his shoulders uncertain about how to proceed. "Y-Yes, he is here but I... I don't think he wants to see anyone-".

"Y/F/N, I'm in the back. Let them in, Jolly Green". Y/N followed the sound and found its source leaning over projects for a new suit. For the untrained eye, Stark looked the same: cracking jokes, cocky attitude intact. But the agent spent way too much time analyzing every line off his face than is appropriate for a friend to do. His eyes were puffy, wide, and underlined with dark circles; his hair was slightly disheveled, hands shaking most discretely by the excess of caffeine as pointed by the empty coffee bottle on the table.

Tony puffed some air out of frustration as Y/N only shot a pitiful look as he tried to make fun of Bruce's eerie behavior. "So, you know huh?".

"I heard about what happened and went straight to you. I'm so sorry that happened".

Both of them sat there in silence. Y/N knew that Stark wasn't the type to ramble about his feelings freely and he knew that Y/N understood every thought in his mind just by being in the same room. Instead of interrogating the billionaire, they just offered some comfort by placing their hand on his tense shoulders, that relaxed immediately.

"How are you feeling? Do you want to talk about it?". They asked, testing the waters, knowing that Tony tended to explode after bottling all the emotions he felt to maintain his confident persona.

"No, I'm okay, I just-". He sighed loudly in an attempt to ease his stress, running a hand through his hair and unconsciously scooting closer to Y/N who was now sitting on his desk. "You know me, I love being the center of attention. I'm used to being in the headlines but since the day I forgot to use my stupid watch and the paparazzi got a glimpse of my tattoo, I've been going through hell. To be fair, never bothered me that much catching people hitting on me for the wrong reasons".

He made a pause, reached for his phone, and showed his friend all the notifications that covered the screen. "See? This morning I woke up with 500 emails from people claiming they are my soulmate. By this point, I feel like every single person in the world is called Y/N".

Y/N was so focused on listening to Stark that the last piece of information that left his lips felt like a bucket of cold water igniting their whole nervous system alive. Actually, it felt like Tony accidentally threw the iceberg that sank the titanic on their head, by the fact that he kept on talking without realizing the staggering breath of his interlocutor. Y/N felt their tattoo itching below the wristband but resisted the urge.

For the first time, they truly understood what Jane Austen meant by "feeling half agony, half hope". Y/N felt like their soul split in two, imagining a million scenarios at the same time and panicking about 500 thousand of them. Since after the battle of New York, when the new agent ran into the Iron Man at the SHIELD facilities, they hoped and prayed for whoever was listening that the "Anthony" marked on their body belonged to the genius that made their stomach ache after so much laughter.

The meaningful glances, the giggles, the late-night talking, and their fingers brushing when sharing a cup of coffee at breakfast gave Y/N hope for a future in which their tattoo could be shown with pride. But God, it felt stupid to think about prince charming when the prince is worldwide famous and could have everything and everyone he wanted with a snap of his fingers. It felt stupid to think about prince charming when there's no fairytale about them falling in love with their friend or work colleague. So to this moment, Y/N treated all these feelings like this: a stupid crush, material for daydreaming when Tony couldn't see them staring.

But now, seeing all the pain, stress, and anxiety Tony endured because of their real name written on his right wrist, rather than stupid, Y/N felt guilty. Sure, it was part of the job, but making their real name known to their closest friends couldn't be a mistake, right? Or it could if maybe Tony interprets it as Y/n using this turmoil of events to take advantage of him, like all the terrible people on his private messages?

"You know what? I know it's taboo but I'm saying it: I wish soulmates weren't a thing. Like, imagine if you could actually choose who are you spending your life with. Because-". Tony took a breath and shifted closer to Y/N, trying to guess if they could understand his point of view. As they didn't make a comment claiming it was "crazy talk", he continued. "I don't even know a Y/N, okay? Have you heard those stories about people feeling nothing special before they meet their partners? To me, it's utter bullshit!"

Just as Y/N suspected, once Tony started talking he couldn't stop: trading his tiredness and anxiety for a boost of energy fuelled by irritation, he spoke passionately about beliefs that would be quickly shushed in one of his press conferences.

"Those paparazzi took out any freedom that I have to, I don't know, figure out all of this soulmate stuff by myself! I DO think it's kind of dumb, but I actually lost any hope I have because of all those people claiming to be Y/N. Jesus, stopping to think about it, I didn't get any freedom since the start. We can't choose who we REALLY want to be with, it's not free will". He left out a humorless laugh.

Hope pulled Y/N's heartstrings as they stared into dark brown eyes that were so painfully close to their own, trying to listen to Stark logically and not distort his words into a beautiful fantasy. But he was so close, his cologne was so deep and earthy and his hair so beautifully messy that their mouth functioned way faster than their brain:

"What type of person would you choose?". Y/N questioned.

"You".

He grinned and searched for a response, the slightest reaction that showed that his feelings – as outrageous as they may seem, as purposely choosing to ignore his soulmate to be with someone else – were reciprocated. But nothing, nothing Y/N fantasized about before going to bed took a similar direction and their brain's gears couldn't turn on their own out of a sudden. They were a trained agent and rapidness was their trademark, but time now seemed like a construct made up by kids playing as crazy scientists. Nothing and everything felt real at the same time. So they just stood there, mouth agape in the most excruciating silence.

Tony's expression falls as their lack of response sinks in. He takes a step back, running a trembling hand on the back of his neck. "Sorry. I got ahead of myself, I- shit, I read this all wrong. I'm just tired, forget I said anything, it's the stress talking. Don't get all weird on me, please. Not right now".

"Tony, it's not that. It's just...I..I don't know how to explain-". They took a deep breath to put their thoughts in order. "Wait a second".

Y/N turns to the table below them, closing iron man's suit projects on his technological devices to search for the old SHIELD database. They didn't know in which order to explain all of the reasons they didn't confess before or all the things they were feeling inside their chest right now, but the agent was counting on his intelligence and quick logical thinking to put all the pieces together.

"Look Y/F/N, I usually think it's cute when you cut the conversation to show me dumb videos on YouTube but this is not the time. You are usually better at reading the room- Wait, what?". He watched the hologram in the middle of the room, dated a few years before 2012. The document showcased an old photo above every crucial information about them, but one singular line of text jumped in front of Tony's eyes. "Full name: Y/N Y/L/N".

For what felt like the first time in a lifetime, Tony was speechless. No sarcasm, no joking, no cocky attitude. Just his eyes shifting to the light blue hologram and Y/N, who was apprehensively taking off their wristband.

"When Fury took me under his wing, he said that it was more clever to go by a fake name. I couldn't trust anyone, he was the only person I knew, so I took it as gospel". Y/N took a step closer to Tony and showed their wrist while looking deep into their eyes, trying not to tremble so much. "Is it too late now?".

He instinctively grabbed their arm and examined the tattoo, comparing it to his own. Seeing their names on each other bodies side by side made him feel like a teenager opening a valentine's day card left on his locker, butterflies in his stomach and all; but opposing to Y/N moments before, his brain worked fast, very fast. Tony tensed up, and let go of their arm.

"We talk to each other every day. You have my phone number, my email, and my address. You could even drop a letter, for God's sake, so DON'T tell me you didn't have a chance of telling me earlier. Why did you never tell me? Didn't you trust me to know your real name?" He talked loudly, holding back to not shout all the emotions off his chest.

"Of course I trust you, you're my best friend, you know almost everything about me! My real name and the name on my wrist were the only secrets I ever kept from you". Y/N pleaded. "Hey, you can't be angry at me, you never showed your tattoo to me either!".

"You never showed yours! You never even gave me a sign you liked me!"

"I couldn't get my hopes up, why would you want to be with someone like me!?" Y/N cried out, not even realizing what left her lips.

"What? What do you mean?" Tony asked after a pause with a softened voice, while the agent stared back with widened eyes.

"Uh, nothing. Forget I said anything please. I... I will be leaving now". They turned their back in the direction of the door, but Stark's sudden grip prevented them from completing the task.

"Please, explain what you meant".

"C'mon Tony, we are good friends and all, but you have to understand my point of view... Look, everyone loves you, you are ridiculously important, and you are a big superhero. The People magazine listed you as the most wanted bachelor in the country, Jesus". Y/N left out a bitter laugh. "And I'm just me. I'm just someone who literally stumbled into your life, who thinks you are an incredible person and feels way too special just because you consider me your friend. The whole world reminds me every day that you are way too much for me, and I'm way too little for you-".

It's common knowledge that Tony could have terrible manners and loved to interrupt people when they talk, but Y/N was expecting sassy remarks and not Tony's lips on theirs. His hands were placed firmly on the back of their neck and waist as if he was afraid they would run away and Y/N's hands turned into fists holding his Black Sabbath t-shirt, sharing the same fear. Time stopped and the world stopped spinning as the taste of coffee on his lips and the smell of his cologne engulfed all of their senses, letting all worries behind.

"Don't you ever talk smack like this about my soulmate again" Tony joked, brushing their nose playfully with his own when the couple stopped in mutual need of air. Y/N giggled and he smiled back proudly, as he always did when he managed to make them laugh. "I'm flattered that you think all these great things about me, but I'm the lucky one, okay? You have no idea how much you've changed me".

"Tony..."

"I mean it. I was an arrogant, egocentric, anxious mess, and now... I am arrogant and egocentric in a charming way" Stark smiled. "I am less nervous about everything since I started talking to you. To be honest, I'm really relieved that you're my soulmate because I was scared that I couldn't have this type of connection with anyone else, you know that I suck at this emotional shit".

"I'm relieved too. Thank you Tony". He gave a quick peck at Y/N's lips as his response.

"So, I know we're destined to spend our whole lives together and we gotta start somewhere so... Do you want to go on a date with me?".

"Okay, I will pay" Y/N giggled.

[naresnani]

What happens on earth, stays on earth.

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain (Male OC) | Words: 6.5k

Tags: Soulmate AU, Enemies AU, Suicidal ideation, racism, war setting, implied major character death, happy ending, Nokto’s 1st POV, some sort of Nokto character study, it’s ok they’re just going on a wacky adventure I swear I swear-

Notes: OH god oh god this is getting out of hand. I didn’t think it would get this long. Anyway, this is for @xxsycamore ​ ‘s and @queengiuliettafirstlady 's  different universe, same love content creations challenge, for the Day 3 prompts of Soulmate AU | Enemies AU. I... sort of combined the two together, but also, not really. You’ll see if you read it through.

Summary:

People believe their life is over. 

Except me. I don’t believe my life has been done and rehearsed before, in the sky before I am born, because if so, I’ll have more of an idea of what I’m doing in this Godforsaken world.

However, I do often think it’s almost over. Only... it’s up to me.

And it has been said that with all things, God has created them in pairs, so that you may remember His greatness. Whether it be of what the earth produces, or of humankind themselves, as well as the rest of what they do not know. 

I was born a twin. Though, that is far from what they meant when they speak of pairs. They’re talking of something more primordial—even more so than pre-birth. Far beyond the conceptualisation of the flesh, everything was, after all, created as a twin to God itself. 

This is what love is. For anything to exist, another has to be, so that they’re witness to each other. 

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 I wake—

To pitch black darkness and rough woollen makeshift bed. My face itches upon me realising, and my head of hair has been indistinguishable from the woven patchwork underneath me for a while. The tent covering our hide sways in the young winter wind, giving a pensive howl for whoever was jolted awake. Not far from where I lay, a man about my age sat facing the fabric wall, watching a corner of the opening flap around with the breeze. He kept his stiff, but arguably warm uniform around his torso. The muzzle of his musket rifle peeks from behind his shoulder as he hugs it close, as if it is a stuffed animal.

He’s not one with many words. Apparently that’s the right one for the job, somehow, for escorting a high-risk ‘someone’ like me.

“Hey, oi. Are you not gonna sleep at all?”

I poked the soldier’s back. It is a wonder if there’s a rule against talking with prisoners within the Obsidian military. Including a freed political one, at that.

“If you’re not going to, we should just get going,” I said. Against my desires, because however cold it is outside it’s way more imperative for me to get this exchange over with already.

“It’s almost dawn, Prince Nokto. We wait for a bit of light.”

That’s his voice. “Wait, it is really?”

Time doesn’t move the way it is in sleep. Just like the heart— it behaves more deviantly.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 Just like how it was said that everything came in pairs and it’s where love lies, believers took the phrase literally. As in, we believe each person has their own other half, and that they will meet, and inevitably fall in love. And get married. And reproduce.

This is where they trip up. Believe it or not none of us choose how our souls are split while we are in the primordial soup. The other end could end up being someone you’ll greatly despise, a stranger you won’t know at all, or someone you’re completely barred from knowing. There’s no scriptures saying that this has anything to do with copulation. Yet people endure lives of misery and yearning for this belief. Kings, and entire kingdoms alike.

Anyone can accuse anyone of being—and not being—soulmates. There’s no proof that can be written and signed and believed. Souls are only ‘married’ in essence, and only dreams strip a soul to its essence. And only in dreams, then, can souls communicate. 

Dreams are fragile memories. It has no standing in bureaucracy. 

Everyone before me has failed so far. My father had his first love chased away because the royal court deemed it unseemly for him to have a wife of a dirty commoner. Were they, or were they not soulmates? Who cares. What does that beautiful detail of our creation matter anymore, against ‘unseemliness.’ 

They say pairs are two, but after all that maddening fiasco, father then believed he had a mate in every woman he laid eyes on. First, the Queen Michel. Then, five other more. Then my mother. Then he wailed and wailed about his first love again, when her estranged son arrived in his palace. No, no one actually cares about soulmates, or knows what they’re supposed to be. No one actually believes in pairs.

When me and my brother were born in pairs, they deemed that unseemly too.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 The soldier skillfully disassembled our shitty military tent, and tied up all the materials in one bundle. Impressively, he attaches all of that onto his already hefty looking pack. I couldn’t stop being amazed. I, on the other hand, get to carry my own bed bug ridden, scratchy, woollen blanket with me, so that’s nice.

The fields separating mine own fatherland and the blackstone-named Empire are not that big in reality. It’s largely just a dry, vast steppe, with nothing but weeds and dull colored hills as far as the eyes can see—which is why it looks and feels so neverending. We have to travel by foot too, because apparently I am not to be trusted with a horse. Which prolonged this journey even more. 

The wind has nothing to catch itself on so it could almost blow you off your feet at times. Autumn is when various herbs grow across the land, giving the air a hint of sweetness, and dizziness, when you think about it too much. These herbs are precious for the people that lived around them, which were not that many, considering.

The soldier is likely a man of these small tribes. Darker coloured hair, skin, almond shaped eyes. Not quite what you’d imagine of the average Obsidianite. The empire has been subjugating them for centuries, that’s why he’s here, most likely, against his will. 

We walk at a meagre pace. The ground groaned against our feet. The sun has just risen from the horizon. We are heading east, always east. East to the small kingdom of Rhodolite.

“Adam, was it?” I started up a conversation. There’s no reason someone as talkative as I am needs to endure this silence. 

He glanced back at me with no discernible expression. Yet I could read that he was asking a question.

“No, it’s nothing. Just wanted to strike up a chat, you know.”

“It is Adam,” he said, nodding forward. I try to say it the way he was.

“Alright Adam. It’s actually quite a nice day isn’t it? I wouldn’t expect it during these months.”

He kept on walking. His boots create a constant crunching sound against the grass.

“I’ve never been to this part of the earth during winter. I couldn’t imagine any snow on these featureless… endlesss… land of goddamn grass.”

“You should then, sometimes.”

I snapped up towards him. Never thought he’d give that kind of response. “Heh, after all of this is over, I guess?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re actually a nice fellow, aren't you.” I lengthen my stride to catch up with him. “Makes me think I’ve met you somewhere else before….”

He tightens his jaw, and makes a faint shake of his head. I don’t know what that gesture is supposed to mean. I kept looking forward, towards another featureless hill in the distance.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 I have met Adam before. Once upon a time, years and years ago, during the times where all my other memories of it are now gone. We accidentally met as young children. Way before I understood what God and creation were.

It was a damp, and sweltering summer. Cicadas cried in the light air. Mother had unusually allowed me and my twin brother out of our closed chambers, and we played along with the other palace’s courtiers sons.

We ran all over the courtyard, circling and turning around the rose bushes so that we're away from our mother's watch—because she doesn’t like seeing us free, and reckless, as if it takes from her own freedom. All I could recall now was us running into an old Marquis of a far away county—white haired, hefty stature—who had brought his children with him to the court, most especially his first son.

Round face, spiky hair. A clearly different complexion from everyone else. 

A quiet boy. Young Adam was out-of-the-way, he did not play with the others. He pretended to be interested in what the adults were talking about, and only watched us from a distance. But no kid really cares or should care about what the adults were talking about, so the marquis eventually tried to introduce the three of us to each other. However, we exchanged no words. 

I figured that the boy wouldn't actually speak. Licht, my twin, eventually gave him our ball so we could kick across the garden together. A ridiculously simple play.

It never lasted long. The other kids simply avoided us, because of the boy. They were watching us strangely. The adults were watching us strangely. I could always tell when they were watching. People were often careful around us, and right then, they were being way less discreet than usual. 

We eventually left the kid alone, and he slinked back to his father's side. 

Ever since, I never saw him in the palace again. The Marquis never brought any of his children again. Later I heard he became marked as a traitor to the king, and his county was taken over by another noble. The reason is unclear. His whereabouts, now, are still unclear—including the whereabouts of his family. We’ve been through many conflicts with the Empire, and although having gotten a job like mine now, many of past secrets remain hidden from me. 

My curiosities back when I was young, too, were never satisfied. No one knows of the quiet kid. No one wants to know of the quiet kid.

"What is it about him? I will not hear about you being seen with that child again, do you just- despise me so?" 

Mother cried over the littlest things. I never figured what will and what won’t make her mad.

"Do you just love having me shunned?" 

Why, tell me then, what's wrong with him? What's different? 

"That foolish marquis… spat in the face of God and his design, he did. Created 'that' with a barbarian-!"

And that’s it. My mother was a bit unwell. 

I realised it, at that moment.

"Don't hurt me more than you have, Nokto. Don't make everything in my life more difficult than it is!" 

This realisation I had, was only after she said what she truly believed. A white noble married a tribeswoman. And it was an insult to God’s creation. Nevermind about souls. Nevermind about pairs.

I never believe what people say they believe anymore. It’s a lie they tell to themselves.

 One day, my brother and I turned a year older. 

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 Adam heard something in the distance that he was worried about. He told me to lay low, blend in with the grass herbs. He crawled ahead of me, higher onto the peak of the hill, even drew the musket rifle off his back.

Silence. Only the turf scraping one another against the breeze. I pay notice of the grasshoppers jumping between the grass covering my face. The cries of distant ravens in the sky. I feel like, just in case I were to die here, at least I seem to be… most on earth.

“Jadean soldiers,” I hear Adam whisper. It is so quiet now that I can hear him easily. “I don’t know why they’re here.”

“Jade? You sure? That’s not possible.” I couldn’t help but try to crawl ahead too. I hear him grumble trying to push me back down. 

Far, in the view that the hill has provided, dots of green uniforms line out like ants crawling out of their nest. Some were on horseback. Behind them were groups of steppe trees that could be hiding more of them. Jade is a… partially neutral country. They’re not participating in this war. At least, not directly.

Adam is staring at me like he was insulted that I didn’t believe him. I say, “look, I avoid being too narcissistic at times but… do you think this has anything to do with me?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Right. I am the court diplomat here. I am also the spy, the jester, the ‘entire Rhodolite’s POWs worth’ of an asset. I am the one with the clue here.

“We try not to make enemies with Jade,” I claim. “Key word being, ‘try.’”

“Mmm. So you ever… made fights with them before?” Adam started to reach for his ammunition bag, opening up his musket to be loaded.

“Well… happens sometimes, right? I mean, they’re the ones supplying Obsidian with food, we couldn’t really help at the time to-”

Adam rammed the paper bundled bullet down the musket muzzle with a ramrod. He slipped the rod back in its place and shook my shoulder firmly. “They're heading here. We circle around north for now, if you'd like. It will take even longer to reach Rhodolite but… depends on your priorities.”

“Yeah, well….”

I see more of the green dots coming out of the horizon. More men on horsebacks. It seems to be an entire battalion at least. I swallowed down my throat.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 I believe predetermined fate exists, and… it doesn’t, at the same time. I believe it exists whether or not I believe in it. It’s more important what people do in the name of fate than what fate itself makes. Me and my twin, along with noble blooded twins of old, have been marked as an omen to an “unfortunate fate” that also comes with, apparently, “a very fortunate one.” Omens come in pairs. Fate comes in pairs. Everything, of the earth and of mankind and the rest that they do not know.

The war, and the famine, apparently was caused by Licht being born, while the victories, the harvests, were all me. Well, or vice versa. Who decides these things, right?

But, that is what my brother believed. He believed he lived a life that caused misery. Miseries that ‘we do not know.’ And the earth took him away. It took him away from me. And what does the earth give us after? War and famine… and summer and harvests, still. Earth is indifferent. 

I fell into a deep void. Where I came out not remembering my mother’s face anymore.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 The hill was to our right. The sun, to our left. My legs had started to give out. Around the foot of the mound were a lot of rocky grounds, so I've slipped and misstepped a bunch of times and it's starting to get me. Adam is far behind me, choosing so apparently, to watch over the south horizon or perhaps giving me some mercy. 

Still, at the rate that I'm going he catches up with me quickly. At the one last step I have, I take hold of his arm to steady myself, almost collapsing ourselves to the uneven ground. 

"You want to stop here?" he asks. 

I want to keep up face, and answer, "no, I can keep going." 

He doubted my claim, but didn't comment on it. He suddenly pulled me by the hand, and like a child, I kept walking while being led. 

His hand is rough, warm. This felt.… -I don't know if it is more normal to hold a stranger's hand for him—if skinship has an entirely different boundary—but I feel… held. 

Adam whistles out a gentle tune. I've never heard him do so before. It almost sounds like a lullaby. 

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 Out of everything, one of the only memories I retain is, ironically, a memory of a dream. An old, deep, childhood nightmare. The usual kind. Of being chased in darkness.

The place looked a lot like the palace hallways past the middle of the night, when the lights have all been put out. New halls and corners kept popping up the more I walked. It turned maze-like. 

In every corner that I went, a faceless human would appear before me, standing still, so that I cannot pass. Eventually I was sure they were following me. I ran to every corner that I could find, always being greeted by the same entity. 

I got desperate for a way out. But every door leads to another maze that leads to more doors. There were noises, whispers, always, behind me. As if they were catching up. There were other people I recognised present in that palace, but they were all indifferent towards me. Eventually, everytime I saw them their faces turned distorted. Their eyes moved places, got larger on one side, and their mouths stayed still even when they spoke. 

I was even more scared of the people I used to know than the chasing monster. 

I cannot get help from them. There was no way out, nowhere to hide nor to run. They were getting louder behind me. I decided to give up and close my eyes. 

I was grabbed by the back of my clothes. The shock almost jolted me awake, but I was quick to realise I had found myself being held tightly by someone.

I had always thought it was my brother who saved me, but I don’t remember what the boy looked like. If it was Licht, I definitely would. It was someone else I made up. He felt real, like how every dreams are. His body around my arm and the breaths that went through my lungs. The hands clinging to my back. The noises dissipated, and I could see everything better in the dark.

I remember what I said. I said, “thank you. Please don't leave me.”

He said, “It's okay, I'll see you again tomorrow.”

That was the only dream I remember having as a kid. That was perhaps the only dream I needed. 

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 The sun dips quietly. Traces of stars are already showing in the sky even with the sun's light colouring the blue. I was sitting in front of our tent, under my nice woollen blanket whose dye had browned at this point, sipping on warm scented water in front of my own small fire. 

I totally impressed the soldier with my fire developing skills. He doubted I have ever even stepped foot in the wilderness. To be frank, this is about the only thing I can do. I certainly have no skill in building that badass tent, which Adam seems to be so efficient at doing. While I was watching, at least. 

"If you won't mind the compliment. I really like watching you work. You really know it like the back of your hand."

"Huh?" He looked behind his shoulder while nailing an iron peg onto the ground with a big rock. "Uhhh, right. But this is easy to build."

You know.     You're allowed to find a guy cute, right? 

"So you've built… harder tents?" 

"Mmm, bigger ones." He tested the buried peg and then moved onto another one. "Mostly I've just had to build for someone… more demanding than you. I suppose."

"Oh. Me, not demanding? The first time I've ever heard that in Obsidian."

I was sure I caught him smiling. 

Now Adam had disappeared somewhere after leaving me with herbs. I don't know much about herbs. They could be poisonous for all I know, however, these past few days my only companion in the steppe had started to grow on me. 

We have never talked properly yet, about each other. We really should. 

When the sky had turned darker, Adam returned. He brought more water. The first thing he does with it is to pour some on the fire. 

"I keep hearing Jadean recon riding around here. Unless you know they won't do anything to you, we should avoid using light."

"Great. Thanks for the alarming news but, you could've been nicer to my fire…."

He ushered me inside the tent before it gets too cold, and shut us out from the world. 

 At night, somehow, the wind was sparse but it was colder than any of the other nights we've been. Like the steppe had frozen over. 

I have slept here and there, but I keep waking up to shivers. Constantly had to rub my hands together and hold my palms close to my breath, while the rest of my body wasn't faring well. Shivers sweep through my bones, and I couldn't open my mouth without teeth clacking louder. 

Adam was in his usual position. Sitting up, hugging his knees. His musket is laying down beside him this time, and his uniform is now worn as it should be. 

I sat up and huddled up closer to him, almost shoulder to shoulder. He was rather startled. 

"Oh I thought you're…." 

I pull out my left hand. "Adam, shake my hand."

He stared, and hesitantly did reach out to grab my hand. As the joke goes, our hands are shaking without any of us trying to move them. However, 

"Ahahah, fuck. You're warmer than I thought you would be. This joke sucks."

"You need to eat more," said he. His breath blows a fog my way. He rummages around the tent. "Haven't you eaten from your ration?" 

"Yeah. But I…." I couldn't say, 'it's less than what I'm used to eat.'

He glares. "Eat again. We're almost there if not for those soldiers. Plenty to go around. You look dead."

I laugh. "You may be right, I've always imagined I'll die looking way better than I am now honestly. Lying pretty in my bed or something. Somehow."

"It's not that. You're as cold as this iron bit on the rifle here. Couldn't be a good sign."

"Oh. You think I look good then?" 

He stares incredulously. I grin so he can clearly tell I'm just joking, but I'm afraid in my state now the grin just looks more… 'deranged,' rather than… 'seductive'. 

"Good, as in, what?" he said. Oh, dear, why are you prolonging this…. 

"As in I look dapper to you, friend, like a prince would."

"Oh, dapper. You do look dapper." I have a feeling he doesn't know what dapper means. "But this isn't the issue right now."

I sigh. Curling in on myself even more, I lay my forehead down on my arms. Feeling all sorts of terrible. 

I really wouldn't have survived in the wild. I wouldn't have survived anything my brothers are going through every day. I almost wouldn't have survived doing what I'm already doing… before I have to be bailed out by my brothers, again. And now, I wonder if I could've died in my sleep. 

Suddenly the earth seems to be humming, and I remember the endless fields and the stars, and these humanly issues feels much more insignificant. More so I am. 

"I should've kept an eye while you… Listen. You just need to eat. It'll help before it gets worse." Adam busily pokes around in the tent, but I didn't budge. 

"I… don't know. I've read the stories. I feel like dying from the cold would be… the most peaceful way out. Right? Your own body makes the process painless. And everything slowly stops."

The wind, not here, but in Rhodolite, scattered apart the stray petals off the cobbled streets. I can feel the capital buzzing underneath my ribs. The rumble of the ground when horse carriages run by. The bells of the churches. The first scent of the roses when you first step out to the garden in the morning. Morning breakfast. My brothers' shoes clapping across the hallway. 

I feel it's not so far away, but it's also too much. Like the soul of the city is overtaking mine. 

I feel my face heating up, and when I look up, Adam is cupping my cheeks. 

"We'll start a fire. Alright?"

 The stars' fabrics envelop the entire earth, and descend its light softly. The steppe is rolling under a kind wind. A small fire crackles. The wind does not bother it. 

Adam stomps a group of sticks on the ground to make them into smaller pieces, to throw in. I also threw some dry grass into the mix. To make myself feel less useless. 

He sits down on the other side of the fire, burning his sticks. We are both quiet. Crickets dominate the chatter. The warm smoke of the flame blows into my face. 

My heart continues to get heavier. I have nowhere else to look, but my 'friend' in front of me. Whose brown eyes look more clear in front of the flame. He is expressionless. With this man, I never knew what he's thinking. 

"I never knew…" I start to speak. Adam's eyes flicked towards me. "What your motivations are, or why you're doing what you're doing. But, know what, I feel like it doesn't matter." I smile. "I wish I knew. Dealing with rulers and these people with power could be much more simpler if I'd just… forget what they're thinking of. And just focus on what they're already doing."

"Well. That's what you do, right?" 

I didn't expect he'd participate in any of my rambling woes. 

"You're changing what they're about to do. Regardless of what they wish. You're negotiating their behaviour. It's the same thing."

"Hmm. Yeah…." I don't have the words to respond to that. He's cheering me up, isn't he? 

When they first showed him to me, they brought him like he was their best, most savage soldier. Looking so much like a stoic, focused-on-the-mission soldier with nothing to say for himself. But I could've been more wrong. 

"Hey. If not a soldier, what would you wish to be?" 

"Me?" He pointed to himself. "I don't know. I don't really think about it." He shifted to hug his knees again. "Unless someone ends this, there's no point in thinking about it." 

 That is… certainly a way to live. And he definitely was referring to me there, which gives my stomach a painful coil. 

I shook my head off the feeling. "You know, Adam. I have a feeling you're… a bit more to our side here," I tease. 

He blushes. "No. It's not about Rhodolite. I just hold no love for the empire."

"Don't we all." I lean my face onto my hand. "Maybe you'll warm up to us eventually."

"My father was a Rhodolitian," he adds, in a hurry. "But, well, I don't know him much. I don't think I am a Rhodolitian."

"Is that so!" I gaped. "I wouldn't have guessed that. If you can get that sorted out, you may be able to become a citizen. If you want to."

"Really? Perhaps, then. I don't know."

He frowned deeper than usual. I worried I might have touched on something too personal. So I changed course. 

"But, still. You're more caring than you ought to. Did you know that, most of our Obsidianite prisoners has been returned already? This is just a game for them. I am actually just…." 

I blew a foggy breath onto the air. 

"... The last worthless piece on the board left." 

I blew my breath into the sky. I feel the night sky more intimately now, than I ever do. Maybe because I never went on those military campaigns like my brothers. Merely travel back and forth, shut out from the world by the door of the carriage car. And never stopped like this, in the middle of nowhere, sitting around a fire with men that fought alongside you. Comradery. 

I suppose I never let myself have that.

I don't know what I’m experiencing now is fortune. Or misfortune. Pairs, are often actually… less separate than most people think it is. 

"I was told to kill you."

Adam spoke. He is staring holes into the ground. "By my superiors. He said to walk you through the steppe and kill you, bury you under the grass so that you can't be found. That's what they wanted. They don't care how I do it, either, as they're probably going to shoot me after I get back. Then they could craft it into whatever story they wanted. These Jadean soldiers around here… who knows if they're part of this scenario."

Shivers ran through me, even though it had gotten warmer. "They want me dead, of course." We stare at each other. "But see, I really doubt they will kill you for it. I'd think you'd become a hero, and rewarded for your service. Right now, you might actually get shot, after all you've…."

"No. You don’t know how they think. Especially when it came to us. But, ah….” He shook his head. “I don't care either way. It's not about what they'd do to me. Truth is, I will do anything to get them pissed off." 

Then, in a manner I'd think would be uncharacteristic of him, he grinned mischievously. 

"So you'd do anything to keep me alive… just to piss them off?" 

"Yes, your Highness."

I smile, and smirk. Slowly it turns into a snort and then laughter. 

"I see! That’s what you are! You're a good guy. You're the kind of person I'm all about!" 

"... What do you mean?" 

"Someone sincere, and yet very insincere at the same time. That's the attitude I'm into. We've only been together for a few days, Adam, but I'm really starting to like you."

He averted his eyes. "...I thought you'd be more scared. At least when I said I was supposed to kill you."

Can’t believe I’d be charmed over someone saying that to me. 

"Adam, I trust your force of spite more than your sense of duty. Also, how could I be scared? When you've been so sweet and thoughtful?" 

Adam turns up straight, like he just saw a ghost. 

"Err...look, I'm just teasing you. If you know me, you know that I'm a-" 

"Shh! I hear something."

He stood up. Immediately, he stomped on the nice fire we're already starting to get going, and laid a hand on my shoulder as a warning. 

I hear it too. A galloping horse. 

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 They were close. 

Not imminent, but close enough to, at the very least, a period of peace through armistice. Winter is coming, so a lot of losses are about to be had. Forces, food, grains, infrastructure. And usually once people are given a taste of peace, they couldn’t imagine going back. It’ll make an easier road to actual peace. However, it’s just simply not as simple as that.

Our battles had been quite bloody. And Rhodolite successfully captured a lot of their northern territory. The green mountainous area. A very precious territory to lose. We also got hold of a lot of their main weapons, like cannons and light artillery, which allowed us to fight back even more. A significant portion of their soldiers has been captured. Which plays a part in this last negotiation.

I bargained for a cease-fire in return for a part of their captured territory. Not too much, or they’ll get greedy, but enough to get them interested. After all, a rough winter is coming for them. They argued, of course, for more. Plus, for the soldiers that were taken from that area. We’re pretty firm in our demands. We go back and forth, back and forth. It’s been months, and winter is getting closer and closer.

Eventually, I heard a lot of rumours about revolting groups within the empire. Capital citizens and peasants alike. Soldiers defecting to the other side or escaping into either Jade or Rhodolite. Subjugated minorities taking up muskets and starting a small guerilla war. They’re internally unstable. They’re getting desperate. And so, we made our final call. 

I rode to their treaty headquarters. In a carriage, as always. I stepped into the room, with guards beside me still, and I sat at their table. 

I lost consciousness around then. I still don’t know what they did to succeed in doing that, but from then on, I became their prisoner.

I was not imprisoned long. A month, at the very least. I was practically held for ransom. Someone else is negotiating. One of my brothers—Clavis, maybe. Of course, I know nothing about the details. They kept me in the dark, literally and figuratively. When I got out, I was told Rhodolite and our coalition had already given up most of our prisoners of war, and allowed Jade to trade freely with Obsidian again.

I was told that no one, but me and some Obsidianite soldiers that will be escorting me, will know when I will be arriving at Rhodolite. For safety reasons. I was in a daze, I had no idea, nor cared what was going to happen to me.

Only one soldier volunteered to go. 

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 Adam silently crouches inside the tent, to grab his rifle and his ammo bag, and a couple other things. After he hung the bags over his shoulder I heard the galloping turn louder.

“Prince Nokto, we run north.”

“Wouldn’t they see the tent, and easily conclude that we are further north?”

“There is nowhere else to go, run!”

I run as fast as I can, holding the blanket with me, more as an accident. The rolling steppe opens up its waves for my feet. My heartbeat is in my ears. My lungs pull in as much air as it could as I push my legs to its limit.

I didn’t even consider Adam when I ran. I look back, and I see him amongst the frantic meadow watching the fields to our left with his rifle tightly in arms. He lets me go further first. Then fine, I’ll do what he thinks is best, and run like it’s the best thing that I can do.

I see a glint in the distance southwest. Like a straying star. I didn’t think my heart could pick up more speed than this.

Adam’s footsteps almost scared the life out of me.

“Keep going.”

“Is that- is that—?”

“Reconnaissance. They’re already further west than I thought they’d be.”

Even just a minute after catching up, Adam can run farther than me. I focused on breathing as I kept myself from thinking too much. Breathing, that’s all life is.

 We ran for miles, but the sound of galloping horses kept going. Like it was right behind me.

“—! Prince Nokto!”

I couldn’t feel my own body falling, and in an instant I was already on the ground, blades of grass sticking to my skin. 

“Prince Nokto, I can hear them on the other side of the hill, let’s go. Let’s get up.”

Adam pulled me by my arm to sit. I tried to make myself stand.

“Come on! Just a bit more, let’s go.”

“Adam… fuck, I’m sorry.”

He put my arm around his neck and pulled my entire weight off the ground. 

“Let’s go. Don’t apologise, just- just get running. Comeon.”

“Wait, I….” I feel like I’ve lost something. I feel lighter. I realise my blanket is not on me anymore.

A scanned the monochrome ground for it, and finally spotted it, near my feet. Completely blending into the grass. The shitty, itchy woollen blanket blends into the grass.

“Adam,” I whispered, tapping him frantically. I do hear them above us. I swiped the blanket off the ground. “That rock down to your left, do you see it?”

He glanced further down the foot of the hill. A larger rock was jutting up from the ground. Underneath, was shadow casted by it.

“Friend, will you trust me, at least this once?”

He is befuddled by my question. I don’t even know if his nod is sincere or not. Regardless,

“I’m sorry again. For this.”

I encircle my other arm around him and send us both rolling down the rest of the hill.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 Whether or not the plan works out, it’s pain. 

Pain all over my body. I wouldn’t put it past me to have broken something. Not to mention, goddamn itch.

That shadow that I thought the rock was making, turns out it was a well and honest-to-God ditch. An actual ditch for things to fall into. So now we are waiting in this ditch, wrapped in my smelly blanket, me and Adam against the world.

Well, it felt that way. But now, when I start to feel actual pain again it’s just me and Adam against each other.

“U-ugh, I can still hear them, but far in front of us- I guess,” he said. 

"Well, Adam. It seems like we're going to be stuck here for the entire night."

"Uh-uhh, right…."

"What, what is it? Did I sat on your toe?" 

“No, no I’m fine. It's just that you're-" —He keeps shifting in my hold. It’s like he won’t let us keep pretending to be bushes—"holding me too tight."

"Oh." I lightened my hold a little and gave us more space. "Sorry, friend. Did that hurt?"

"No. It's just- this feels too… nevermind."

I can feel his breath as he sighed. As well as his heartbeat right on my cheek. Mine, too, was going frantically at several miles per second. But I’ll blame it on the crisis at hand. His heart, however….

"Are you flustered, soldier? If I read this correctly, we may have something we can get back to here. Just a suggestion." 

"Shhh, no! Be quiet." 

"I tease, I tease. Don’t be so tense."

“Prince Nokto… please, we’re not out of this yet.”

By the time I can see a sliver of sunlight on the horizon, the steppe has turned quiet again. Nothing but the grazes of grass, and gentle wind. Adam said that the recon might’ve simply gone back to their group to report, so they may not be off their noses yet. So we quickly picked up where we left off, leaving our tent behind—wherever it is,—and simply climbed to the other side of the hill, towards east again.

On the top of the vast mound, behind copious trees of the horizon I could see a wall and a jutting tower behind it. Flapping on the top of its roof was a flag. A familiar red.

Rhodolite.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

 I don’t know, whether or not it’s meant to be. If it is anything to do with how souls are created or it’s just the earth underneath that pushes me right where I am now.

I don’t know if it’s love or comradery. Or if it’s both. Or if they are completely the same thing. We confuse twins with each other. We confuse feelings with this and that….

However, fact is, I’ve always seen kindness in every shithole I end up in. Kindness even from the pettiest of reasons. From the roughest part of the world and life. And the earth, however indifferent it is to us, is ultimately a kind being when I was let to see its barest soul, in the form of the dreamlike steppe I crossed with him.

My brother is not here. He can’t speak anymore, there’s no point in giving him voice… but either way, I’ll say to him:

Licht, whatever we’re born for. If this sort of kindness can still be found… for me, I found it quite bearable to keep going. Please, don’t fret anymore.

Your dear twin, Nokto.

[shivada-jade]

soulmates!

soulmate!au because im weak. you're weak too.

characters: bennett, zhongli, diluc ➡ mentions: barbara, lisa, guizhong, hu tao, kaeya, crepus warning(s): bennett luck (he gets hurt a lot), wrote this at 2:48am so my writing may or may not make sense

bennett: feels the same emotions from the other, but the emotions have to be strong and genuine

he never understood your sudden bursts of sadness. it would come at the most inconvenient at times.

for as long as he could remember, the emotions that weren't his are mostly sad. he asked his dads about it and gently told him his soulmate system is feeling emotions from the other.

after crying from an unknown pain, he made it his soul purpose to constantly be happy all the time, no matter how unlucky he could be so you can be happy too.

his dads worry when he falls down and scrapes his knee, but he would always reply with, "i'm not hurt! my soulmate is hurt!"

he would then clutch the fabric on his chest tightly, like he's been stabbed with a sword and say, "my soulmate hurts right here."

he heaves a breath, "it doesn't compare to whatever luck i get."

"this pain is bearable," he convinces himself when he comes out a hilichurl camp in cuts and bruises.

"your soulmate needs you to be happy for them," he chastises himself for shedding a tear when another adventurer wronged him.

he visits barbara to heal his wounds and asks how she always looks so... happy, so smiley.

"all it takes is one smile to make yourself happy. it can be a slow process but it works!" she singsongs, "miss lisa showed me a study about it."

ever since barbara explained, he smiles the brightest of smiles in mondstadt. he refuses to let other adventurers let him down, worried he might hurt you more than it is.

soon, he finds out that he feels no sadness coming from you. he feels no weight on his shoulders. he feels happy after Good hunter ran out of food for him.

these are not my emotions, he thinks, a wide grin creeping it's way to his face.

he lets out the loudest laugh, giggles, and various joyous noises. he's never felt so happy in his life. for once, he feels lucky, because for once, you're finally happy in the other end of his invisible red string of fate.

his luck skyrockets when he sees a person around his age, with a gorgeous smile adorning their features. he knows its you, sitting by the fountain making wishes. he knows it's you when he sees your eyes that hold so much emotion.

it was as if his heart was tugging him to where you sat.

he's never felt so lucky to have you as his soulmate.

"thank you giving the best smiles"

zhongli: every time he passes his soulmate, he hears the sounds of bells ringing

now, zhongli never thought he would have a soulmate because of his past title of 'archon.' soulmate systems are a tricky thing. he knows there are so many ways to know your soulmate system.

the common system was their first words tattooed on themselves. many others had the ability to know when they meet them, in other words, a count down.

but zhongli never had those two, nor did he have faith in the soulmate system until the lantern rite festival.

walking by the busy streets, he muses to himself how pretty liyue is under the blanket of the moon and stars. he hears the merchants call to customers, attracting and waving at them to buy their products. he hears the clink of the mora in their bag is loud; the laughter from the children young and old marry a soft smile to his face.

he freezes, hearing something that should not belong in the lantern rite. the sound of bells ringing. it isn't any cow bell, or school bell. it's the sound of echoing, melodious wedding bells ringing his ear.

he vaguely remembers his friend guizhong mentioning about this rare particular soulmate system when she still roamed teyvat.

a soulmate!

zhongli stands straighter, eyes grazing on the sea of people, trying to see if anyone stopped to hear the bells he heard. he mutters a few apologies when people bump into him with lanterns in their hands, but that doesn't matter to him.

fate brought someone for him to love. it's just that... he doesn't know where.

he walks forward, he walks backwards to where he came from. he walks to the docks then to the top of liyue harbour, but he can't hear the sound of the bells again.

he doesn't panic. he doesn't rush, because he knows fate will bring you back together. he just doesn't know how long until he'll hear the bells again.

it came to him a surprise when he hears the bells everyday after that.

everyday when he sits at third-round knockout he hears the sound of bells behind him, but when he turns, he knows you've left already.

he sighs, blowing on his tea before taking light sips. it seems he won't be meeting you today.

one day, the ringing just stops. there's no sign of you, or your presence. zhongli assumes you're just taking a sick day, or you've decided to rest, but after a week of not hearing the bells, he worries.

archons, how he wanted to look for you, but he doesn't even know who you are. hu tao encourages zhongli to take the day off and look for you, so he did.

walking aimlessly in liyue, doubt crosses his mind. what if you were here for a business trip and left? it wasnt until he passes by a stunning figure he hears the bells again. he stiffens and turns to you when you stopped next to him.

"thank goodness," he says, slightly covering his smile with a gloved hand.

your eyes sparkle as you look at him, "thank goodness indeed."

diluc: lost possesions will come to your soulmate

for as long diluc knows, strange things always end up in his possessions: hairclips, pens, coins, and archons forbid- his soulmate's overdue bills.

his father laughs when younger diluc comes home dragging a wagon and the biggest teddy bear in history, because how on teyvat does someone lose a teddy bear taller than a door. crepus watches his son struggling to drag the big toy home and sees his other son pushing the wagon from behind, also struggling.

"what do you have there?"

all the response he gets are grunts. the side of his eyes crinkle with mirth, seeing his two sons having trouble bringing it home.

"father!" diluc calls out with a grin missing two of his front teeth, "i don't know where it came from. it's like it appeared from the sky."

"it actually did fall out of the sky!" kaeya says, "we were at the vineyard and i saw diluc get crushed!"

"i did not get crushed."

"did too," kaeya retaliates, sticking his tongue out.

that was the first time diluc heard of this certain soulmate system. lost things from his soulmate go to his possession; lost things from diluc go to his soulmate's possession.

crepus glances at his boys and gets an idea. he calls for them to follow him, and they do, obediently. he leads them to his room, pulling out a treasure chest full of frilly clothes, dresses, outfits that range from a farmer's outfit to a noblewoman.

"this chest is where your mother kept her favourite things," crepus pulls out a necklace from the bottom of the case. "this necklace was particularly her favourite."

diluc can see why. he's mesmerized by the ruby sparkle it hangs. the gold chain complimenting the red jewel and making it complete.

crepus clutches the necklace, looking at it longingly before placing it back in the chest. he places out all the old clothes from the container and lays it on his bed.

"you can keep your soulmate's things here like i once did. your pops is getting too old anyway, i-"

kaeya interrupts crepus jumps on the clothes that are on the bed, creating a havoc in the room. he jumps on the bed with so much energy even after diluc tells him about the story of the 5 little monkeys jumping on the bed.

though, crepus is having none of that. he picks up diluc by his small arms and flings him to kaeya, looking like a bowling ball knocking down a pin. the two boys gasp for air, shooting dirty looks at their father before they chase him out of the house.

the corner of diluc's mouth twitch up ever so slightly, remembering when he first knew of his soulmate. it would take a very observant person to notice his smile. he polishes the glass behind angel's share's counter. under the filtered sunlight, the glass glints. satisfied with the cleanliness.

the chest his father game him was fill of trinkets his soulmate had lost over the years, and good grief. his soulmate must be the most disorganized person ever. he remembers walking to dawn winery and a sack of mora drop on his feet. it wasn't a pleasant feeling, but the thing that has diluc worried is how his soulmate tends to lose the biggest things like a 7-foot-tall teddy bear.

diluc is about to place the wine glass on a cupboard until SMACK.

a thick paper hits his face from seemingly nowhere and so he knows that is his soulmate losing the tenth thing for the day. he has a room dedicated for the things his soulmate has lost, and he thinks he might need a second room.

he pulls the paper off his face and his eyes widen in shock. this two-inch thick paper are legal documents. loan agreements. overdue loan agreements.

[Name] [Last Name]

he notes the name in his head. [Name] owes the fatui 35 thousand mora as interest. what kind of reckless person- then it hits his mind. that sack of mora that fell from the sky was that 35 thousand to pay off the loans.

he knows where to go. he leaves the wineglass on the counter for charles to pick up and hastily grabs his coat and leaves the door.

"liyue, liyue, liyue, and the fatui." he chants in his head. loans. he greets his maid before ascending to his room. he snatches the mora that dropped on his feet and sprints out the door to retrieve his stallion.

a few hours at most to make it to where his fated partner was at, and so he sets off.

arriving at liyue is strange, seeing diluc's attire did not match the city, and seeing his hands are holding the reins of his horse tightly. a strange traveler from a foreign land... with a majestic stallion. he looks like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

he lightly pats his horse, urging to go a bit faster from the trotting they were doing until he meets the gaze of a distressed person in front of the fatui.

"i swear! i had the money and the papers just today!"

diluc scoffs, knowing who they were now, and they did not have the money today. they lost it a week ago.

"listen," the masked fatui grumbles. "im just here to do my job. if i don't have the money in my hands right now i'll-"

diluc jumps off the saddle and unloads the sack of mora from the side, dropping it on the fatui's hand with a seething glare, yet still polite.

"i believe they owe you 35 thousand? sounds about right, no?" he says, letting his diplomatic side show a bit. "for the sake of it, why not amuse me and take this, david. hmm?"

the fatui goes rigid, hearing his name. he slowly lifts his eyes up, "master diluc." he curtly nods and skittishly walks away. one time david spilled drinks at a mondstadt political gathering. he spilled it on diluc.

the ragnvindr waits for the fatui to walk away before turning to his, supposedly love of his life.

"you're the one who lost a 7-foot-tall teddy bear when i was six," he points out, waiting for your response.

his soulmate sheepishly smiles, "well- i would have a good defense but hey, did you at least enjoy having a 7-feet-tall teddy bear fall on you?"

"i did, along with a glass mug falling on me as well."

"i just cant believe how you never lose your stuff!" they retort, "the only thing i got was a missing tooth from you."

the tip of diluc's ears turn the same colour as his hair, but still wears a stoic expression. "i'm diluc ragnvindr," he greets, slightly bowing his head.

"and i'm yours"

part 2: with ganyu, kaeya and thoma