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pierregazly · 8 months

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in the mind of another ꨄ max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!soulmate!reader

warnings: mentions of sexual themes (no smut), pining/yearning for another, tiny bit of angst but hea! [wc is 5.4k]

in which soulmates always have a way of building the connection with one another. for you and max, you've always been the voice instead the others head, the one thing that has always been a constant presence. but will that voice inside your head, ever be the voice you hear from in front of you?

By legal terms, a soulmate was defined as “person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity. This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust.” In today’s day and age, more often than not, your soulmate was that of romantic origin, a person you yearned for on a regular basis.

It was something instilled in you at an early age, that everyone had a soulmate, but not everyone met their soulmate. Everyone had a way of interacting with their soulmate before they met. You learned early on, very early on, that you could interact with your soulmate through your mind. Through words, pictures, even internal conversations. But sometimes those interactions would lead to nothing, and your parents tried to ensure you were aware of that in the fear that you would be heartbroken one day.

One thing you could never do was tell them your name, who you were, or where you were until it was time. It was like your mind would go elsewhere when you tried to tell the male on the other end who you were. He told you the same thing happened to him every time he tried.

The both of you spent a plentiful amount of time interacting in your shared youth. He would often ramble on about his day, about go-karting, and his dad who he kind of hated but obviously loved, about his mum who he missed, and his sister who he couldn’t wait to see when she came to visit him wherever he was in the world.

You would do the same, you’d tell him about the things you did that specific day, explain little things about your family, the things you looked forward to for the remainder of the week. It was something you both just got used to.

The both of you grew up together. Even if it wasn’t physical, you were an emotional tether for one another when either of you needed it. He was there for almost all of your firsts, your first graduation, your first familial heartbreak, your first crush, your first boyfriend (which he was eager to help you through when it ended).

Ever embarrassing to admit, he was even the one in your mind, more times than you can count, when you felt the butterflies in your tummy growing as your fingers explored different parts of your body. He always pushed you to continue, telling you exactly what he would do with his own fingers, or his own tongue; when he finally got the chance to make you feel the way you were making yourself feel.

It was something you didn’t speak about after it happened, but it didn’t change the fact he was usually the one your brain went to when you made yourself feel that way. He argued it was the soulmate connection, that your soul just simply wanted him to be the one to do it.

As time went on, the conversations dwindled amongst the two of you, both of you growing up and growing out of the fantasy that you would meet your soulmate one day, meet each other.

You still got glimpses into his brain occasionally, pictures of blue and red cars, racecars are what you presumed. His fingers on what looked like a controller, but turned out to be a steering wheel when you asked him what it was.

“Seems like a bit of an extravagant steering wheel, no?”

The silent laugh was loud in your mind, as if you could feel his body rumbling in its laughter at your words, “Pretty extravagant, yeah. Not everyone gets to use something like this, though.”

“Explain the steering wheel to me, there’s too many buttons and toggles,” you prompted him, knowing full well it would dive him deep into an explanation about the object you so often saw inside his head.

That was another thing you learned about him early on. He liked to explain everything. He used to spend hours describing the go-karts he drove every weeknight and weekend, putting as much detail and emphasis into his explanations so that you would better understand. As time went on, so did his explanations, explaining situations he’s found himself in around the world, explaining how his career was kicking his ass but how he loved it, occasionally getting drunk and explaining how soulmates worked and that it was inevitable you’d meet one day, even if it felt like that day was never coming.

Not wanting to be the one to burst his fantasy and ruin whatever hope he had, you would usually just nod along and silently hum to him when the conversation of eventually meeting one day was brought up.

You still shared nights together, even from thousands of miles apart, your brain yearning for him as his did the same.

There were moments in time, where you were positive you had almost met him, or perhaps had made eye contact with him. It was a small feeling inside of you, like everything you were looking for was in the same building as you, or around the corner, or even in the same city.

Usually just as fast as the feeling appeared, it was gone. It never lasted for long periods of time, it was like your soulmate bond was teasing you, pushing for you to reinstate your faith in the connection. He always argued that if you lost faith in the soulmate bond, it would lose faith in trying to push the two of you together.

Yet another thing you learned early on, whoever he was, arguing was in his blood. If he disagreed with you, with something you said, or with an opinion you had, he would go off into a whole explanation and argument about why he knew you were wrong, and how he knew he was right.

It was endearing, how passionate he was about everything in his life, and seeing how his passion for everything just continued to grow as he grew up.

Over the last 8 years, you had learned not to even attempt to communicate with him on Saturday or Sundays. He had told you that it was the busiest time of the work week for him, and that he couldn’t handle internal distractions on those days.

You would only speak to him when he spoke to you on those days. Usually it was a fleeting ‘have a nice rest of your weekend’ or ‘I can’t wait until you’re here with me, celebrating this with me’.

He never elaborated on the last part, and you never went out of your way to ask. Whoever he was, he was usually celebrating something on Sundays, at least that’s what you assumed from the raw happiness and elation that usually went through your connection on those days.

You hadn’t heard from him, from your soulmate, in weeks. Which wasn’t necessarily unusual, either of you could cut off the connection for weeks at a time if things were stressful in life, or if you just needed a break from the never-ending person that was inside your head at all times.

It didn’t mean you didn’t miss his dry sense of humour, the bluntness with which he said things to you, the never-ending arguments about the stupidest things. You would never admit any of this to him, though.

Ignoring the yearning-feeling from inside of you, you allowed yourself to think about how things would be if you ever met the person on the other end of the connection. Would it be instant happiness? Relief? Joy?

People always explained their own experiences to you, saying it was like love at first sight, but amplified so significantly, because it felt like your soul was complete, like everything was finally where it needed to be in life. They described it as meeting the one thing that made you whole, the one thing that made you continuously push to be your best self, to continuously push to be better at everything you did in life.

You truly couldn’t believe what they said, not that it sounded exaggerated or silly. It was just difficult to imagine anything causing a feeling so instantaneously and intense as what they described.

Your friends had disappeared earlier in the day, eager to try and find themselves different drivers throughout the entrances to get photos or autographs with. You really had no interest in any of it. Your soulmate had eagerly admired, and shit talked almost every single person on the grid to you, at least once or twice, so it really wasn’t worth trying to interact with any of them after that.

Your paddock pass sat heavily on your chest, the lanyard rubbing against your neck as the bright Sun shined down upon your skin. The cheering of the Tifosi could be heard throughout the entire fan sections. The Ferrari faithful were dedicated, especially at their own Grand Prix.

He had told you that Monza was one of the ones not to miss. That it was electric, regardless of who you drove for, even if the fans were booing your favourite driver, or your favourite team, it was a delight to drive in Monza.

You found yourself staring at the different drivers names that were wrapped around the seating section. Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell... Max Verstappen.

He was handsome, that you could admit. With his pretty blue eyes, and his arrogant little smirk, and his annoying obsession with having to win.

“Oh, you think Max Verstappen has pretty blue eyes, huh?”

A small sound erupted from your chest as you listened to the words floating through your head from the man you hadn’t heard from in weeks.

“Look who’s alive! Thought you got lost with your little controller steering wheel.”

Laughing at your words, “You didn’t answer my question! You think Max Verstappen has pretty eyes?”

“I think Max Verstappen himself is pretty. Other than when he’s being an arrogant prick.”

That feeling had been eating at you all day, again. Like your soulmate bond was trying to force you to go in a direction you weren’t understanding. It was like it was trying to tell you that he was here, that he was so close you could almost smell him, almost touch him. You had been ignoring the little jabs inside of you all day, refusing to acknowledge the fact that maybe, just maybe, the person you were yearning for so heavily, was so close.

“My soulmate just called me an arrogant prick, without realizing she was calling me an arrogant prick.”

The Brit in front of him guffawed, his whole body moving as he gripped his side at Max’s words, “Mate, how did that even happen?”

Shrugging his shoulders as he looked at Lando, “Not too sure. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks, figured she had shut the connection off for some time alone and all of a sudden, she’s thinking about how ‘Max Verstappen has such pretty blue eyes’ and then told me that I’d... or he’d be attractive all the time if he wasn’t such an arrogant prick.”

Patting his shoulder gently, all Lando did was grin at him, “Just think, mate. At least whoever she is, she thinks you have pretty eyes and that you’re good looking when you’re not being an arrogant prick.”

Max shoved him as he walked by, walking away in the direction of his driver's room. He had been having that feeling again, like his body was yearning for something that it couldn’t explain to him. He had tried to ask a few people about it, had asked Sebastian in the past if it was something he had experienced before meeting Hanna. Of course, Seb hadn’t been much help when one considered the fact that he and his soulmate had met in their shared childhood.

It wasn’t something he could ask either of his parents, both admitting long ago that they weren’t destined for one another and that they had never had a connection with their true soulmates, which allowed them to willingly marry each other. Victoria had met her soulmate and now husband when they were young as well, so she would be of no help.

He was almost embarrassed to ask Christian, or any other older person who had already met their soulmate. He was a grown man, he could literally just google it if he wanted to, but what exactly would he type in?

What is that weird yearning feeling I get every now and then, out of the blue, in random buildings or random cities?

Max was almost positive the answer would be ‘allergies’ or ‘hunger’. He figured that maybe it was soulmate related, it would make sense, but it wasn’t a feeling he had often. It wouldn’t make sense to only yearn so heavily for your soulmate in certain areas.

It was always the strongest when he felt like he was truly connecting with you. He noticed it for the first time when both of you had touched yourselves to the sound of the other, egging one another on, saying exactly what the both of you know the other wanted to hear. Max couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed that time with you, how intimate it was, how much he craved to be the one making you moan and whimper.

The feeling always grew after that, the yearning for the other person, the desire to have you there with him, the desire to have you underneath him after a night of celebration, the desire to have you wrapped in his arms, the desire to send you an unnecessary bouquet of flowers... if he could just figure out who you were, all of that would be possible.

But the yearning today was different. It was like his body was trying to tell him he needed to go somewhere, trying to encourage him to walk down halls he didn’t usually walk down, or trying to push him in directions that made no sense.

“You gonna tell me why you’re thinking of Max Verstappen so much today, and why you’re thinking so much about his pretty blue eyes?”

He could feel the involuntary smile reach his lips when he heard your soft laugh. He really tried not to be someone who was smitten with a person he had never met, but he couldn’t deny that he was in love with you, likely had been since the both of you were young.

You were the one constant in his life, the one person he could always turn to when he needed someone. You listened to all his ranting, dealt with hours upon hours of ‘Maxsplaining’, dealt with unnecessary outbursts and temper tantrums, but you never complained about it. You always eagerly pushed for him to continue, asking him more and more questions, prompting him out of his head and prompting him to get over whatever frustration had pushed him over the edge that day.

“If you must know. I’m at the Monza Grand Prix, and I had to get away from all the Ferrari fans for a bit, pretty sure they were going to blow my ear drums. Max Verstappen’s name is everywhere, so I, of course, had to internally acknowledge his attractiveness while grimacing at his name in front of me.”

Max felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. You were here? In Italy? At the Monza Grand Prix? The same place where he was, at this very moment, at this very second?

He could tell you were waiting for a response from him to your words. It was like he could sense the raise of your eyebrows from the silence that emitted between your connection.

“You’re in Monza?” He questioned eagerly, his hands sweating as he waited for a response

“Yes sir, just about to try and force myself to go find my friends and head back to the paddock so I can avoid getting trampled by any other Ferrari fans.”

Max knew almost instantly that, that had to be what the feeling was. The yearning. You were close by, and his side of the soulmate connection knew it.

He had tried to tell you who he was before, had tried to explain it to you in words that the connection wouldn’t muffle or meddle with. It never worked. Any time he tried to explain to you who he was, or what he did for a living, it was like his brain malfunctioned and he had to hotwire it back on.

You had told him the same thing happened to you every time you tried to explain to him who you were, or the easiest ways to find you in the real world. Every time either of you tried, it was like the connection was shutting it down.

Daniel had told him it was likely the bond, telling him it wasn’t the time yet, that the both of you had to wait until the bond was steady and ready for you to finally meet in person. Max had never believed it, until right now.

You had never been able to tell him exactly where you were before, at least, not that he can ever remember. You had told him the things you were doing in the past, had told him the people you were spending time with, even that you were getting dinner in certain districts. Any time you had tried to tell him the restaurant, or the city even, the connection would malfunction.

But you were just mentally able to tell him where you were, you were internally able to tell him where you were going in the place that you currently were.

“I’m... I’m in Monza too. At the Grand Prix, I mean.”

He could almost feel the instant shock and excitement at his words. Before he or you could get the chance to say anything else, he heard GP calling for him, the annoyed expression on his face an indication that he had been looking for Max for far longer than he actually wanted to be.

“I have to get back to work. Please, don’t leave before you hear from me again. Maybe this is a sign.”

You could practically feel the shock coursing through your body. Both of you were here. In Monza. At the Grand Prix. At the same time, together... but not together? You tried to contain the giddiness at his words, a silent hum in acknowledgement when he told you not to leave. How could you leave? Especially now that you knew he was here? And that he was working?

It gave you some indication as to why he was always so busy on Saturdays and Sundays, if he worked for a Formula 1 team, or for Formula 1 in itself. Their biggest days of the week were the weekends, especially during race weeks. It made sense why he could never talk on those days of the week, or why he always seemed so happy or moody on Sundays.

You couldn’t believe that both of you were able to tell each other where the other was, that the connection finally allowed you to give that little tidbit of important information to the other. Maybe it finally was time, maybe the connection was finally allowing you to meet the one person you had been yearning for, even if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t.

The text message to your friends asking where they were garnered a response, which prompted you out of your train of thought. Letting them know that you were on your way to their location, your brain moved back to the previous thought your mind was on. He was here, like truly here. Within the same 10 kilometers as you. Probably the closest either of you had ever been to each other before.

Your friends greeted you eagerly when you finally found them, excitably telling you all about the drivers they had met, how Alex Albon even recognized two of them from previous Grand Prix and how they just knew Charles Leclerc was going to win today because the Tifosi were going crazy and how could you not win with all that support screaming for you?

Nodding along with a smile on your face, you had an inkling they were wrong. Max Verstappen was likely going to get his tenth win in a row, but you weren’t going to say that to them.

The drivers parade went by faster than you were expecting, before you knew it, the cars and their drivers were lining up in their respective places along the grid. Your friends eagerly itching for a better view of the upcoming race. You couldn’t even put the effort in to pay attention, wondering where he was right now.

Was he working? Was he one of the mechanics? One of the pit crew, eagerly waiting for their driver to pull into their spot? One of the engineers, hoping their instructions and their drivers did as they were supposed to? You tried not to let your mind wander to the other possibility, but it was hard not to.

What if he was one of the drivers? One of the 20 men now pushing themselves around the track at the fastest speed their car could take them? You tried not to stay on that thought too long, but your mind seemed to wander back to it.

It would make sense, really. Whoever he is, he had been karting since he was a boy. His father had been unnecessarily forceful with him about it, always pushing him even when he was down, telling him that champions didn’t cry and that if he wanted to win everything one day, he had to act like he wanted to.

He always made it seem like he was on top of the world on Sundays, like everything he ever wanted had happened that day. Would a mechanic, or an engineer, or someone from the pit crew consistently have that level of elation on Sundays?

You knew it was possible, if they were working for a winning team, or a winning driver, and that driver was making their lives as easy as possible, then you knew it was definitely a possibility. You just couldn’t shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was one of the drivers.

The crowd was cheering as eagerly as they possibly could, Verstappen had overtaken Sainz three laps prior after the Spainard had led for 15 laps straight. The Tifosi were relentless though, cheering as loud as they could for their two drivers. Your friends had resigned themselves to the fact that Verstappen was getting his tenth win in a row, which was slowly coming closer and closer as the time ticked down.

It felt like time was zooming by; the minutes on the clock trickling down as the stadium waited for that last lap to start. Sainz was battling to keep Leclerc in fourth, doing everything in his power to keep the third podium spot he had rightfully earned.

The checkered flag waved as the Red Bull car of Max Verstappen passed the finish line, a simultaneous cheer erupting within the crowd when the two red Ferrari’s passed the line with barely a second apart.

That feeling inside of you, the yearning, it had been getting stronger and stronger throughout the race. Strong enough that you had to rub at your chest with a grimace more than once, ignoring the signs that obviously your soul connection was trying to give to you.

The television in front of you showed Max Verstappen on the top of his car, both hands and 10 fingers up as he stared at the moving camera, an obvious celebration beginning as he ran towards his team. Verstappen jumped at them, right as you heard his voice in your head.

“Where are you right now? I want to see you. I need to see you.”

He sounded out of breath, but elated, as per usual on a Sunday. Must work for Red Bull then, you thought to yourself.

“I don’t really know how to explain where I am, I’m in the Paddock Club with my friends.”

Turning away from the screen, you tried to focus on the words coming through the connection.

“Come to the area where you can go towards the garages, I’ll have someone tell security to let you in. What are you wearing? I don’t think you’ll be able to tell me your name yet, and I don’t want to risk fucking this up.”

You had absolutely no clue how to find the area he was describing to you, explaining to him that you didn’t spend most of your time at Grand Prix’s unlike someone, apparently. All he did was laugh joyfully, explaining to you in simpler terms how to get to where he wanted you to go.

“I have to go do a few more things, but just wait for me, okay? I’ll come to find you, the moment I’m done. I swear.”

“I’ve waited for years; I think I can wait a few minutes more.”

He didn’t verbally respond, but you could still feel the happiness, the sense of something you could only describe as adoration come through the connection before he shut it off again. It was obvious he had commitments, but it was disheartening knowing you still had to wait a few more minutes, that he wouldn’t be there waiting for you, behind whatever security guard you were going to have to verbally grapple with to be let behind the barricades.

All you told your friends when you left was you had to go make a call, and that it may take a few minutes. They tried to argue with you, telling you the drivers were just about to do their post-race interviews and that it was always one of the best parts, but you simply brushed them off, eager to get to where you needed to be.

It didn’t take you long to find where he had told you to go, his explanations as thorough and necessary as they usually were. Before you could even get a word out to the security guard, a tall brunette in a Red Bull shirt lightly tapped your shoulder and gestured for you to follow her, flashing her entry pass at the guard and pulling you along.

“I’m Liv. I work in PR with Red Bull; I was told to wait for you. Sorry for just like... pulling you along. No one really gave me any explanation, just that I was told to look out for someone wearing the exact same outfit you are, and that it had something to do with a soulmate thing and I couldn’t get involved or ask questions.”

“This pass will get you in and out of pretty much wherever you need to be in the Red Bull garage and areas nearby,” the brunette rambled on as the both of you walked, pulling a second entry pass from her back pocket to give to you.

Both of you stopped in front of what only could be the hospitality lounge, if the plethora of food and drinks were any indication. You didn’t necessarily know where to go, or where to stand, so you looked back over at the brunette with confusion evident in your eyes.

“Just wait here! He shouldn’t be long. Feel free to snack, or make yourself a tea, or you know... drink whatever really. I have to get back to work. Just like, don’t leave. I’ll probably get in trouble for that. Anyways, bye! Good luck!”

Not giving you the chance to respond, Liv, as you learned previously, turned and basically ran out of the room. You were left alone in the hospitality area, everyone from Red Bull obviously still celebrating Max Verstappen’s tenth win in a row.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself, deciding to sit down on one of the couches being the only real option you could decipher. The television was on low, the interviewer speaking to Sainz, Perez, and Verstappen.

“You look eager to get out of here, Max. Big celebration planned for your tenth straight win?”

The Dutchman chuckled, a cocky grin prominent on his face, “I have something I have to do after this, of course, though, not the celebration right away. I’m sure the team has a celebration planned, but it’s a bit arrogant of me to be involved in my own celebration party planning, no?”

The interviewer laughed in response; you simply cocked your head at his words. Ironic that Max Verstappen would call himself arrogant, just hours after you had told him how arrogant you found Verstappen.

A few more questions zoomed by; your own thoughts preoccupied by the idea that your soulmate could be coming towards the room at any minute. The feeling in your chest, in your body as a whole, had grown substantially again since you sat down. What you didn’t notice was him grabbing his chest at the same time you did, rubbing it with a grimace as the yearning grew and grew.

It didn’t take long for the interview to end, the television going back to the reporters as the drivers evidently went to go do whatever it is they do after their post-race interviews.

You could hear someone walking down the hallway, which was strange considering how busy the Red Bull garage had to be right now. The steps grew louder as they got closer and closer to the room you were in, the door slamming open being the only thing to pull you out of your thoughts as you spun around.

Making direct eye contact with your soulmate for the first time was exactly how everyone described it. It was instant, the feeling that seated itself inside your heart, inside your mind. It felt like you were whole, like everything you had done in the past 24 hours, let alone the past 10 years, had led you to this exact moment.

You subconsciously moved off the couch, stepping in the direction of the man that was now eyeing your every move. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind, whether he was happy, disheartened, you didn’t know.

He stepped in your direction, just as you put another foot towards him. You could see the corners of his lips turning up, a smile starting to edge itself onto his cheeks.

“I can’t believe you’re really here. In front of me. Like, a real person.”

It was the same voice that you’ve heard in your head for years, except the words were coming from the mouth of the man in front of you, coming from the mouth of the man with the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen.

You barely had time to process anything before he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you directly into his chest as you wrapped your own arms around his body.

He was real. Everything you had yearned for, for years was real, and Max was right there, holding you in his arms as he pressed his lips against the crown of your head, not wanting to let you go.

Max could barely contain his eagerness as he basically sprinted down the hall of the Red Bull garage after the end of the interview. Olivia had told him where she had brought you, telling you to wait in the hospitality lounge and that he’d be there to see you as quickly as he could get out.

He couldn’t believe that you were really there. After spending years of talking to an invisible force inside his head, years of having a constant companion who he could turn to for internal comfort, you were barely seconds away from him.

Max didn’t hesitate to throw the door of the lounge open, making eye contact with you just a second later.

Everyone was right, the feeling you get when you finally meet your soulmate, the person that’s supposed to complete you in the best of ways. It was instant love, instant happiness, a feeling better than any win he had ever accomplished, a feeling that could barely be explained in one million words.

He knew right then that he loved you, and when you smiled at him, he knew you knew it too.

i am obsessed with the soulmate trope so this obviously got out of hand and way more descriptive than i intended. im hoping you all love it as much as i loved writing it!! let me know what you think

my requests are also open :)

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#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen x you #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 one shot #f1 imagine #soulmate trope #my writing #formula 1

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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month

Text

Go Heavy on the Red

ALASTOR x (F) READER

Summary: SOULMATE AU. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. Till you died and met him

Warnings: Mentions of death, drunk driving, dugs, alcohol, and sex. Rating: PG-13

For the lovely @anon-of-the-void

Requests are OPEN

In the chaotic realm of Hell, where demons and lost souls roamed endlessly, there existed a peculiar demon named Alastor. With a penchant for mischief and a flair for the dramatic, he ruled over his domain with unmatched charisma and power. But beneath his imposing exterior lay a longing, a desire for something more profound than the endless cycle of torment and chaos that he so loved.

All his life, Alastor’s wrist had been adorned with perfect neat red cursive spelling out the words ‘Going heavy on the red, huh?’. Whoever you were, your handwriting was pristine, perfect for someone like him. Yet, despite this, Alastor never truly believed that he would ever find the soulmate behind the words inked upon him. His tattoo was in red…his soulmate was alive or not yet born. A strange phenomenon for a soulmate not to be born within one’s time but then again Alastor was a strange phenomenon in and of himself.

You were no different. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. ‘New to the whole being dead thing my dear?’ Your soulmate was dead, you always wondered how. You were born with the ink so black and murky that it looked like a void space. The handwriting was a fine print, definitely from a time long past. It looked as though it was printed by an old typewriter or someone who had an orderly and steady hand. Crisp and clean. Maybe your soulmate was like that too?

But fate is an even crueler mistress, and despite laying on the load of soulmates from different eras - your mortal thread was also fragile. As the years passed, your time on Earth drew to a close and when you closed your eyes for the last time after being slammed into by a drunk driver - you awoke not to pearly white gates but deep dark brimstone ones. Your bearings were slim and despite trying to orient yourself to your new environment, nothing was working.

Slowly working your way along the smoky streets, you peered upon an ad for a hotel - the Hazbin Hotel to be precise. The ad was clearly hand drawn with what seemed to be childish crayon but nonetheless the happy picture seemed to stand out amongst the dismal exterior. Following the directions, the streets you walked were perilous. Screaming, crying, the heavy smell of alcohol, sex, and sin filled your nose. Holding your stomach, you convinced yourself that expelling the contents of your stomach right before you approach a hotel didn’t seem like the best idea. You would at least wait to find a decent bathroom…if there was such a thing in this place. In fact, where were you anyway?

Soon, you came to gaze upon an older structure with a giant vacancy sign. Entering the Hotel, you observed your surroundings. A…cat…stood at the bar with a…spider demon there too? A shorter hyperactive woman ran around with a knife…and were those walking eggs?!

“OH MY GOSH!! Hello~! Welcome to the Hotel, my name is Charlie!” Without warning a younger woman with blonde hair and a red suit came up and shook your hand furiously. Dazed and confused, you shook back slowly.

“Oh, hello.”

“So wonderful sinner, would you like a room?”

“Wait, um sinner? I..I am not a sinner.”

“But you are—oh. OH. I see. You’re new!”

“Umm..new to what exactly?”

“Oh, this…this is Hell. You…died?”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. You saw the headlights, he sped through the red light. Crash. Now..now you’re here. Not in your car where you were. But here. In Hell. Hell, the supposedly a fiery pit of destruction and seduction that held the most enigmatic and psychotic of characters.

“Well, let’s get you settled in! Come on, I want to introduce you to everyone!”

Grabbing your arm and dragging you around the Hotel, Charlie introduced you to everyone in an effort to get your bearings and settle down. Little did you know that from the shadows a figure lurked. Watching with glowing red eyes, Alastor peered and sized up this newcomer to the Hotel. Fresh meat was always a good idea and especially with all the changes going around, he felt a need to grasp onto some entertainment. Distract himself with unworthy souls who would fail here spectacularly.

His soulmate tattoo had turned black this morning and his mind began to reel with all the possibilities. Would his soulmate be in Heaven or in Hell like himself? Would fate be too cruel again and separate them not only across time but planes of death? Throughout the day, his wrist started to burn with a fiery pain. They were close…and as this newcomer approached the Hotel, his interest peaked. Maybe they knew something, he would find out sooner or later.

“Alastor, where are you? We have a new guest for you to meet! Oh, he may be a bit creepy but just don’t try and focus on that.”

With a flicker of shadow, Alastor appeared in front of you in all his 1930s red pinstripe radio glory. His voice was static with radio waves, he extended his hand to you.

“Going heavy on the red, huh?”

Static crackle. His grip tightened around your own as he heard your words. With an evil crackle he spoke with a smirk.

“New to the whole being dead thing my dear”

Alastor's grin widened as he reached out, grasping your hand and drawing closer to his wrist.

"Look closely, my dear," He started tracing the intricate patterns etched into their skin. "Do you see it?"

Your eyes widened in awe as you beheld the tattoos adorning their wrists, glowing softly amidst the darkness of Hell. "It... it's...," you trailed off, breath catching in your throat.

"Our soulmate tattoos," Alastor finished, his voice softening with an unexpected tenderness. "Fate's cruel joke on us my dear has come to an end."

For a moment, you were speechless, heart pounding with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "I... I never imagined..." you began, voice trailing off as you searched for the right words.

But before you could speak further, Alastor locked his gaze with yours in an unspoken promise. Manipulation has its place and it was Alastor’s preferred tool.

"In this realm of chaos and despair, we may have found each other against all odds," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of Hell. "But together, my dear Y/N, we shall defy fate itself."

And as they stood there, their souls intertwined in a bond that transcended the boundaries of Hell, you knew that they had found not only their salvation, but also your truest companion amidst the darkness. Alastor knew that he had found his only weakness, the tinge of his dark black heart beating once again. Feelings he knew were real despite his aversion to such moments. Maybe hiding and indulging in this one weakness wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #answered #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #vizziepop #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #radio killed the video star #request #alastor x reader #alastor soulmates #soulmates #soulmate au #fic idea #one shot #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul #alastor imagine #alastor fluff

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littlegalerion · 7 months

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Yeah sex is great, but have you ever heard of:

#what I wanted so badly with halsin #i wanted a 500 year old wood elf that was ready to settle down #it was a long shot but damn I wanted it #astarion would be capable of this too but I believe hes only a little over 200 #ao he wouldnt be mature enough to want this quite yet #this isnt offical lore btw but it was one variation of it during I believe 3.5E or 4E #but damn I wish this still existed #its beautiful #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #halsin #like my halsin romancers....imagine him explaininf this but he says 'i prefer the term soulmate'#'or perhaps just mate...look at you. youve turned this old bear into a wolf ready to begin his own pack.'#18+ only

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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The Haunting Silence // Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha was your soulmate and she had done everything physically possible to keep you hidden and safe. Every day the two of you spoke through your mind using your soulmate connection but, what happens when suddenly Natasha's mind is silent?

Requested by: @southern-goth thank you for the request!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff, hurt/comfort, head injury, Sense 8 soulmates AU, Crying/Anxiety, threats of violence, protective Natasha, scissoring, oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms

Words: 7.5k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Soulmates: two souls that are deeply connected and once successfully found, can communicate through their minds, no matter how far the location or language that was spoken. They were rare and many people were driven insane with the search to find their one true love but not you, you'd accepted years ago that there may never be the chance of ever finding her until fate was on your side.

It had been a beautifully mundane day. The movies like to show a romantic first meeting between two souls tied together from the depths of time, whether it be colliding in a coffee shop, running through the rain or even the hero saving someone from a villain. This was not anything like the start to your story, in fact, there were many details you couldn't remember.

Was it sunny? A Monday? Were you wearing jeans or leggings? You were completely unsure of any of these details but these were all menial with regard to the bigger picture no matter what day it was; it was the best day of your life as you met your soulmate. One minute your thoughts were your own, always described as 'hauntingly silent' by individuals who had already found their soulmates and thought back to the time before meeting their loved one.

Then the next, as you turned towards the exit of your work, your eyes hadn't even connected with her green eyes, still mesmerised by her lips as another silky voice echoed, "Oh", through your mind. It wasn't just this, as a warmth settled through your chest, not realising how empty you had been surviving through life until you finally found her, Natasha, your soulmate.

Natasha Romanoff had recently joined SHIELD when the two of you met but, she was honest about her alter ego Black Widow, as well as her past as an assassin which quickly helped to decide the dynamic of your relationship: a secret.

You were a nurse in a small hospital in the middle of nowhere, it was a surprise to you that Natasha had even found your workplace with it only being used by the locals. This fact actually aided with you being able to keep the relationship secret, you were a nobody in comparison to Natasha, no one would even look in your direction with suspicions or notice a hooded figure sneaking into your home in the middle of the night with your lack of neighbours.

At first, it had been difficult, you'd just found someone you wanted to spend every waking second with but she had to travel around the world and face dangerous missions constantly. However, thankfully with your soulmate connection, you could talk through your minds as long as you were both awake. Then as aliens attacked Earth and the Avengers were formed, you were happy to still be hidden, knowing that if anyone found out about you, they could use you against Natasha so a long-distance relationship it was.

Every single day, the two of you spoke, her words always feeling like being wrapped in a tight warm hug or when the tone changes, a seductive finger sliding down your spine.

Today, you were 5 hours into your shift at the hospital, finding a spare moment to wander down an empty corridor, hugging a report to your chest as a smile widened across your face.

You aren't lying to me, are you? your words were teasing towards Natasha but had every undertone of seriousness behind them.

Natasha had to hide her smile behind the microphone of the headpiece she wore as she was currently flying the Quinjet on the way back from a mission with the Avengers. Why would I lie to you, Milaya?

Your heartbeat quickened at the use of her nickname for you, Milaya, translating to darling, a name that often had you feeling safe and warm. It was also an easy way for Natasha to distract you from your questioning so you shook your head and tried to remain on track with your mind communication.

Please tell me, you encouraged, trying to find out if your soulmate had earned any injuries on this mission.

I'm fine, it's only a scratch on my wrist. - and bruised ribs to match the deep purple shade forming along her jaw where some asshole managed to punch her in the face, but you didn't need to know about that Natasha decided. You were at work and didn't need the distraction.

Hmm fine, I'll believe you for now but I'm going to see if you're lying when you get here in 2 days' time, you responded trying to sound slightly doubtful, having had this conversation with the red-haired assassin far too many times before.

Natasha's mouth quipped into a soft smile that she didn't bother to hide, eyes softening as she looked across the extensive view of clouds. 2 days seemed like such a long time to you both, her stomach twisting uncomfortably thinking about the wait as she decided, I'll try and visit sooner.

Don't rush baby, I would love to see you but please rest. It had been nearly two weeks since you had been able to hold or kiss Natasha and it was almost like you craved to be with her, needing to smell her hair, stroke her bare skin - you were going insane without her around. However, you couldn't help but feel bad that she felt the need to rush to be with you, she was so busy on these missions, hardly eating, sleeping and having to be at peak physical performance at all times. She was doing the very most and travelling across the country to see you whereas you had to sit pretty and wait for her, yes you worked full-time at the hospital but it was hard to compare your fatigue to Natasha's.

I just want to be with you, Natasha finally admitted, her voice losing the confident tone she had been trying to uphold for your benefit.

Your steps slowed to a stop as you stared at a crack in the concrete floor, I want to be with you too. You sighed out loud, wiping a hand down your face before trying to continue the conversation. Where are you at the moment?

Natasha swallowed the lump forming in her throat, the sudden overwhelming sensation to cry needing to pass as she was still surrounded by her friends in the Quinjet who had no idea she had found her soulmate all of those years ago. Looking at her coordinates, she replied, we are flying over Colorado at the moment.

You smiled slightly as you approached the door you had originally been planning on visiting in the hospital, the happiness felt through the bond that Nat could feel her chest warming. Oh, I've always wanted to visit Colorado, I've heard the--.

Silence.

Not the silence that came with being distracted and losing your train of thought but the sort of quiet that left an empty hole in Natasha's chest as she waited for you to finish your sentence but it never came. The assassin sat up further in her seat, heart beginning to pound violently behind her ribcage as the realisation dawned on her that the emotions she was experiencing were the haunting silence she felt before meeting you before there was ever a soulmate connection.

Milaya? Natasha asked into the void of her mind, but there wasn't any sort of response or emotions felt back. Even when you were asleep, Natasha could feel your calmness and sense of contentment through the bond but it was just...lifeless.

MILAYA?! The red-haired woman was screaming through her mind, frantically pulling off her headset as they felt suddenly claustrophobic, forest green eyes darting wildly around the multitude of buttons laid out before her on the jet's console.

Nat hadn't noticed that in her surge of anxiety to try and get you to respond, she had actually begun verbalising her nickname for you, which caught the attention of Tony who was sitting closest to her.

"Who? I'm not naming the jet that Nat, if- Woah". Tony's words were swiftly cut off as Natasha pushed past him, her mouth was painfully dry, eyes wide and unblinking with fear, the match the tremor that had settled in her hands as she grabbed the touchscreen computer typing in your hospital's location.

Her eyes moved faster across the screen than ever before. There was nothing, no reports of an attack, nothing that would be a reason for your bond to completely disappear. Next, she opened the local police scanners and reports but once more, there was nothing that reverted back to the hospital.

Every second that agonisingly ticked past, she continued to scream a mixture between your name and Milaya, hoping there would be some sort of a response but nothing seemed to come of it.

"Natasha? What is it?", it was Steve who was asking now. Natasha's erratic behaviour was quickly questioned by her colleagues and friends who all approached and watched with confusion as she continued to lose all control.

Clint pushed past the others, grabbing onto his best friend's shoulders, his eyebrows furrowing as a tear slipped from the woman's eye, sliding down her cheek. Looking over her shoulder towards the screen, he recognised the hospital name, him being the only person that Natasha trusted with your whereabouts.

"What is it?" Clint demanded.

"I... I can't hear her", Natasha's voice was quiet and displayed her distraught brokenness.

"Her? Who is her?" Tony asked.

"Tony, not now", it was Bruce this time who spoke up, having never seen Natasha lose her composure like this, something had to be seriously wrong.

Clint's hands moved to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him, "Nat, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath in for me and tell me what's going on."

Natasha removed herself from Clint's grip after taking one steady breath before turning back towards the computer screen, not bothering to wipe away the tears that she couldn't stop from falling as she attempted to log into the hospital's CCTV. From there, she rewound the feed to a couple of minutes ago and began to search through the corridors.

"Can someone explain what's going on, please?" Steve asked, more sternly than before, trying to find some answers that he wasn't getting.

However, the Black Widow wasn't listening, becoming even more panic-stricken with each passing second as she searched for you on the screen until finally, some air returned to her lungs as she found you walking down a deserted corridor, the footage a minute before the bond suddenly stopped. Natasha nearly smiled at seeing you there, even though she couldn't see the details of your face due to the low-quality cameras.

Tentatively, she, along with the rest of the Avengers, watched you walk down the corridor. Nat's eyes continued to glance at the time, watching it tick down as you approached the door at the end of the corridor, opened it and stepped in and then nothing as it was the time everything became silent. There were no further camera feeds in that room, you were simply there one minute and then something happened in the room and the bond was gone.

Natasha rested her head against the computer, closing her eyes to put all of her effort into shouting your name into the void in her mind but the only thing that responded was the silence and the disrupting shouting from the people around her was distracting.

"Everyone shut up!", she demanded with authority, thinking hard enough that it was beginning to form a migraine.

Glancing towards Clint, who looked just as worried as she felt, he asked, "Nothing? What about here?" he tapped against his chest, directly over his heart.

Natasha shook her head before a red suitcase caught her eye line. Taking a step towards Tony she demanded, "Give me the iron man suit".

Tony scoffed, "What? Not until you explain what's happening- wait what the fuck?!"

"GIVE ME THE SUIT!", Natasha had lost all composure, not thinking clearly, only thinking about you as a priority as she reached into her holster and within half a second, had her gun pointed towards Tony's head.

"Natasha, put the gun down, NOW.", Steve demanded, taking a step towards the billionaire like he was going to stand in front of the gun for his friend.

Nat began to cry, still mumbling, "Give me the suit Tony", the hand holding the gun still visibly shaking. Clin stepped directly in the path between the gun and Tony before Steve could, he held up his hands for good measure to show he didn't mean any harm.

"Nat listen to me", his voice was calm and low as he spoke, like he was talking to a frightened animal. "Even if you wear his iron man suit, I don't think you're in the right mindset to be by yourself so this is what's going to happen. You're going to lose the gun and I'm going to sit in the pilot seat and fly us to her, we'll be there in a couple of hours but you need to calm down right now, this jet is too small to be firing guns and you know it".

She knew he was right, thankful that she had a friend to talk some sense into her as she lowered the gun, nodding her head towards Clint who rushed to the seat she was just sitting in, placing the headset over his head. Returning the gun back into her holster and watching as Clint increased the speed of the jet, she suddenly jumped as Bruce began talking to her.

"How long has it been since you found her?" he offered her a warm drink that she hadn't noticed him pour for her. Of course, Bruce was the first to suss out what was going on. Nat held the warm drink in her hands and forced herself to drink it, even though the nausea she felt was overwhelming, she needed to try and keep calm.

"Before I knew any of you...except for Clint", Natasha admitted quietly, sitting in one of the seats surrounding the edge of the Quinjet.

Steve sighed heavily, sitting next to her, now understanding just what was going on.

"Wait, so you've had a soulmate this entire time and you didn't tell any of us?" Tony asked, sounding slightly disheartened by the news.

"I had...I NEEDED to keep her safe Tony. Do you really think our jobs don't come without any repercussions?" Tony shivered at Nat's words, thinking about the number of times his soulmate Pepper had been caught in the crossfire due to him being Iron Man. "Exactly. I can't lose her, she's... the only person I have and the only one I let get close to me, she's my only one and now, she's not answering my calls, something is wrong, I know it is".

The Avengers all nodded their head solemnly, understanding why she had reacted the way that she did. Tony sat opposite Nat, eyes full of remorse, "So is her name Milaya? That's what I heard you say earlier".

Natasha released a half-assed chuckle beneath her breath, "No that's just a nickname, her name is y/n", she allowed herself to smile for a split second, thinking about the first time she'd called you Milaya and how fond you were of it.

Then realisation dawned on her that this was really happening. Not only were you potentially in danger but now the Avengers also knew about you, could this potentially mean you didn't need to hide anymore? Shaking her head she left that thought for another time, needing to make sure you were ok first.

"Everyone strap in", Clint shouted over his shoulder, the jet beginning to reach it's maximum speed. Natasha attached the buckles around herself tightly, dropping her head back and continued to try and shout down the bond.

Clint landed in the near-empty car park in record timing much to Natasha's relief, who hardly waited for the doors to fully open before jumping down onto the tarmac. Even though the car park was bare for vehicles, there was still a scattering of people gathered around, visiting people in the hospital or using the facilities which meant, as the Avengers were suddenly in this forgotten-about town, it caught their attention quickly, shouts and whispers from every direction.

This didn't stop the group however as they followed Natasha into the building, her footsteps fierce and confident, face full of determination, all tears gone as anger replaced those feelings. There wasn't any immediate sigh of distress as they entered the building, and no sign of an attack still or police presence.

The reception lay straight ahead, and immediately, Natasha knew that it was the receptionist Bonnie behind the counter, someone you had talked about with affection on many occasions and it dawned on the assassin that she probably knew every professional in this small building.

Trying to not sound too aggressive but still holding the urgent tone, Natasha stopped before the counter, staring at Bonnie who looked up with comically wide eyes, glancing at each of the Avengers before looking back at Black Widow as she began speaking, "Y/N, where is she?"

Bonnie frowned in bewilderment, "Nurse Y/N? But how did you know-"

Natasha's heart dropped painfully as the receptionist seemed to confirm that something had happened. Beginning to lose her composure once more, her voice raised in noise level as she demanded, "Where is she? Is she even here? Did someone take her? Is she dead-?"

Bonnie quickly cut off Natasha's rant, standing from her seat with raised hands, "No! No she's not dead but something did happen earlier, let me take you to her".

She directed the group down a corridor, half running with how fast Natasha was trying to walk in front of her, ignoring the stares from the other patients and professionals. As they approached a series of windowed rooms, Bonnie began to explain what had happened.

"A ... a guy came in earlier, we think he snuck through the basement but he was caught stealing meds which were where Nurse Y/N was stationed and...she found him in the cupboard and he hit her hard across the head, by the time we found her, the guy was gone and she was unconscious on the floor. The doctors are still waiting for her to wake up was the last update that I had".

Natasha was reeling from the information, knees momentarily buckling but Clint was right behind her, hand under her arm to keep her upright and moving. You were alive, that was the information that alarmed through her mind, you were unconscious that was why she couldn't feel the concentration, it wasn't like you were asleep and could wake at any time, you'd been forcibly put to sleep, your body healing and cold.

Then there was the fact that someone had actually hurt and injured HER soulmate, right now, you were her priority but the second you were feeling better, nothing and no law would stop Natasha from hunting this guy down.

Suddenly Bonnie stopped in front of a large window that looked into a private room that had light filtering through the blinds causing an orange hue to shift across where you lay in the hospital bed in the centre of the room. There were a few machines scattered around that were monitoring your observations and a nurse recording the results standing next to the bed.

Natasha had to use every part of her training to try and hold back the audible sob that threatened to explode from her mouth as she didn't wait for permission to walk into the room. However, no one seemed to have the courage to even question the Avenger, all looking confused between her and the other heroes, nurses and healthcare assistants gathering to see what all the commotion was about.

The nurse turned, hearing someone else entering to room, her eyes widening just as exaggeratedly as Bonnie's and Natasha was quick to read his name tag, Chris. Internally she smiled knowing you were in good hands, Chris had a reputation at the hospital for his quality of care and that you and he were close friends, it must have been hard for him to then stay professional and give care for his friends.

"Is...Is she ok?" Natasha finally found her tongue to ask the Nurse, her green eyes wandering over every inch of your body. You looked almost peaceful, except for the fact that you were still in your Nurse tunic and there was a bandage plastered to your forehead.

A wave of nauseous anger rushed through Nat's body but she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Chris's full attention was now on the Avenger as he answered her question with a surprisingly sturdy tone considering he was talking to one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. "She's had several stitches to close the injury, we found a metal pole next to her covered in blood so she took a strong hit. Thankfully there's no internal damage shown in the scans and she's yet to wake up but her observations have remained stable. Even if she wakes, she'll need to stay for a day or so to fully assess the damage."

The red-haired woman nodded, feeling somewhat relieved hearing this.

"Natasha?" Clint asked from the doorway having heard what Chris had said, waiting until the assassin turned towards him before continuing. "You good? We'll get out of here to give you some space just... keep in touch, will you? Let us know when she wakes up and-", his voice lowered dangerously low, "we'll find the guy".

Natasha nodded thankfully, even though she wanted to find whoever did this, the promising look in Clint's eyes she knew to trust that he had it covered. The rest of the Avengers shuffled back down the corridor, waving at the onlookers, thankfully taking the spotlight off of Natasha for a second as she attempted to step closer to you.

With no one there to hold her up, her knees buckled once more with overwhelming relief pulsing through her heart as she reached for your hand, her eyes filling with tears at the warm skin of your hand against yours, finally feeling grounded and connected to you.

Chris was quick to provide a chair for the Assassin, leaving the two of you and ushering away the spectators through the window, Natasha decided she would find him later to thank him for this.

"Oh Milaya," Natasha sighed as her face searched yours, hand gripping yours before stroking the back with his thumb.

The movement seemed to stir something with you as your fingers twitched in her grasp, a moan releasing from your mouth, eyes flicking beneath your still-closed eyelids. It almost felt like instinct for you to turn your head towards Natasha, feeling her presence there as the further you stirred, the mouth the empty hole in Natasha's chest filled with your bond.

"Natasha?" you whispered, voice thick and slurring slightly.

Nat brushed her other hand across your cheek, leaning down to lightly kiss the part of your temple that wasn't covered in bandages, mumbling "I'm here, baby". For this once, she absolutely didn't care who could see the two of you, Natasha allowed herself to be vulnerable for a moment, she thought she'd lost you, there was no way she was wasting another moment again.

A further hour passed before you moved again, sucking in a deep breath to properly fill your lungs and frowning, feeling something was off but not sure what. Blinking open your eyes, you flinched at the bright light that sent pain sparking across your head.

"Milaya?", Natasha whispered, careful to keep the noise down to not affect your sensitive senses. Her thumb brushed across your soft cheek, trying to help you arouse so she could see your pretty eyes.

"Nat?" you asked again, voice still sounding just as slurred and thick as before, "Am I dreaming?".

Eventually, your eyes opened, squinting against the orange light still pouring through the outside window. Even though the doctors had been giving you pain relief through your IV that was attached to the back of your hand that Natasha wasn't holding, you were still sensitive to the lingering concussion.

"There are those pretty eyes", Natasha praised as you looked at her hovering over you. "You aren't dreaming, you're ok, you're safe".

"What- What's going on?" you asked, feeling like something was wrong but not quite understanding just yet. You were confused and dazed still. Attempting to sit up, you frowned as your soulmate pushed against your shoulders, keeping you lying but you were only attempting to be closer to her.

"Hey it's ok, you don't need to get up, you need to rest", Nat encouraged, watching as you looked down at your body, observing the leads attached to various areas to monitor your observations, the cannula in your hand to the heavy feeling in your head, lifting said hand to brush over the soft material of the bandage on your head. Natasha cupped your hand and pulled it away from your injury, "Be careful my love, you've been hurt, don't touch it".

"I've been hurt?" you asked with confusion but the slur was very much still evident, you still need to rest and recover.

"Yeah, do you ... remember anything that's happened? Do you know what day it is?" Natasha asked, staring down worriedly at you.

You tried to think hard about today but your mind continued to be blank with delirium. "Uh... I don't remember anything. I feel like I'm floating through space", you admitted but then something dawned on you, even though you couldn't name what day it was, you knew you were at work, having been in this particular room hundreds of times and Natasha was definitely next to you right now, still dressed in her Black Widow uniform. Eyes flicking over her shoulder to the indoor window, you could see some of your colleagues walking around. "You're here! In front of everyone, they'll see you, Natasha!"

Natasha's eyes softened, hands coming up to cradle your face, "Shhh Milaya, I don't care that they've seen me. Baby, I thought you were dead." Her eyes dropped from yours to stare at your name tag that was clipped to your tunic, willing the heavy emotions to remain at bay, you needed to rest and she didn't want to make you more upset. "We were talking and then you were silent but usually, I can feel you even when you're asleep but there was nothing and I couldn't... I had to come here, I thought you were in danger, I mean, you were in danger! Apparently, some asshole was stealing med and you found him so he hit you with a metal bar".

"I'm sorry I scared you", you responded, feeling overwhelming guilt over the situation but still feeling completely dazed and out of it. "Will you stay?" you asked hopefully, reaching up to touch her cheek gently.

"I'm not leaving your side", Natasha confirmed.

"Good". The two of you stayed silent for a few minutes as the assassin returned to sitting in her seat, lifting your hand to place it back against her cheek so she could nuzzle into it. You smiled at her softness, something she didn't often like to display before something else caught your eye, your fingers nimbly grasping her chin to turn her head away from you so you could look at her chin, seeing the painful bruise there, "I thought it was just a scratch you got on this mission?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, so you do remember somethings", Natasha smirked, referring to the conversation the two of you were having before you were attacked.

"Oh little bits," you admitted, "I bet we look like a right pair", you joked, eyes closing with heaviness suddenly exhausted.

"Get some sleep Milaya", Natasha muttered against the palm of your hand.

I love you, you spoke into the mind connection, feeling heat spreading across your chest with love.

Natasha had never heard such beautiful words before, sighing and leaning over before she could stop herself to kiss your lips softly, audibly whispering, "I love you too".

Thankfully, 24 hours later you were discharged and finally bombarded by your friends and colleagues that were swiftly brushed away by Natasha as she led you towards the exit, but she quickly admitted that her phone had been going off constantly from the Avengers, wanting to invite you over soon to be introduced.

It took Clint three hours to find the man responsible for the attack and had been keeping him in a secret holding for Natasha, not that the woman was rushing to leave your side any time soon.

The days passed by and you were forced to rest by both the Doctor and Natasha, who was quick to do anything and everything for you and you were more than thankful, the symptoms of the concussion taking longer than you'd anticipated to wear off.

Finally, you felt strong enough to climb out of bed, the smell of food being cooked coming from the kitchen had your stomach growling in hunger as you quickly had a shower, still careful of the plaster over your stitches but the massive bandage had been removed thankfully.

After dressing in only an oversized top and shorts, you smiled lovingly at the sight of Natasha in the kitchen, standing in dark joggers and a thin grey vest, her hands moving skillfully over the food that was cooking, toast popping up in the toaster.

You began to move forward with the plan to help her by buttering the toast, greeting her with a "Hello beautiful", and reaching for the knife and butter. However, your attempts were futile as Natasha snatched away the utensil.

"Nope, I'm doing that, go and sit down please", she began moving away from you, to continue with her cooking.

Rolling your eyes, you simply found another butter knife from the drawer and moved back to the toast, "I'm fine! I can butter my own toast, Natasha".

Once again, she simply removed the knife from your hand, shaking her head with a throaty laugh, "I'm looking after you so go and sit down".

"You have looked after me and I'm feeling almost normal except for the stitches", you admitted, pulling the toast over from the toaster and placing it onto the plate, moving closer to Nat to try and snatch the knives out of her hand but she held it at arm's length, still smirking. "You're relentless you know that?" you finally admit defeat, hand dropping to your side.

You watched her move for a moment, not planning on sitting down at all before stepping behind her as she stirred something in one of the pans. Your hands rested against her waist, fingers teasing along the hem of her vest to finally slip beneath and feel her warm, soft skin as your lips kissed along her exposed shoulder. You smiled against her, hearing the relaxed sigh escape her mouth.

"Hmm... and you are good at distractions", Natasha quipped over her shoulder, leaning into your touch.

"I've missed you," you admitted thoroughly, even though the two of you had been together for the last few days, due to you resting, you hadn't been able to be intimate and you missed her, especially being away for so long before the attack.

I've missed you too, Milaya. Natasha spoke through your mind, hands moving to rest over yours before turning slightly towards you. "But- I need you to eat first, your stomach growling woke me up this morning and I'd feel much more content knowing your belly as full before I take your clothes off".

You swallowed harshly at the end of her sentence, thankful that she wasn't fighting you on being intimate and you could deal with the request, kissing her mouth quickly before stepping back towards the table that was already set for the two of you to eat.

Sitting down, you watched mesmerised as she cooked, it looking almost like she was dancing around the kitchen, you knew you could never be as graceful as her but she also had extensive training which aided with her movements. Your core clenched though as her vest continued to ride up on her hips, exposing more of her stomach and you wanted nothing more than to lick the area.

"Having fun over there?" Natasha asked with a wicked smirk plastered on her beautiful face as she observed your wandering eyes and the shifting you were doing on the chair with your obvious arousal.

You bite your lip to hide your grin at being caught, not quite finding the words to respond that wasn't a request to take her clothes off so you distracted yourself by drinking the glass of water that was already placed on the table.

The two of you ate and chatted about Natasha's teammates, especially Tony who had sent about 50 invitations to you to join the numerous events that were coming up that the Avengers had to attend, hoping you would accept one so he could bombard you with questions.

You both had decided that you'd attend one eventually, increasing the security would be easier now as you didn't need to hide away. This new found freedom was exhilarating and you couldn't wait to walk down the street, holding her hand and showing everyone that she was yours.

Scrapping the plate clean and moaning at how good the food tasted, you stood to wash up the plates but once again, Natasha was grabbing the plates from your hands, moving over to the sink and placing them into the warm water.

"We can do that later", she informed, extending her slender hand for you to take and leading the way towards the bedroom. The two of you lay in the centre of the bed, your eyes were already heavy, you hadn't realised just how tired you were, with a full stomach and it had been the most you'd moved in days and had exhausted you quickly.

You felt bad having teased her and attempted to reach for her but she easily held down your arms, pulling your body against hers, fingers moving delicately across your scalp in a calming manner. "Get some sleep baby, I'll be here when you wake up".

When you finally woke, you were greeted with the peaceful sight of Natasha also sleeping, her features completely relaxed. Watching her for a moment, you carefully lifted your hand, attempting to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear but in a blink, your hand was stopped in midair as Natasha gripped your wrist.

You grinned as she opened her eyes, "It's really creepy when you do that".

Natasha's plump lips tilted into a smirk, her eyes flicking across your face as she bought your wrist up to her mouth, kissing the sensitive skin on the inside that sent a shiver through your spine. "You love how quick I am, really", she teased, her voice completely sultry to match the darkening look in her eyes.

"I love everything about you", you countered, leaning closer, finally closing the gap between your lips. Both of you released a heavy sigh, breaths fanning across each other's faces at finally touching. Your skin burned instantly, feeling like there were tiny electric pulses coming from wherever your skin met and it always felt like that when it was with your soulmate, intense and powerful.

Natasha broke the kiss first but only to move down your cheek, on her own journey to reach your lobe, nibbling the sensitive flesh between her teeth that caused a deep moan to vibrate in your chest as your fingers reached for the thin straps on her shoulders, efficiently pushing them down.

"My Milaya", Natasha whispered against your ear, her fingers, pushing underneath your shirt to do their own exploration. Just before the tips of your fingers began to graze over her now exposed breasts, she pushed you fully onto your back, easily rolling on top, straddling over your abdomen her shoulder-length hair falling and framing her face as she leaned over you. "Let me make you feel good".

You mewled in response, admiring the beauty that she was, the way her lips parted and shined in the light, the straps dropped off of her shoulder that allowed for her vest to drop and reveal her perked breasts that were desperate to be touched. A finger slid under your chin as she looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You're so beautiful Natalia", you praised, hoping your eyes showed as much affection as your words did. Natasha's shoulders visibly dropped with love at the use of her birth name before she was leaning over you and kissing you fiercely, desperately moving, tongue pushing and flicking against your own, both moaning as you could taste each other.

Your hips lifted trying to find some friction but ended up grinding against Nat who groaned at the contact, her fingers suddenly reaching to grasp the edges of her vest, pausing the kiss for a second so she could remove the offensive material before moving back down to your mouth.

It felt so good to have her chest naked, rubbing against your t-shirt, that she was willing to be so bare before you. Your fingers caressed down her spine first before pulling around to the front, grazing over her scars and careful of her still healing bruised ribs that didn't seem to phase Nat anymore as you finally cupped her tits.

You felt the weight of them against your palm, squishing the beautiful flesh before tweaking her pretty nipples, earning a grind down from Nat's hips on your abdomen. Smiling against her mouth, you knew she had ultra-sensitive nipples which only made it more fun to play with them, hearing the desperate little moans she would release.

Suddenly, you were left cold and reaching for more as Nat sat up, pushing her hair out of her face as she looked down at you, "take off your clothes", she demanded whilst climbing off of your lap to remove her joggers speedily. You did as instructed, first removing your shirt and then your underwear before lying back down and Nat was straight away straddling your body again.

With no layers of material between the two of you, her bare, noticeably wet cunt now lay against your abdomen. Your hands went to her hips to grind her hips further against you, making her rock her body against yours as she leaned down once more to kiss you, your breasts rubbing together as her pussy rolled against your stomach.

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good", Nat whispered breathlessly against your neck of which she had moved to leave open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin.

You chuckled, releasing her hip with one hand to reach between your bodies to play with her nipple again, feeling the vibration of her moan melt into where your chests touched. "You are making me feel good", you responded just as breathlessly, rubbing your thighs together and feeling how wet you were.

The assassin suddenly moved, half climbing down your body and moving one of your legs over her hip, lowering her hips and then her cunt was stroking against yours. The two of you moaned, and your eyes flicked between her now swollen parted lips and where her hips began rolling against yours, your clit brushing against yours, both of your juices mixing together.

You matched her movements, gripping onto the leg that she had positioned over yours still, your hips rolling with hers, both gasping and mewling as your clits were rubbed and swiped against each other.

"Feel so good baby", Natasha praised, her hand coming up to cup against your breast, massaging the flesh slowly to match the thrusting of her hips. Your head flung back as she tweaked your pebbled nipples as she pressed especially hard against your clit. "Do you like when I rub on you Milaya?" she asked you, feeling her cunt pulse with arousal at seeing you experience such pleasure.

"Yes, feel so so good", you groaned, also reaching up to play with her tits, before sitting up slightly and pulling her face down, kissing her desperately as you both chased your highs, clits still sliding against one another with how wet you both were.

You were so close, your core beginning to tighten as you began to chant her name like a prayer, needing and wanting her, begging not to stop as Natasha was responding with just as much desperation.

Your cunt then started fluttering as you came, hands gripping onto Natasha hard enough that you were sure to leave bruises but it just felt so good that you couldn't stop. Natasha continued her movements for a few further minutes, finding her own release with a beautiful gasp.

You had planned for her to catch her breath but she was moving before you could comprehend that she was, your legs being pushed back against your chest to expose your soaked cunt to her as she lay down on her stomach, eyes connecting with yours as her mouth dropped to your pussy.

She began by licking up everything you had spilt, moaning at the taste of yours and her juices, tongue pushing through your folds before teasing your hole that was still twitching to be filled. Your hands replaced hers with holding up your leg, of which she gave a long lick up your entire middle as a reward, now freeing up her hands. With one, she spread you open, giving her the perfect view of your clit and hole and then she was diving right in, her lips sealing around your clit and sucking whilst two of her powerful fingers pushed inside of you, curling instantly about your special spot.

"Oh my god- Natasha!" you moaned, and you could feel her smiling against your bundle of nerves at your reaction, seeing your eyes closed to concentrate solely on the pleasure that was being given you. This was all you had wanted for weeks, to be with her, spend time touching and pleasuring each other's bodies, feel the bond glowing and strengthening with the time spent together.

Natasha's skilled tongue and fingers drew a toe-curling orgasm out of you, your back arching to try and grind your hips on her face. She had been a master at work, her eyes never leaving your face as she watched you go through all the stages of pleasure.

You were then rolling the two of you over, and you wanted nothing more than repay her with your tongue but you still had to be careful of the stitches on your forehead. So instead, you used your fingers in her soaking cunt and your mouth sucked leisurely on her nipples which had her clenching around your fingers, your thumb stroking against her throbbing clit.

"Milaya, don't stop", Natasha cried out, hands clenching into the sheet below, her thighs shaking around your hand, a pink glow to her cheeks as she watched you move from one breast to the next. You didn't stop, wouldn't stop until she was cuming around you and the way her walls were becoming tighter, her breaths coming out in short bursts you knew it would be soon.

"Cum for me 'Tasha, wanna hear your moans", you encouraged after releasing her nipple for a second and then going straight back to sucking it harshly into the back of your mouth.

"Ah! Yes-!", Nat's eyes rolled back as she began quivering around your fingers and you didn't stop your movements, making sure to draw out every ounce of pleasure that you could, until her hips jolted through overstimulation.

Easing your fingers out of you, you quickly drew them to your mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of her before she was sitting up and kissed your lips. Her tongue stroked against yours and you could taste yourself on her, and you hoped she could do the same taste herself on your mouth.

Then you were both collapsing into the middle of the bed, limbs tangled together facing one another and trying to catch your breaths, sweat glistening off of your bodies. Smiling softly at her beautiful expression, feeling her thumb stroke near to your stitches, you asked, "what's going on in that head of yours?"

"I'm just thankful you're here with me, I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you", she admitted in nothing more than a whispering volume.

Reaching to take her hand in your own, you kissed her knuckles, feeling the scars beneath your lips, "You don't ever have to worry about that baby".

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha smut #marvel smut #marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow smut #black widow one shot #soulmate au #mine*

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lnfours · 1 month

Note

* ✰. — make a friendship bracelet

maybe “invisible string” in like a soulmate au or something like that? i feel like that could be so so cute

oh. my. god. im a sucker for a soulmate au.

join the 11k celebration!

they say that when you find your soulmate, they’re outlined in a thin, gold line. something that everyone looks forward to after their 18th birthday, some even setting out on new adventures just to find the one they’re supposed to be with forever.

your friends had all found theirs, making it official and tying the knot because that’s what you’re supposed to do. it had made you wonder if somehow, someway, you were left out of this world everyone got to be apart of. all these years on this planet and not a single person with a gold line around them.

some say you can’t go looking for them, that your soulmate has to come to you. but at this point, you had lost all hope. you had stopped waiting years back, accepting your fate that you would just be alone forever.

you were rushing on the paddock, already running a little behind because of the traffic at the gate. today was your first day in the booth with sky sports, a moment you had been working hard for since joining their internship program. and now was finally your chance and it was looking like you weren’t going to make a very great first impression.

you weren’t paying attention, looking down at the time on your phone when your body collided with another hard one. it sent the coffee you had been carrying down the front of you, your shriek catching his ears.

“oh fuck, i’m so sorry.”

“oh for fucks sake,” you mumbled, looking down at your top that was clearly ruined. once white linen now stained taupe.

“are you okay? i’m so sorry, i didn’t see…” he trailed off.

you picked your head up from your shirt, locking eyes with his. you were face to face with lando norris, the rookie driver for mclaren. his first season in formula one.

and a thin, gold line surrounding the man in front of you.

“you see it too?” he asked.

you nodded, “yeah,”

he looked over your facial features, excitement ringing in his bones as he had finally found his soulmate. and it was the most beautiful girl had ever seen in his life.

“we might have some spare team shirts,” he pointed his thumb to the hospitality area behind him, “if you wanna..”

you shook your head, “it’s alright, i think my boss might question why i’m in papaya colors.”

he smiled, looking down at the badge that hung around your neck. he noticed your name and the sky sports logo underneath.

“can i at least walk you? let them know why you’re late and smell like coffee?”

you laughed softly, nodding your head, “yeah, i’d like that.”

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lives-in-midgard · 7 months

Text

My Soulmate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After years of not knowing your soulmate you finally find him.

Word Count: 1.232

A/N: Hey everyone! This has been in my drafts for a while now and this is my first time writing for a soulmate AU, so I hope you like it!

Masterlist

In the world you live, people believe in soulmates, not only do they believe in soulmates. They are real! Because when you are in the same room as your soulmate you get a tattoo with his or her initials on your wrist. Some people get them when they are 5 years, some when they are 13 years, some with 18 and then there is you who still hasn’t gotten yours. Every day you see people with their soulmate being happy and your friends ask you so often if you have one but you always have to shake your head and say no. After so many years of hoping that you’ll find yours, you started to think that maybe you don’t have one. Or maybe your soulmate lives in another country or died. Or maybe your soulmate wouldn’t like you? Everything is possible you thought. So many different scenarios were going through your head at some days. But what you didn’t know was that you’ll meet your soulmate very soon.

It started as a normal day. Before work you drove to your favorite coffee shop to pick up a coffee to go and drive to work. You walked in and ordered your coffee.

“Like always?” The friendly worker asked, and you nodded. While you waited for your coffee, you looked around and saw a few familiar faces but also two guys with caps and glasses on you haven’t seen before. You didn’t know why but they looked like they didn’t want to get recognized. You took a closer look at the blonde one and he kinda looked familiar, but you didn’t know why. Then you could see how the guy with the blonde hair showed the other one with brown hair something on his phone. Then you heard him laughing and wow he had a beautiful smile you thought.

“Your coffee is ready y/n.” You turned around and looked away from these two handsome men.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile and turned around. When you walked out you walked past the men, and the brown haired one smiled at you. You smiled back and said “Hi” to him. Then you walked out to your car. In your car you took a sip from your coffee and then started to drive away. While driving you somehow looked at your wrist and saw three initials on it.

“Oh my god.” You said to yourself and looked back at the street again. Then you looked for a parking lot and saw one near you. After you parked the car, you took a closer look of your tattoo.

J.B.B.

Who could that be? How long do you have it? It must have happened when you were in the coffee shop, right? But there were only people who were there often and who you knew. Wait! You took a deep breath. There were two guys that you saw for the first time. It had to be one of those guys! But who? And what is his name?

You couldn’t believe that you just really found your soulmate! But how can you see him again? Will you even ever see him again?

Your mind started to go crazy with so many questions going through your head. When you suddenly realized why you where there. You were about to drive to work. You looked at your clock and saw that you only have a few minutes left. You looked at the tattoo for the last time. And when you ran your finger over the initials a smile escaped you.

“J.B.B.” You whispered to yourself and smiled.

Your best friend from work immediately knew that something happened when she saw your smile. You showed her your wrist and told her that you think that it must be one of those guys you saw. She said that she will try to help you find him, but you only knew how he looked like and his initials. It’s nearly impossible to find him. But your friend assured you that you will find him.

The same time you found your tattoo was also the same time Bucky discovered his. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He thought he didn’t have one, especially after Hydra. Or that you lived back in the 40s and he couldn’t meet you because of what had happened. Bucky showed it to Steve, and he got so excited for his best friend because he knew how Bucky was feeling about it. For Bucky it was even harder to guess who you could be because he never went to that coffee shop before, and it could be anyone there. But somehow Bucky always had to think of you. He only saw you for a few seconds, but he remembered you with your beautiful smile and the shy little “hi” you said to him. Bucky went back to that coffee shop almost every day in the hope to find you there. You two always missed each other sometimes only for a few minutes. But Bucky didn’t give up.

Days and even weeks passed, and you didn’t see your soulmate again. But you didn’t lose hope that you will find him again. You walked into the coffee shop like almost every day and ordered your coffee. Then you went back to your car, you wanted to drive home after that hard day at work. You were about to open the car door when suddenly someone behind you shouted.

“Hey, I think you dropped something.” You heard and turned around. You couldn’t believe who you saw, it was the brown haired one, you saw weeks ago. The one who could be your soulmate. He was holding your bracelet in his hand.

“Oh, yes that’s mine. Thank you so much.” You said while he walked over to you.

“No problem.” He said and smiled at you.

“Oh, hey it’s you.” Bucky said with excitement when he got near you.

“You remember me?”

“Of course, I do. How could I forget that beautiful smile.” Bucky said and made you blush.

“Oh, your bracelet.” Bucky held out your bracelet.

“Would you put it on me, please.”

“Sure.” When Bucky put it on your wrist you noticed that his left arm was of a black metal. You didn’t have much time to think about that because then he started to introduce himself.

“I’m Bucky Barnes.” Wait? Bucky Barnes? You must have heard of him before.

“Do…you maybe have a second name too?” You nervously asked and he looked kinda confused why you wanted to know that.

“I have, but why-” Bucky got nervous, so you decided to tell him why.

“Because my name is Y/n l/n.” You said and then showed Bucky the tattoo on your wrist. He looked at the tattoo and then back to you. Then Bucky turned his right arm to you, and you saw your name on it.

“You are …. We are.” Bucky started to say.

“Soulmates.” You both said at the same time and chuckled. Then Bucky moved closer to you and tucked a hair behind your ear.

“I know this might be too soon, but you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.” Bucky said and looked into your eyes to see if you want that kiss too. You smiled at him and made the last step that was between the two of you.

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amiableness · 2 months

Text

Promises

Pairing: Remus Lupink x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Remus get glimpses of their past life every time they touch

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: soulmate!au, past life memories, angst

A/N 💌 Repost!

September 10th, 1973

It felt strangely familiar, an echo from a distant memory. There was something about him that sparked recognition as if you had known him once before. But it wasn’t possible. You had never crossed paths with this boy, never encountered him before. You were sure of it; his presence would have left a mark on your memory.

But every detail about him resonated with a sense of familiarity. You knew him, but you had never met him before.

From the tousled brown locks to the warmth in his soft brown eyes, radiating kindness. His shy smile, a flicker of vulnerability, and genuine warmth illuminated his face, setting a flutter through your stomach. The array of scars that adorned his pale skin. Even the way he laughed, with a genuine, carefree spirit, stirred something deep within—a flicker of recognition that lingered on the edges of your consciousness, waiting to be deciphered.

You stood, transfixed, in the bustling hallway of Hogwarts. Despite the pressing hour, the pull in your chest diverted your attention. Your feet rooted to the spot, your gaze drawn irresistibly to the boy just a few steps away.

Resisting the compelling urge to draw nearer, to feel his presence close to yours, you inhaled deeply, the weight of the moment heavy on your chest. Mentally preparing to pivot and stride toward your classroom, you hesitated. Then, his eyes met yours, a silent connection that arrested your heart, suffusing your being with a comforting warmth. It was a sensation of profound familiarity, akin to the embrace of a beloved after prolonged separation or the gentle touch of sunlight after days shrouded in rain.

You had met him before; you were sure of it now.

November 7th, 1975

It didn’t take long to learn his name: Remus Lupin.

In the years following your initial encounter with him, his renown had grown significantly. As one of the four marauders, his presence resonated throughout the castle and was recognized by nearly everyone. He was regarded as sensible and known for his unwavering loyalty, boundless kindness, and selfless nature.

You had never engaged in conversation with him, finding solace in silently observing from a distance. However, in those infrequent moments when your gaze met his, it felt as if time itself paused, and a unique connection formed between you two. The surroundings faded away, leaving only the quiet acknowledgment shared in those silent exchanges.

It was as if your souls recognized each other, whispering of an unspoken history. Was that possible?

Your grandmother often spoke of soulmates, eagerly sharing the story of how she had met your grandfather and instantly recognized him as the one. She would describe a sense of familiarity that enveloped her, as though she had loved him in a past life.

You had often questioned whether she genuinely believed her own words or if she had merely embellished the tale. Yet, when you gazed at Remus Lupin, understanding settled within you.

You were left in contemplation after every transporting glance, wondering whether he sensed the same inexplicable connection.

“Oh shit!” Lost in your thoughts, you scarcely registered the collision as a body slammed into your back, sending your book tumbling from your grasp with a resounding thunk against the ground. Startled, you whirl around, only to meet the panicked gaze of Sirius Black staring back at you.

"Merlin, I am so sorry!" Sirius sputters, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady you on the shoulder. James and Peter stand behind him, their expressions clouded with guilt.

It was clear they were caught up in roughhousing. Yet, what caught you off guard was seeing all three of them lingering near the entrance to the classroom. Normally, they'd dash in just moments before being tardy. In contrast, you tended to arrive early, relishing the calm before the storm of class. You had been leaning against the cold stone, lost in your thoughts, when Sirius collided into you with unexpected force.

Your eyes dart between each of the boys, searching for someone. Then, a voice interrupts your thoughts, and you find what you're looking for: "Here."

Remus Lupin stands before you, extending your battered copy of Jane Eyre in his outstretched hand. Your breath seems to have escaped your lungs, stolen by the moment, and your eyes are locked onto him. It's the closest you've ever been to him, and perhaps that's for the best, because every inch of your body tingles as if electrified.

"Thank you." You manage to mutter, your voice barely above a breath. As you reach out to take the book, your fingers accidentally skim over his thumb. Surprised, your eyes flicker down to where your skin brushed against his, simultaneously with Remus's gaze.

Instantaneously, a memory rushes back to you in an overwhelming wave.

The gentle pressure of his hands on your waist as he twirls you around, the velvety tones of Billie Holiday’s voice emanating from the radio, the lingering aroma of dinner in the air, and the subtle taste of wine still lingering on your tongue.

As you sway to the rhythm, the soft glow of candlelight flickers, casting dancing shadows across the living room. The warmth of his touch, the gentle embrace of the wine settling in your belly, and the enchanting melody of the music all conspire to lull you into a state of contentment.

"I'll love you forever, m’love." He whispers softly, his gaze tender as he looks down at you. Your hair, elegantly styled, frames your face, and your lips, once adorned with a striking red, are now muted from the repeated press of the wine glass.

"I don't want you to go." You whisper, your voice barely audible, grappling with the looming prospect of his deployment. The mere thought of him not returning home to you tightens your throat, anticipating the tears that threaten to spill.

“I’ll always come back to you.” He promises, holding you tighter to him.

Remus jerks away from you, his expression mirroring the shock reverberating through you. Locked in a silent exchange of wide-eyed astonishment, you both stand there, grappling with the undeniable connection that just surged between you. There's no denying it; he must have felt it too. The way he’s looking at you

Sirius, James, and Peter observe the two of you with perplexed expressions etched on their faces. With a muttered excuse me, you swiftly twirl around and stride into the classroom, leaving Remus to stare after you, his expression frozen in dumbfounded shock.

January 5th, 1976

For a week straight, the boys badgered Remus, demanding to know what had transpired between him and his Jane. Sirius had taken to calling you Jane, as none of the boys knew your actual name. Despite their persistence, Remus staunchly refused, adamantly denying that anything had happened at all.

In truth, he harbored a desire to hold onto the peculiar memory ignited by your touch. It felt astonishingly real, almost tangible in its vividness. Yet, he found himself at a loss for how to comprehend it, let alone process it, so he chose to bury it instead.

"There's Jane!" James exclaims, pointing you out as you navigate your way to the Hufflepuff table, settling in among your friends.

Lily's brow furrows. "Her name isn't Jane."

Suddenly intrigued by the conversation, Remus interjects, "You know her name?"

As Lily says your name, Remus feels that same jolt of familiarity he's experienced just a few months before, and every time he sees you, really. He repeats it incessantly in his mind, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of familiarity that sends shivers down his spine. He's uttered this name before, though the memory remains elusive, haunting him like a half-remembered dream.

His mind drifts back, enveloped in the memory of twirling you around the cozy living room, the soft glow of candlelight casting shadows on the walls. He recalls the sensation of holding you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and the gentle brush of your wine-stained lips against his own. The faint scent of dinner lingering in the air, mingling with the sweet notes of the wine, creating an ambiance that he can almost reach out and touch. It's a memory so vivid, it's as if he's transported back to that moment, reliving every detail with startling clarity.

"Is she in our year?" Sirius asks, casting a curious glance at Remus, who appears just as dazed as he did the moment he touched you, lost in a world of his own thoughts.

"Yeah, she's incredibly sweet. I've been partnered with her in Potions before. Oddly enough, she sort of reminds me of Remus," Lily remarks, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. The boys steal a glance at Remus, who appears visibly startled by Lily's comparison.

"You know what's funny—" James begins, but before he can finish, Remus stands up abruptly, snatching his bag. He's not interested in James's humor at the moment; all he wants is to escape. His mind is a whirlwind, consumed by thoughts of you, and he can't shake them off.

"Don't feel very good, I'm gonna go lie down." He mutters gruffly before turning to walk away. His friends watch him depart, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

February 2nd, 1976

You had convinced yourself that whatever you felt, that haunting memory, was merely a byproduct of sleep deprivation. It had to have been, how else could you have explained it? Yet, each time your paths intersected and your gazes met, that inexplicable sense of familiarity would wash over you, leaving you grappling with unspoken emotions.

It had been a few months since the moment you and Remus had touched, yet the memory continued to flicker vividly in your mind, haunting your thoughts nearly every day. You longed for the presence of your grandmother, wishing you could confide in her about the inexplicable connection you felt. Somehow, you knew she would have an explanation for you.

But deep down, you knew her inevitable conclusion: soulmates.

Soulmates weren’t real, it was just a term to describe how strongly two people felt about each other, right? You hadn't encountered anyone else who described an experience quite like yours. It seemed improbable, almost inconceivable.

But what else could it be? Perhaps, against all reason, you and Remus were soulmates. The idea hit you so abruptly that you found yourself momentarily breathless, nearly stumbling over your own feet. Shaking off the profound realization, you forced yourself to let go of thoughts about Remus and refocus on the present. Class is about to start, and you're not there yet — that needs your immediate attention.

As you collide with someone, you instinctively know it's Remus before you even lay eyes on him. His hand finds your waist, anchoring you, and your own hands fly to his shoulder, seeking stability.

There it is again, a newfound memory crashing into you.

"Promise me." Your voice pleads, your hands clinging tightly to his as you gaze up at him. Tears shimmer in your eyes, and you fight to keep them from falling, not wanting to add to his burden. Despite his attempts to hide it, he’s scared, and you can see right through his facade.

The sounds of farewells fill the air around you: children weeping, wives professing their love to their husbands, mothers ensuring their sons have everything they need. It's a cacophony of heartache, the anguish in everyone's voice echoing the weight of impending separation.

You despise it all, an urge to turn around and head home with him tugging at your heartstrings.

"I promise you. I will do everything in my power to make it back to you.” He vows, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. A sob escapes your lips as you cling to him tightly, unwilling to let go.

"M’love," He begins, his fingers tenderly brushing over your hair, a gentle attempt to offer solace in the face of overwhelming emotions. He understands his limitations, knowing he can only do so much. "I need you to look at me."

You comply, meeting his gaze. He presses your foreheads together, his hands cradling your cheeks. Tears cascade down your cheeks unabated, and you flinch at the anguished cries of a woman bidding farewell to her son nearby.

“I will come back to you, whether it’s in this life or the next. D’you hear me?”

You're the one who instinctively pulls away from Remus this time, a shiver coursing through you as the memory floods your senses. From the look on his face, etched with bewilderment and disbelief, you can tell he's relived the same haunting recollection.

"I don't understand," he starts, his hands momentarily rubbing at his eyes in a gesture of disbelief. He lowers them, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that speaks volumes. "Tell me you saw it too," his voice trembles, a whisper weighted with uncertainty.

"I did," you confirm softly, feeling a surge of empathy. Taking a tentative step closer, you meet his gaze with reassurance. "Can I touch you again? I just want to see..” Your voice trails off as Remus nods and comes closer.

The hallways are deserted now, the notion of attending class fading into oblivion for both of you.

Remus extends his hand towards you, and you delicately place yours in his. Your hand trembles, betraying the bubbling of emotions within you, and Remus draws you closer as he notices.

The memory continues on easily in his grasp.

"You have to come back, I can't do this without you," You implore him, your voice trembling with emotion.

"You can, you have before." He reminds you gently, his thumb tenderly brushing away the tears on your cheeks.

"It's not the same without you." You insist, your heart heavy with the weight of impending separation.

He yearns to remind you of the countless lifetimes you've shared together, where even amidst separation in one, you've always managed to find each other again in the next. You know this, but it doesn’t make the pain of it any easier on either of you.

"We always find our way back to each other. No matter what happens, we'll find each other again." He assures you, his voice filled with unwavering conviction.

"We're soulmates." Remus murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it reverberates through the air, heavy with emotion. Tears glisten in your eyes at the weight of his words, a confirmation of what your heart has always known.

"We are." You affirm softly, your voice trembling with shock. With a surge of emotion, you toss your arms over his shoulders, seeking solace in his embrace. Remus responds immediately, enfolding you in his arms, holding you close as if he never intends to let go.

It feels like coming home.

#remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin angst #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders #remus lupin soulmate au #soulmate!remus lupin #soulmate!remus lupin x reader #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin headcanon

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sammy-is-not-smiley · 1 year

Text

Let It Hurt (Pt 2)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader (afab)

Summary: Steve has been your best friend for years despite his douchery in early high school. You would tell him anything... well, anything except for the fact that you've been feeling his physical pain since elementary school. The way he finds out is less than ideal. But he's been keeping secrets of his own...

Word Count: 5.2k (I went nuts lol)

Warnings/Tags: Soulmate au (kinda), language, no use of (y/n), depictions of severe pain, depictions of torture, injuries mentioned, crying, kind of a breakdown, angst, a period is mentioned so reader is afab, set in season 3, soulmates to lovers, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort (yes there's eventually comfort this time, I promise)

A/N: GOOD GOD Y'ALL I did not expect the last one to absolutely blow up. I've gained like an extra 100 followers from all this so thank you so much. I wouldn't have written something so loved if I hadn't gotten a request. If you have an idea you wanna entrust me to write, don't hesitate to jump in my asks! I love hearing from people. (p.s. angst is my favorite to write) Now here's your part 2!

Part 1: Right Here!

You awoke to echoes of screaming. You didn't want to open your eyes, the light in the room behind your eyelids was already making your head throb with a vengeance.

"Help!! Someone, help!" Robin's desperate voice rang out, the sound bouncing off the walls and judding into your skull. It was then you realized you were sat up, straps compressing your legs, arms, and chest. You were bound even more than before.

"Hey, would you stop yellin'?" You heard Steve's voice grumble behind you.

It took you a moment to register it was him, but when you did, a small light of hope lit up in your chest. You lifted your head up slightly, trying to take in a breath. The pain in your head stemmed down your neck now. In fact, it encapsulated your entire skull.

"Steve! Oh my god," Robin exclaimed, still a bit too loud for your taste.

"Steve?" You croaked out.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, you're both awake," She chuckled slightly, simply out of disbelief. "Both awake. Um, are- are you okay?"

You shook your head no as if she could see from where she sat behind you.

Steve took in a breath. "My ears are ringing, I can't really breathe, and my eye feels like it's about to pop out of my skull…"

"That checks out," You muttered, not intending for anyone to hear. Nobody seemed to.

"But you know, apart from that… I'm doing pretty good." He finished, his nose sounding stuffy. They really liked hitting his nose.

Robin let out a breath. "Alright, well, the good news is they're calling a doctor for you both."

There was a moment of silence before Steve registered her words. "Both?" You felt him turn slightly in your direction. "They hurt you?"

"No," You quickly replied.

"Wait, I thought-"

"Robin, shush," You snapped too loud, making your head throb again.

It was silent once more as Robin connected the dots. Steve didn't know, and you didn't want him to know. "Right, no, I meant… I meant just for you Steve."

"They didn't hurt me," You tried to reinforce. "Robin's just… tired."

"Oh." He uttered, clearly confused.

"Hey, guys," Robin changed the subject. "I have an idea. Steve, you see that table to your right?"

You felt Steve turn his head to your side.

"No, your other right."

"Oh," Steve looked the other way. Apparently the table was behind where you sat.

"You see those scissors?"

"Uh-huh."

"I think if we moved at the same time, we could move over there, I could maybe kick the table, and knock them into my lap."

You snorted, turning your head in her direction. "They left scissors in here with us?"

"What morons," Steve laughed. He was definitely letting on that he was doing better than he felt.

At the count of three, you all scooched in unison, Steve and Robin to their side, you backwards. Just as you finally were seeing some light at the end of the tunnel, only a mere few feet from the table, you all over shot your momentum. All together as a unit, the chairs slid out from under you and you all fell to the floor with a hefty clank of the chairs.

At first you groaned, but then a grin slowly spread across your face. "Shit," You giggled with no choice but to look up at the ceiling as you laid on your back. This was all insane. Absolutely insane.

Robin was obviously feeling the same as she began giggling as well. She shook under you, small squeaks bubbling from her.

"You- You guys okay?" Steve asked, clearly not gathering what could be so funny to you both.

"This is fucking ridiculous," You half suppressed a laugh.

You felt Robin nodding. "I can't believe I'm gonna die in a secret Russian base in a sailor costume." You could hear the smile on her face, jovial despite the situation. The comment only made you laugh harder.

Just as your giggles died down, the door burst open once again and men flooded the room. Your giddy moods were cut short, instantly replaced with terror. Over you now stood a man in uniform, obviously some sort of high ranking official, probably the man in charge. He towered over you, shaking his head and tutting.

"You wake up too, eh? Good," He smirked, looking over the predicament you three had gotten yourselves into. "Where did you think you were going?"

He gestured with his hand, motioning the men in the room to lift you all back upright in your chairs.

"P-please-" You nearly whimpered when sat back up, nothing on your mind but to simply beg. What for, you weren't sure yet, but you were scared and desperate.

"Let us try again," The man said, ignoring your plea. Slowly, he circled around you all, like a predator observing prey, before making it back around to Steve.

Your eyes followed the man as he brought his hand up and thumbed Steve's busted lip. Not only did it elicit a wince from Steve, but you as well.

Your stomach dropped as soon as it happened, making you quickly turn your head away from the man hoping he didn't notice. However, the tingling on your neck told you he had, and he was staring right at you.

"Don't touch him," You breathed. It came out a lot less menacing than you intended.

The man hummed, standing up straight again and murmured something in Russian to one of the men. You watched as the guard walked over to Steve, grabbing him by the hair and raising a fist.

"Wait, stop!" You jolted, fighting against your restraints.

Steve struggled as well, gritting his teeth. "No, no, no, no-"

"Shush!" The general yelled, driving a spike of pain into your skull. He leaned down in front of you, eyes squinted, analyzing you for a moment. Then a question. "Who do you work for?"

"Scoops Ahoy," You responded like it was obvious.

Without hesitation, the guard over Steve delivered a swift blow to the eye socket. You yelped in pain as Steve groaned, now being held up by his hair. You on the other hand were allowed to drop your head, once again tasked with withstanding the pain.

Your breath stuttered in your throat. "Please, s-stop, it… It hurts…"

The general tilted his head, then grasped your chin roughly, tilting your head up and tilting from side to side as he examined you. There were no notable injuries on your person. Other than squinting the same eye as Steve's bruised one, not a scratch was on you. You wanted to kick yourself when you realized he took notice of it, glancing between you and Steve.

His brow was together in thought as he once again gave a command you didn't understand.

Another punch to Steve's jaw made you flinch in the general's hand, pitifully letting out a sob.

Another command, another punch, right into Steve's aching ribs.

If not for the straps holding you upright, you would have once again doubled over. Instead you only moved slightly against the mans hand, your abdomen visibly tensing.

"Stop! Stop it, you bastards!" Robin screamed, however to no avail as she was promptly ignored.

The general let you go as you silently suffered again, standing upright and smiling down at you. "Very interesting…"

The men scattered around the room as soon as another command was uttered from the man's mouth. Hands surrounded you all as the men tugged and removed the straps holding you as a unit only to strap you down again, individually in each of your chairs this time. They pushed Robin into the corner of the room, then grabbed Steve and slid him in front of you to face you. Only then did you see the extent of his wounds. Dried blood smeared on his face from an obvious nose bleed, uniform stained red, his eye a deep shade of purple and nearly swollen shut. Anger bubbled over inside you at the sight, making you finally find your voice.

"Don't touch him, he's had enough!"

The general simply smiled at you as he pulled a red handkerchief from his pocket, then circled around behind you.

The last thing you saw was Steve, worry written all over his face. Then you were shrouded in darkness as the handkerchief was pulled over your eyes, secured at the back of your head.

"What are you doing?" Steve panted as he watched. "Don't you dare hurt her, I swear, if you do anything to her-"

"Oh, not to worry," The man behind you interrupted dismissively. You could hear his footsteps walking around you back to Steve. Your teeth began to chatter as your adrenaline was surely hitting its peak now.

What did they not want you to see?

"We will not hurt her. Only you will."

"What-"

"Just sit. Watch your friend carefully, hm?"

It was silent for a moment before there were footsteps again, then Steve burst to life. "What is that? Wait, no, stop, get that away- Agh!"

Pain instantly webbed over two of your fingers as if they were slowly being crushed by a tool. You fought your restraints and flexed the hand in question, small whimpers emitting from you helplessly.

The pain gradually got worse as Steve yelled and begged, as did you. Then it steadied to a single ongoing pain. "Stop-" A cry slipped from you.

"Where is the pain, little one?" The man called over to you.

You shook your head, mostly in confusion, but the man interpreted it as resistance.

The pain fluctuated, making you lurch. "Agh- Th-the hand! His fingers, the first two fingers," You sobbed in defeat. "Stop, stop, please stop, make it stop…"

The pain was relieved then, if only enough to assure you they weren't going to break Steve's fingers. The ache of a bruise would remain and you flexed your hand again as if it would help. You still let out a sigh of relief.

Light stung your eyes when the blindfold was pulled off, now soaked with tears. When your eyes adjusted, you looked up to meet the half swollen gaze of Steve. Realization, hurt, sympathy, horror, all of it was draped over his face like a thick veil as he stared back at you. You looked down and saw the red impressions on his fingers from whatever had been clamped down on them. Next to him stood a man in white, a metal tool held in his hand.

The general stood there, holding Steve's head up by the hair to watch you. The man's grin was borderline psychotic. "Congratulations, you were correct."

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, teeth still chattering. The jolly expression on the official's face told you he planned on using this new information completely against you. Especially the longer you overstayed your welcome.

The man in power looked over to the man in the white overcoat, the man you assumed was supposed to be the doctor Robin mentioned. Another command in Russian, and the doctor walked to the table behind you. You couldn't bring yourself to look up at anyone, especially Steve.

"Now, try telling the truth this time, yes?" The general asserted as he wandered his eyes over each one of you. They pulled Robin up next to you both again. "It will make your visit with Doctor Zharkov less painful."

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Your body swayed slightly before you let yourself lean back onto the side of the ambulance, watching the smoke rise. The mighty Starcourt was completely destroyed. Destroyed by a-… Well, you had yet to fully comprehend what it was and the events that had even transpired. All you were able to understand clearly was that you were alive, along with a couple adults, a group of middle schoolers, and your co-workers…. Could you technically call them co-workers now? Maybe just leaving it to friends was safer to say.

Your stomach was still a little queasy from whatever drug that doctor had injected you with, and your muscles ached from overexertion. Your eyes were so heavy they felt swollen, yet you knew if you laid down, sleep wouldn't come to you easily. Watching the last remaining flames and the smoke ahead of you was mesmerizing. Like you were sleeping with your eyes open.

The moment was broken as your face twitched a little in pain. Steve must have accidentally scratched his stitches again.

You hadn't looked at him since you all threw up in the bathrooms together. In fact, once you were sober, you had walked out claiming to need another drink of water from the fountain. After that, events happened so quickly you could hardly keep up. You were grateful at the time to have had something to distract you both with. Even now you were trying to distract yourself.

Bringing your hand up to your face you rubbed your forehead, a headache still refusing to leave you and Steve be. You'd come to accept that the pain probably wouldn't subside for a while.

Robin rounded the ambulance, wrapped in a security blanket. Her eyes were still red and it was clear she needed sleep as badly as you. Yet there you both were, still up and running.

"Hey… They look over you already?" Her voice was more gravely than usual, most likely from all the yelling she had done while you all were held hostage.

You nodded, still gazing at the wrecked mall. "Other than a couple bruises, I'm fine."

"Mm-hm," She hummed, clearly unconvinced.

"What?"

She rested her shoulder on the ambulance, leaning in closer. "Look… I don't fully understand a lot of what's happened, but I do think you need to talk to Steve. At least before we go home."

You sighed begrudgingly. You knew that was probably what you should do, yet all you wanted to do was hide from him. "What would I even say, Rob?" You mumbled.

She snorted then, causing you to look at her. "Dude, all you'd probably have to say to him is 'hi' before he'd do all the talking. He always has shit to talk about."

It was your turn to snort. "Yeah, sure…" You sniffled then, guilt blossoming in your chest. "It's… It's because of me they hurt him more…"

"Yeah… I-I mean no!" She caught herself, making you smile. "That all was just…. It was…. A lot. What was all that? With the Russians I mean, and the blindfold?"

By this point, and with everything you had gone through together, you thought Robin could handle what you've kept to yourself for so long. After all, your empathy with Steve was by far the tamest secret of the night.

You let your head rest back on the ambulance and closed your eyes. "I've been able to feel his pain ever since I was a kid," You let out in a breath.

When it was silent for longer than you liked, you looked to her worriedly. She was simply staring at you, looking as though she were thinking.

"You can feel his pain? Like, all of it?"

You nodded. "Physical, yeah."

It took her a moment more, hugging herself in the blanket as she thought. "That…. Makes sense actually." She snapped her fingers and pointed. "That's why they did that stuff, they tested you!"

You nodded, a shadow of gloom over your brow.

"And that's…. Why you passed out. Because he passed out."

Another nod.

"And he doesn't know, does he?"

You couldn't help but give a grin then, not one of joy, but more out of nihilism. "Of course not."

"And why, exactly?"

"I don't know, I just…. Got into the habit of keeping it from him. I think in general I was just scared. Scared I would scare him away or make life harder somehow." You hugged yourself, finding it hard to look at even Robin now. "I couldn't lose him… or bear him not believing me."

Robin began giggling, catching you off guard.

"What?"

She shook her head, dragging a hand down her tired face in exasperation. "I seriously doubt he would do any of that, especially after tonight. Also, you weren't in the bathroom when he talked about you."

"Talked about me?"

"Mm-hm," She nodded. "You're not the only one keeping secrets."

Your eyes widened and you pushed yourself off the ambulance. "The hell does that mean?"

"Nope, no more," She put her hands up defensively, "I wash my hands of this, I'm not enabling you any further."

"Oh, come on, Rob-"

"No! The only way you'll get more is if you talk to him yourself," She smirked. "Or do I have to actually drag you over there?" Her thumb thrown over her shoulder, she pointed to Steve in the neighboring ambulance, speaking with the paramedic. For the first time you looked past her to gaze at Steve, his shoulders sagged as he had an arm wrapped around his abdomen. You could feel the bruised ribs he was cradling.

You looked back at Robin, giving her a small pout. She returned it, although much more sarcastically. Simultaneously, you both broke out in smiles and giggles.

"You're a dick," You said, shaking your head.

"Only when you guys are idiots."

You rolled your eyes, turning to glance at Steve again. This time you caught him already looking at you, swollen eye and all. He raised his hand ever so slightly to offer a tiny wave, as if he were scared he would drive you away again.

You gave a tiny wave back.

"Fine," You muttered, walking past Robin and making your way over to him, eyes trained in the ground.

From this angle, the police car lights flickered blue and red over Steve's face, almost hiding the fact he was covered in purple bruises. Slowly you slipped next to him, sitting on the bumper between the open doors. Loose gravel crunched under your feet on the asphalt.

"Hi…"

"Hey…"

A shiver ran up your spine, but you weren't sure if it was from the breeze or your nerves.

"So, uh, Robin said I should talk to you."

He nodded, a single strand of grimy hair bouncing to his forehead. "Yeah, she told me to talk to you too."

You blew a puff of air out of your nose in a laugh. "Was that when you wouldn't stop talking about me in the bathrooms?"

Steve let out a laugh then, scratching the back of his head. "She told you what I said, huh?"

"Nah. Only that you said stuff. She left me on a cliffhanger just to get me to come over and talk to you," You dryly chuckled.

"Hm," He replied, "So you were kind of ignoring me after we got out."

You grimaced, looking down at your beat up shoes. "Yeah… Look, I'm sorry, I really didn't wan-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He interjected, turning to look right at you.

"... Tell you...?"

He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. "That you can feel this," He lifted his arm and pinched it.

Your hand balled into a fist at the pain and you looked away. Why were you still so scared? Why did you still feel so shameful about all of this?

"You figured that out, huh?"

Steve shifted himself closer, close enough now that your shoulders were touching. "I'm not upset, okay? I just…" He sighed. "It's all so crazy. How long have you been able to feel it— When I hurt?"

You chuckled lightly. "A while. Since like elementary school."

"Shit," His hand reached out and grasped yours. "Look, if I had known, I would've-"

"I know-"

"No, you don't," He turned himself to you, bare knee bumping yours. "You really don't know. You don't know how much I would have done differently. How much more I would've cared, how I would have treated you better, how I would have… How I would have stood up to my dad somehow…" He paused, then cleared his throat. "I wouldn't have thrown myself into fights as much if I knew you were out there feeling everything, thinking you couldn't say a thing about it. If I had known, I would've realized you understood me more than literally anyone I've ever met."

You could feel your nose begin to tingle, a clear warning of tears threatening to bubble up. You pursed your lips, not trusting yourself to reply.

Steve scooched even closer, his knee now pulled up and resting behind your back, his other on the ground. He smelled of sweat, smoke, and blood, yet somehow a small wisp of his cologne still lingered. It all mixed together into a scent that would only ever remind you of this night.

His warm hand left yours to delicately glide up your opposing cheek. You sniffed as he pulled your face to turn and look at him.

"If you had told me, I would have told you that I've felt things too."

Your brow softened when your eyes went round, your heart sinking to your stomach. "Things?"

His face went downcast for a moment, as if in some sort of regret. "Remember when you dislocated your wrist in 3rd grade? And I went and got help?"

You nodded. You remembered the teacher had come to help you after Steve ran off, but then he didn't come back. The next time you saw him wasn't until school the next day. You had been upset that he hadn't come back with the teacher to help or even come over to your house to see if you were okay after school. He had apologized when you went off on him, but that was all. As kids, it was easy to just forgive and move on. Play the next game of tag.

"You were pissed at me… I ran and hid from you because I felt it too." He scratched his chin, looking off at the demolished mall. "That was the first time. It freaked me the hell out. I felt when it happened, and I felt when they popped it back in a few hours later at the hospital. I could tell when you bumped it wrong or strained it. I could feel it all." He looked you dead in the eyes then. "And everything after that."

You shook your head, your brow laden with confusion as you put your hand over his on your face. "You never said anything either…"

He smiled softly and shrugged. "I didn't think you had to know. To be honest, I thought it was all just some weird hallucination or something."

Your expression shifted into one of disapproval.

"Oh don't you even," His smile grew at you, "You're just as guilty for not telling me."

"Yeah, I…. I know… I'm sorry," You muttered, the wounds scattered over his face taunting you again. While only a few hits had been delivered upon the discovery that Russian general had made about you, all of the injuries hurt the same. Both physically and otherwise. "I guess we all have our secrets."

Steve moved his other hand to cradle your face fully, his face moving closer to nearly rest his forehead on yours. While smiling only a second before, his eyes were now filled with something more serious. Something you had never seen directed at you before. It made your attention on him freeze and heat rise to the back of your neck.

"Well, while we're confessing secrets… Can I let one more slip?"

You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, which you quickly noticed kept darting down to your lips. Was he really doing this?

"You… have another?" You squeaked, voice barely audible.

He nodded. "If you'll let me show you?"

You dumbly nodded back, your mouth slightly agape and eyes as round as a couple of full moons.

He leaned in, finally resting his forehead onto yours, one of his hands sliding down to the nape of your neck. When your noses bumped he turned his head slightly, fitting your faces together like a puzzle. His breath brushed over your lips, puzzle pieces almost completely flush.

A jolt went through you like electricity by a single thought. "Wait-" You pushed him back slightly at the chest.

His eyes shot open, gazing at you in anticipation.

You didn't continue, only stared at him a moment, trying to get a handle on the speeding thoughts swirling your mind. Your pause was just long enough to watch sorrow cover his features.

"I read it wrong, didn't I?" The hand on your neck slid down to your shoulder in dismay, the weight of it heavy.

"No… No! God no, I just…. There's…." You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think. "You don't… Have to do that… if you dont really want to."

He tilted his head. "Who says I don't want to?"

You shook your head, biting your lip nervously. "You don't have to be close and sweet like that just because you feel bad for me." The tingling returned, tears now visibly welling.

Steve leaned back further, far enough to be able to start analyzing you. His eyes darted around, trying to pick apart what you had just said. "Because I feel ba-?… You think I want this just to make it up to you somehow?" He challenged, his thumb stroking your cheek in an attempt to possibly keep you calm.

Alas, a tear still escaped and dripped down your face. "Yeah you don't have to get with me like that just because you feel bad for a few fights, okay? I'm not upset that you-"

"That's not why," He deadpanned.

"Huh?"

"That's not why I want to kiss you."

The tears froze, as did the internalized denial of the situation at the utterance of those words.

I want to kiss you.

"I mean, it's part of it," He admitted, "The whole pain thing I mean. But I don't want this because I pity you or anything or because I feel bad for getting beat up. I mean sure, I never want you to feel that again, but… You have to know those aren't the only reasons, right?"

All you could do was stare back down at your lap, fighting the additional tears threatening to spill and flood the whole parking lot.

"Shit, you really don't…" He muttered, letting the hand on your cheek slide upwards into the roots of your hair. "You're so much more than just that empathy to me. Really, you are, you hear me?"

You sniffled, once again squeezing your eyes shut causing a round of tears to fall down at rapid fire. Steve caught all of them with a gentle brush.

"Seriously, you're one of the funniest people I've ever met. You have the prettiest eyelashes, the most adorable laugh, and you're hell of a lot smarter than I am," He lightly joked, reaching down to grab your hand once more. "You've helped me be better, forgave me when I didn't deserve it, and let me rant to you about whatever shit would piss me off. And you care so much about Henderson and his nerd friends. My life would be so sucky without you... even if I do have to feel your god awful period cramps." He snickered. "I want you in it more for as long as possible. I want you closer."

Despite the joke, your body shuddered in a frame wracking sob. The emotions were now pouring out from you in violent waves. The tears weren't just from Steve, it was buildup from the whole damned night. A dam of hurt, fear, sorrow, anxiety, disappointment, horror, regret, sadness, and pain had been building up over the course of hours and hours. Suddenly, this was the pressure that made everything come flooding out… and you couldn't stop it.

"Oh, babe," Steve cooed, his soft hand hooking your neck and pulling your face into his chest. The pet name sparked something inside you, but it was quickly engulfed by the absolute tornado of intensity ripping you apart from the inside.

Steve couldn't feel your emotions, true, but he could feel how hard you bit your lip trying to stifle any noise that tried to escape. He could feel your body shudder in his clutch. He could feel the wet tears you rubbed into his shirt. And he could feel his heart breaking, not because he was hurt by you— hurt that you thought he would do such a thing to you out of guilt. No, it was because you had genuinely thought he couldn't love you like that. He could see the denial in your face, the false belief you must have come to adopt over time.

Steve waited patiently for you to calm, rubbing your back and resting his cheek on the top of your head. Your lungs began aching with each breath, your throat was going dry and burning. Eventually your choppy inhales slowed and your whimpers began to cease. Deep breaths became easier to take in and the blur in your vision cleared. When you came back to the moment at hand, you realized you had brought your legs up off the ground and to your chest, leaning against the warm body beside you. In a ball, Steve had wrapped around you like a shell, rocking you ever so slightly.

Your body shook again, this time in a small laugh. "I should be the one comforting you, you know. You're the one with broken ribs and stitches in your face."

You felt him chuckle against you, the sound rumbling your ear against his chest. He smiled, relieved to hear you joke around again. Tilting his head, he looked down at you trying to see your eyes. They were finally open again.

When you caught his gaze, you stared back up at him in attention, eyes red and nose runny. While you were sure you looked like hell, all he could see was the damp sheen of tears and sweat highlighting his favorite parts of your face.

"Can I please kiss you now?"

You let out a breath as you sat up, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "I'm all gross, though."

He grabbed the back of your neck again and gently yanked your face to his. "Shut up and just let me kiss it better."

You rolled your eyes. "You're such a dork-"

His lips greeted yours, warm and soothing, the obvious pain of his busted lip cast aside just to feel each other's being. Your chest exploded once again with overwhelming feeling, but this time it was manageable. It was more than manageable, in fact, it was welcome. It was no longer a spark sucked into a gloomy tornado, but a ray of light, casting a sensation of healing rays from your chest outwards. Both of your movements melded together like clay, as did your breaths, creating a back and forth that you had been longing for. It was as if you were charging each other with hope after a night full of negatives and hopelessness. It was like being at home again after being gone for so long.

He was the first to pull away, his hands holding your head with a slight tremble in them. It made your heart swell. He was just as worked up as you.

"Ouch." He said under his breath.

A woozy smile burst over your face, rays of light reaching the surface. You brought your hand up to lightly brush your thumb over his bottom lip. "I think this should heal more before we try that again."

He shook his head, eyes drooped with lovesick admiration. "Let it hurt," He mumbled before leaning in once more, pressing his mouth to yours.

You accepted it with a grateful hum.

A/N: Thanks again for reading! Seriously loved the new people flowing into this blog and the comments you all leave. It means a lot. My confidence is boosted <3 Requests are open!

Tags: @solarbxby @mxcheese @junglecoxk @iheartmyguitars @freezaz123 @love-kurdt @johnricharddeacy @fangeekkk @kategables @thehybridprincesshatedchild @eternallyvenus @wenddsmuks-blog @spideyharrington @basketcaseeeeee @carinacassiopeiae @impossibelle @artsyjazzs @xjessmorley @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @alana4610 @reidsgubbler @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @mynameismothra @munsonzzgf @biscuitbeater15 (if tags are in red, then it would not let me tag you, I'm sorry 😔)

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #season 3 steve #soulmates au #soulmates to lovers #steve harrington angst #steve x reader #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things reader insert

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teamatsumu · 9 months

Text

good enough.

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x reader

Word count: 2,578

✎ Soulmate AU, Angst, Hurt comfort

You had always been a meek child. And it shocked everyone you would meet.

It had a lot to do with the fact that your parents were both extremely outgoing. They were loud, adventurous types who loved trying new things. It wasn't difficult to see how they were soulmates. They were practically cut from the same cloth. But you, you often made people lose the plot. You didn't act like your parents' daughter at all.

You had always been very shy. It had taken you forever to make friends in daycare, and even longer once you entered kindergarten. Kids were too loud and too messy. So you preferred to keep to yourself. The few friends you had were because someone else would take you 'under their wing' somehow.

You got better as you grew up, though you could still technically be considered an introvert. You hated that word. Hated how limiting it was and how it put you into a box. You weren't an introvert. You had friends that you loved hanging out with and spending time with. You didn't prefer being alone. You loved companionship.

You just didn't think you were interesting enough to deserve it.

So you stayed in your little circle of dedicated friends, girls you had met as a little kid and stuck by all through elementary and middle school. But towards the end of middle school, something happened that changed your life forever.

You met your soulmate.

Well, 'met' was a strong word. You saw him, from afar. You laid eyes on him, felt that electricity shoot up inside you, the mantra of 'soulmate, soulmate, soulmate' repeating in your head. It was the same pattern of feelings you were told your whole life that you would feel. Down to every last detail. Yet your brain couldn't accept it. You couldn't believe the obvious signals your body was sending you. It just couldn't be.

Your soulmate was…… Oikawa Tooru?

The Oikawa Tooru. Kitagawa Daiichi's star setter. The best player their school had seen so far. You had seen him while he was receiving the award for best setter. When your eyes had settled on him for more than 5 seconds, signaling to your body that you were looking directly at your soulmate. You were frozen in your spot, obscured in the crowd of students seated for the ceremony. Watching as Oikawa accepted his medal and his shield. The center of attention, the smile on his face bright and warm.

You in the bleachers, clapping mechanically, no different from anyone around you. Blending into your surroundings like you had your entire life.

It took you many, many weeks to get used to the idea that Oikawa Tooru was your soulmate. Your other half. It just didn't sit well with you. You had seen soulmate couples your entire life, including your parents. People with similar tastes, more or less matching personalities, so in love and so in sync.

You and Oikawa were worlds apart.

He had a gentle charm to him, easy going smile and bright, bright brown eyes, hair so casually wind swept, the color of warm chestnut. He was tall, lean, enough to command a room the second he entered it. It almost seemed like he had a spotlight on him at all times. As you watched him from afar, cracking jokes and laughing loud, annoying his friends and greeting his fans, you realized just how different you two were.

You were, in every sense of the word, average. You weren't confident, but you could speak your mind when you wanted. You weren't ugly, but you weren't exactly a head turner. You were so….. mediocre. Especially compared to someone as rare and wonderful as Oikawa Tooru. There's no way you could match up to him.

You didn't deserve him. And more importantly, he deserved so much better than you.

You never dared mention to anyone that you knew who your soulmate was. Your friends would hound you forever and your parents would be flabbergasted that you didn't tell him yet. You didn't have it in yourself to explain to them why you didn't. It made sense in your head, but you had enough awareness to know that other people would say it's utter bullshit. You didn't want to deal with that. Someday, Oikawa would give up on finding his soulmate and settle down with someone else. Someone who could fit into his shiny, busy world. All you had to do till then was stay out of the way. This was for Oikawa's own good.

You knew fate was testing you when you unintentionally ended up at the same high school as Oikawa. You had nearly done a double take when you saw him in the halls, talking to that spiky haired boy he was friends with, basking in the admiring looks of multiple girls that walked past him and waved at him. It made you sigh. It's like every time you saw him, you were reminded how much better he was than you. And all it did was strengthen your resolve to stay miles away from him.

You managed to successfully avoid Oikawa for many months, which wasn't hard considering your straightforward routine. You didn't like leaving class for no reason. You had lunch at your desk. You weren't part of any clubs so you would go straight home afterwards. Also owing to the fact that Oikawa appeared to be the busiest person in the world, it made your life much easier.

You should've known it wouldn't last long. It seemed the entire universe was conspiring to get you closer to Oikawa. And the universe had sent Matsukawa Issei to do the job.

Matsukawa was in the same class as you. He sat next to you in the back row and dosed off during most of the lessons. You thought he was incredibly amusing. Especially when he would sneak food into his mouth during classes and try to chew it without the teacher noticing that his mouth was moving. When you would try to hide your grin, he would wink at you and offer you food too, and both of you would munch on it while you waited for lessons to be over. He was very laid back and easy going, yet had a lot of confidence. In an ideal world where you weren't so anxious, you liked to think you would be a lot like him.

You never would've dreamed that someone so naturally lazy would actually be part of a sports club. Especially not volleyball. The thought never crossed your mind. Had you known, you wouldn't have touched him with a ten foot pole. But you made it a point to stay as far away from Oikawa and volleyball as possible, so you didn't know. Big mistake.

The midday sun was beating on your head as you stood waiting at the school gate. You tried leaning against the wall but the brick was burning up, making you yelp and jump away. You scowled at your phone, staring at Matsukawa's name before hitting Call. He picked up after only two beeps.

"Y/N-?"

"Where the hell are you, Issei? I'm getting cooked in this heat!" You whined, feeling your scowl deepen. You watched students bustle out of the gate, eager to get home and away from the sun. There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Matsukawa spoke again.

"Oh shit."

You groaned out loud at the words, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Issei, I need those notes! We have a quiz tomorrow and you promised me you would give them back after school."

You could hear Matsukawa panting on the other end, making your eyebrows furrow. Was he running?

"Listen, Y/N. I left my bag at the gym. The team is out on a run right now and I think we will be back in maybe ten minutes? Why don't you go wait at the gym and I'll give it to you when I come-"

"Wait," you cut him off. "What gym? What are you talking about?"

More huffing. "Oh yeah, you don't know. I'm in the volleyball club. Go wait for me at the gym."

You stilled, blinking once, before the implication of his words sank in and panic gripped your chest. "No, no, wait! I can't go there. I'll wait for you at the gate and you can just come give it to me-"

"Coach won't let me leave the gym during practice time. What's the big deal? It'll take two minutes-"

"No Issei!" You cut him off, feeling cornered. "Keep the notebook. I'll get it from you tomorrow."

"But what about the qui-"

You hung up.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute, thoughts racing. That was so close. So close. You had unintentionally become friends with Oikawa's teammate. And you had no clue. Panic gripped you as you realized what this meant. At any given time, Oikawa could've seen you. He could've walked into your classroom to talk to Issei about something and laid eyes on you. Then he would've known.

The walk home was shaky and disorienting. You felt frustrated with yourself at this game you were playing. Trying to stay away from the boy this universe was begging you to be with. Someone your heart also desperately wanted, but your insecure, anxious brain was constantly yelling at you to stay away from.

He's too good. His future is too bright. You'll ruin him.

You were so tired.

The quiz ended up being pretty easy, considering the fact that you didn't study for it at all and spent most of your evening crying, then watching some shitty comedy on Netflix that didn't make you laugh at all, going through your snack drawer like an madwoman and finally falling asleep, where brown eyes plagued you in your dreams for the rest of the night. You thanked the gods that you had nothing good to do in your life and hence spent most of your time studying. It meant you did pretty well on your test despite doing nothing to prepare for it.

If there was one thing about you that was way above average, it was your brain.

Issei was looking at you weirdly throughout the day, and he finally spoke up at lunch, something you had been dreading.

"You wanna tell me what the hell that was yesterday?" He crossed his arms, staring at you so hard you were afraid he could take a peek into your soul.

"What the hell was what." You deadpanned, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't be daft. You nearly had a panic attack when I told you to come meet me at the volleyball gym."

You cringed at the word 'volleyball', sighing deeply. "I just didn't want to make the extra trip, it was really hot outside-"

You stopped talking when Matsukawa abruptly sat up, eyes narrowed at you. "You're bullshitting me. Tell me the truth."

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "I am telling you the-"

"I'll drag the entire volleyball team here if I have to." He drawled, a challenge in his voice. "You freaked me out yesterday. And it has something to do with my club. So tell me, or I'll find out somehow."

You felt your heart race. Dammit. You couldn't think of anything else. You couldn't think of a lie to placate him. And as you stared into his dark eyes, you knew you had lost.

Matsukawa Issei became the first person to know who your soulmate was.

He had dragged you out of the class after lunch break. There had been too much to unpack in that short amount of time. You hid behind the school overlooking the grounds, telling Matsukawa everything, like word vomit that you couldn't stop. You realized as you talked just how desperate you were to tell someone about all this. You had kept it in for so long that just saying it all out loud seemed to lighten your load.

A thick blanket of silence fell on you two when you finished, nearly out of breath. You watched Matsukawa intently as he stared out at the grounds, one leg pulled up to his torso and resting his arm on his knee. He sighed heavily, running a hand across his face.

"For someone who gets the best grades in our class, you have got to be the dumbest person I have ever met."

You blinked at his words, shocked. "Huh?"

He scowled deeply at you, shocking you even more. He looked almost angry.

"You think you know better than the universe? You think you're smarter than fate?" He raised his voice, looking pissed. "How can you think the gods were wrong when they paired you with Oikawa? And to make this huge decision, without even considering how Oikawa might feel-"

"How dare you." Your voice trembled, feeling tears prick at your lash line. "All I did was consider how Oikawa might feel. I put my own feelings aside-"

"What the hell makes you think this is what Oikawa wants?" Matsukawa raised his voice even more, nearly swelling up in frustration. "You don't know him. You don't know if he wants you. You can't make this decision for him!"

You reeled at his words, blinking your tears away furiously. What the hell was Issei implying? That Oikawa could actually make any alternative choice? It couldn't be. Why would he want you?

Issei's face was softening, watching the emotions flit over your face.

"Y/N," he continued. "You're my friend. I'd like to think I know you. And from what I've seen, I guarantee you that there is not one thing about you that Oikawa won't like."

"But I-" You drew in a trembling breath. "We're so different."

Issei snorted and shrugged. "Trust me, he needs that. Or his head would get too big for his own body to carry."

You two stayed silent for a bit, letting Issei's words wash over you like a cold shower after a hot day. Your heart was screaming at you to believe him, but your mind wouldn't let up. You heard him sigh and stand up, stretching his arms above his head. How long had you been out here anyway? It felt like hours. Was school over? What time was it?

"Alright, let's go." You snapped out of your thoughts at his words, blinking owlishly up at him.

"Go where?"

He didn't answer, waving your question off like he was swatting a fly before he grabbed your arm and pulled you up to your feet, not giving you a moment to breathe as he led you away.

"Issei-"

"Shut up. I've heard enough outta you." He didn't look back at you. You felt a sting of indignation, falling into silence and letting him drag you. You felt so burnt out.

You only tuned back into the present when you heard the squeaks and thuds on hardwood floors, tensing up when Issei climbed the three small stairs leading to the open volleyball gym doors. He tugged your arm when he realized you had stopped, turning to look at you. He gave you a soft look, almost pleading.

"He deserves this. Please."

You felt your shoulders slump in acceptance, mind stilling and slowing in its tirade of thoughts. With one last deep breath, you stepped inside.

Let me know what you think!

#haikyuu #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #Oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #oikawa tooru angst #oikawa soulmate au #soulmate au #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tōru #oikawa headcanons #oikawa fluff #Oikawa one shot

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dylan-hart · 1 year

Text

⸻ these words that bring me to you

summary: You were dreading the day you would meet your soulmates, their words forever printed harshly down your forearm. Meanwhile, Enid and Wednesday can only think about finding their third, even if the two matching words on their wrists were odd. Besides, what could possibly happen that makes their soulmate’s first words to them be “Well, fuck”?

pairing: Enid Sinclair x Fem!Reader x Wednesday Addams, poly

warning(s): cursing, mentions of child neglect, Thornhill being creepy af (nothing drastic), bullying

word count: 2.4k

You were never normal. That’s a fact that you knew well. Ever since your odd birth and the years leading up to your sixteenth birthday, you were deemed abnormal. Weird, even. You were the quiet kid that sat in the back of the classroom, headphones blasting music to drown out the teacher’s rambling, and extremely antisocial — many went as far to believe that you were allergic to people.

But you were okay with that fact.

Until the day a boy decided that you were the perfect target to jump and scare in the hallway. You barely remembered what happened that day, only that your vision tunneled when hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, his voice yelling loudly in your ears, and the sound of his friends laughing loudly in the distance had grated your nerves, until you felt something surge from your chest, into your veins and push out from your fingertips.

The boy went flying across the hallway, cracking his head on the floor.

Your life was never the same again.

The ability to move objects — or people — without even touching them, with only the thought of pure instinct or want, had flipped your life upside down. Expelled from your old school, rumors of being a witch that sent you spiraling, and the reveal of your newfound ability left your parents scared of you. Your father became angry, angrier than normal, and his yelling became more constant, screaming matches leaving both of your throats raw as your mother watched on blankly, not once saying a single word.

They were scared of you, scared of what you could do.

That’s why you found yourself being shipped off across the states to a new school, one that could hopefully fix you or keep you contained. A school of fellow freaks and outcasts much like yourself.

Nevermore.

You settled in quickly, quietly, not bothering to talk to your roommate — what was her name? Yoko? you mused — and kept up the same appearance as your last school: curled in on yourself, picking the chair furthest in the back, and keeping your headphones over your ears at all times, zoning in and out — you thanked the way you could easily pick up subjects, able to keep your grades high enough the school wouldn’t even think of contacting your parents. You didn’t make any friends — you didn’t want them, didn’t need them — and you didn’t speak during class, choosing to doodle away absently in your notebook.

And, when night came and your roommate was snoring away in her bed, you would trace the lines down your forearm, hoping that you never met your soulmates, hoping you would never see them or come into contact with them.

“Shit, that took forever to organize!”

“Scram before I fillet the skin off your bones and feed it to the piranhas.”

You sighed at the thought and rubbed at your eyes, fingers gripping your forearm. You had evidently messed up with one of your soulmates with their words were anything to go by while the other one was openly threatening you.

So, you wished you would never meet them, never have the chance to ruin such a beautiful bond with your freakishness.

Unfortunately, the world was never kind to you and you ended up meeting them at the end of the week.

“Miss (L/n), can you please stay after class?”

You paused and clenched your jaw, ducking your head down, the grip on your notebook tightening drastically. You watched from the corner of your eye as everyone filed out quickly, the last being a blonde talking loudly and animatedly to a girl with dark hair and her face blank, though her eyes were fond as she stared at her companion.

You sighed and watched the door close before you glanced up, shouldering your backpack, letting your headphones dangle around your neck. You fidgeted as Miss Thornhill smiled at you, something strange racing down your spine at the sight.

“You wished to speak with me?” you prompted when she continued to only smile at you.

“Ah, yes,” Miss Thornhill said, shaking out of her stupor. “I wanted to ask how you’re settling into Nevermore. Have the students been treating you good?”

You shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, they’re fine,” you answered.

“I see that you don’t really talk to anyone, though.” Miss Thornhill frowned, concern too obvious to be real on her face. “I know that things were rough in your last school.” You felt something like ice rush through your veins at the thought. “If you ever want to talk, about anything — your old school, your life, your parents…your powers…”

You shivered at the way she said the last part, something manic in her eyes behind that calm facade, something dangerous.

“I’m okay,” you forced out, throat closing up. “But I’ll make sure to take you up on your offer if it ever becomes too much.”

Miss Thornhill smiled and set a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it. You forced yourself to stay completely still, bile lurching up the back of your throat and stomach churning. “Take care of yourself, Miss (L/n). I’m here if you need to talk.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Miss Thornhill,” you managed to choke out. She finally let go of your shoulder.

You turned and headed for the door, keeping your pace even enough that she didn’t think you were running away. You finally stepped out of her classroom and waited until the door closed before you leaned heavily against the wall, forcing down your power as it thrashed restlessly in your veins, panic rearing up that had you taking deep breaths to calm it.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You glanced up and saw a boy with long hair staring at you in concern. “I’m fine,” you brushed off harshly and pushed yourself from the wall, marching away.

“Well, okay then,” you heard him mutter but you ignored it.

You practically stormed towards your dorm room, classes be damned, but, when you turned around the corner, you smacked into something hard. You grunted and fell, hearing a crash in front of you. You blinked your eyes open when you realized they were closed and glanced up, finding the pair from before standing there, a binder and folder on the floor, pages a mess on the ground.

“Shit, that took forever to organize!” the blonde groaned out, glancing towards you.

You froze, your breath rolling from your lungs. No way. There’s no way this is happening to you—

The dark haired girl glowered at you, cold fury in her eyes. “Scram before I fillet the skin off your bones and feed it to the piranhas.”

You choked on air, fingers trembling as you stared up at them, eyes wide and panic resurfacing.

“Hey, are you okay?” the blonde asked tentatively after a moment, brows furrowing the longer you simply stared up at them.

The dark haired girl scoffed under her breath, crossing her arms, and scowled down at you, looking moments away from committing murder.

You blinked. And then blinked again. You chuckled humorlessly. “Well, fuck.”

It happened in an instant.

They both froze. The blonde’s eyes went wide in disbelief, jaw dropping, papers forgotten. The dark haired girl zeroed in on you intensely, straightening up in her spot. They stared at you in a new light, shock coloring their faces — though the dark haired girl less so than the blonde.

You glanced between them and decided then and there to leave the situation completely. You shoved yourself up from the ground quickly and twisted on your heel, rushing away from them, from your soulmates despite their warnings for you to come back.

You never did look back.

——

Your schedule changed after that. You would make sure to arrive to class a second before the bell to avoid your soulmates but you were also always the first to leave, escaping them even as they tried to catch you. Yoko — your roommate, you were right about her name — would stare at you weirdly every time you came back to your dorm before she brought up the subject because apparently, your luck would have it that she was one of your soulmate’s best friends because of course she was.

You learned their names: Enid Sinclair, the school’s social butterfly and social media sweetheart and Wednesday Addams, Nevermore’s morbid outcast and possible serial killer.

You were annoyed as you found yourself listening to Yoko tell stories about Enid and Wednesday, found yourself hating it that you craved to know more about them, to know their quirks and what they liked and disliked, what they were like.

You hated it but you couldn’t stop when Yoko offered to talk to you about them.

“They’re looking for you, you know,” Yoko mentioned one night.

You grimaced and glanced away from her.

“You want to know about them?” Yoko continued. “Out of everything I told you about them, the first and main thing you should know is that they never give up, that they always find a way to get what they want. Every. Single. Time.”

You found yourself wishing you had taken Yoko’s warning to heart when, one night when your roommate had decided to sleep in her soulmate, Bianca’s, dorm, you heard harsh knocking coming from your door. You grunted and scowled at the door before pushing yourself up from your bed and shuffling towards it, yanking the door open with a glower.

And there they stood, side by side — one smiling shyly and the other staring back at you stonily.

You tensed up at the sight, frozen in place.

“Can we come in?” Enid asked hesitantly.

You swallowed hard before finding yourself nodding, stepping aside. They both walked in and you shut the door behind them, fidgeting with your fingers and refusing to look at either of them.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Wednesday deadpanned.

You winced.

“Wednesday,” Enid hissed under her breath at her soulmate.

But Wednesday ignored her.

“Why?”

You stared down at your feet, not saying a word.

“Is…” Enid started quietly. “Is it because you don’t want us?” Her voice wobbled dangerously.

Your eyes widened and you snapped your head up to look at them. “What? No!” you denied, shaking your head.

“Then why can you never look at us?” Enid whimpered.

You flinched back and your fingers grabbed where their sentences are printed on your skin, holding on tight enough it hurts. “I just…I’m not—” You groaned loudly, trying to find the words. “I’m not normal.”

Wednesday huffed out a breath. “I have psychic visions occasionally when I come into contact with someone or something. Enid can grow claws and transforms into a werewolf every full moon. None of us are normal, (L/n).”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you snapped. “I’m- I’m different. I’m a freak. A witch. I fuck up everything I touch. Why would I destroy something as precious as a soul bond with my presence?”

Wednesday frowned, brows twitching in what looked like a mixture of concern and rage.

Enid took a step towards you. “You’re not a freak. Who told you that?”

“Who hasn’t told me that?” you countered with a scoff, crossing your arms as if to protect yourself.

“You’re not a freak,” Enid said firmly, a fire in her eyes. “And you won’t fuck up our soul bond. She” — Enid jerked a thumb towards Wednesday, who cocked an eyebrow up at being addressed — “tried to push me away the first time she realized we were soulmates.” Enid grabbed the shorter’s hand despite her scoff. “But everything turned out okay in the end.”

“Trust me, (L/n), if there was a way to harm the soul bond, I would’ve already achieved it,” Wednesday drawled.

You stood still and processed what they were saying. A part of you screamed and yelled not to trust what they were saying, shouting that you didn’t deserve such a precious thing as soulmates, that you would mess it all up and end up alone again. But, there was also a part of you that yearned…that wanted so badly for this to happen; a part that wanted to just say fuck it and accept the bond as it is, to finally open up to someone.

“I…” You took a deep breath and stared at them, at your soulmates, who both stared right back, a certain vulnerability in their eyes. “Okay…okay, we can try this soulmate thing.”

Enid squealed and darted forward before pausing, arms outstretched. “Wait, am I allowed to give you a hug?”

You made the mistake of glancing into her doe eyes and found yourself nodding. She grinned and practically barreled into you, strong arms wrapping you up tightly, pulling you close to her. You tensed up at the feeling before slowly relaxing into the hug, tentatively wrapping your arms back around her. It felt like you had hugged for eternity before a dry voice spoke up.

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Wednesday said. “It makes me want to vomit.”

Enid laughed loudly and pulled away, nudging you. “That means that she loves us.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. You glanced over at Wednesday and hesitantly let your fingers brush against hers. She glanced down at your hand before wrapping her pinkie around yours. You smiled a small smile at her and watched her lips twitch slightly in response.

“Aw,” Enid cooed. “And you talk about us being adorable.” She leapt forward and grabbed your other hand, ignoring Wednesday giving her a warning glance for calling her adorable.

You three basked in the comfortable silence, warm pulsing between your connected hands and you let your eyes slip shut at the feeling, the bond pulsing happily between the three of you.

“I want names.”

“What?” you asked, blinking your eyes back open and turning towards Wednesday, who stared at you.

“I want the names of who made you think about yourself the way that you do,” Wednesday clarified.

“Why?”

“So they can be disposed of,” Wednesday answered unblinkingly.

You blanched. “It was mainly my parents.”

“That can be arranged.”

Enid’s eyes flashed. “Wednesday, what have we talked about murder?”

“That it’s allowed if one of our soulmates are suffering because of it,” Wednesday replied.

“What? No, we didn’t — Wednesday, put down the knife we are not going to go kill (Y/n)’s parents—”

You cracked a smile at their bickering.

Yeah, maybe the soul bond wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

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klausysworld · 11 months

Note

Are request still open and if they are can you make a Klaus Mikaelson one shot the girl is Tyler Lockwood sister and she hates Klaus so she rejects him as her mate but at the end she accepts him so like fluff at the end

What are you doing to me?

Finding out your mated to the all powerful original hybrid who ruined your brothers like and forced him to become half vampire while also terrorising your childhood friends and what not isn’t exactly at the top of my bucket list.

Him being a willing participant when it came to the whole ‘soulmate’ arrangement was also not meant to be in the cards.

When I realised we were mates I was 99% sure he would immediately reject me as a mate. As strong as a soulmate makes you, it will also always be your greatest weakness. I would be able to kill him far easier than anyone else and I was certain he would want to kill me first.

So him leaving me expensive gifts was…unexpected to say the least.

Detailed drawings of wolves and the full moon in the sky with a poem hand written on the back had my heart fluttering in ways that I should not have enjoyed.

But he had destroyed my brothers and the people I consider my family’s lives.

And so, despite the utter agony I was inflicting on both him and myself, I rejected him as my mate.

It’s a rare thing for wolves to reject their one, the side affects are awful in a way to force your mind into reconsidering.

The crippling pain was emotionally tormenting and physically exhausting. After the initial rejection I was barely able to leave my bed, eat, drink, I barely spoke a word and each time I fell asleep I was haunted by a similar image of Klaus.

Damon had messaged me letting me know Klaus had been out of sight for nearly 3 weeks after.

The pain lingered, never truly gone but it had dimmed. Though a sharp pain would shoot through me when he was too close, when the bond knew I was purposely ignoring him, and i could always see him wince at the same time.

The few times I didn’t shove him away, well I felt much better. He brought peace to my wolfs inner battle between soulmate and family because in reality I knew that he was both. I was just too afraid to admit it fully.

Though I couldn’t help but occasionally step a tad bit closer to him, to feel the warm buzz that ran through my bloodstream.

He was a lot less subtle though.

Often, as soon as his wolf sensed mine approaching he was all over me. Hands would be rubbing up and down my arms, his lips on my neck in a desperate instinctual need to mark me. And what was worse was that my wolf was all the more compliant and for a few wonderful seconds I could indulge in the blissful sensations. My head back, hands firmly gripping his henley and moans leaving my lips, my wolf having the desire to present myself in a truly embarrassing fashion.

Though he would always push it a tad too far, a grope to my ass, his canines about to pierce my skin, and I would be pushing him away. My wolf panting as I nearly tripped over my own two feet to get away from him while ignoring the intense feeling of my heart being squeezed unpleasantly.

I always managed to just scrape past him.

Suffering alone in my room again at the recurring torture of rejecting a mate.

His continued flow of presents didn’t help either, only made me feel worse seeing effort put into paintings of me and my wolf. He hadn’t turned into a hybrid, not yet at least, he probably knew that would be my last straw and id maim him.

But I knew he had followed my wolf on the full moons, I always woke with brand new clothes beside me, lead on a cotton blanket with a pillow under head and the snapping of twigs in the distance as he walked away.

And even though I should have said absolutely not when he personally delivered an invitation to his family’s ball, with those stupid puppy dog eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to.

“Please love, just one dance and if you don’t like it…then I’ll leave you be and accept your decision” as soon as the words left his mouth, both our souls twisted in agony making my teeth grind.

“Fine, just one” I whispered and he nodded, pulling me into a quick hug to calm down both our pain. Which it did like water on a fire, entirely putting out the flames and leaving us calm and quiet.

And then the dress arrived at my door, with matching shoes and accessories and I realised I actually had to do this.

Walking into his house sent a chill down my spine, my body felt much warmer and my wolf was howling inside me.

A hand on my shoulder had me whimpering softly making an arm wrap around my waist and pull me aside to another room.

“Shh love, we don’t want the rest of the guests hearing such lovely sounds” klaus murmured into my ear and I pressed against him, a small moan leaving my lips.

“This is too much for you isn’t it my love?” He whispered, his hand tilting my head making me look up at him.

The entire house smelt like him, I had seen parts of it in the dreams of him when he was suffering from my rejection. Which now intensified my guilt, my emotions were running haywire. I was in his home; I was in the wolf’s den.

Without thinking my hands tugged at his blazer, pushing it down his arms before my fingers began to pull his shirt open

“Woah love, it’s alright” he muttered, his hands grabbed mine and before I could blink we were outside. The cold air cooled down my boiling skin as I panted and he stroked my hair away from my face

“There we go, it’s okay” he cooed, the back of his hand pressing against my forehead.

“I hate this stupid bond” I whispered, covering my face.

“I know love…we can have our dance another time, I’ll take you home” he uttered, his tone was sad and my heart ached again.

“Stop it” I whispered “please stop it”

“Stop what love? What’s wrong?”

“Make it stop fucking hurting! I rejected you weeks, months ago! Why does it still hurt!? What are you doing to me?” I whispered, tears filling my eyes and spilling over. I looked up at him to see him in a similar state though no tears had fallen from his eyes yet.

His hand moved to cup my face and I couldn’t help but lean into it.

“It will only stop hurting us when you truly reject me. Somewhere, inside you, you still haven’t truly given up on the idea. You either have to reject the bond once and for all or accept me” he explained softly

“I would’ve been able to reject you if you left me alone. You kept sending all those things and being so kind, you did this to me” I whimpered

“I wouldn’t have done that if I couldn’t feel your soul still reaching for mine” he uttered “I would never intentionally harm you”

I let out a quiet sob as my soul pleaded for his.

I leaned forward so my head could press against his chest, my eyes closing at the content feeling that rose in me. I could feel myself giving into the bond, our souls slowly binding together. His hand held the back of my head, I could hear his heart speeding up as mine mimicked it.

His other hand moved around my waist, pulling me to him. “Good girl” he whispered “you’ll feel so much better now” he reassured “I promise I’ll make it better now sweetheart”

He kissed my head softly, his hand rubbing my back “let the bond form my love” he encouraged.

I focused on the connection trying to relight the candle.

I could feel the second it happened, my knees growing too weak to stand making him chuckle quietly and wrap both arms around me. He lifted me so my face could be right infront of his, prompting me to lean forward and press our lips together.

Our souls entwined as we did so, endless amounts of passion poured into one act.

The silent appreciation that this was real and it was only just the beginning.

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agir1ukn0w · 8 months

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the coat comes OFF if you badmouth Nami😡

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

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Champion of the World **^

Part 2 of Music Producer! Harry blurb as requested in the notes by @totodiamond :) I just did a proper one shot for it.

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), fingering, sex, mentions of death and loss, cheating.

WC: 9k

LAST WARNING... If you haven't read the BLURB first you can do so here.

The reception of Y/N’s band’s new album was expected to be pretty promising. Granted, their music wasn’t “mainstream”, but Harry had insisted that they have 2 singles on the album to get them more on the radar and well, it had worked. Their second single had a more indie-pop feel and swept the nation thanks to a TikTok posted by their label. Because of it’s popularity it really helped hype up the anticipation for their album release and it was projected to do really well. They were also projecting that the second single would be the “song of the summer”. And well, they would start to tour in August so they would be busy from August until next May.

The topic of tour seemed to be the most frequently asked question as she navigated through the room at the album’s launch party. This was their first headlining tour, they had opened on a few tours for several shows with their EP and first album, but this was the big one. Their self-titled album. Because this is how they made a name for themselves. It was a lot to take in and the more people asked the more overwhelmed Y/N felt. There were people everywhere and she was slowly starting to get anxious and she just needed a little break so she headed outside to catch some fresh air. When she got out there someone was smoking off to the side and the scent just called to her. She hadn’t smoked in years, but she was feeling nostalgic, so she went up to him and bummed a cigarette off of him before the man headed inside. She had just taken her first drag and it felt so familiar that she smiled to herself.

“Seriously?” She heard and immediately recognized the voice and turned to her right to see Harry walking over to her with a disbelieving smirk on his face. She was partially hidden behind a giant palm planter for this very reason, she didn’t want a scolding from anyone about her smoking. She knew cigarettes were gross and bad for you, but she was feeling nostalgic when the scent reached her nose and she gave in just this once.

“I know, I know…but I haven’t smoked in maybe 4 years, it’s just this once. Don’t narc me out to Richard.” She said to Harry of their manager as he stopped before her, still smirking.

“Gimme that.” He said extending his hand to her and she frowned.

“Fine. Just one more though.” She said to him and he laughed softly.

“Relax, I’m not gonna put it out. Nor will I narc you out.” He said to her lowly and she smiled at him as she passed it on over, “D’you mind?” He asked as he raised it to his mouth and she shook her head.

“Go for it.” She assured and he proceeded to put the filter between his lips and inhaled for a few seconds before letting the smoke flow out from between his slightly parted lips as he exhaled.

“Wow, I haven’t smoked in ages either.” He said to her with a smile, “It’s as awful and comforting as I remember.” He added and she chuckled.

“Yeah…” she agreed.

“I promised myself I’d never do that again…thanks.” He joked and she shrugged.

“I’m sorry for tempting you. I’ve heard that I tend to bring out the worst in people…” she apologized with a half smile on her face.

“No you don’t.” He shook his head, “You bring out the wild side in people, but it’s only because you’re so effortlessly cool and yourself. Like people want to impress you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” He said and she smiled.

“Is that what this was? You trying to impress me?” She teased him.

“No, I have some dignity.” He countered with a grin and she laughed loudly as he chuckled, “Nah, I saw you walk out in a bit of a rush and just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He explained, “So are you alright?”

“Yeah, it just got a little overstimulating in there. Too many lights and voices and questioned and smells…it was a lot.” She said and he hummed as he took another drag before handing the cigarette back and she immediately took a drag.

“Oh, the shitty parts of acquiring fame…”

“Yeah.” She giggled as the smoke billowed out of her mouth. He started at her lips for a few seconds as she glanced off somewhere else. Her lips were slightly swollen and looked so smooth and juicy from whatever product she had on them. He’d been dying to kiss her for months, but he didn’t want to start anything with her while they were actively involved in a professional relationship.

“Are you excited for the tour?” He asked after a few beats of silence. And she wasn’t annoyed when he asked about it, but maybe it’s because it was him.

“Yeah, we already start rehearsals next week! I think we need to re-work the setlist though…but we’ll see once we run the full show through.”

“Are you guys rehearsing here?”

“Yeah, we’ll stay in LA.” She confirmed, “What’s next for you?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a couple offers on the table for different gigs, just not sure what to choose.” He confessed and she hummed.

“Well which one has you most excited?” She asked and he bit his lip pensively.

“Ummm…I’ve been approached to compose for an indie film…” he said and she gasped in surprise.

“Oh? That’s so cool, Harry!”

“Yeah.” He smiled, “I haven’t really done any original compositions since…maybe grad school?” He said with a questioning expression, “So it’s not out of my skillset, but I’m definitely out of my depth and out of practice. I’m sure I’m rusty, but it’s something different than what I’ve been doing the last few years, you know? So it seems the most exciting and challenging.”

“Yeah. That’s really sick. What’s the storyline? If I can ask.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah, ummm, it’s one of those dystopian love stories…so like the world’s gonna end in a few weeks and we’re all gonna die and it’s about like making peace with yourself and living in the moment, finding the beauty in the tragedy…that kind of thing. I really liked the script, it’s so realistic and well written. I’ve even considered going for one of the lead roles.” He said to her and she smiled.

“Oh? Acting too?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled timidly.

“Well aren’t you multitalented!” She smiled as he smiled bashfully, “Well, it sounds really cool, definitely sounds like something I’d watch. If only to hear your compositions.” She said and he smiled.

“Hey, if I say yes maybe you can sing on a track.” He suggested and she smiled.

“Yeah, I’d be down.” She assured as she flicked the ash off of her cigarette before taking another drag and exhaling, “Do you want another?”

“Yeah, last one.” He said and she chuckled as she passed it over to him. Once he took his drag he held it out to her.

“I’m good. You can kill it or…kill it.” She said and he smiled as he stepped over to the little ashtray over the garbage bin and extinguished what was left of the cigarette before stepping back over to her.

“So, should I keep myself open for your next album or has the illusion of having me produce your albums died?” He asked with a grin and Y/N laughed aloud at his question before biting down on her lip to suppress a smile.

“Ummm, I’d say keep yourself open…I think I need to give you a fair shot.”

“Oh… OK.” He smiled contently, “Good. I’ve got some really great ideas for some of the songs we cut from this album that can help kind of establish your sound for the next one.” He said.

“Geez…already? Everything moves so fast here.”

“You’re definitely not in Kansas anymore…” he smiled at her and she rolled her eyes playfully, “Don’t roll your eyes, you know you want to laugh.” He said to her and she finally did but shook her head.

“I’m not even from Kansas! I just went to school there!”

“Yeah, but the rest of your band is, and it was formed there, so whether you like it or not, you’re now from Kansas - well according to Wikipedia you are - so the joke works.” He said smugly.

“You wikipedia-ed me?”

“Well, I wiki-ed the band before I agreed to work with you guys. You’ve seriously never googled anything about me?” He asked her incredulously.

“Eh, kind of…I mean, I googled narcissistic personality disorder, to see if you met the criteria for it…” she said and he laughed loudly and she smirked, “When I realized that I was reaching, I googled your birthday and discovered you’re an Aquarius, and well…that explained a lot. Like how you’re so great at your job but also a control freak and kind of a dick.” She teased and he shook his head.

“I see how it is…” he hummed in mock offense and she reached out for his arm, her hand rested against his bicep.

“I don’t think that of you anymore, just to clarify. It was before when I was still mad at you. I’m sorry. You’re perfectly normal according to the DSM-5.” She assured giving him a small, reassuring squeeze and he grinned.

“Yeah, thank you for stating the obvious.” He chuckled as her hand started to slip away from him and he grabbed it in his, which made her look up into his eyes. Her heart rate starting speeding up as her eyes met his own before he glanced down at her hand, “This is nice.” He said to her as his thumb grazed over the sunburst ring on her middle finger. She looked down as well and felt her tummy flutter at his innocent, but very intimate gesture.

“Thank you. My sister gave it to me.” She replied, her hand still in his. He hadn’t made a move to let go and she hadn’t made a move to pull her hand away from his either, so their eyes met again as their hands came down, still connected by their middle fingers being hooked together. The tension and electricity buzzing between them was extremely obvious.

“It’s gonna be weird not seeing you guys every day.” He said to her and she smiled.

“Yeah…everyone’ll miss you, if that’s any consolation.” She said with a small smile and he smiled down at the ground and asked his question before he could talk himself out of it.

“What about you? Are you gonna miss me too?” He inquired before looking back into her eyes and she smiled bashfully.

“Gee, I don’t know…what do you think?” She asked playfully and he chuckled.

“I mean can you blame me for asking? Your messages and feelings towards me are kind of hard to read.” He said and she hummed as she bit her lip pensively and then glanced up to his eyes before placing her hands on chest and tiptoeing to graze her lips over his. Her eyes flickered up to his.

“Does this clear things up for you?” She asked with a soft smile and he smirked.

“Ummm, it’s still a little murky.” He teased.

“Oh yeah?” she responded quietly and he hummed teasingly, “Let me make it clearer then.” She whispered before pressing her lips to his. His hands immediately found their place at her waist as hers slithered up to loop around his neck. Their soft and playful kisses soon turned into languid and hungrier kisses as the seconds passed them by in their dark little hiding place.

Harry now had Y/N up against the wall with one hand around the back of her neck and the other against the wall as he sank his teeth into her bottom lip before sliding his tongue in against her own. Her beautiful, breathy moan made his ears perk up and ring. It was such a beautiful and sensual sound, he wanted to put it on a track; layer it in somewhere and commemorate it as the beautiful and artistic sound it was. Her index fingers were hooked into his trouser’s belt loops, keeping him as physically close as she could. She wanted to disappear into the night with him and see where they ended up. The tension between them had been building for months and well, they hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks after they finished production on the album, so she assumed that the tension would dissipate with time. But she was discovering that hadn’t affected her longing for him, not even a little bit.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asked her quietly, and admittedly with a smidge of uncertainty, as his nose skimmed down the length of hers in a delicate and playful gesture.

“Yeah.” She whispered and nodded her head in a double confirmation to him that she wanted to be alone with him.

“Alright.” He smiled against her mouth and she smiled as well before he grabbed her hand and pulled her around the building towards where he parked. He was given a spot right out back instead of having to valet, which would be a waste of precious time with her. So they hurried around to the back and they got inside and took off. He was in his classic, white Mercedes with the top down, so when they were leaving, they were inevitably papped. And as much as she tried to keep her head down to avoid being recognized as the woman in his car any comparison in outfit would easily prove that she had in fact left her own launch party with Harry, her producer.

“God, they’re everywhere!” Y/N griped as they finally got on the main street and were stopped at the traffic light.

“And there’s more.” He said to her as he cocked his head to the people who had followed them on the sidewalk up to the light and were snapping pictures of them in the car.

“Jesus.” She huffed.

“Wait, where’s your stuff?”

“Oh I didn’t bring anything with me, just myself.”

“Not even your wallet or phone?”

“No, I mean, food and drink were provided and every person that I would be texting was there tonight.”

“Richard forbid you from bringing your phone, didn’t he?” Harry asked with a smirk and she sighed.

“OK, yes, he did…he said something about me sulking in the corner all the time or whatever.”

“You do look very unapproachable when you’re on your phone. You’ve got this like…broody, angry face going on.” He said trying to mimic it and she laughed loudly before they took off as the light turned green.

“That’s not my angry face, if anyone should be familiar with my angry face it’s you.” She reminded and he chuckled, “S’my concentration face. Like sometimes I get ideas and I start writing them in my notes or other times I’m reading a book or an article and it’s like so loud that it takes extra willingness to concentrate.” She explained and he smiled at her.

“Well maybe don’t read at parties.” He suggested and she glanced at him incredulously.

“If I don’t read at parties how will I maintain my reputation as mysterious and elusive, Harry?” She asked jokingly and he grinned.

“You’re so annoying.” He muttered as she giggled beside him.

“So where are we going?” She finally asked and he turned to her.

“Ummm, wherever you want to go.” He shrugged and she hummed pensively.

“Take me to…a place that means a lot to you.” She said and he chuckled.

“Here?!” He asked and she nodded, “God...this is my home, tons of places mean a lot to me.” He chuckled as he thought about it, “OK, I’ve got it. Hang on!” He warned with a big smile as he sped up and just made it onto the 405-S ramp.

Y/N’s hair was whipping back with the wind as they sped down the freeway. He was blasting Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac which made her feel like she was the main character because before he played it he said it was dedicated to her elusiveness and mysteriousness, which she appreciated. Soon he was signaling to get off on La Cienega and as they continued driving down the street she saw the giant Randy’s Donut donut and she gasped.

“You know, I’ve never actually been here before! Is this where we’re going?” She asked happily and he chuckled.

“It’s not, but we can stop if you want?”

“It’s alright.”

“You sounded so excited, like you wanted to stop. So I’m gonna stop.” He said as he started to slow down as they approached the entrance and she smiled at him.

“Well, if you insist…” she hummed and he chuckled. They found a spot to park and walked over to the window. It was 10pm but there were still a few people in line waiting to be served. “What do you get?” She asked him.

“Usually the maple raised, wheat and honey cake, or the red velvet one if I’m feeling particularly fancy.” He said to her and she smiled.

“That does sound good…” she said as she peeked around a few people to get a better look at the menu displayed on a big screen inside. “They have a fruity pebbles one.” She gasped.

“Such a child.” He joked.

“I didn’t say I was going to get it. Fruity pebbles are just super nostalgic and they smell amazing.” She defended.

“That’s true, they do smell divine…”

“Oh, they have blueberry…that’s it. That’s the one I want.”

“OK.” He chuckled.

As they stood in line Harry couldn’t help but notice that a few guys in the other line were ogling her a bit too much for his liking. They were obviously young since they were being obnoxious and loud, trying to get her to turn around, but she didn’t seem to be taking the bait. He leaned in closer to her and grabbed her hand, which caught her by surprise and she glanced up to him and he smiled down at her.

“Is this OK?” He asked her lowly and she nodded as she scooted a little closer to him as a light breeze blew over them and made her shiver. She was in a thin little party dress and her platform boots and the night was only getting colder, they were due for more rain over the weekend. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket he could offer her so he just pulled her in front of him and hugged around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile as her hands came up to his and she slotted her fingers in between his. She smiled as his warmth pressed into her back and she just leaned her weight back on him. He leaned down a bit to reach her ear before he spoke, “That’s what I mean when I said people are always trying to impress you.” He said quietly and her body shook with a giggle.

“How is being obnoxious impressive?”

“I literally have no idea.” He chuckled as they moved up in the line.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” They heard from beside them and turned to see a younger girl and her friend standing a few feet away, “We really like your album.” One of the girls said with a nervous smile.

“Oh! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it.” Y/N smiled happily, but she kept her voice down as Harry let her go so she could talk to the girls who started gushing about how pretty she looked. Which they were right, she looked beautiful.

Well, to Harry she always did, but she did just a little bit more when she had events and things to do. Often times he felt that when people did themselves up for events they went so overboard that they barely even looked like themselves, but not Y/N. She had mastered this effortless look that proved that a little goes a long way; she was almost ethereal. He liked that she didn’t care to hire a glam team to turn her into another Hollywood starlet clone; she and the rest of the band did most of their looks themselves. He recalls that at the BRITS earlier in the year she was crammed between him and Kassie, smearing some eyeshadow onto her eyelids and getting on her mascara just minutes before they would have to walk the carpet. Witnessing that made him like her even more. That was what drew him to them in the first place, their authenticity, and well if anyone was a champion of unapologetically being your authentic self it was her. She made everyone feel good about exactly who they were and he loved that about her.

“Harry, would you mind taking a picture for us?” She asked him and he shook his head.

“Course not.” He smiled as one of the girls handed over her phone to him. He took several and then handed it back.

“Can we get one with both of you too? You’re like a total icon.” The girl said to Harry and he shook his head bashfully.

“Hardly.” He said to her humbly as Y/N asked the person ahead of them to take their picture. After they got a few pictures the girls said their goodbyes and got back into the line. As soon as she and Harry stepped up he boxed her in between his body and the counter. “Hi, can I get a blueberry cake, red velvet cake, and a…large? Crewneck?” He said to the woman at the window and she nodded.

“What color for the crewneck? We have gray and navy blue.” She said.

“What color?” He asked Y/N softly and she glanced between him and the cashier.

“Oh! For me?”

“Yeah, you’re shivering and I don’t have anything in my car.” He said to her and she smiled at him.

“Ummm, I’ll get the gray one.” She said to the woman who nodded and then gave them the total before rushing off to grab their stuff. “I’m paying you back.”

“Absolutely not. This is your first time here, so think of it as a commemoration gift.” He said to her and she shook her head. “And if you ever try to pay me back I will return it to you in pennies.” He said and she laughed as she shook her head.

“You’re something else.”

“I know, love. I know.” He hummed.

“Here you are!” The woman said as she returned with the sweater and a baggy with their donuts.

“Thank you!” He and Y/N said simultaneously before walking off to the side. “Gimme these.” Harry said grabbing the donuts from Y/N and he gripped the bag between his teeth as he helped pull the crewneck over her head as she got her arms into the sleeves. Yes, it was oversized on her, but crewnecks were meant to be baggy, they just were. It was a bit long as well, it was a bit shorter on her than the dress she was wearing and it made him wonder what she’d look like in his own clothes. He liked wearing oversized things just as much as everyone else, so he’d imagine that she’d look absolutely swallowed and adorable in his hoodies. They walked back to his car hand in hand before they each had to get into their own sides and as they sat down she turned to him.

“I have to tell you something.” She said and he looked a little bit concerned but nodded, indicating for her to go on. “I really, really love that you don’t open the car door for me.” He looked at her with narrowed eyes, “I swear I’m not being a smart ass or sarcastic. Like when guys do that it just…bothers me because like…. I have functioning arms, you know? Like I can do that myself, I don’t need help! And it’s not like one of those general polite things, like holding the door open for someone who’s behind you! Like that makes sense, because it’s more than one person coming through the door! But in the car only one person can get into the passenger side so why does someone else even think to touch my door?” She asked and he chuckled.

“I can see you’re very passionate about this.” He grinned and she sighed and nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I am…for some weird reason. It’s just relieving and it just might be by favorite thing about you.” She decided and he grinned.

“Seriously? My unwillingness to participate in benevolent sexism is your favorite thing about me?” He asked for clarification and she smiled.

“Yes.”

“It can’t be anything else?” He asked and she rolled her eyes up as she hummed pensively.

“Mmmm… no. That’s it.” She confirmed and he chuckled.

“I’ll check again at the end of the night if that’s your favorite thing about me.” He said smugly and she turned to him with a grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What are you insinuating?” She questioned and he smirked.

“You’ll see…” he hummed as he started the car and they took off. They only drove a few more minutes before Y/N saw the Sizzler’s on her left and then the Forum right up ahead. “Oh…interesting.” She said and he smiled at her.

“Yeah.” He said to her and she hummed, really anxious now to see why this particular place meant a lot to him. They kept driving straight and went around the back of the lot and he wheeled to a stop. It was desolate tonight, which was rare. He put the car in park and she turned to him and he smiled.

“So when I was 14 we came here on a family vacation. Like my parents and sister and aunt and uncle cousins…I’m the baby of the family by the way.” He disclosed and she smiled as he shared this, “So…my oldest cousin discovered that Coldplay had a show and he’d missed their show in England and he wanted to go. My sister was also a fan and I mean, I was too.”

“Yeah, it’s Coldplay!” Y/N said and he chuckled.

“Exactly! So my cousin convinced the adults to let us get tickets, they didn’t want to bring me along because I was the youngest, but I wanted to go. Anyway, saw Coldplay, my first concert ever.” He said and she smiled, “And afterwards we were waiting to get picked up, but my stepdad got lost and ended up going another way so we were just hanging out, right over there because it was well lit.” He pointed to where the trailers and trucks were usually set up, “My cousin and sister went up to see the merch and I just waited there, with my other cousin like they told me to.” He recalled, “And then out of nowhere a couple girls started panicking and Chris and Will walk on over to say hello.”

“No way!” Y/N giggled with surprise and he nodded.

“Yeah! And he was so kind to everyone. I didn’t have anything with me to get a photo or an autograph. But I was the only child there so he gravitated my way, asked where I was from and he was happy to hear that we were from England. And me being the brazen kid I was, I told him I also sang and wanted to start a band with my friends from school, like they did. And he told me that he was rooting for me, to believe in my music, and to never give up on my music. And…so I never did.” He finished his story and she was smiling so brightly. His story was so wholesome it made her eyes well up, that was so beautiful! What an experience to have with someone.

“That’s so amazing, Harry. Like so fucking cool!” She said with excitement and he hummed and nodded.

“I got really lucky that night.” He said softly “And well, whenever I get stuck or feel insecure or like I’m losing my touch I come here and it reminds me to never give up on my music. To continue believing in myself…so that’s why this place means a lot to me.”

“And well, you’ve produced for Coldplay now. Did he remember you?” She asked and he chuckled.

“He kind of did, mostly because I was a British child at one of their LA shows.” He said as they laughed softly, “He didn’t remember what we had spoken about or anything specific. And I did tell him and thank him because, if he hadn’t said that to me I’d definitely be in a whole other world, you know? It was cool and so fucking unreal for someone like me to have that full circle moment that so many people never get.” He expressed and she nodded, “And you know, those of us that get to spend our lives drowning in our passion, making art, literally getting paid to live and experience the best life has to offer just so that we can commemorate it with our art…like we’re so fortunate and so fucking lucky. It’s hard to remember that sometimes with the dark sides of this industry or even just the fame. But this is the best thing that will ever happen to you, Y/N. And what you do now that you have this platform matters more than ever. And that’s why I like you and the band, you guys are so down to earth, you’re in it for the art, you’re in it to have fun, you’re all so genuine and yourselves…never change that. Because as long as you stay in tune with yourself, even when you get stuck or feel like giving up, you’ll find your way back.” He said with certainty. And as he looked back to her she was watching him intently and then nodded in understanding at what he’d just advised. “Sorry, that got super deep, super fast-”

“It’s alright. I mean, we were bound to get deep when I asked you to bring me someplace meaningful to you.” She said and he shrugged and smiled.

“True…”

“And I know that I’ve got this like look about me that screams “I learn on my own” and “I don’t care what anyone says”, but it’s just that, a look. I promise that after the whole thing with Dr. Auclair I started taking in and listening and considering everything you’ve said to me. So I just want you to know that I listened to what you’ve just said to me, and thank you because after feeling so overwhelmed by everything tonight I just… I really needed to hear that. And I’m not going to forget it.” She shared and he smiled as he reached for her hand she smiled as he slotted their fingers together. “H, hand me the aux.” she said and he grabbed his phone and gave it over and she turned the phone away from him to type something out and then she locked it before grabbing his hand again and second later “Champion of the World” started to play over the car’s speaker and he smiled down at his lap before turning his head to look at her.

“Nice one.” He said softly and she smiled brightly at him. She was in love with the way he was looking at her in this moment. Her smile slowly started to fade as she just took him in intently. She was memorizing the details of his perfectly sculpted face, memorizing the indecipherable feeling he was emitting through his eyes. Whatever it was, it was undoubtedly a good feeling. She started to lean in and he joined her in the middle as their lips met with blazing passion as these big, beautiful emotions surged through and between them. “Do…” he paused as his lips smashed into hers once more, “d’you wanna…go back t’mine?” He rushed out with his exhale before their lips met again. He felt her nod ‘yes’ but he wanted to hear her say it. He need to, so that he knew for a fact that he wasn’t imaging that Y/N, this marvelous and radiant person, wanted him too. “Hmmm?” He insisted.

“Yeah.” She mumbled, “Take me home.” She said quietly. It was so hard to tear away from her after she said that to him.

It was just a 20 minute drive to his house in the hills and the whole time they held hands. Once they got there they wasted no time in getting inside and to his bedroom. They were undressing on the way there. It was giggly and clumsy because for some reason she was leading while Harry called out directions to her, but her unfamiliarity with his space was showing as she bumped into things along the way. When she finally got to his room he picked her up from behind and flung her onto his bed. She shrieked as she landed on the mattress with a muted thump. Harry soon climbed over her and kissed her through his smile.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He hummed into her lips and she smiled. “I can’t get over it.” He exhaled before they started making out again.

Y/N whimpered as his erection rubbed over her dribbling pussy. Well, over her panties, but she was so sensitive that he might as well have been rubbing himself bare through her folds. A wave of warmth pulsed through her body as his lips moved down her neck. She arched her back as he started to snake his hands under to get her bra unclasped. He did so quickly and dexterously before pulled it away from her body and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She hummed with pleasure as the other was fondled with intent. He wasn’t being delicate with her and she loved that.

“Oh fuck…” she chuckled as he bit down on her nipple for a few seconds before sucking it hard. She was so wet for him that she was squirming as her cunt throbbed and pulse with need, “Harry. Harry, please.” She keened as she tried to find his hips with her own, “Need you inside. I need to feel you so bad.” She muttered into the dark as he sucked his mark on her breasts.

“Need me, baby?” He asked her before continuing to kiss down her body.

“Yes. Yes, I need you so bad…fuck.” She groaned as he kissed over her clothed cunt. He patted her thigh and she lifted her bum and he dragged her panties down her legs as he kissed right over her clit before licking through her slit and flicking her little bud a few times. “Harry, fuck that’s so good!” She whimpered. His licks started getting heavier and languid, sloppier even. She could feel his stubble and mustache tickling her already hypersensitive pussy as he moved his head from side to side with intent. Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair as she thrusted up to his mouth, grinding herself against him. She noticed that he grew more whiny and vocal as she used him and tugged at his hair and it made her even more aroused.

“You like when I use you to get off?” She asked and his lips turned up in a smile as his eyes fluttered up to hers, “I’ll take that as a yes.” She hummed before biting her lip and moaning, “Fuck, that’s perfect!” She praised him as he sucked her clit, brushing his tongue over it each time he’d suck it in, “Fuck…” She sighed with a smile, “y’suck my clit so good.” She panted as her tummy tightened deliciously with pleasure, “You’re gonna make me come!” She whimpered and he moaned against her, causing her toes to curl as her walls started to pulse hard and fast as she vibrated from the inside out. “Oh fuck!” She shrieked as Harry sunk two fingers into her without a warning and started to fuck her in time with his sucks on her clit. Not slowing down for a moment as she started to come.

Her hips wriggled around and her back arched as she trembled as he pulled yet another orgasm out of her without even letting her come down form the first one. Her ears were ringing and she was covered in goosebumps as the waves of pleasure rippled through her. Finally he started to slow down and then gently eased his fingers out of her.

“Taste so good, baby.” He hummed against her mound before kissing and crawling back up to her mouth. As soon as he was within reach she crashed her mouth onto his.

“That was the best head…holy fucking shit. That thing you did with the sucking and the tongue?!” She expressed with a bewildered smile.

“Enough to update your favorite thing about me?” He asked with a grin and she hummed pensively.

“I think not.” She said and he chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re such a turd.”

“Thank you.” She grinned and he chuckled. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I like still want to have sex with you. Like really badly.” She said and his eyes widened as he chuckled.

“Yeah, ummm, sorry I was just giving you a little break.”

“I don’t take breaks.” She hummed as he leaned over to grab a condom from his bedside table.

“Well, good to know.” He smirked as he knelt up to get it on himself as she repositioned herself against his pillows. Watching him roll down the condom with lustful eyes and a kiss-bitten lip held down beneath her teeth. He was so fucking perfect that it was almost physically painful. And well, Y/N could admit that he was also perfect inside, like where it counted. She pressed herself to sit up and pushed herself up to pull his head down to meet him in a deep and searing kiss. He let himself fall into it and continued his task blindly. When he shifted above her she laid back down as he guided his cock down to her entrance where he gently prodded at her leaking and tight little hole a handful of times before he surged into her. His thick cock pushed her walls apart as he glided in, in one fluid motion.

“Harry!” She gasped, back arched and body tense as he plunged in to the hilt with very little resistance, “Mmmmm you’re so deep!” She whimpered lowly.

“S’that where you wanted to feel me, baby? Are you getting what you wanted? What you need from me?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes, Harry…” she sang breathily as he started to pulse his hips, his tip nudged into her g-spot over and over and over, her breath was hitching and her legs trembling.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing so hard…” he hummed in delight, “Come for me, baby. Cream on my cock.” He panted and she moaned loudly at his filthy words as she came undone. She was coming so hard, she’d never had an orgasm solely from having her g-spot stimulated, it was game changing. A pressure had formed inside of her that she had never felt before, but it was as he had said, that’s exactly where it ached for him and he was satiating that perfectly.

His thrusts slowed down as she settled from her orgasm, but he kept going, slow and deep, not really letting the entire feeling fade. Extending and milking the pleasure for her as far as humanly possible. And it was happening as he groaned and picked up his pace. When he started going he knocked his head back and grunted with each deep pump of his cock into her. She was so wet, the sounds of her arousal sopping her up for him were unreal, she’d never been that wet before. She was certain of it.

“I’m so close. Getting so close.” He groaned lowly as his hips started to snap harder with each dip into her pussy. One of his hands slid up from her waist to her breast, kneading it and playing with it as he brought them both closer and closer to the final orgasm. She was a fucking goddess, he wanted to obsess over her until he had learned every single detail of who she was. “Fuck, rub your little clit. Want you to come with me.” He said and she immediately did as he said. Her orgasm started to build at double speed than before. She was quickly right on the edge with him, holding on just a little bit more, trying to get the most out of this moment together until their bodies demanded their climax. “Oh shit…oh…oh… fuuuuuck.” He grunted before he started to moan as his orgasm overcame him. His desperate thrusts and gorgeous sounds pushed her over the edge. The fact that he was vocal enhanced everything for her, it brought a feeling of pleasure to her that she’d never experienced. As they lay there in satisfaction, recovering from those incredible, earth shattering orgasms she spoke up.

“I like that you’re not shy with your sounds. It’s really attractive.” She hummed as she ran her finger nails down his arm that was draped over her body.

“You know, I usually am more of a heavy breathing kind of guy. But with you being how you are, I don’t know, I just felt like I didn’t have to hold anything I felt back.” He said and she smiled.

“Yeah…you can, do that with me, you know? For like anything you need…Not hold back I mean.” She added, “You can not “hold back” with me anytime and for anything.” She rephrased and he was just smirking as she tried to un-confuse herself. She only stopped when she felt his body shaking before he burst into laughter.

“I got what you meant the first time, baby.” He assured and she shook her head as she laughed. “And I want that for you too. To not hold back with me.”

“OK. I won’t.” She smiled as she confirmed this to him.

After that night everything between Y/N and Harry changed. Any rational human would think that falling in love after one night together was completely insane, but that’s exactly what had happened. The two spent time together every single day up until the day Y/N and her band left for tour. With his newfound time alone he decided to follow through with auditioning for that film he was asked to compose for and after a few nerve-racking weeks he’d found out he’d gotten the part. Obviously, Y/N was happy for him and they celebrated over FaceTime. But now that he had a new gig he needed to just take some time to get the compositions together.

Harry worked diligently on the film score for three months. He only needed 4 pieces as there would be other songs weaved through out the film. And then it was off to filming. Filming was in Canada and that went on for 8 months. Y/N had been able to visit after the band’s tour ended, but it was just for two weeks as they were heading back into the studio soon. And just like that it had been a year apart. Because he was working on his film, he couldn’t produce their next album, though during their down time over the next holiday he did give it a listen and share some insights with her. And then the following March he got some bad news from back home about his father and he headed back for a few weeks.

When he returned he was really upset about it, but he had solely come to break up with Y/N. His dad didn’t have very long apparently and he’d been away for so long that he decided that he needed to be there with him for as long as he could. He was going to look after him until the end. And well, Y/N completely understood why he wanted and needed to do that. It was sad, but amicable. And for the first few months they continued their routine of chatting regularly, but she soon discovered that it was just prolonging her pain. She wrote a song from it that she called “Good Grief”. It was about grieving the beautiful things, remembering them with love, and simultaneously talking about it being hard to let things like that go. That song launched them into an entirely new era and things took off for the band which ended up putting even more distance between the two. Harry also didn’t move back to LA, so they didn’t even have a chance to easily see each other and with each decision pulling them further apart they inevitably fell out of touch.

It was three years after their break up now and the two were doing well. Y/N was about to be engaged. Well, she assumed she was. Her boyfriend, Riley had been extra odd all week and her friends and family were oddly unavailable so she was expecting it. Harry had just moved back to LA after all that time, he just needed a change of pace after looking after his dad for one year and then dealing with the aftermath of it all for the next few. He was excited to come back, reconnect with some old friends…and of course, talk to Y/N. He hadn’t moved on, he hadn’t loved anyone like he had loved her and he just wanted to be back in her life, in nay capacity. She was it for him, he knew that for certain.

It was a day like any other, except for one thing…she was craving a donut. But not just any donut, a red velvet donut from Randy’s. She knew it was completely ridiculous to be driving out to Inglewood at 4pm for a donut, but she was alone for the evening and had nothing better to do since apparently everyone in her life was mysteriously busy. She got in line for the drive thru and as she glanced out of her window absentmindedly she saw a very familiar face walking over to the back of the line. She smiled wide and her heart did flips and her stomach fluttered with butterflies at the sight of him. Of seeing him here of all places. Her mind went back to that night he brought her here. How perfectly wonderful that had been.

“Harry!” She shouted out the window and he glanced in her direction and his lips widened in a smile as he waved. “I’m gonna get out!” She shouted and he shot her a thumbs up and got out of the line to meet her where she parked. She rushed out of her car and straight into his arms. He hugged her tight and spun her around as they laughed and greeted each other with enthusiasm. “Wow! How insane to be running into you here!”

“I know…” he shook his head.

“What brings you to LA?” She asked.

“I’m moving back actually. Just touched down and figured a little detour wouldn’t hurt.” He said and her eyebrows raised.

“Oh, that’s good. It’ll be nice to have you within reach.” She said with a smile and he nodded, “I’m sorry about everything with your dad. I wanted to call or something, but I didn’t know if I even had the right to since we haven’t talked in a long time.” She explained herself.

“You always have a right, Y/N. Love of my life, remember?” He said and she smiled.

“Light of my life.” She said as she reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

They got their donuts and talked for a bit before they headed off. She waited a few days and this intense need to see him again didn’t go away. So she talked to the band about it, they knew each of them the best and well, they all agreed that maybe they needed a better form of closure. So she reached out to Harry and asked him if he wanted to go for lunch. And he accepted, which is what led them to their meet up at Seabird’s Kitchen.

“You look pretty.” He complimented her as he hugged her quickly.

“Thanks. I rushed over from a meeting I had this morning.”

“Ah, work attire.”

“Yeah.” She giggled, “So how are you settling in? Are you back at the old house?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Nah, got something smaller. Got rid of that place a few years back.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” She pouted, “So many amazing memories there.” She hummed and Harry nodded.

“So what’s up?” He asked her and she sighed.

“Well…as you know, what we had together it was…magic. Literally heaven on earth.”

“We were pretty perfect weren’t we?” He smiled fondly and she nodded.

“Yeah…and ummmm, well I’ve never really been able to 100% move on because well…there were just a lot of things left unsaid because we kind of broke up and then you went back home. And I guess I just…didn’t want to talk to you about that when I knew that you were dealing with so much already.” She explained and he hummed. “I guess I just needed closure on a few things because…well, I ummm….” She swallowed thickly, she had no idea why she felt guilty saying this to him, but it just felt wrong to tell Harry this information, it didn’t make any sense, “I think I’m getting engaged really soon.” She said and his eyebrows shot up.

“Oh!” He said and quickly morphed his surprise into a smile instead of the frown that was clawing itself to the surface, “Congrats!” He smiled brightly. He knew that she had a boyfriend…but he doesn’t know why it never felt real to him. Maybe because he hadn’t heard it from her own two lips. Or perhaps because he was far away so it didn’t feel like a reality to him? Who knows, but reality hit him over the head with that one and he could feel his heart breaking over her once again.

“Thank you.” She forced her smile as best as she could. As she looked down at his hand she could very easily picture herself holding it in hers. She could see herself enjoying it and her heart warming as she pictured their fingers interlacing together. As if no time at all had ever passed. It made her feel afraid now as all of it started rushing back to her.

“Hey, are you alright?” Harry asked her and she nodded.

“Yeah, I just got distracted.” She shook her head, “Ummm, well anyway I just wanted to I guess give us the proper goodbye we deserved.” She said and he nodded with a broken heart but he stayed for 3 hours, catching up, joking around, talking, reminiscing until it was time to go. Harry was walking Y/N to her car since she had parked quite far down the street. And when they got to her car she had him hop in so that she could give him a ride back to his car. And they hummed to her music playing from her phone as they made the short drive over, and soon they were just saying their goodbyes. He was hugging her over the console, mentally saying a different kind of goodbye to her that was making his heart wilt in his chest. They were about to pull back when “Champion of the World” started to play and she smiled as she relaxed in his hold before pulling back a bit, their foreheads pressing together and it felt like no time had passed at all.

“We’ve been here before.” He whispered and she hummed in confirmation as her eyes fluttered shut to give herself a moment. This was hurting far more than she expected it to. It felt like they were breaking up all over again and this time it was her choice and he was complacent in her decision. It felt wrong to be saying goodbye to each other twice. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna fall out of love with you.” He said softly and her eyes fluttered open and she slightly frowned as she looked from his eyes to his lips a couple of times before just doing what her intrusive thoughts had been telling her to do since he’d shown up this afternoon. She surged forward and slotted her lips against his.

Harry didn’t hesitate to kiss back. One deep kiss led them to a stolen peck, then another, and then a deeper kiss, and more and more. It felt like they were kissing to makeup for the three years they hadn’t been able to kiss. There was still so much love between them, Y/N supposes it had just been dormant this entire time he was gone. And she had indeed missed how it felt to be completely and undeniably gone for someone. There wasn’t another thought running through her mind in that moment, so as they pulled away she knew that she was still in love with him. She had been this whole time.

“Fuck…sorry.” He whispered and she shook her head.

“I kissed you, so it’s alright. I’m sorry, if I kissed you and you didn’t want to kiss me.” She apologized.

“I’d never not want to kiss you.” He chuckled and she smiled with a heat in her cheeks from his flirtations. “Do you regret it yet?” He asked teasingly and she shook her head, but she wasn’t smiling. She was completely serious.

“I can’t regret anything that happens between us. It’s just a proper goodbye, yeah?” She said sadly and he nodded wordlessly.

“Hey, you better invite me to the wedding. Just because it’s not me, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there or that I’m not happy for you. OK?”

“OK.” She smiled and with that he got out and they went their separate ways.

She cried the entire way home and she felt completely heart broken. Like she had lost him all over again and she couldn’t be getting married to someone when she was in love with someone who wasn’t the person she was supposed to marry. She was so absolutely confused and it was affecting her work horribly. They were in the middle of some writing sessions for their next album and she was not being even a little bit helpful. Her mind was elsewhere. And it was like that for two whole weeks and everyone was fed up with her.

“Dude what is wrong with you?” Kassie asked her and she groaned.

“I don’t know…I’m really distracted.” She fibbed and everyone sighed, “I just…can’t do this today. Sorry, guys.” She said before gathering her things and heading out. When she got to her apartment Riley was there making dinner and it made her heart sad that it wasn’t Harry.

“Hey, love!” He smiled and the smile faded as soon as he saw her face.

“Ummm, he’s back. And I asked to see him.” She said to Riley who sighed. He had been there through the entire break up, between her and Harry. At the time he was a session musician who’d been hired to play on one of their songs. But he was so nice and thoughtful. But he also knew the love that she and Harry shared for each other. In a way he always expected their paths to cross again, but he’d just hoped that it wouldn’t affect her. But he still did, in every way apparently.

“When are you seeing him?”

“It was two weeks ago.” She said and he nodded. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was just hoping to get some closure on some stuff. But then I…I realized that I’m still in love with him. And I kissed him.” She confessed everything, “I’m really sorry.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” Riley said with disappointment.

“I know…I should’ve told you right away but I was trying to figure out what I should do.”

“There’s only one thing to do, Y/N. You said you’re in love with him.” Riley shook his head, “You know, I always knew this would happen some day.” He said lowly, “I was stupid for thinking you’d pick me though.” He said as he made his way towards the couch and grabbed his sweater and he furiously slipped into his sneakers, “Please, don’t call me when this all blows up in your face.” He said with spite before he slammed the door hard on his way out.

She frowned, obviously she deserved that, but he was a good guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he just….wasn’t the love of her life. Maybe she was foolish for thinking that things could start back up with Harry. Well, it’d been a few years, they’d been through plenty of things on their own, it was safe to say that they were pretty different people now. But the way things felt were exactly the same, it wasn’t just nostalgia. Being with him made her feel alive and in control and like everything would be alright. She was a bit stuck with her next step, as she weighed out her options. She sighed and decided to take a drive to the place that always helped her think.

The sun was setting as she placed her hands on the white rails of the Forum parking lot. After Harry left she’d made it her special place to come think. He had given this place a new meaning to her and it felt like the best place to decide on whether that goodbye they had was the final one or if she should give in to her desires and go after him. She stood there for a few minutes, just the sounds of the city around her.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” She heard and turned around to see Harry in his shorts and hoodie, smiling brightly and she smiled back.

“What brings you here?” She asked.

“Feeling a bit stuck…And you?”

“Same.” She responded. They were quiet for a little bit before she spoke up, “I think we’re feeling stuck over the same thing.” She said to him and he glanced to her, his eyes soft as he looked over to her.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Whether it’s too late for us or not.” She said softly and he hummed as he looked at her.

“Well what do you think?” He asked and she bit her lip.

“I told Riley we kissed…he told me not to call him.” She said and he frowned.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” She said softly and he glanced up into her eyes with a gleam of hope, “I’ve been in love with you this whole time. Waiting for you. I want us back. I-if you’ll still have me.” She offered a hopeful smile and he grabbed her face and leaned in to kiss her.

“Course I’ll have you.” He hummed with a smile, “You’re the love of my life.” He said softly and she smiled against his lips.

“And you’re the light of my life.”

As always, all feedback is appreciated!

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1d1195 · 9 months

Text

Half & Half

Here is my new soulmate idea. (New meaning different than my other ones I wrote back in the day.) A tattoo appears on the left ring finger of each person when they turn 16 years old. It’s a black outline, nothing crazy—obviously, it’s on the ring finger. It has to do with how you meet your person. (You’ll see in a second.) It’s vague, there’s not much rhyme or reason.

Q&A (because I feel like there are always questions when it come to soulmate ideas):

Q: Sam, won’t multiple people have the same tattoo? A: Great question. Potentially. It’s irrelevant though for the sake of the story.

Q: How do they know it’s their other half? A: Another good question. The pair of tattoos change to the same color.

Q: Well, Sam, hypothetically, if four people are in the same room and meet their respective half can’t they all have the same color change? How will they know which person they belong with? A: It won’t happen. Q: How do you know? A: Because I wrote it that way.

Q: What happens if you don’t find your soulmate in this universe? A: Then you’ll be sad like Harry.

Q: What do you mean Harry is going to be sad?! A: Warnings: Lots of angst, sad, pining Harry, mentions of death, mentions of sex (pg-13 at most)

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask! (But be warned I'm making this all up on the spot!)

That’s it. That’s all you get. (there will also be like one or two liberties I'm taking with this idea that may have forgot to disclose that you'll read in a few minutes). A black tattoo that marks how you’ll meet your other half. When you meet that person, the pair of tattoos change to the same color. I don’t have a preview for you because this turned into a lengthy foreword. Enjoy :)

How can you miss someone you’ve never met? / Cause I need you now, but I don’t know you yet / But can you find me soon because I’m in my head? / Yeah, I need you now, but I don’t know you yet.

Harry looked at the little tattoo on his ring finger. He’d been staring at it since he was a teen. The morning of his sixteenth birthday to be exact. It was small, the length of his first knuckle to the next and he thought it was a cruel fate that it was a little coffee cup. How was that supposed to narrow his search? Why couldn’t it have been something like Niall’s—a snake? How often did one encounter a snake? That would be easy (and it was for Niall). Or something like Gemma’s—a diploma? There was only a certain number of graduations Gemma anticipated attending.

That was more than twelve years ago he woke up with the taunting little marking. For the first week he drank no less than four cups of coffee a day and had his mum drive him all over town to the different shops in hopes of finding her. Anne took it all in stride knowing how she spent eight hours at the library the first day she saw the book tattoo on her finger when she was Harry’s age. It was just something that needed to be done. The heart wanted, what the heart wanted.

He wished he knew what was on his love’s ring finger. It would have been better if the two markings were paired in the tattoo that appeared on his skin. It wasn’t much help to know it had something to do with their first meeting. It could be anywhere. Harry could have coffee anywhere. After that first week, he decided to relax. He was sixteen. There was plenty of time to meet his soulmate.

But sixteen became seventeen and suddenly he was twenty-eight, no soulmate, and the little coffee cup on his finger mocked him more and more every day. There was therapy or services he could try. People could potentially help, but it just felt so tragic. He wanted to just know. Wanted it to be a natural meeting; the way it was intended. Simply discovering one another exactly how the tattoos indicated they would. None of his friends or family needed help. The many Google searches told him it took a mere average of five years to find their other half.

He had more than doubled that time. Twelve years. The person that he was destined to meet was somewhere out there with who knows what etched on their skin. Maybe they had a coffee cup too. Harry had heard of that. But Niall’s soulmate had a balloon because he had taken his nephew to the little balloon cart after the snake exhibit at the zoo. Both the little outlines on their fingers turned green as they met. It happened. He found her.

Gemma’s soulmate had a camera—someone who happened by at the exact moment they needed someone to take a picture of their family after she graduated. Their outlines turned a brilliant shade of red. They had met. She found him. They could start their lives together.

Anyway, it was unlikely Harry and his other half both had coffee cups.

It wasn’t like Harry had a tragic upbringing that he desperately needed his love at the other end of this tattoo to help him cope through life. He adored his mother and sister. He had a great education. He wasn’t bullied and had a set of good friends. He had a stable job and a good home. If anything, it seemed kind of selfish of him to be so upset he was without his soulmate when everything else was good.

But he longed for his soulmate. All day. Every moment. It ached to his core. He swore his heart was beating for his person, tapping out a rhythm that sounded like a name that he wasn’t allowed to hear. His friends and family were all concerned for his well-being. They couldn’t imagine the heartache Harry was suffering and they wouldn’t wish it on their worst enemy. All-encompassing adoration and love? He had plenty of that to give. He wanted to be at the receiving end of it. A match made in heaven. Or whatever cosmic reality was out there. Harry had watched so many movies and read so many stories depicting the meet-cutes between soulmates. He wanted his.

There were therapies and people to help if you lost your soulmate. These, essentially, were dating sites if you didn’t want to be alone after an untimely passing or something else (although Harry couldn’t imagine a scenario that didn’t include death—what was the something else?). Harry thought about the websites and the grief counseling. Because as he approached his twenty-third birthday, he was getting lonely. All of his friends and acquaintances were paired by then and found the loves of their lives by the time he graduated university—they fell well within the average time. He was jealous, simply put. How could he not be?

“Oh, Harry,” Sarah cooed, kissing his cheek, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as he scrolled through options on his phone. She met Mitch when she was a child—the tattoos and color changing appearing instantaneously. It was extremely rare, but it was effortless: a swing and a slide. Light purple. Another match. One moment blending into the next without pause. They found each other before Harry even had a tattoo on his finger. “You’ll find her. You deserve love more than anyone I know.”

He hoped she was right because he was rapidly losing hope.

Tomorrow was his twenty-ninth birthday after all.

How can you miss someone you’ve never seen? / Oh, tell me are your eyes brown, blue, or green? / And do you like it with sugar and cream? / Or do you take it straight, oh, just like me?

Anne said the same thing as Sarah—but he thought she still had hope because she wanted her son to be happy and that’s what a mum did. She had hope even when Harry didn’t.

Harry had a soft heart. He was sensitive. He wanted to be in love more than he wanted anything else in his life. But he went through the motions. Finishing school, getting a job, and doing his best to get through each day without someone to share it with. He could feel pity oozing from every person he met, and they saw the black ink on his finger. His friends spoke in hushed whispers agreeing to any coffee shop Harry wanted to meet at each weekend.

Each night came with a fitful sleep. A different pair of colored eyes appeared in his dream of someone he didn’t know yet. There were so many dreams of meeting his favorite person. So many good ones. So many bad ones. All of which he woke up heartbroken once more, that he hadn’t met the love of his life.

He graduated with top honors because there weren’t many people in school who didn’t have the other half of their soul by their side. Especially by the end of the four years. It was hard for his friends to go out with him and watch him not find the love he was looking for. Harry wasn’t one for partying excessively—he had plenty of fun times in university with his friends at parties without his other half, that wasn’t something he regretted. But by the time graduation rolled around, the parties got further and few between. His friends didn’t need to go out the way he did. They didn’t have to search anymore.

Harry lost the most hope during his third year. He tried dating people he met at coffee shops and cafes. Dating was a loose term. Harry’s dates with those that lost someone or those that, like him, had given up weren’t all that fruitful for either party. Call him old-fashioned, but if she was out there, he wanted to save every intimate part of himself. A sweep of the lips across a cheek, that was all he could muster. Companionship to stave off the loneliness, that was all he could manage at best. Some were blatant in showing their disappointment. But most usually understood—they’d do anything to get their other half back or to find them.

He prayed to whatever was out there that she felt the same way.

The only solace he had was knowing that maybe, just maybe, she was out there, feeling just as crummy as he was. Not that he wanted the love of his life to feel crummy. At the very least, it would be another thing to tie them together and something to discuss when he finally found her. He kept a list of things he wanted to know. Several lists.

The first list was filled with superficial things—favorites mostly: color, food, movie, etc. Outward things that he wanted to know but really, they were things that anyone who knew the most basic information about her may know. The next list was slightly deeper; things that people only closest to her may know. Things that made her tick. What were her political views? Did she have a good home life? Was she a summer or a winter kind of person? How did she take her coffee--with half and half?

Is that why the coffee cup was there? Did she even like coffee? Has it been a teacup all this time?

The final list was deeper, intimate, things that he wouldn’t anyone to know about himself (or her, if he was honest) except maybe a therapist. Did she suffer her first heartbreak despite knowing she had a soulmate out there? Did she believe in an afterlife or reincarnation? Did she have any regrets or suffer ever?

Had she waited like Harry did?

Part of him hated the idea that she may not have felt the same way regarding intimacy. Maybe she gave that part of her to someone else. Someone she had met at a coffee shop and maybe she thought the tattoo changed color. Sometimes Harry thought his tattoo had changed. He believed it so vehemently. The shade of black looked gray-er one day. Another day it looked sort of navy-blue.

It was wishful thinking because even if it did, he never found who was supposed to be his other half at the time.

But he also believed that even if she did have a difference of opinion on intimacy, he would trust her judgment implicitly. She believed she was doing the right thing at the time and that was enough for Harry.

He woke up on his twenty-ninth birthday the same way he had for the last thirteen years—without a soulmate and a heavy heart.

Cause lately it’s been hard / They’re selling me for parts / And I don’t wanna be modern art

Harry started therapy when he turned twenty-seven. He was feeling very low without anyone to come home to. His therapist was helpful and extremely kind. But Harry could tell by the pink coloring on his ring finger that he had already met his other half. While his directions and ideas to help Harry cope with the grief of not knowing, it wasn’t something he could fully empathize with. Harry fully believed that. It wasn’t his therapist’s fault either—how could Harry blame him for finding his soulmate?

His therapist recommended websites with more successful ratings. His office even had a program that Harry would be perfect for. In fact, if he was interested in it enough, he would be a great candidate to speak to others in similar situations. There was a chance for Harry’s picture to be on a pamphlet to help others like him. He could tell his therapist was excited about the prospect of helping others like Harry. But it would only be another reminder to Harry that he was alone.

Harry found himself balling his hands into fists to keep from screaming.

His friends asked if he wanted to do anything for his birthday. For the last seven years they had done a coffee crawl in hopes of Harry finding someone that changed his tattoo for good. But this year Harry wanted to be alone.

“Are you sure?” Mitch asked in disbelief. He could hear the alarm in his voice. He could hear the covered whispers from Sarah behind the scenes. He nodded and Mitch was silent waiting for Harry to say something. But he didn’t speak for a full three minutes. When he did, Mitch wasn’t oblivious to the sniffle he heard and the way Harry’s voice broke.

“M’jus...” he shook his head. “S’fine,” he shrugged and swallowed all the emotions. He looked at that horrible, ugly, little mocking coffee cup. “Jus’...tired,” he told his friend.

“Yeah...sure...,” Mitch nodded. “Let me know if you need something, Harry. Happy birthday.”

It just didn’t feel happy.

Harry spent his birthday sulking in his apartment. He called out sick for three days of work so he could lie in bed, mourning the loss of someone he didn’t even know. On that third day he scheduled an impromptu therapy appointment begging the man to just do something to end Harry’s suffering. He wanted to be in love...he wanted to be loved.

But his therapist could only do so much. It was one big waiting game. One big, cruel terrible game.

“Uh...hi...m’name’s Harry,” Harry said into the microphone. He placed the guitar on his knee and brought the microphone closer to his lips. “M’therapist...suggested I sing when m’feeling down; s’been a while since I sang in front of a crowd,” he explained to the quiet group. “A way t’cope. Uh...in case it wasn’t obvious, I haven’t...met m’other half,” he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Been waiting thirteen years and four days.”

A few people had their attention focused on Harry. There were a few quiet interjections of ‘aw.’ A couple gasps of shock. There was one quiet happy birthday toward the front. Harry tuned his guitar for a moment. “I didn’t write this,” he smiled wryly. “But I believe every word of it,” he nodded in affirmation and swallowed. “How can you miss someone you’ve never met?” He began.

As he sang, he focused on the playing and singing the right words. He barely looked at the little crowd of the quiet, late-night cafe. He didn’t tell his friends about this. It was for him only. His next method of coping. When he finished the song there was a smattering of applause and he nodded gratefully, shoving his guitar in its case, before rushing outside. He took heaving breaths, the air from his lips accumulating into a cloud in the space in front of him.

That did not feel cathartic the way his therapist said it would. It was overwhelming and Harry actually thought it was one of the worst things he ever did. He felt like puking and began pacing away from the café stopping a few meters further up the sidewalk trying to console himself and his feelings.

“Excuse me?” Harry’s heart almost burst at the sound of her voice. He turned to the person hurrying up the path to him. His heart leapt but he kept his fingers pressed into the palms of his hand. He was going to leave imprints from his nails pressing into the skin.

She had a scarf draped around her neck and a pair of gloves, no coat. “I didn’t want to miss you! Harry, right?” she asked, shivering against the chilly February air pausing beside him as he looked back at the road in front of them. He gave a half nod. “That was beautiful,” she sounded like a song herself. But Harry had thought he met his soulmate before, he knew better than to get attached to just the sound of someone’s voice. There was one person he met ages ago—he couldn’t even remember what year it was that he was so sure was his soulmate. But when he looked, her tattoo was sky blue...and Harry’s remained black.

Harry also taken many science classes and knew the earth was tilted on its axis. But he was certain it had inexplicably turned upside down the moment he heard her voice.

He was still fearful it was too good to be true.

He didn’t dare look at his finger.

“I saw you rushing out here—boy, it’s really cold! I...I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she explained as she tilted her chin down to hide below her scarf. If Harry was smart, he would ask to go back inside so she wouldn’t freeze to death. It wasn’t his fault he was a sad, broken man.

Instead, he was speechless, waiting for the inevitable. For her to ask to see his tattoo. He pressed his fingers harder against his own hand. Instead, she bit her lip, her nose turning pink in the frosty temperature. “I brought you some hot chocolate,” she told him. Harry took this moment to realize between her gloved hands she held a coffee cup—or rather, a cup of hot chocolate. Hot chocolate. The same kind of cup that he knew was outlined on his finger. He didn’t take the drink from her. He couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, he was frozen in place.

Instead, he managed to turn his attention to her eyes for the first time. They were so gentle, so kind. There was understanding etched all over her face. Harry just laid it out to a whole group of strangers the hurt he was feeling. He knew she knew. She didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t talking. So, she continued. “My tattoo is a guitar...and you were the only person in there with a guitar...so...it’s,” she smiled and shook her head. Like it was an inside joke between them already. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “It’s gold now, this like beautiful, shimmering gold...I didn’t even want to cover it because I want to look at it all the time—and it’s only been about ten minutes like this but—God, it’s so cold out!—but I didn’t want...couldn’t miss you so I didn’t wear a coat—can I see your tattoo?” She rushed, still shivering. The poor girl.

Harry felt lightheaded. She was right here. A guitar. A cup of hot chocolate. It had to be.

Right?

Harry shook his head. “N-no,” he mumbled. The rejection broke her gentle, beautiful features. The poor thing. Why would he say that?! “M’scared,” he admitted.

She swallowed nervously. Her expression was a little more guarded than when she first stood next to him, but less broken than when Harry outright said no. “I just moved here,” she nodded—complete understanding back on her face. Her teeth were chattering. Harry was horrible to make her suffer like this. “I’ve been looking at this goddamn guitar for eleven years and you should know, I have no musical talents whatsoever. I took so many music classes in high school. I attended every band concert at my college. I haunted my local music store. I—” her voice cracked, and Harry heard the desperation that he had felt for so many years. It ached him to know she felt the same way. Worse than his own pain. He wanted to yank her heart out of her and cradle it, hold it and nurse it back to health. He’d give her the shattered half of what was left of his own heart if that would make her pain go away. She looked at the cup between her hands, tears lining her lashes so beautifully Harry was really starting to believe it was her.

“Baby, I threw a dart at a map,” she whispered. “I couldn’t take it, Harry. I applied for the first job I could find that used my degree in this town. I found an apartment. I packed up and left everyone and everything I ever knew to find my soulmate,” she sniffed. There were no fallen tears, but Harry thought she probably had cried plenty. Harry certainly had. “Everyone I know, thinks I’m crazy,” he knew that feeling very well. “I took the very first flight out possible. So, I’ve been stuck in my old time zone I won’t sleep until tomorrow afternoon. I was tired of unpacking. Tired of being hopeful and I just wanted to get some hot chocolate because it’s so cold, you know? So I went to this café that I Googled—it’s the only place open at eleven at night,” but Harry already knew that. She brought a gloved hand to her lips. Lips that Harry really wanted to kiss. “I know you have two years of waiting on me. I’m sorry about that—I didn’t know we weren’t in the same place, honey. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Like it was her fault. Harry felt so broken that she was taking the blame for it all, but he couldn’t get his vocal cords to work. It wasn’t her fault. These things happened. It just sucked. It sucked the life out of Harry for thirteen years, but Harry remembered eleven years without her just as well. It’s when he started therapy after all. She had suffered too. “Please,” her voice cracked again. “I need to see your tattoo,” she begged.

It was so quiet on that cold street. His chest hurt; his throat ached. It felt like he was trapped in the smallest of rooms, the walls closing on him and pressing him into a cube of pain. He held out his left hand. She rolled her lips into her mouth. Her shoulders were heaving with the greatest weight she had ever carried. Harry wished he could be braver and help her out, but he was so terrified she was wrong. This was the closest break in his search he had ever had and if she was wrong, he thought it would kill him, surely.

She switched the coffee cup to her right hand. With her free one, she slid her gloved index finger over his bare digit. She released a breathy, watery giggle. Another inside joke between the two of them. “Don’t suppose it’s always been gold?” She asked.

Harry knew when his therapist asked what it felt like when he finally met her, he would never be able to describe the moment accurately. He tried to take it all in. The sounds, the smells, the feelings. His eyes were blurred with relieved tears so he couldn’t take in what he saw but he finally looked down at that beautiful tattoo of his. An iridescent, glittering gold. With her teeth she pulled her glove off her hand—his poor love had to be freezing but she didn’t stop—showing Harry how her little guitar outline matched the color of his cup perfectly, sliding her ring finger against his making the first brush of her skin against his the most magical feeling he had ever felt.

So, this is what it felt like to be whole.

In the same moment, she dropped the mug. It shattered to pieces on the cold sidewalk, stained her pale colored shoes in chocolate liquid and soaked her discarded glove. But Harry didn’t even have a second to react to it because her arms were around his neck. Her face was buried in his shoulder. “I thought it was a coffee cup,” he croaked, wrapping his arms around her middle. She giggled some more. It might be his new favorite sound. He pulled her close, feeling the shards of the mug crunching below their shoes. They stayed like that, Harry’s heart thrumming against his ribs, positively ready to jump into her chest to be a whole heart, finally. He squeezed her, crushed him to her, terrified to let her go. He would need a new therapist to cope with this kind of anxiety.

He pushed her back from him and he brought his hands to her cheeks, trying to take in every inch of the beautiful face he longed to see, touch, and feel every night he slept. He never wanted to stop looking at her. He was scared to let go of her for even a second.

Maybe he didn’t need to explain it to his therapist. This moment would just be theirs. A cold street, a broken mug, and two halves of one soul finally found.

He pressed his lips to her forehead then each eyelid, her nose, her cheeks. He tried to kiss every pore on her skin. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” he admitted. Her heart fluttered. “I know s’pathetic,” his lips never stopped the kisses to her face. His voice muffled by her skin. He pressed his lips again and again to the same spaces. It warmed her, he could tell. Her cheeks turned a deep red, but it wasn’t due to the cold.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered, and he watched as the tears dripped down her cheeks. Harry had the fleeting thought that meant she hadn’t waited and now that she was finally here, he knew it really didn’t matter. “You really are my soulmate,” she whispered, which proved of course she waited—she was all his.

Harry ran his thumb along her lip and sank his mouth to touch hers. He moaned at the feeling, the warmth, the electricity that ran through her and into him. A completed circuit. Whole. She whimpered again, kissing him back and wrapped her arms around his neck again. He squeezed her close, her toes lifting off the ground.

“Can I take y’home with me, angel?” He begrudgingly pulled away. She quickly nodded, her heart fluttering at the word angel. He didn’t even mean to call her that, it rolled effortlessly off his tongue. “I have...so many questions t’ask you.”

“Please,” she nodded eagerly.

Harry held her left hand because it was without a glove. She was also still without a coat—abandoned in the late-night cafe, but they marched on anyway.

But I only got half a heart to give to you. / And I hope it’s enough.

Harry gave her his heaviest sweatshirt and made more tea so he could stay awake and keep her warm. Her jaw still chattered every so often, and they sat in silence for a few moments. Sitting on his bed. Harry had never had a girl in his bed before. He held her hand in both of his. The tea on his bedside table. He was staring at their tattoos. The pair that somehow matched after all his suffering. He thought gold was his new favorite color.

“I have lists,” he whispered. “Of things I want t’know.”

Smiling, that gorgeous smile of hers, she nodded easily. “You can ask me anything,” she promised.

Harry wondered if this was how all soulmates felt. To be heard and seen. This implicit need to be broken open and share every detail they could think of. “I don’t want t’fall sleep,” he murmured. But sleep was winning. He didn’t want it. He found her. He wanted to be awake and ask her all his questions. He wanted to memorize her skin, find every freckle. Wanted to kiss her again and again until he felt like his heart wasn’t half of a lump of muscle anymore. She deserved a whole heart.

She swallowed. “Harry, I’m going to stay,” she promised. It wasn’t distrust he felt. But it was a new ache that he wasn’t sure he could describe. Worry, maybe? That was about as close as he could get to describing it. He was afraid she was a figment, a dream. A really wonderful dream. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, it’s my favorite.”

Breakfast. One favorite down, only a thousand more to go. She gently pushed his shoulder down and she rested her ear on his chest. “Dreamed about your heartbeat,” she murmured. Harry wondered if she heard the way it skipped a beat as she spoke. He kissed the top of her head. “If I’m not right here when you wake up, I’ll be in the kitchen, alright?” He nodded. He hoped she would be here though. Waking up without her attached to him after this crazy, beautiful night might make him a little worse for wear in the morning. Would it be crazy to say he loved her? That was crazy. Whether they were soulmates or not. Despite that he did love her. “I love you,” she whispered. “Always have.”

It wasn’t crazy. Not at all. Not the way she said it. If anything, it made the most sense in the world. “I love you, too,” he felt like crying and if it wasn’t for the clock on his nightstand reading two in the morning, he might have actually cried before he fell asleep.

The knocking on the door woke him. So did the near shouts of his name. His love was no longer lying on top of him, but the knocking must have gotten her out of bed. It was nearly nine the next morning, the sun poking through the blinds. It was warm, his bed smelled like her.

He heard his door creak. The gasps. “Who are you?” He heard Sarah ask.

She giggled. “I’m the coffee cup,” even the way she introduced herself was perfect. Maybe he would keep the hot chocolate detail to himself. It seemed that she was willing to do the same by not telling them it wasn’t a coffee cup all these years.

“Oh, fucking finally!” Mitch cheered.

“Princess!” Niall shouted and Harry chose that moment to enter the main room, one of his best friends lifting the sweet girl into a massive hug that made him somehow feel more whole than he ever thought he could. “We’ve been waiting forever for you,” he told her. She simply giggled more, returning his hug.

“Easy, please. I jus' got her,” Harry murmured.

Sarah, seeing Harry finally appeared, threw herself at Harry with a choked half-laugh, half-cry. He kissed the side of her head. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered.

Niall and Mitch, being the guitar enthusiasts they were, found her little tattoo unbelievably adorable and nearly unfair they had a snake and a swing. “I quite literally had no idea how I was supposed to find a musician when I can only sing—kind of.”

The boys asked her how it happened last night. Was that why Harry didn’t answer their texts or calls? Niall said he would go back and get her things—her purse, her coat, her phone. He knew the owner and was adamant that her things would be safely in the lost and found. She didn’t even care. They asked where she was from and Harry realized how gentle and guarded her answers were—they weren’t revealing, no long explanations.

She kept glancing at Harry with a knowing smile with every question she answered. It took everything in him to not cry from the fact she was keeping her answers short because she knew Harry would want to know the answers first—would want to ask more.

Sarah was looking at her as if she put the stars in the sky—Harry only knew that look because that’s how he felt as well. “Was...was it worth all that pain?” She asked. “I can’t...I can’t imagine,” she glanced at the little slide on her finger that had been there since she was six years old. She shook her head in disbelief. Sad for Harry

But he nodded anyway. As if for thirteen years he didn’t have the most broken heart known to man. “So very much,” he affirmed giving Sarah a squeeze around the shoulders.

“I was just about to make breakfast; would you like to join us?” She asked the three of them. Harry had never been an us. It was like a magic spell. Every word from her lips was like a soothing little cleanser meant to fix all the broken parts of him.

His friends smiled and looked at Harry for confirmation. If he wanted time alone with her, they would high tail it out of there, totally understandable. Niall was already calling the café to see if he could get her things at the very least.

“Please stay, of course,” he shrugged. “We’ve got forever.” Her expression seemed to melt a little at his words. He saw the way her thumb smoothed the skin over her ring finger.

Mitch and Sarah headed to the kitchen island and took their seats, they were a flurry of calls and messages to their other friends. They wanted to spread the good news and this is what friends did for someone like Harry. He didn't need to tell everyone, he had the love of his life in his arms. Niall was headed back out the door to get her things from the café. He’d be back in fifteen minutes.

Feeling more rested than he had in years, since he dreamed about the pair of eyes that finally matched someone that he knew to be his soulmate, he didn’t feel as broken. She smiled at him, gorgeously. He didn’t think he would ever tire of this new feeling of being whole. “Y’sure y’don’t mind having them?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I love them already.”

Harry knew it would be that way but somehow it was still way too good to be true. “We have all waited a very long time for you,” he reminded her. She wrinkled her nose cutely with a little impish grin. Harry placed his hands on her hips, pulling her toward him as if he had done this every morning for his whole life. “I’ve thought about you a thousand different ways and I don’t think any of them compare t’how you actually are,” he whispered.

She pressed the length of herself against him. Arms around his neck. His arms were like a vice around her waist. Harry’s sweatpants were too long on her, and the sweatshirt was scented with her new favorite smell. The love of her life. Her other half.

“Harry, I’m afraid I only have half a heart left to give you. I was really sad there for a very long time,” she admitted quietly; maybe it wasn't the time to tell him, but she needed to say it while it was on her mind. Sarah and Mitch were fielding messages, quiet giggles and words just over their shoulders while they waited for breakfast.

“Jus’ another thing we have in common,” he mumbled into her hair unfazed by her words. “We can share the whole one we make together.”

She sighed with relief and nuzzled her face into the soft shirt he wore. “You’re everything I wanted and more.”

What more could he say? “Me too, angel. Me too.”

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