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#please just give me the soulmate au i want
lani-heart · 2 days
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|| series masterlist || next // previously
parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, self-harm word count -> 1.9k
abstract -> "If you treat him like a monster, he’ll turn out to be one"
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y/n's perspective
“Why did you help, Jake?” I heard and I saw Jay behind me. How did he find out?
“What?” I asked in hopes of clarity. “Heeseung told me you helped Jake with a human potion… did he force–” “He didn’t… he begged to understand how to feel human so I gave a potion to K to give to him and– he asked for help to be human and that it” I said now panicked and he sighed
“He went off to tell Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki now,” he said and I sighed. “He asked me not to tell you guys… is… he okay?” I asked and he shook his head. 
“The potion is wearing off so he'll be better but he used his fire and burned his arms. They're treating him right now in our dorm so he doesn't get in trouble and neither do you” he said and I sighed. 
“I can help–” “Why are you asking to help? He hurt you,” he said and I smiled softly. “It's my magic, and besides he apologized and explained. He’s learning control… and he's also a neurotic vampire. It's why he's so hyper and why his emotions get the better of him” I said and only hugged me. 
“You’re too kind for your own good,” he said and I hugged him back. “I… really wanted to continue what I had with Sooha, but you still forgave that I was split,” he said and even tightened his grip.
“Just don’t let people exploit it,” he said and pulled away. I offered him a smile…
“Lets go help, he’s still your friend after all” 
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When I entered the dorm I could hear cries. 
“Ah! y/n!” I heard as I saw… Sooha. I’m glad he had her helping him. “Can you help, please he's in so much pain I don’t know what got to his head!” she pleaded and I nodded. 
I then freeze. 
“Uhm… Sooha, Jay can you leave the room?” I ask and they look at me confused. “I have to..” I trailed off while I brought a pinout. “Jake isn't good with control–” “I’ll be fine, I can take away his thirst while I'm here,” I said and he nodded and went outside the room I'm assuming only outside the door. 
“Go away” he cried while curling himself up in a ball. Sooha tried to bandage his arms. His shirt was off when I saw the burns even exceeded his shoulders. 
I pricked my finger letting the blood smear whilst his body shook. “I can’t do anything right,” he muttered. “Ja–” “Sooha just go away… please” he pleaded. He thought I was... 
“You don’t understand… What I did to those people hurt as much as what I felt, What I did to her was worse than what I feel” he cried out. 
“Jake,” I said and he turned his head slightly from the corner of the couch to see me. I felt my vision blur… just a bit. “Why… why are you here?” he asks and I sigh. 
“Well, I warned you not to use your powers,” I said and he only cried more. “I needed to know…  I-I’m sorry! I… why… why are you bleeding” he sat up when he saw my hand and shuffled away from me. 
“Jake, I'm gonna–” “No! Stay there,” he said when I tried getting closer. 
“I’m gonna do a spell… it’s gonna turn you back–” “I’ll hurt you again, just leave!” he yelled and I shook my head. “You won’t feel thirsty until I leave” I explained and he shook his head. 
“Jake. I forgive you, okay? So please trust me for now” I asked and he froze. I tried to get close when he started telling me the same thing. 
“Ah… Heeseung'' I said while looking at the door. Jake turned when I tackled him and got on top of him, catching him by surprise and doing my spell quickly. “You lied!” he said as I muttered my spell. He then winced when I saw his fangs were coming out. I cut my palm a bit to feed him my blood and did another spell so he wouldn’t turn me into a blood bag. 
“Are you crazy! I’m a vampire, I could kill you!” he yelled as he sat up again and gripped my shoulders. “But you don’t feel the bloodlust right?” I asked and he froze. “You’re insane… Why would you do that! And you lied about Heeseung there!” he whined, making me laugh. 
“But… Thank you for helping me. It doesn't help my emotions' ' he said, his pain is gone but not his guilt. “Jake, you can only do one thing to improve this, '' I said and he stared at me, eager to fix his mistakes.
“Live in fear to commit the same mistakes, Choose to live in bloodlust, or actually improve. To improve you need to accept being a vampire and your mistakes. You need to forgive yourself” I said and he couldn’t say a word. 
“What you did was stupid” I heard and this time it was Heeseung. “The blood spilled in your hand would have driven him–” “You need to give him more credit than that. If you treat him like a monster, he’ll turn out to be one” I said and he looked at me dumbfounded. 
“But it doesn’t mean he is. I get told how much of a freak I am by the humans… vampires, and hybrids because I use magic. It doesn’t make me one, though” I said and he stayed silent. 
“If you need help, my doors are open,” I said to Jake and I noticed a weird position. 
“Uhm! Sorry for this by the way” I said and ran for the door. 
“Blood!” I was now surrounded… this time by my mates and Sooha waiting outside the door. “Sooha, go inside,” Sunghoon said as he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her inside with him. “I… think I'm going too,” Niki said.
Left with three. “You’ve got a lot to explain,'' Sunoo said and I smiled nervously…
Where do I start?
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jake’s perspective
When she left, Heeseung said nothing. Instead of going to his room, I then noticed Sooha, Sunghoon, and Niki enter. She was still bleeding. 
“You did not drink her blood!” Sunghoon said and I shook my head. “No–” “You have her blood on your face!” Niki screeched and I shook my head. 
“She… I don't know! She did spells! She forced her blood into me!” I yelled defensively and they scoffed. They haven't marked her yet… let alone tasted her blood. 
“Just don’t do it again” Niki muttered as he left being a grumpy kid. 
“Jake, are you okay?” Sooha asks worriedly and I nod. “y/n… is too forgiving. She also helped me alot” I said and she smiled. “Maybe this will–” “Don’t mention this again Sooha” I said and she only offered a shy smile. 
“Are you okay, Hoon?” I ask, noticing his staring off like he usually does. “Mhhmm, Solon is… annoyed with you” he muttered as he didn’t stop staring at the floor. “Is it the blood?” I ask and he nods. “You do have her blood on your cheek,” Sooha said and I felt my eyes widen. 
“Uhm! I’m gonna go to my room!” 
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I cleaned my face while I was alone with my thoughts. 
Why’d she help me… defend me against Heeseung? After what I did? I would hate me, even wish the worst for me. Why was she so… kind? 
“You’re lucky, hyung!” I heard as I left my bathroom to see Jungwon and Sunoo. “Yah! Get off my bed! Your clothes are dirty–” “Why’d you wanna be human anyway?” Sunoo asked. 
The two used to be human… “I wanted to know how it felt,” I said and Jungwon sat up. “It's not fun,” he said and I nodded. “It isn't,” I agreed. “What you did to her wasn’t fair Jake. Just because she forgave you doesn't make it right” Jungwons scolded. 
“I know… I want better control. I need to get better” I said and he sighed. “That's a good first step,” Sunoo said and I nodded. 
“How come you two turned out so smart?” I asked them. And they chuckled, “Heeseung's sister says we must've been blessed with it,” Sunoo said.
“I swear you two seem to be her favorite, '' I said as I jumped on my bed in between the two. “Well… she’s not the best at hiding things. We know at some point we’ve met in another life,  but only Heeseung knows” Jungwon said and I chuckled. 
“Do you think in another life, we knew each other?” I asked them and they laughed. 
“Of course hyung!” 
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I know I wasn’t allowed here. 
I knocked on the door and hoped Wonyoung wasn’t there. 
“Hello,” she said as she opened the door. “Oh thank goodness! Wonyoung isn't here right?” I asked and she laughed. “No, you're lucky. Are you feeling better?” y/n asked and I nodded. 
“I wanted to ask if you wanted to join me for breakfast?” I asked and she smiled. “Why not?” she said as she went back in to get her bag. 
“Where's my mates?” she asked. “Asleep, Jungwon and Sunoo slept over in my room. Niki also joined so they are still asleep in my room. Heeseung is nowhere to be seen, Jay… I think in Home-Ec, and Sunghoon in his jealousy arc” I said and she laughed.
“What?” she said while laughing. 
“Your blood was on me… and well drinking your mate’s blood is an intimate thing,” I said and I noticed her cheeks redden. “Also I’m sorry about your hand,” I said while I saw her bandaged hand. 
“It's nothing I'm not used to,” she said and I smiled. 
“I wish we had time to get breakfast outside the campus but, it'd be impossible without skipping homeroom,” I said and she chuckled. “I don’t mind skipping,” she said, shocking me. 
“You're supposed to be the number one! The top student! President of Bright Sun student council, who are you!?” I said dramatically, making her laugh more. “I was gonna skip, I was just gonna use the excuse of stuco” she said and I stopped.
“Let's go then!” 
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We made it to the city where not many students were since class was gonna start. 
“Your mates are gonna freak out,” I said and she chuckled. “They skip more than me,” she said and I knew that was probably true. 
“Ooh! I need you to try this! It's a witch's place, but you can come in with me!” she said excitedly as we went into a breakfast place. 
“This just looks like human food,” I said while looking at the menu. “It has magic in it! It's really cool!” she said excitedly that it made me just stop and stare. 
“Jake? Are you okay?” she asked and I nodded. 
“I’m jealous that they get to have a chance with you,” I said but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. She smiled softly. “Well, you did reject me,” she said jokingly. 
“I know and I'm an idiot–” “Jake! Do you want to be my mate?” she asked, throwing me off guard. She giggled since I must've looked like an idiot. 
“Yes! I… I wanna be your mate” I said and she smiled. “Ah! I’ll even pay–" "I won’t argue,” she said and I laughed. 
“Thank you, y/n”
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allwaswell16 · 1 day
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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in April 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!
Fanfictional Podcast #61 |  ko-fi | fic recs
- Louis/Harry -
🌼 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo
(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.
🌼 Colorful Hearts by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics
(M, 20k, humor) In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. 
🌼 In a swirl of flashing lights by @lunaticcat009
(M, 15k, friends to lovers) Harry taps on Louis' window with a sad smile and they sneak into a closed carnival. A starry night of them running around the abandoned premises with their fingers intertwined ensues.
🌼 Fuck You For Ruining New York City For Me by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry
(T, 11k, exes) Louis broke up with him in their New York apartment, so Harry left the city for good. Except now he’s back, visiting with his new boyfriend.
🌼 defying stars by localopa / @voulezloux
(T, 9k, high school) the marching band au only one person (and that was me) asked for.
🌼 Half a World Away by @silverstuff50
(E, 9k, omegaverse) Bothy: A bothy is a basic shelter, usually left unlocked and available for anyone to use free of charge. Bothies are found in remote mountainous areas of Scotland, Northern England, Ulster and Wales. 
🌼 Where All Roads Lead by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings
(NR, 7k, neighbors) Harry's Christmas takes an unexpected turn when he discovers a misplaced holiday card in his letterbox. He never thought that braving the snow to return the card to its sender would be so worth his while.
🌼 Does it Ever Drive You Crazy? (Just How Fast the Night Changes) by xx_soup_xx
(G, 7k, strangers to lovers) Baker Harry Styles takes it upon himself to get his mysterious grumpy customer, Louis Tomlinson, to like Christmas by taking him on a disastrous first date.
🌼 Girl Crush by Hopeless_blue
(T, 7k, strangers to lovers) He used to be so close to fulfilling his dreams when he participated in X-Factor. But that was four years ago, and now, on a rainy day, he wanders the streets looking for a pub where he could sing sometimes. Charming bartender Louis is ready to give him a shot...
🌼 Why Don’t We Start Writing The Story Of Us by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa
(T, 6k, omegaverse) Alpha Louis and Omega Harry get off on the wrong foot, Louis has the worst timing, and Harry believes in second chances. Three times Louis asks Harry on a date and the one time Harry accepts
🌼 I Might Say Yes by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28
(E, 6k, established relationship) the one where Harry buys a wedding dress on a whim. And his very doting boyfriend, Louis, is more than happy to indulge him
🌼 now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie
(T, 5k, 5 times fic) Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest.
🌼 Crimson Clover by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt
(T, 5k, soulmates) Harry and Louis are soulmates, but one is already promised to another. When their plan to flee is discovered and they are separated, Harry falls gravely ill.
🌼 I’ll tell you something (I hope you’ll understand) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
(E, 2k, girl direction) Louis insists that Harry stay off her phone and in the safety of Louis' room rather than risk moping in her own texting her ex-boyfriend. When Harry agrees on one condition, Louis' safe night in could become something else entirely.
🌼 All The Way Home I'll Be Warm by @justanothershadeofblue
(T, 2k, friends to lovers) Harry & Louis jokingly send out holiday cards together as friends, and now everyone is congratulating them for finally getting together. A 5+1 fic, for Christmas.
🌼 beech tree in autumn by @juliusschmidt
(E, 1k, summer romance) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree.
🌼 hey stupid, i love you by @enchantedlandcoffee
(T, 1k, omegaverse) The one where self-proclaimed Valentine's Day hater, Louis, surprises his boyfriend on their first Valentine's together.
🌼 skinny dip (in water under the bridge) by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal
(G, 880 words, exes) It’s a Wednesday and nostalgia might just get the best of Louis.
- Rare Pairs -
🌼 Finally, You and I (Collide) by @lululawrence
(NR, 14k, Zayn/Louis) the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.
🌼 I Saw Several Angels in the Self Help Section by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup
(G, 3k, ot5) Zayn and Louis are soulmates. They're also missing some soulmates. For extra flavour, it's Christmas.
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joonsytip · 4 months
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Withering for You || Seungcheol- Part 4
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Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au
Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.
Warnings (specific to this part): drama, crying, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, everything is on rocks, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), mention of alcohol consumption, betrayal, italics represents occurrences in past
Word Count: 6.3k
TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!
Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue
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They say betrayal is worse than death if you taste it from someone you trust, someone you love. It's stingy, it's sickening, it's scathing.
You have always believed in soulmates, entitled Seungcheol to that word since you've known him, even wanted to make promises of eternity with him. But you should have seen the signs, should have never crossed the lines. Must not have tried to slip into the loopholes.
But you got blinded by greed, a hopeful stance of getting back together. Was it so wrong to wish a happily ever after with the one you have loved selflessly? Apparently it was.
"Sit.", you tell Seungcheol and the later obeys.
And as he does so his eyes fall on a very familiar document kept on the table. Instantly, he goes numb.
You observe him for a moment and play the recordings Jiah had given you. Midway, a panic stricken Seungcheol runs to you and pauses the recording.
He grabs your arms and says in desperation, "I didn't do all this Y/N. I admit I had planned all this because I wanted revenge but please trust me, it wasn't me."
"Unhand me.", you command him coldly, "Your touch disgusts me."
Seungcheol looks at you alarmingly before freeing your arms. He thinks of ways to convince you because in actuality, like he said he had planned it all but something out of scope happened. He fell in love with you again so long gone were all of those thoughts and schemes.
"What goes around, surely comes around.", you let out a chuckle, "Maybe that's why, I'm going through this. I get that you wanted to trample me upon. It's fair, to think about what you've been through because of me, I could have understood.", you look at him, "You could have handed me the divorce papers on our anniversary. Could have had other women and it would have wounded me. But-"
The tears pooling at the corner of your eyes are streaming down, "But how could you stoop so low? Knowing how much this academy matters to me, knowing what music means to me, you went out to attack my soul."
"No Y/N, I was a fool, please please", Seungcheol is crying as well, choking on his words, "It was wrong of me but I would never--"
"They are calling me a thief. Because of this incident those out there are questioning my whole career. The career, I've pursued after fighting the odds, after struggling for years. The one thing that is entirely mine.", your eyes turn darker as you say, "You could have rather killed me, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol gasps and shakes his head frantically.
"Even if I clear my name today, there will be people who'll still doubt my ability. Some out there would assume that I might be guilty and just because I belong to an influential family, I must have pushed everything under the rug with money.", you are hurting yourself with every word you utter at this point, clutching your chest, "My image is tainted, my career is ruined. They will never look at me the same way."
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry Y/N", he gets on his knees and clasps his hands, pleading, "I would do anything to clear your name. I'd do anything to win back your trust just give me one chance--"
You take his hands off you saying, "I have always loved you, Seungcheol. Back then, even now, I have chosen you. But none of that matters now. You have stabbed me in the back but I'll be one to pay the price. I thought you'd be different but these genes run in your family. I can't even blame Jiah. You Choi's are no different from her--", you halt.
"What do you mean?", Seungcheol asks confused.
"As I said none of that matters now. You are so petty that you acted out the whole thing. You don't love me and from today onwards I won't either.", you answer him, taking out the wedding ring from your dress pocket, "Here, I'm giving you what you wanted.", you take his hand and place the ring on his palm, "Congratulations! This marriage didn't get through it's first year. But I have a present for you. I have filed for divorce, the papers will be sent to you as soon as they're ready."
Seungcheol is at loss of words. He's unable to comprehend the situation. He wants to stop you but on what ground? The irreversible damage is already done.
"I have all of my belongings sent over.", you inform him, "And if you're planning to create a fuss about the divorce and what's gonna happen after the conference, head on. I won't be giving up like last time. I'll see through the end of it."
"It's happening again", he tells himself and sounds so broken when he speaks through his wavering voice, "Please don't leave me again."
"I had no choice, I was forced to leave you back then", you mutter under your breath, making it impossible for him to hear, "I was willing to stay this time but I have to leave, this time for my sake."
While you gather the rest of your belongings, Seungcheol stands there helpless. And as you walk out of the house, he watches you take away the life of his adobe with you.
Seungcheol numbly tunes in to watch the press conference. He sees you on the screen, out of his reach, out of his life. He listens to each word you say. How sad you look as you address the matter. Even though your legal team briefs the journalists, his eyes are glued to you. He observes how you don't explicitly mention him or the Choi enterprise but throw sublte hints to catch on.
But you make it obvious at the end of the conference by announcing your divorce to Seungcheol.
"I have filed for divorce against Choi Seungcheol and I would like to refrain you all from associating me with the Choi's in future."
Seungcheol is immediately thrown under the bus. People who were coining you as a thief are now praising you and busy portraying him as the villain.
But mopping won't do him any good. His mind reel backs to every word you have said before leaving. He needs to get answers to some questions. Most importantly, he has to get you back.
The next few days goes by Seungcheol handling the legal charges against him which are minor because he digs out enough evidence to prove that he wasn't involved in the slander and Jiah is the main culprit, adding exceptional charges to the list that would nearly ruin her and damage her company's reputation.
The Choi enterprise faces reputation loss as well which results in their stock plummeting and the board of directors complaining about the situation. But being humungous in business, the impact isn't uncontrollable and since Seungcheol is mentally exhausted his father lets him loose taking matters into his hands for the time being.
Everything is manageable or bearable except for the divorce papers which he has received on your first anniversary, that sits coldly on his office table.
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"The house I bought is an hour drive from here and I'm planning to stay there for some time, just to take my mind off of things." you say fishing out your car keys, "I have saved my new contact number to your phones."
"But are you sure you don't want us to be there with you?", your mother asks worriedly.
"At least let us help you shift--"
"Dad, I have lived alone before as well. Plus Chan and my friends are gonna help me with the unpacking.", you move over to hug both of your parents, "Visit me after it's done. Plus I'm planning to throw a cozy house warming house, not soon though."
"We're proud of you.", your mother says patting your head.
"I'm sorry for all the troubles and stress you've been through for the past year.", you mumble, quickly wiping your tears, "I'll be fine, no looking back promise."
"We have always trusted you, just take care of yourself and call us.", your father says kissing your forehead.
Chan waits for you by the car and he doesn't let you drive throughout the time it takes to reach your new house. As your friends help you settle into your new home, you are grateful to them for keeping you distracted and not bringing up Seungcheol.
"I'm sorry, Kwan. The academy had to face such an incident because of me.", you say hanging your head low in shame because you don't want anyone to see your tears, the can of beer in your hand remains unsipped, "I have decided to take some time off, please handle the academy and it's okay if you want me to backout. I'll transfer my shares to you."
Seungkwan blames the atmosphere for the tears in his eyes. He wipes them and sits beside you, "I couldn't have done it alone. The reason the academy exists is because we both had given it our all. So take all the time you want but you'll have to return."
You lean onto him and it's your brother who comes to wipe your tears.
"I'm so sorry Chan.", you speak through the tears, "I should have listened to you. I never thought that Seu--", you go quiet because it pains you to even say his name.
Everyone in room goes silent. It's not haunting rather comforting. But the successive ringing of the phones cause a mild commotion.
"Wonwoo keeps on calling us.", Eunsoo mutters, switching off her phone.
"Just tell him that I'm fine.", you tell her, "I'll give him a call later. I haven't visited Wonseok lately so I need to talk to him anyways."
It's amusing, how the night changes.
Seungcheol is distressed. He realises you are not the only one he has lost, he has lost Ms. Oh's empathy, he has also lost precious friend Wonwoo as well.
Wonwoo is back to his stoic self, the version he was when Seungcheol met him first. Only talks business with him, leaves as soon as he's done with assigned work. No more late night drinks, no more taking shots, none of the banter.
He watches you laugh as Wonwoo tells you something animatedly. He watches how your eyes are dull even though your lips are stretched.
Seungcheol had overheard Wonwoo talking to someone on the phone about his brother so he decides to visit him seperately just to check on him. He didn't expect to see you there, making him question since when you knew about Wonseok.
Your face falls when you're suddenly interrupted by Seungcheol's presence. He stands in front of you wordless, you don't bother to strike any conversation with him either.
"I'll get going, let me know if you need anything else.", you tell Wonwoo and turn around walk away.
"Y/N", Seungcheol says, "Can I please talk to you?"
You crane your neck to meet his gaze, "I don't think we have any business with each other. Do me a favour and just sign the divorce papers."
"I can't.", Seungcheol speaks out without missing a beat, "I need you Y/N, please give me a chance, let me make things right. I promise I won't let you down anymore."
"Enough with this act, don't assume you could fool me twice. I'm done with you.", you move around so now you're facing him again.
"You've changed your number.", he says meekly, "I don't get to see you anymore. That house haunts me, it's not the same without you."
You step in, closing the gap within you two, "You're facing the consequences of your actions. Stop acting like a fucking victim.", you spat out before walking out.
Wonwoo is torn. He doesn't want to take sides, it's even more difficult to see both of his dear friends grieving and suffering but there's nothing he could do.
"Wonseok is going through a series of surgeries because his condition had worsened and Y/N has been paying for them.", Wonwoo informs Seungcheol and before he could ask, Wonwoo adds, "You're already paying me more than I should be so I didn't want to burden you more. She had accidentally found out about Wonseok one day and decided to help me out even though I wasn't ready to accept it. She was determined and I couldn't stop her."
Seungcheol isn't surprised rather he is confused. This version of yours is what he was habituated to when you were dating until you convinced him it wasn't on the day you broke up. Something isn't adding up. Something about your nature and the way you act to what you had said that day are contradicting. You aren't mean-hearted, you are a giver so why did you years ago do something so bizarre, the thought is unsettling.
"She has been taking some time off from the academy, no one knows when she'll be back. She is so affected by the incident that she was ready to give up on the academy. The one she had built from scratch with her blood, sweat and tears." Wonwoo speaks disappointedly, "Do you realise what you have done?"
Seungcheol is ashamed, there's an unhealing pain in his heart thinking about you, about how he should be the one aiding you in your tough time but he can't because he's the reason you're in agony.
"As you know, I had also hated Y/N for what she had done. And now that you see me being friends with her is not because she's paying for Wonseok.", Wonwoo halts and takes a breath, choosing his words carefully, "It goes far beyond that. You have always been heedful, I think it's time for you to be vigilant as well. The truth might be far from what you've believed it to be."
Wonwoo doesn't spare another second on his watch as he walks away ignoring the desperate calls of his name.
Seungcheol's mind is not in place anymore.
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Your thoughts are everywhere. Peace and happiness are some of the things you haven't gotten to feel lately. Though you've decided to spend time alone at home, the loneliness is caving you in.
Maybe tonight you're feeling a little more lonely than usual. Maybe you shouldn't miss the person who had pushed you to the edge of the cliff. Maybe you shouldn't be good with dates. Maybe you shouldn't trace your thumb on the calendar reminiscing about the day, you both had made it official years ago.
The damned tears aren't stopping, your heart isn't healing.
The bell rings and you are surprised because no one is supposed to visit you today. Quickly wiping your eyes and cheeks you don't bother to check the monitor and open the door.
At the other side of the threshold stands Seungcheol. Your red eyes gape at him as he looks at you shivering from driving all the way here in the snow.
"What are you doing here?"
You know getting your new address and number wouldn't be a big deal to Seungcheol given his network runs deeper.
"Can you let me in atleast, I'm freezing."
You cross over your arms and step aside. He saunters in and wanders off to have a tour of the house. He stops when he senses the glare you're sending him.
"If you realise that this house too plain for your taste you can always contact me. We're best in the business.", Seungcheol says as his lips purse in a line.
"I wonder from where did you get the audacity to come here?", you ask plainly.
"Just wanted to see you", he admits, "I miss you, Y/N."
You scoff at his words.
"Also, there's something you left behind, I found it while going through the drawers.", Seungcheol fishes out a notebook from his inner coat pocket.
You immediately recognise the object, raising your hand flat for him to handover it to you.
"I instantly got reminded of you always carrying it and scribbled down if anything came to your mind. Seems like you had kept this notebook from prior to university days.", he hands over the notebook and touches your hand gently in the process.
His touch turns to strong grip and he doesn't let go.
"Thanks.", you say trying to free your hand, "You should leave now."
The wedding ring on his finger feels cold on your skin.
"I know you remember what day it is today.", he says pulling you closer so that now you're colliding into him, your faces an inch apart. Your eyes are wide and the notebook falls as you're grabbing onto his shoulder out of reflex.
He has an undeniable look of longing in his eyes. You should just push him away, even kick him out but you find yourself frozen.
"I still remember falling in love with you, every moment of it.", he whispers, his gaze switching between your eyes and lips.
"So I do, Cheol.", his nickname slips out of your mouth so casually, there's a pause before you speak, "Why did you have to ruin it all?"
"I regret it all.", he gently holds your face, "But I realised that I never stopped loving you otherwise why would I despise you if I hadn't been in love in the first place."
"You could have broken my heart but you went after my soul."
"You did the same to me years ago. You took my soul away and I became just a shell.", he isn't complaining, just letting you know how difficult it was for him as well, "I planned everything to get back to you but what wasn't planned was my feelings resurfacing, falling in love with you all over again. I had forgotten all the schemes, had forgotten the reason why I hated you in the first place."
When he rests his forehead against yours, you close your eyes basking in the moment. What he did was definitely beyond any excuse but Seungcheol isn't entirely at fault. The fact that he was ready to start again with you after how you had treated him years ago proves the truth behind his words. The difference is you were forced to act out but he wasn't. He chose to destroy you.
So your eyes snap open and you're pushing him away.
"Leave Seungcheol.", you step away, "And never come back again."
Seungcheol sighs, "What should I do for you take me back? If you want I would never show myself in the vicinity of the academy. I wouldn't even ask you anything remotely related to your works or the academy. I'll stay all out of it, I promise."
"Nothing you do would make me go back to you.", your words taste bitter in your mouth, "We are not meant to be, we're not good for each other."
That is basically you firmly rejecting him, letting him aware that he has axed the mended fence.
Seungcheol smiles sadly, "Only if I could show you my heart and mind."
He then leaves with a heavy heart.
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The next few days goes by Seungcheol racking his thoughts to make up his mind. Every time he thinks about you wanting to desperately cut ties with him, he relents. He laments on himself for what he has caused. At nights when he deliberately stays late, he mentally prepares himself to sign those papers because that's the only way to atone for his sins.
But those divorce papers get through every night without getting signed. Because when Seungcheol thinks he's ready that's when the realisation gnaws on him that he's actually not, that he'll never be.
And it gets harder each time he tries.
So one night, he lets his intrusive thoughts get the best of him and he ends up calling you.
"I'm trying but I can't bring myself to sign those papers", he speaks into the phone clutching it hard followed by a shaky breath, "I really want to give you what you want but whenever I think about not having you in my life, my willingness deters."
You stay quiet.
"Sorry to disturb you. Don't know what I was thinking. Please take care of yourself, bye.", he hangs up and collapses back on the chair.
Wonwoo watches through the blinds and he isn't new to this. Years ago Seungcheol had gone into a spiral, had almost given up on living post the breakup and now it hurts Wonwoo to see the history repeating itself.
So this time he promises to intervene for both of your sake, specially Seungcheol.
He has two things on his to-do list and though he isn't sure what the outcome will be, he's going to do them. He gathers everyone and let's them know of his plan.
"Mingyu, Eunsoo, Seungkwan", his gaze sweeps on the three, "You're gonna go and convince Y/N."
"I'll go to uncle and aunt.", Wonwoo says.
Eunsoo looks at him questionably, "We get our part. But are you sure your friend's gonna be okay?"
"Most importantly, I'm not sure how this will end because both of them are unpredictable as fuck.", Mingyu adds.
Seungkwan who was silent the whole time, speaks, "Guys, let's go for it. We will handle the aftermath.", he looks at Wonwoo, "You'll have to take care of Seungcheol because he's gonna hurt the most."
"It's better to be over it, Seungcheol deserves to know."
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"What's wrong with you guys?", You ask absolutely astonished. All of your friends have suddenly busted into your house and are now advocating you on something that is supposed to be out of their box.
"Why are you suddenly siding with Seungcheol?", you say with a frown, "I'm feeling betrayed. I'm gonna call Chan now."
Eunsoo and Mingyu break into cold sweat knowing how scary your brother can be. Seungkwan sighs looking at the other two and gets that he has no other way but to sort down to what he's best at. He says, "Y/N, do you think we'd ever think ill of you? Do you think we'd be at your door because suddenly we felt emphatic towards Seungcheol? That's how lowly you think of us?"
The look on Mingyu and Eunsoo's faces are absolute comedic. They didn't expect Seungkwan would pull out his trump card.
Your gaze is unwavering when you say, "This won't work on me you know right?"
Seungkwan smiles, "Of course I know but we also know that you love Seungcheol and won't be happy without him. So we're saying all this just for your sake, not his, not anyone else's."
"You're wr-"
"You had 7 years but you couldn't get over him, even accepted his family just to marry him.", Seungkwan continues, "You had come across so many good men all these years but no one piqued your interest because you only had Seungcheol in your heart."
"Y/N, I did believe him when he said he fell in love again. I had seen the way he looked at you, the way he was protective around you. The way his eyes were always on you, radiating love. It may have started as an act but at some point it became real.", Eunsoo smiles at you, "He loves you."
"But Soo--"
"If you really loathed him, you wouldn't have waited for him to sign those divorce papers, you would have upsurged everything. You have the power to ruin the Chois wholly but you're just buying yourself some time.", Mingyi adds and immediately shifts to hug you, "What Seungcheol did was incredibly wrong, wait he didn't even do it. It was Jiah."
"Are you not getting Jiah did all just to separate you both again?", Seungkwan ask and you look at him wide eyed.
"She had done the exact thing years back and was successful. Please don't let her win again. If she can't have Seungcheol, she has planned all this for you to not have him as well.", Eunsoo voices out her concerns, "Don't let all these heartbreaks, tears and sacrifices go in vain just because of some misunderstandings. Don't do something you'd regret because you didn't mend it when you had a chance."
Your heart sinks at their words.
"Take your time but choose what you think is the best for you.", Eunsoo rubs your back gently, "Rationality shouldn't always take the stance, sometimes hearts should be listened to."
You take a deep breath and say, "Fine guys, I'll think about it."
The smile on their faces are unmatchable.
Seungcheol is worried when he receives a call from his mother asking him to urgently come to their house. Wonwoo is already waiting by the car and though Seungcheol asks if he knows anything he stays tight lipped throughout the ride.
"I'll be waiting for you right here. Call me if you need me.", Wonwoo says with an intone and for some reason it doesn't resonate well with Seungcheol.
He is led into his father's study where he sees both of his parents waiting. They are heartbroken seeing their only son. Seungcheol has lost weight, accumulated bags under red eyes, appearance unkempt.
"Take a seat.", his father says, "I have something to tell you and it's regarding Y/N."
Seungcheol immediately perks up at your mention. An eerie silence falls upon the room. Seungcheol's anxious gaze searches for his parents'.
"Y/N was forced to break up with you years ago. I had made her do so.", his father admits.
Seungcheol freezes. He thinks he's hearing things that are not supposed to make any sense.
"Ever since I had started the business I had been diligent to it. Dedication and honesty does account for success but so also being money minded and cunning. As years went by that consistency and success made me cling to riches, fame and status that came along with it.", his father says as he takes a seat gesturing him to do the same. "You must be remembering that we were facing financial crisis because one of our major investor had withdrawn. It had affected us greatly."
Seungcheol nods, "We were on the verge of facing bankruptcy."
"Since Jiah's father runs a finance company, we had made small sort of deals previously but that time the amount required was large and no one was willing to help us not even her father. But later Jiah came to me and offered me a deal."
"W-What deal?"
"That she would convince her father to provide us support only if", there's an ominous pause before Mr. Choi looks at him and says, "I remove Y/N out of your life."
A tear falls from his eye, as he hears the tale of betrayal from none other but his father.
"I have never liked Y/N, the reason was basic, she didn't belong to our circle. Initially I thought she was just a fling but so I agreed with Jiah."
Seungcheol is numb at this point, he just sorts to listening.
"One day I had brought in Y/N to let her know that she needs to find her way out of your life.", Mr. Choi's gaze falls, "She instantly refused. No matter what I said she wasn't willing to leave you. One meeting turned to two, two turned to three but she was hellbent on not letting you go."
"With Jiah constantly pressurizing me, threatening to nullify the deal if not taken action soon, I became desperate.", he confesses, "So I resorted to one thing I should have never done. I can never forgive myself for that."
You say in utter disbelief, "Why don't you tell your son to breakup with me instead? Stop pestering me, you know we both love each other and Mr. Choi let me make this clear, this is the last time I'm meeting you."
Mr. Choi gives you a sickening smile. He casually says, "Your brother is currently studying in Australia, if I'm not wrong."
You pale instantly, "W-What about him?"
"You're right, this is gonna be our last meeting. If you don't breakup with my son, I'm not sure what I'll do with your brother. What if you don't get to see your dear little brother anymore?"
"Mr. Choi, you can't do this. Please--"
"I'm not here to negotiate. I think you're smart enough to make the right choice. So tell me Y/N, what did you decide?"
You are crying and begging but there's no mercy reserved to spare for you. How are you supposed to choose between your brother and the love of your life? You will have to so you choose what's best for all, you choose both.
"Fine, I'll breakup with Seungcheol. So stay away from my brother."
Mr. Choi smiles in mirth, "You made the right descision. Rest assured."
With job being done, he is walking out of the hall when your call of his name reaches his ears.
He turns with an incredulous look on his face as he waits for you to speak.
"Promise me that you'll never tell Seungcheol about this incident.", comes your strained voice.
"I wasn't planning to anyways.", Mr. Choi says, "Even better for me, I promise to not tell Seungcheol about any of this."
Seungcheol runs to his father with the intention of doing something unspeakable but he stops right in front of him and collapses on the ground.
"How could you do this?", he sobs uncontrollably, "How could you stoop so low?", he balls his hands into fists and channels the anger on the floor, hitting it again and again that's when his mother steps in to stop him.
He looks at her and say, "How could you not tell me? How could you tolerate your husband even after knowing all this?", he then swats her away.
Getting up, he's gasping for air, unable to comprehend with the pain in his chest and head. Restlessness engulfs him but he doesn't let both of his parents to even touch him.
"I'm ashamed to call you both my parents.", he spats out, "I'll never forgive for ruining our lives. I hope all of this was worth it."
Then he's running out of the house ignoring the calls of his name. Wonwoo is immediately grabbing his friend, making him sit and drink water.
"You also knew but didn't tell me?", Seungcheol asks as fresh tears stream down his face.
"I only came to know recently and Cheol even if I had known, it's not my story to tell.", Wonwoo answers.
It takes Seungcheol over an hour to calm down.
"You don't need to attend me, I'm fine.", Seungcheol says stoicly, "You can go, I have somethings to take care of."
Though Wonwoo refutes but Seungcheol is adamant, leaving no choice for him but to obey his boss.
As soon as Wonwoo gets out of the car, Seungcheol drives off.
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You are extremely tired, mentally and today for some reasons are you feel thinned out physically as well.
Staring at the cello, ominous thoughts fill in your mind. Because no matter how hard you try, you are unable to produce anything. There are no notes or no tunes, it's all blank.
And you're scared, what if music doesn't choose you anymore? What if you can't produce anything for the rest of your life? All these possibilities scares you enough to spend sleepless nights. It has disturbed your appetite as well.
Tossing and turning, as you've been doing for nights with minimal sleep at dawn hours, you sit up startled when the doorbell rings.
All the exhaustion is now replaced with concern when you see Seungcheol who continuously weeps at the door.
"What happened? Are you okay?"
Just a shake of head and he keeps on crying.
It's been about twenty minutes since he arrived crying and you're seriously considering about calling Wonwoo.
The way he's visibly hurting, hurts you too and you resort to hug him, patting his back, "If you're hurting because of me, please don't.", you say softly, tears pricking at your eyes subconsciously.
Seungcheol pulls away, looking at you. His sobs stop and the first thing he does is hold your face and kiss you. You're surprised, his lips graze yours but you don't kiss him back. Your hands push his chest and he's detaching himself mumbling a string of apologies.
"It was all for nothing.", he sounds so heartbroken when he speaks, "All those years spent in pain, hatred and resentment towards you, you didn't deserve any of it."
You have an inkling and it doesn't settle well in your bones, "Whatever you're saying is making no sense. Why are you here?"
Seungcheol looks dead in your eyes, "Because I know now. I know what happened all those years ago."
Your soul leaves your body at his words. You never wanted him to find out because you knew it'd tear him apart.
"W-Who told you?"
"Does it matter?"
And your very first instinct is to grab your phone and make a call to his father but Seungcheol doesn't let you. The phone gets snatched from your hands and thrown away somewhere.
"Why did you do it?", he asks and his questions irks you.
You scoff, "Are you seriously asking me why I did it after knowing everything? Seungcheol, I was threatened with my brother's life, what did you expect me to do?"
Seungcheol shakes his head, "No that Y/N. Why did you make dad promise you about not telling me about this?"
"What could I have done Seungcheol?", your voice cracks, "I loved you so much and trust me, I tried everything I could to be with you, to not hurt you but-- it killed me to lie to you. I went through hell and back trying to stop myself from telling you 'no I'm lying, please don't leave, I love you as much as you do'.
"That day I took your heart away.", You exhale sharply, "I didn't want to crush your soul as well, didn't want to make it anymore difficult for you then it already was. I knew how much you looked upto your father, how much you cherished your parents. I didn't want you to fight your family", your heart twinges as you continue, "Though it wasn't possible for me to love again, I prayed that you would move on, meet someone who'd make you forget all the sorrows I gave you. I wished for you to fall in love again and live happily."
You chuckled through your tears, "Won't lie, it would have hurt me but if it assured your happiness I'd have hurt myself all over again, all of the times."
Seungcheol observes you quietly, he absorbs your words to his heart.
"What does that make me, Y/N?", he asks defeated.
"You weren't at fault, Cheol. I chose what it seemed the best for all of us."
"I hated you, married you and plotted revenge. Hurt you and now indirectly lead to something that almost ruined your career.", he speaks as if he's narrating a monologue, "I kept wounding the wounded and siding with the foes."
"Stop blaming yourself. What you did was indeed wrong, you should have never attempted take a blow at my career. But years ago, even after all that you were ready to start again.", you remind him.
Seungcheol completely shuts himself out.
"Till yesterday, I was in a dilemma. They say if you love someone you should let them go. Call me selfish but I couldn't even think of parting ways with you. I wanted to fight for us. I'd have courted you until you got bored of me. I would have waited for a lifetime, even if you'd have moved on.", he avoids eye contact so that his resolution doesn't deter, "But how could I tie you to the people who tried to harm you, harm your family?"
"I won't beg for forgiveness anymore. Honestly, I don't want you to forgive us. If you're having second thoughts about us, discard them. Please just discard me.", he voices out in desperation, "Be selfish and choose yourself this one time."
He takes out a paper from his coat pocket which you recognise very well.
"Till yesterday signing these papers seemed impossible for me but it's surprising, how events turned out to be.", he takes your hand and places the paper saying, "I have signed them. This time I chose what's best for you."
There's a sickening churn in your stomach that makes you realise that there's nothing you can do.
"I love you, Y/N."
The weight of those words fall heavy on you as Seungcheol closes in.
"For one last time, please.", he says holding your face.
You incline towards him and instantly his lips are on yours. One of his hands now settle on your neck firmly as your lips dance on featherly. His other hand is gripping your waist to hold you in place. The saltiness of his tears burn on your tongue, making you suck in a gasp. His kisses you till his heart's content because it's a kiss of goodbye before resting his forehead on yours.
"Don't go", your strained voice whispers, "Please don't go."
Seungcheol whispers back, "I have to. Please don't stop me, I'm not strong enough to refuse you."
The tears stream down your face, "Would nothing I do be enough to stop you?"
"Y/N, please", he pleads, "You were right when you said we're not meant to be because I have only hurt you. I don't deserve you."
"Cheol..."
He steps back and you're suddenly engulfed by coldness.
"The chapter named Choi Seungcheol in your life ends right now.", he balls his hands, grits his teeth, does everything to not let those tears spill, "Since you might not submit the divorce papers, I have already handed over a copy to your attorney."
He turns back, rubbing his chest, the pain is unbearable.
"Cheol, please..."
"It's snowing so don't follow me outside, you'll catch a cold. Goodbye Y/N."
Then he leaves, from your house, apparently from your life.
And you realised not all stories have a happy ending, there's not always a happily ever after.
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miraclewoozi · 3 months
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DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs
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the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it. 
pairing ; vernon x gn!reader.  content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3
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“What was your first kiss like?”
Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song. 
All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong. 
But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.
“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”
You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”
“Oh.” 
He was right. 
“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”
He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all. 
“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”
You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say. 
“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position. 
“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air. 
You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”
He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done. 
Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal. 
Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present. 
“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”
You snort. 
“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you. 
He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?
“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember. 
You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”
“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.  
He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter. 
You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again. 
He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary. 
The urge to just… lean in to you. 
It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—
Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—
“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees. 
True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.
But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?
“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again. 
“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.
“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”
“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”
He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly. 
Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.
“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop. 
It’s… devastatingly cute.
“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.
“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”
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It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday. 
He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare. 
Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once. 
He swears. 
“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”
Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)
“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”
His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure. 
“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting. 
“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway. 
You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t. 
Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.
And yet—
“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances. 
Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.
You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise. 
When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that. 
His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come. 
Eight seconds later… still nothing. 
“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”
“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”
It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light. 
“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”
It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”
“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”
You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug. 
His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again. 
You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?” 
“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”
“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue. 
“That was one time!”
“One time too many.”
“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“
You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before. 
He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.
“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”
“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”
He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip. 
“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter. 
“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”
You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh. 
Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair. 
He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop. 
Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders. 
Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help. 
“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place. 
“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”
When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head. 
“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…
He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”
“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?
He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in. 
I love them. Thank you, you said. 
It’s perfect. 
He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.
“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”
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Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double. 
He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.
“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.
“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead. 
“I don’t know-…”
“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”
Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”
Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.
Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue. 
On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.
“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”
Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose. 
“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.
But… It's too late. 
Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to. 
And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are. 
Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob. 
Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum. 
But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him. 
Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen. 
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It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door. 
Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important. 
You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.
When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair. 
You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath. 
“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright. 
“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”
“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”
He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened. 
“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head. 
His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop. 
“He what?”
Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together. 
He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said. 
I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)
So… you were in love. 
With someone who wasn’t him. 
He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt.  And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.
Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.
“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”
You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”
Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before. 
“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”
Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.
“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”
Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?
He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder. 
“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”
You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”
You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it. 
“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”
He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush. 
“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head. 
“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth. 
It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you. 
He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too. 
“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”
With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure. 
“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together. 
Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try. 
But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could. 
“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down. 
He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better. 
When you bumped your head in the playground, the same. 
He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved. 
And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person. 
“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”
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He’s so proud of you.
Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say. 
[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]
Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here. 
He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no. 
[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]
[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]
So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.
With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline. 
Not enough, but some. 
With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin. 
7. 6. 5.
The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky. 
Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?
4. 3.
Maybe I don’t need to see in colour. 
2.
For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough. 
1.
Happy New Year. 
As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes. 
For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you. 
You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”
“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow… 
Like you’re searching for something that might not be there. 
He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you. 
You could do it, his brain tells him. 
So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter? 
But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside. 
One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.
He’s happy, though. It’s like you said. 
Being in love is enough.
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“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in. 
He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”
In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule. 
His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all. 
But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday. 
To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you. 
You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change. 
This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. 
The pouting continued. 
Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table. 
All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right? 
He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling. 
“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together. 
“This way.”
You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features. 
“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”
You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road. 
“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.
“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess, 
He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks. 
You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer. 
“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”
“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks. 
“Close your eyes.”
You know.
Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick. 
“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.
“You really think so?”
“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”
Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?
He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone. 
“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.
“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”
“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”
Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.
It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own. 
He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block. 
Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…
“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths. 
“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.
One. 
You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…
There it all is, when you finally pull away.
Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too. 
“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”
A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again. 
“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”
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thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3
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Honey Girl. Chapter Five.
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Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.7k
Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.
Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.
A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.
It's been three months since you left home.
It's been three months since you saw Bucky.
He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.
He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.
You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.
The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.
Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.
And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.
On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.
You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"This is ridiculous."
Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.
"Good ridiculous?"
She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.
"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."
Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.
"I need these on the menu."
"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."
"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."
"Okay. Fine."
You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.
You know it's because of your Tethering.
Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.
And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.
Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.
It takes time to adjust.
No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.
For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.
For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.
Both are valid. Both are understandable.
You remind yourself of this every day.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."
The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.
"Who is it?"
"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."
Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?
You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.
You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.
He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.
"Hi."
"Hey. Are you the baker here?"
"I am."
He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.
"I'm Rafael."
You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.
"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."
You don't say anything, so he continues.
"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."
He takes a deep breath before continuing.
"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."
You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.
"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."
You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.
You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.
"You're really talented, you know."
"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."
His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.
"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."
"You'd do that for her?"
"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."
"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."
He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.
"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."
He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.
"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."
You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.
"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."
The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,
"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."
His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."
"You guys are married?"
"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."
"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"
You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.
"He's my Dad's best friend."
You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.
"Woah."
"Yeah."
"That... is complicated."
"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."
Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.
"How did your parents react?"
"They don't know yet."
His eyebrows raise almost comically high.
"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."
"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."
"Understatement of the century," he laughs.
You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.
"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."
"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."
He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.
"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."
"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"
"Sure does."
You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.
"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."
"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."
"Thanks, Rafael."
"Of course. Thank you."
"Of course."
That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."
"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."
"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"
"What kind of surprise?"
"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."
"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."
"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."
"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."
"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."
"I know," you smile. "I know."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.
You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.
You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.
You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.
You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.
You know who it is.
A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.
You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.
He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.
He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.
He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.
"You're here."
You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.
"I'm here."
Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.
"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."
He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.
"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.
"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."
"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."
"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."
"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"
He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.
"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."
You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.
"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.
"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."
"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."
"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."
"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."
"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.
"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."
"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.
He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.
"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."
"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."
"Miss you more."
He looks at you, smiling.
"Man, we're the worst."
"Truly."
He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.
It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.
There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.
"Surprise!"
You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.
"Oh my God! You guys!"
She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.
He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.
"I got you something. I hope you like it."
That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.
"Happy Birthday, Mama."
She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.
She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.
"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."
"Missed you. You look beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."
You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.
"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."
You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.
You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The night goes off without a hitch.
You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.
What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.
When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.
"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"
His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.
"I have to."
"Oh yeah?"
"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."
He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.
"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."
"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."
His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.
"One dance," you whisper.
He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.
I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.
Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"That was close!"
Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.
"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."
"Mama, are you sure?"
"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."
"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."
She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.
"Love you both."
"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"
"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"
You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.
"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."
You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.
"It's not the same here without you."
You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.
You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.
"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"
He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.
"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."
"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."
"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."
"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."
He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.
"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."
He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.
"Okay. I promise."
You whip your head around to look at him.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."
"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"
"I know. I feel it."
You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.
"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.
"I have. What for?"
"The couch."
You process for a moment before it clicks.
"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."
"No?"
"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."
He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.
You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."
You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.
"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."
Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.
"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."
You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.
Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.
"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"
You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.
"Please, Buck. Anything."
"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."
He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.
"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Yeah?"
"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."
Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.
"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.
You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.
Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.
You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.
He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.
"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."
You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.
He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.
"You good?"
"So good," you grin. "Never better."
"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.
"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."
"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."
You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.
Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.
You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.
"Buck, I-"
"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."
"Need you to move, baby."
He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.
"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."
Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.
He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.
"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."
The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.
Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.
He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.
"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.
"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.
Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.
"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."
You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.
"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.
The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.
Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.
Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.
"I don't want you to go."
The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.
"I don't think I want to go."
He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.
"You have to, baby. It's your dream."
Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.
"You're my dream."
Bucky sniffles, and you continue.
"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."
You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.
"We'll be okay, my honey girl."
You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.
"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.
You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.
You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.
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tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff   @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
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midnightwriter21 · 7 months
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jjk hcs: satoru gojo meeting soulmate!reader
characters: satoru gojo x reader, mentions of megumi, yuji, nobara, and principal yaga
warnings: language, mentions of a giant spider
AN: AS PROMISED!!! the soulmate gojo fic!! i’m a sucker for non-sorcerer!reader x gojo. so if u want a version with a sorcerer reader lmk!!!
edit: sorcerer!reader version is published!! read it HERE
- soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed in their handwriting somewhere on your body!!!
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SATORU GOJO
you’re working at a small, family-run cafe
which just so happens to be quite close to jujitsu high school
it’s quite often that students and staff from the school are stopping at the cafe for a quick snack, coffee, and sometimes lunch
and due to an unfortunate run in with a low grade curse during a rush, you are very aware of the jujutsu world
principal yaga himself exorcised the curse when he was on his lunch break at the cafe
usually you’re working in the kitchen, baking, whilst someone else takes orders
until a coworker of yours calls in sick at the last minute… so ur on ur own rip
taking orders, cooking, serving, all of the above on your own
the 3 first year jujutsu high students, megumi, yuji, and nobara come into the cafe after a mission
they place their orders and megumi tells you that their sensei would be joining them shortly, with yuji letting you know that their sensei would also be picking up the bill
as if it would even put a dent in gojo’s wallet
anyways after taking their orders you walk into the kitchen to begin making their food and drinks
as you get to work, gojo walks into the cafe, joining his students at their table
you’re rushing around the kitchen, flour stuck to the font of your shirt, hair sticking out in different directions
trying to get the food cooked and out to them in a timely manner
and the world is just not on your side today because guess what shows up in your kitchen…
a cursed spirit
but not any cursed spirit
a cursed spirit in the form of a spider
a GIANT spider with what seems like a million eyes, the 8 legs, kinda furry looking
oh and did i mention it was giant? by giant I mean it stood at abt 6ft tall
two words: hell. nah.
when you turn away from the stove and find it standing behind you
you, like any normal person, let out an eardrum shattering screech of terror and back away from it as fast as possible
backing yourself into the corner of the room, with no room to escape…
the 3 first years and their sensei hear your scream and spring into action, running into the kitchen to defend you
that’s a lie
the 3 first years run to defend you
their sensei takes his time, sauntering towards the kitchen with his hands in his pockets
bastard
the kitchen door slams open as the 3 first years spring through the door, with yuji pouncing on the curse
the pink haired boy delivers a heavy punch, knocking the spider curse away from you
you take the chance to run
yeah girl it’s better to give them their space fr, yuji has a habit of punching through walls with his bare hands
you run through the door, looking behind you towards the scene, and you run head first into what feels like a brick wall
before you fall onto your ass, you feel two large hands latch onto your shoulders to steady you
“woah! don’t go falling for me already.. we just met.”
you look up at the voice, finding a man with stark white hair, a blindfold, and a cocky smirk
adrenaline coursing through your body you don’t even process the man’s words and you find yourself babbling almost unintelligibly to the man
“kill it! please kill it! i can’t stand spiders!”
the mans grip on your shoulders tighten slightly before he releases you, pushing you behind him, chuckling quietly with a “anything for you, sweetheart”
and with the flick of his wrist the spider curse literally explodes
staring at the tall man in both shock and awe, you don’t realize until you smell smoke
“THE FOOD IS BURNING SHIT!” and your running back into the kitchen to see if anything is salvageable
it’s not lol but honestly the food is the last thing on anyone’s mind
as you throw the ruined food away, the same hands from earlier sit themselves on your shoulders again, turning you around
“so… if i’m gonna actually get you to fall for me, i’m gonna need your number.” and there’s a phone thrust in your face
and at his words you remember his earlier statement to you, “woah! don’t go falling for me already.. we just met.”
you look up at him in shock, putting a hand on your forearm, over your soulmate mark with those exact words covering your skin
and he just smirks and pulls the sleeve of his uniform up to show you his own forearm
and printed in your own handwriting is your terror filled words from earlier, “kill it! please kill it! i can’t stand spiders!”
as the blush crawls up your neck and into your cheeks he laughs, throwing an arm around your shoulders and saying, “so.. does this mean I get free sweets from now on?”
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alyakthedorklord · 10 months
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Dead on Main Soulmate AU
First words your soulmate says to you are written on your skin. Jason didn’t understand his for a long time- it looks like an insult, but he has absolutely no idea what it means, both before and after his death.
Eventually, it starts to make a slight bit more sense as Trendy Lingo advanced, and he hears Steph and Tim and some other teens using something similar. Still, he doesn’t understand why they’re said, and so Jason is completely unprepared for when he’s approached randomly by some guy while walking down the street after a particularly violent pit rage.
“Sir, your vibes are rancid.”
Jason freezes. The pit writhes in offense, because what the fuck, but at the same time his heart is beating out of his chest, because what the fuck?
“Oh ancients that sounded rude.” The guy says, eyes widening like he can’t believe he said that. “I mean- I just- are you okay? You don’t feel okay. You feel really, really sick, like your soul got marinated in corrupted ecto, and do you want help?”
Jason keeps staring. The guy is cute, dark hair and blue eyes that seem just a bit too bright to be human, freckles disappearing behind an embarrassed flush.
“I don’t want to overstep, because you’re giving off a whole lot of “fuck off don’t talk to me”, but I didn’t wanna just ignore you because I’m pretty sure a lot of the anger and bad vibes are coming from the corrupted stuff and I’m pretty sure I can help with that? If you don’t want help just tell me to fuck off or punch me in the face and I’ll leave but-”
The stranger takes a nervous step away, and Jason lunges forwards before he can think, everything in him rebelling at the thought of his soulmate leaving, from his own thoughts to the pits themselves.
“Please don’t leave.” He gasps, hands squeezed tight to his soulmates arm despite the twinge of pain from his bloodied knuckles. His soulmate’s eyes widen in shock, mouth dropped open, before he breaks into a bright, amazed grin.
“I won’t, I promise.” His soulmate says, reaching up to hold onto Jason’s arms in turn. His touch is cold, even through Jason’s jacket. “I’m staying right here.”
Jason leans into the touch, sagging with relief. He can feel the pits receding, the anger and pain and fear fading as his soulmate gently runs his hand over his back.
He feels, for the first time in a long time, at peace.
“…seriously though, wtf happened to you, you reek of bad death juice.”
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rageserenity · 1 month
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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love-belle · 11 months
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you're my best friend !!!
ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she just loves her best friend, who happens to be her boyfriend's best friend's girlfriend.
or
for when it's everything you have ever wanted in your life.˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - i love this so much, i hope you like it!! hopefully a carlos one shot would be out by tonight along with a social media au!! i love you, thank you so much for reading!!
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by francisca.cgomes, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 896,525 others
yourusername you're my best friend i'll love you forever
tagged francisca.cgomes
7,827 comments
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charles_leclerc whatever i like pierre more anyway 🙄
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username HELP CHARLES AND PIERRE ARE SO OBSESSED BFS
-> username pretty gfs 🤝 obsessed bfs
pierregasly i like charles more than you anyways
-> yourusername can't hear u over boyfriend by dove cameron 🥰
-> pierregasly GIVE ME MY GF BACK
-> yourusername no ❤️
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 875,427 others
francisca.cgomes the only thing i like about charles is his gf 😘😘😘😘
tagged yourusername
6,916 comments
username PLEASE
username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username i can feel charles whining about this to pierre
carmenmmundt missing you both 🤍🤍
-> francisca.cgomes can't wait till you're here!!
username i love their friendship so much omg
pierregasly charles says he regrets introducing you two
-> francisca.cgomes doesn't matter now that she's my soulmate ❤️‍🩹
charles_leclerc a word of advice!! never introduce your best friend's gf and your gf, they WILL abandon you
-> francisca.cgomes cry about it x
-> yourusername wdym she's literally my gf now??????
-> pierregasly oh.
username i love this chaotic energy sm
yourusername the only reason i like pierre is you
-> francisca.cgomes HELP
username kika really said "i could be a better boyfriend than him"
*liked by yourusername*
username in love with these two ur honour
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, danielricciardo and 899,627 others
yourusername double date but charles and pierre are 3rd and 4th wheel
tagged charles_leclerc pierregasly francisca.cgomes
8,162 comments
username all of them are so
username THEY'RE RELATIONSHIP GOALS AND FRIENDSHIP GOALS
username double date but charles and pierre, me and kika*
-> yourusername my bad, you are absolutely correct
*liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and francisca.cgomes*
username the way charles is looking at her ☹️☹️☹️☹️
danielricciardo missing you all ❤️‍🩹
-> yourusername can't wait to see you danny ❤️‍🩹‼️
username Y/N AND KIKA ARE SO POWERFUL TOGETHER LIKE DAMN
username two pretty best friends ⁉️⁉️⁉️
pierregasly i would appreciate it if you can give me my gf back
-> yourusername sorry she likes me more
-> francisca.cgomes sorry bebé 💔💔💔
francisca.cgomes date with my 4ever no. 1
-> pierregasly love you angel ❤️
-> yourusername she meant me but ok.
username y/n stealing kika from pierre is actually so hilarious like i love it when wags become best friends
-> username literally like y/n, kika, lily and carmen are THE best friends and i love them sm :///
charles_leclerc it's okay but i miss you 💔
-> yourusername im sitting next yo u ?
-> charles_leclerc you're talking to kika
-> francisca.cgomes and?
charles_leclerc mate i think we made a mistake
-> pierregasly we really did huh
username THEY'RE SO PRETTY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
2K notes · View notes
buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months
Text
Treated like a queen | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> CollegeStudent!(Ex-)Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x CollegeStudent!(Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader ; College Student!BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x CollegeStudent!BestFriend!Female!Reader
Summary -> Steve cheated on you, and even when he tries to apologise, you can’t look at him the same way after knowing he just fucked someone else. Luckily your best friend is always there and knows how to treat his doll right.
Wordcount -> 3k.
Warnings -> (T) cheating, break down, crying, angst, but also a lot of fluff, college au
A/N -> The oneshot is dedicated to @imtryingbuck because you’re the most wonderful best friend I can wish for. You’re for me like Bucky is such the perfect best friend for reader. And I know you know that I appreciate you and all but I wanna let you know that you’re my bestest best friend. And I love you so much, thank you for the title hehe.😂❤️ Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Prompt -> Multifandom Flash Bingo | Round three | Card Number 1008 | 1.5 | Not cheating unless you get caught | @multifandom-flash | Fandom-Free Bingo Frosty Edition | N3 | Soulmate is Best Friend | @fandom-free-bingo | Fandom-Free Bingo Valentines Edition | N2 | Left Behind | @fandom-free-bingo | Sweetheart Bingo | N3 | @sweetspicybingo | Bingo of your own | Steve Rogers is not Captain America | O1 | @thebo3bingo
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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There he is, your boyfriend of five years. He stands in front of you, trying to explain himself, but there are no ways to do so. The two of you moved together a while ago; it’s just a room in the residential school, but being so close to each other was something you two really wanted, and there you are now. Steve and you are standing in the room, and he plays with his fingers in front of him.
“I’m sorry. It was a mistake,” he whispers, his eyes closed while he runs his fingers nervously through his hair.
“A mistake that happens how many times? Three or four times?” you ask and raise your eyebrow.
Steve opens his eyes; he wants to take a step closer, but you lift your hands and walk away from him. He looks down, swallowing hard, before he clears his throat and looks at you.
“We- We had sex seven times,” he mumbles quietly.
You gasp when those words leave his lips. You thought he cheated once, but knowing that he did it seven times needs a moment for you to realize that it really wasn’t a mistake he made. You turn your head away from him; you want to scream, but you feel like you can’t. It would stick in your throat, and you wouldn’t be able to let go of your feelings, and you don’t want to, not in front of him. Then there is the feeling of just turning around and running away, or at least to cry, but everything feels so surreal, and at the same time, you feel reality hitting you. Your boyfriend cheated on you, and it wasn’t a mistake; it was his own decision to have sex with someone. And there is no excuse why he could have cheated on you.
“What did I do wrong that you cheated?”
“N-Nothing. Baby, listen-“
You interrupt him before he can say another word, and you lift your hand, showing him to stop talking. And he does; he always takes care that he doesn’t overstep your boundaries.
You don’t want him to call you baby, babe, or whatever pet name he gave you. How often did he call her babe or baby? Every time they were together and kissed, or only when they fucked? Maybe he never called her that, but he does. Steve is someone who praises his partner a lot and calls them by their nicknames or the pet names he gives them. Was he just there to fuck him, or does he love her?
“Steve, please stop calling me that. I’m not yours anymore.”
Your voice is so cold that you shiver slightly at your own harshness. You’re more the soft one, the emotional person. Steve is still looking at you; he wants to touch you, pull you close to him, and tell you that he loves you, but he knows you’re done with him. He messed up because he didn’t get his dick under control.
“Y/N- listen. I’m sorry. I’m- It’s not your fault. I- We-,” he sighs. A single tear makes its way down his cheek; his eyes are red, and the next tears are just a moment before they roll down his cheeks as well. “We- It was during the party, and then we used it to get rid of every frustration or too much stress because of the exam.”
Steve sighs when you laugh darkly. Then you shake your head and face him. Your expression is cold in a way you never thought you would look at him. There is no love, but also no anger; your expression doesn’t show any kind of emotion. You as well as Steve didn’t know that you would ever be that cold to the love of your life, the boy with whom you have been together for five years, and he threw it away by cheating on you.
“Would you have done it one time, maybe I would have accepted it one day. Maybe we could have fixed our relationship, but- Steve. I can’t look at you the same way I did. Your eyes were the things I always thought to see the truth in; your embrace was my home, but how can I ever see in those eyes of yours when all those promises were just lies? When all those words had no meaning?” you ask.
“They were no lies, and I meant what I said. I love you, y/n,” he mumbles.
Those words, they were meant all for you. ‘I love you'; they made you his; they made you feel special around him, and now he says it. And you’re standing there, trying not to give in, and just kissing him or hugging him to feel his warm body pressing against yours.
“You love me, and you will talk to me. Those were things you said, but you didn’t talk to me when you were frustrated or stressed. You cheated on me when you loved me; why did you cheat on me? I’m your number one. You would never cheat on me, but you did. I felt special around you, but not anymore; you did the things we did with her,” you tell him with a sad smile. You sigh softly. "Steve, those things- I’m sorry, but I will leave now. I hope you will be happier with her. I hope she is worth it that you destroyed what we had. But I’m not going to be with someone who doesn’t want me and has cheated on me.”
You turn around to leave the room, your shared room, and your home. But since you can’t look at him without knowing he cheated on you, it doesn’t feel like home anymore. And Steve stays quiet when you open the door. When you step out of the room and close the door behind you, you’re not leaving your room behind you; you also leave the boy you love behind you, and even when it breaks you, you know that he doesn’t want you; otherwise, he wouldn’t have cheated on you. You look for your phone to call Bucky. He is your best friend and is always there when you need him. So it doesn’t take long for him to pick it up.
“Hey, babydoll. Thought you’re with Steve,” he says. You can hear his happiness when you call him.
“I was. But- I. Bucky, can I come to you?” you ask.
Your voice is shaking, and the gasp that leaves Bucky’s lips tells you that his mood immediately changes when he hears your broken voice.
“Of course. Do you need anything? Chocolate or your favorite food? Some drinks?”
“Just you and a hug.”
“Of course, do you want me to pick you up?” Bucky sounds worried, but his voice is so soft that you calm down when you just talk to him.
“No, I’m almost there,” you mumble and hang up.
You suddenly feel so weak; everything you had with Steve isn’t there anymore. Tears form in your eyes, and you think about everything you had with Steve, the love you shared, the memories, and now there is nothing left of that love, only the memories, which are currently just him cheating on you.
After a moment, you reach Bucky’s room, knocking at his door, and he immediately opens it. The usual smile that appears across his face whenever he sees you isn’t as big as usual. His steel blue eyes aren’t as bright as you’re used to seeing them; he looks worried when he sees your red eyes and the tears streaming down your cheeks. Bucky wants to say something but stops himself when you just open your arms and wait for him to pull you close against him. And he does; he walks a step closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. Your head is resting against his chest while he places his head on top of yours.
“I’ve got you, my pretty girl,” he mumbles, pulling you with him into his room before he closes the door with his feet.
When the door is shut, you break down in Bucky’s arms. Every feeling you tried to push away or didn’t want to cheat in front of Steve appears, and you're crying even more. Bucky holds you close, his hands moving up and down your back. You sob loudly, the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you feel like you can't breathe anymore. Your vision is blurry because of your tears, and you grip Bucky’s shirt to hold yourself. You’re a weck, which is just standing because of the tight grip of Bucky’s arms around your body. Everything you had with the love of your life, everything he promised, everything he said, it’s almost visible to you, and you can’t bring yourself to calm down. Your feelings are overwhelming, and you just want to be loved by someone who means what he said, someone who holds you like Bucky does right now.
“Bucky- he- Steve he cheated on me. Am I not enough for him? Why did he cheat on me?” you ask, still crying and pressing yourself more against Bucky.
“It’s not your fault, doll. He just doesn’t know what he lost when he let you go. You deserve someone who takes care of you and treats you the way you deserve to be treated, like a queen. Someone who knows that you’re worth so much more,” Bucky says, kissing your forehead, and he thinks about him when he says that he knows how to treat you right.
The two of you stand there for a while until your sobbing is quieter and you slowly calm down in Bucky’s embrace. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, letting him carry you to the couch, where he has already placed your favorite food and drinks. You sometimes wonder why he always has everything you like there, but he also loves that kind of food, and he always has everything there for his doll. When you see the food, you smile, and Bucky places you between them on the couch.
“That’s what I want to see, that wonderful smile, doll,” he smirks.
You blush, and Bucky captures your cheeks to make you look at him. He wipes the tears with his thumbs away, then he leans closer to kiss your nose.
“I love you so much, my pretty doll,” he mumbles before he lets go of you and lets himself fall down next to you on the couch.
“Bucky!!!! I love you too, but don’t sit on the food!” you say, raising your eyebrow.
Bucky laughs, wraps his arm around your waist, and pulls you against him. You place your head on his chest, then you look for some food you want to eat first. Meanwhile, Bucky looks for something next to him, giving it to you, and your smile grows when you see his hoodie. You take it on and giggle. He loves seeing you happy and that smile when your eyes brighten or when you giggle. Bucky, luckily, knows exactly how to make you happy and feel comfortable.
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It’s been a few weeks since you broke up with Steve, and it wasn’t easy for you to move on without him being around you every day. And especially when you had classes with him, it was even harder. But you get used to it, and Bucky makes sure he is always by your side to comfort you, and he just loves to spend his time with you.
“Bucky, you can meet your friends if you want to. I-I’m fine,” you say, sitting on his couch and looking at him.
“I prefer to spend time with my precious doll.”
You blush and hide yourself behind a pillow. The two of you are closer than ever, and since you’re living with Bucky in his room, you’re really happy after the situation where Steve cheated on you. Even when you sometimes miss him, Bucky makes sure you laugh just a moment later because he does something funny or just tells you a joke, even when it is not funny. But you laugh because he tells you bad jokes and acts like it was the most hilarious thing.
Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his arms resting on your thighs, and he smiles. His blue eyes are shining in a way you haven’t seen them before. You could look into them all the time; the light blue, which matches the slight gray, looks like the most beautiful ocean. And whenever he looks at you and you get lost in the beauty of his eyes, you can’t get yourself to look away. They are mysterious and beautiful, and it's kind of scary when you realize that you forget everything around you when you just look at them.
“Doll, you’re staring,” he says, squeezing your thighs a bit.
“Sorry- I just- Have you ever seen in your eyes?” you blush when you ask him that question.
Of course, he sees his eyes every time he looks into the mirror, but he probably doesn’t get lost in them like you do.
“Do you want to move in here completely?”
The way his voice sounds makes it clear he really means what he asks. And you thought about moving into his room already, and you talked about it, but now it’s on you to decide if you’re ready to say yes or if you want to have most of your things still in your old room, the one where Steve is still living.
When you went to Bucky the day you broke up with Steve, Bucky told Steve to put a few things into a bag and place them in front of the door so he could pick them up later. And Steve did as he was told; he put things that really meant something to you and some clothes into a bag and placed them in front of the door. And Bucky picked it up later that day and made sure he didn't have to see Steve; otherwise, he would have punched him in the face for being such a dick.
“Do you really don’t mind? I mean, I should talk to Steve first.”
You capture Bucky’s cheeks with your hands. He sticks his tongue out and inches close to try to lick your nose, but you push him softly away so he can’t lick at you.
“Buckyyyyy,” you giggle.
“What’s up, doll?”
You roll your eyes; he can act like he didn’t try to lick your nose and just pretends you’re asking for him to answer, so you’re going to tell him something then. Bucky chuckles before he clears his throat to speak in a deeper voice.
“I don’t mind you moving in with me. I’m a robot,” he says, and you burst out laughing.
“Oke I’m gonna make myself ready, and then I will go to Steve and talk to him.”
Bucky nods, letting himself fall to sit in front of you so you can stand up and go to make yourself ready. He looks at you and sees the way his hoodie fits perfectly as a dress for you, but you just prefer his clothes. Before you walk into the bathroom, you turn around and wink at him. He laughs, and while he listens to the shower and the way you dry yourself before you make your hair, his mind goes crazy with thoughts about you and Steve.
What if you want to go back to him? Maybe you prefer Steve, and even when you broke up with him, maybe your love is stronger and you will leave him alone. His mood changes from the happy little puppy into the introverted, sad boy he is whenever you’re not around him.
“Bu- Hey, Bucky. You’re oke?” you ask worriedly when you walk back to the couch where he is sitting.
Bucky's eyes are slightly red, and he sniffles, but he nods his head. Of course, he is fine, right? You’re not his, and when you decide to be back with Steve, who is going to make you happy. You need to be happy, and maybe you’re happier with Steve, even when Bucky hopes you will choose him.
“I will be back in a few minutes,” you tell him, running your fingers through his soft brown hair.
“But maybe you want to stay with Steve,” he mumbles quietly.
You don’t say anything; you just kneel down in front of him and capture his cheeks. You turn his head, so he has to look at you before you lean closer and kiss him softly. Bucky places his hand around your waist and pulls you closer while he moves his lips against yours. When you two pull away and catch your breath, he still looks into your eyes, his cheeks slightly red, and the smile on his lips reaches from one side of his face to the other.
“Call me when you need help with Steve.”
You grab your phone and tap on it before Bucky’s phone rings, and he picks it up, chuckling softly.
“Yes, doll?”
“You said 'call me' when you need help with Steve. And I call you. I would love it when you would come there with me so I don’t have to talk to him about things I don’t want to talk about,” you say and smile when he hangs up and leans closer to kiss you again.
“Of course, my pretty doll,” he says, and he stands up before he picks you up and twirls you around. “Before you need to throw up on me, tell me, please,” he says, and you both need to laugh.
And there he is, your best friend. But he is way more than that. Bucky is your soulmate; he knows things about you that no one knows about you. And when you thought Steve was the love of your life, it was just because you weren't with Bucky together. With your best friend, you feel like you’re complete, you’re loved, and he treats you like a queen, like his queen. And Bucky can finally show you that you deserve so many good things and that he loves you like you’re everything to him.
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Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @sergeantbarnessdoll @lives-in-midgard @rogersbarber @kandis-mom @km-ffluv @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @identity2212 @cjand10 @harleycao @lunaalovesyouu @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @blackhawkfanatic @flstrawberry
494 notes · View notes
luveline · 1 month
Note
please can i request a night in with prince!steve ? something like them missing a ball due to a storm but they’re secretly very happy for the time away!! thank u <333
ty for requesting <3 prince!steve soulmate au
The palace silks are softer than anything you’ve ever touched, like the very inside of a baby’s palm, or the fluff of a fledgling bird. You savour the feeling of it on your naked legs, heat from the fireplace warring with the chill emanating from the windows. 
“Will it be a hurricane?” you ask. 
Steve sits on the floor beside the bed closest to the fire. He has one of his books. To your surprise, your new husband is a big reader, so long as the novel is trashy adventure or not so tasteful romance fiction. He reads more than he bothers with the holos, but that’s only because the storm is messing with the city’s thermoelectrics. Heir to a kingdom and obsessed with tales of pirates and bandits. 
“Steve?” 
He looks up from his book apologetically. “Yes.” 
“Did you hear what I said?” 
“Yeah, I heard you. I think it’ll be worse than a hurricane toward the coast, but we won’t see that here.” 
“So we’ll be fine?” 
“Yeah, and we won’t have to go anywhere for weeks.” 
Just this morning a ball you and Steve were meant to attend as part of your wedding tour was cancelled. You’ve been allowed the time you’d have spent there as your own, and you’re thrilled to find that Steve wants to share it with you. He seems to really like you (which you’d hope for, considering your soulbond), raising his head in question with his hand creeping across silk to touch your knee. 
You lean down carefully and kiss him. 
To tell yourself that a few months ago you hadn’t known him, hadn’t thought for a moment your soulmate would be him, and hadn’t ever pictured yourself in the selenite palace kissing him like this. 
“Do you wanna get married?” he murmurs.
“Steve…” 
He smiles, takes your face into his hand, and gives you a long lovely kiss. Pressure of his lips to yours, his thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek with unquestionable adoring, Steve grins into your kissing and fights his way up, and up, kneeling and then standing, taking the lead. He kisses you until your lips are thrumming and you’re breathless, kissing down to your jaw and just under your ear. That kiss is sweetest. His hands smooth down your arms and hold you still. “Oh,” he says, his smugness palpable, “right. We already did that.” 
“You’re tickling me,” you mumble. 
“It’s on purpose, yeah.” 
Steve wraps his arms behind your head and promptly drops down on top of you. You laugh like a hyena, you’ve been careful since you met him to be you’re most attractive self, but you’re starting to wonder if it matter, considering you’re in pyjamas too big for you and you’d gotten bored taking your hair out of pins, and yet he still wants to sandwich you to the bed and kiss your neck with nipping lips. 
“Let’s never leave our room again,” he says. 
“This isn’t a very princely way to touch me,” you say back. 
“And this isn’t a very princess appropriate position you’re in–”
“You’ve put me in–”
“Are you warm enough?” he asks, his face pressed to the curve of your neck, and his hands on your tummy. “You feel cold.” 
You pull him from the soft of you and encourage his face back to look at one another clearly. His face flickers a sweet pink from the light of your soul mark, that ever hovering reminder that you and he were destined to be together, and to be in love. 
His own flickers a soft orange. 
“Warm me up,” you suggest, half-joking, lest he not want to do that and you’ve embarrassed yourself. 
Steve glares at you playfully. “Of course I will. Let’s go sit by the fire.”
“Noooo.” 
He wedges himself against you, your left leg and his right hanging off of the bed, the sheets slippery on your back. “This is perfect,” he murmurs, stroking your face as he gets comfortable atop you. “So happy. Let’s get married twice, please.” 
317 notes · View notes
xxwritemeastoryxx · 8 months
Text
Intertwined
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Author: xxwritemeastoryxx
Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader - Soulmate Au!
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: Angst, arguments, Elijah being overly protective but denying himself happiness as always, canon typical violence, a bit of fluff at the end.
Author’s Note: Because I'm apparently on a sequel kick, here's another. I promise I'm getting to the requests that I have and all the things I still need to work on from last year. I'm going where the muse takes me in my writing flow. So there's that. Also please note that you need to read Hidden Marks before reading this one.
I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥
Hidden Marks || TVDU Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist
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It had been months since Elijah had seen the three intertwined circles on the middle of Y/N’s back that made up her soul mark. The first and only time he'd seen it, he'd been pulling a wooden bullet out from her back when she asked for his help. From the moment Elijah helped to remove the bullet, the mark haunted him. 
Seeing her mark should have been a great thing. It should have brought him some peace and happiness to see her mark. That her mark matched the very one he had just below his left clavicle. A perfect pair that made sense for how close they had become as friends over the century. If anything, since seeing her mark he's been conflicted on his feelings. 
Part of him wants and tries to be protective of her. His soulmate that had come into his life when he least expected it. The woman that had become his best friend over the century had been the one thing he never actively searched for. He now knew why she stepped into his life and never left. But it was the other part of him that caused him to fight daily with his feelings. 
Y/N would be in danger because of him. She would soon become a target if even the slightest word had slipped about who his soulmate was. An endless cycle he'd force her into if an enemy ever came knocking. Threats and being captured for the sole purpose of being leveraged against him. 
Not to mention if his brother had ever lost his temper with him. Klaus wasn't one to spare the women in Elijah's life before. What difference would it make this time? All it would take was one action that made Klaus feel the slightest ounce of betrayal and he'd take it out on her. 
Elijah was willing to take on the devil himself if Y/N was in danger. He was reminded of it any time she recklessly put herself in harm's way. An argument he had with her plenty of times during their friendship, but held a deeper meaning as of recently. 
He was also reminded daily how easily she could bend him to her will with a simple smile as she walked into the room. Or the occasional knowing look she'd give him when he or his siblings said something she didn't agree with that would almost instantly change his mind about the situation. Especially if she added in her details that would make it reckless on her part. 
But no matter how many times that feeling of comfort and love started to grow for the woman he believed he could only care for platonically, he could never voice it. He could never bring himself to mention the details that he knew. And because he chose to keep it to himself, it began the yoyo effect of wanting to keep her at a distance and keep her close for his own sanity. 
It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Y/N either. From the moment she offered him a night out to deal with the humans who had put the bullets into her back, she noticed something different. She noticed the way his demeanor changed around her. He grew worrisome over the smallest of things he never had before. And even fought with her longer over details of plans to help take down the threat the Mikaelsons had been faced with. 
She found herself frustrated on the days that he brushed her off and all but ignored her. He had never once been cold to her in the time that she had known him. They had pushed each other’s buttons on occasion, but Elijah had never once pushed her away like he had been doing now. Every time he did, it hurt more than Y/N had ever expected it to. 
They were close friends, she knew that. She knew there would always be moments that Elijah would pick his family over her. That there would be moments where he would keep his family safe and do anything he could to also keep her safe. She knew she was not the highest priority. But why did it feel like someone had staked her when he walked away from her when she felt she really needed him for a few moments?
That's when the thoughts of doubt had been planted in her head. Doubts that were formed and fueled to drive her insane for most of the night that made it almost impossible to sleep. What had she done to earn such coldness from someone that she was close with? Had she crossed a boundary that she had suddenly been unaware of? 
The final straw that broke her had been moments ago when she offered to go with him to deal with the beginning of a threat. It was always something they had done together. A way to have Elijah’s calm and calculated approach and her glimmer of chaos that would always work out in their favor. But when he told her to stay behind, she could no longer keep anything at bay anymore. 
The moment Elijah had told her to stay behind, her face fell at his words. And as he walked past her to leave his expression hadn’t changed. And as she turned to face him, she let it all out. 
“What have I done?” She asked, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Have I wronged you in some way that makes you no longer want to be around me?”
Elijah heard the way her voice cracked towards the end. He had hoped that his actions wouldn’t hurt her. But here she was asking what she had done to him when in reality it had been him to do it. He turned to face her and shook his head slightly. 
“No.” His voice was composed in comparison to hers. “You have done nothing at all.”
She shook her head as she crossed her arms. “I’ve known you for over a century, Elijah. I know well enough to know you are lying to me. If I’ve done nothing wrong there wouldn’t be this shift between us where it feels like you suddenly want nothing to do with me.”
“I assure you that if I had wanted nothing to do with you, you would not still be standing here.” It was as close to the truth he could go to without coming out right with it. “We are facing a potential threat that I feel as though I need to do this with my siblings. We have no idea what they are fully capable of and the last time I checked, you are not as indestructible as you believe.”
Elijah had no idea how this threat would continue to play in their lives. He had no idea what knowledge they planned to use against them in an attempt to try and take him and his family out. That was why Elijah wanted to do this without her. He wanted to make sure that she would remain safe. 
He didn’t want to take Y/N with him with the possibility of allowing them to get an inkling that Y/N had now meant more to him than he let on. He didn’t want her in danger from something he didn’t fully understand. This was the part of him that was willing to do anything to protect her. He just had to slightly push her away in order to do so. 
“That never stopped you before.” She noted as she took a step towards him. “I may not be an original, but I am still a whole lot older than a majority of the threats that walk into the city. I have proven myself over and over that I can handle my own. I’m even better by your side. But ever since you’ve seen my mark, it’s like you don’t want to be near me. All I want is the truth from you. Did I do something or did my mark tell you something that you haven’t told me?”
Elijah looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up to her. He could see the hurt in her eyes as she expressed everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her even though every part of him wanted to. To bring some peace to her mind on his reasoning instead of making her feel as though she wasn’t wanted. 
“I’m going to try to make this as clear as I can." His voice was still even, almost void of any emotion. "This threat is not to be taken lightly. While we do not have the full specifics on who they are or why they are here, I do know they have come close to harming the people I care about." His eyes met hers. "While our normal plan pairs perfectly with the riff raff we deal with, at this moment it does not. So no, you will not accompany me tonight. I need you here." 
After taking in his words, all she could manage was a nod before he was gone from her sight. He didn’t even give her a chance to respond or fight him on what he was telling her. And it left Y/N feeling defeated. 
Her mind still tried to make sense of the changes that had come over the last few months. Every push and pull that happened between the two being analyzed as if it had been some rather important document or experiment being worked on. She was trying to find something, anything, to show what caused Elijah’s sudden change. No matter how many ways she thought about it, it only came back to one starting point: the night Elijah saw her mark. 
Had seeing it really thrown him off to not want to be near her like he had used to? Not showing them their marks had been a preference they decided on early in their friendships. If there was ever a day they felt comfortable in showing what it was, they would have. And that night, with a bullet in her back, it hadn’t mattered if Elijah had seen it or not. 
She ran a hand along her face, trying to shake off the thoughts that had kept her pacing her room for hours after he had left. She no longer cared about the mark or who she may have possibly shared it with. Why did that change now that Elijah had seen it?
It made her wonder if he had seen the mark on someone else. If there was a possibility that he felt guilty in some way after seeing it. There had been plenty of enemies in his existence. At some point he could have easily come across it and not realized it until he saw it on her back.
Did it belong to someone who had betrayed him? Had he seen it on someone that he had taken their life out of necessity? Or had this person been a victim of the many spells he had endured? 
Deep down she knew it was the fear of losing Elijah. Something she had thought about over the century and a half she had known him. Friendships can only last so long before one reason or another comes along. She knew plenty of people who had left her on the back burner after finding their soulmate, even during her human years. 
She had grown used to having Elijah in her life. It would take her longer to find a memory that didn’t involve Elijah versus the ones with. Over the years she had become dependent on the fact that Elijah had always been there for her just as she was for him. He was a constant and part of her hated the thought of her ever losing that. 
At the thought, Y/N had felt her heart sink. A simple thought putting everything into perspective to her. The idea may have been formed from past experiences, but it all made sense. Elijah must have found his soulmate. And if that was the case, she was sure this was the beginning of being put further back on the burner.  
“Y/N?!” Rebekah’s panicked voice had broken her from her thoughts, causing her to move quickly to find Rebekah. 
Upon reaching the courtyard, a gasp left her lips as she found Rebekah dragging a half standing Elijah towards the couch. The majority of his clothing had been covered in blood. Parts of the fabric had been torn in several places. It was as if Elijah had picked a battle he couldn’t win. 
“What the hell happened?” Y/N asked as she moved to help get Elijah settled on the couch. Her eyes had still been taking him in, accessing his injuries. 
“Witches.” Elijah breathed out as he tried to get a hold of reality. He had lost enough blood and his mind had been a distorted mess from the magic he had been subjected to. 
“Everything had been going according to plan but whatever spell they used on him, it threw him off course.” Rebekah took the moment to leave the room to get items they needed to help Elijah for the time being until Freya could get back there. The moment she was back she continued. “The others are still there dealing with them.” 
Seeing the items Rebekah had brought, Y/N reached for the towel that had been sitting in a bowl of water and began cleaning off the blood from Elijah’s face and neck. “I can understand the disorientation, but what the hell ripped into him?” 
There was panic rising within Y/N. She hated that he had made her stay behind. She could have been there to help him in some way. Been there to help prevent him from being hurt as he was now. 
"Between the spell and some of the wolves within the vicinity, he couldn't watch his back." Rebekah said as she picked up another towel and folded it before placing it on Elijah's forehead. Afterwards she began picking up little containers of what Y/N could only assume were herbs and salves that Freya had instructed her to use for the time being. 
As Y/N ran the towel over his neck, Elijah lifted his hand to her hand, stilling her movements. It caused her to look up at him. His eyes had been looking over her face, before they settled on her eyes.
"You're safe." His voice was barely above a whisper. 
She nodded her head. "I am safe. You made sure I was." She wasn't sure if that was what he needed to relax more as she attempted to help clean him. "Freya will be here soon." 
With that, Elijah seemed to relax his hold and it allowed for her to continue wiping up the blood. So far it looked as though any of the injuries he sustained were healing. It may have been at a whole lot of a slower pace, but his wounds were healing. But the moment her hand moved to remove the shredded fabric stuck to his skin along his left shoulder and chest, his hand grabbed a hold of her wrist, not wanting her to continue. 
"I need to make sure your wounds are healing Elijah." She said softly as she brought her eyes up to his once more. "Or to at least give me the peace of mind that this looks way worse than it is." 
"For once let someone take care of you." Rebekah added and pulled his hand away from Y/N. It had been too easy to remove his hand. His strength is almost non-existent given what he'd been through. 
Elijah hated that he couldn't get his mind to process the protest he wanted to give. He hated that he couldn't give a strong enough response to say he'd deal with it later. But the spell within his mind made it difficult to think clearly for more than a second or two at a time. 
Elijah’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as she began to move the fabric away from his chest. He didn't care about the wounds he was facing. He didn't even care that Y/N and Rebekah were caring for him. It was what laid just under the layers of fabric she was removing, that had him worried. 
Quickly dipping the towel into the bowl of water between her and Rebekah, Y/N brought it back up to his chest and began to rid him of the drying blood. There was a part of her that was relieved to not see some gaping wound that he was trying to prevent her from seeing. 
That relief soon turned into curiosity as the blood was being wiped away. The beginning of Elijah's mark became clear as day. With each wipe of the towel the mark continued to grow. And as last of the reminisce of blood was removed from the mark, she all but dropped the towel. 
Just below his left clavicle had been three intertwined circles. It ran horizontally across his skin in the exact same way it ran across the middle of her back. And for a moment she fought herself on reaching out just to run her fingers along the mark. A need to make sure it was really there. 
Elijah had watched her the whole time. Even through his hazed mind he could see the way relief had flooded her eyes before her brows began to furrow. The curiosity in her eyes had been evident and there was nothing Elijah could do to fully protest in his current state. All he could do was watch her as she learned what he had months ago. 
Her soulmate had been right there in front of her for over a century.  
Her eyes snapped to him and Elijah could see several emotions flash through her eyes. He could see the way there was a sliver of excitement before hurt filled them as she tried to stop the tears from welling up. 
"What is it?" Rebekah asked as she caught on that Y/N had stopped her movements. 
Y/N shook her head slightly before looking away from Elijah. "Nothing worth noting." She said as she went back to wiping the blood. 
She kept her eyes away from the mark and as best as she could from keeping them from looking up at Elijah. She could feel his eyes on her. But she refused to look his way. 
All of her wild thoughts that had been going through her head earlier had only been partially right. She honestly never thought this was the case. And if she was being honest with herself, this felt worse. 
He had found his soulmate like she thought.  But she hadn't expected it to be herself. Not with the way he had pulled himself away from her during the course of the last few months. Not with the way she felt that she was losing her best friend. 
Elijah knew that he was her soulmate and he didn't tell her. There wasn't an excitement at knowing that the person they spent decades with had been the one person they both chose not to actively look for. Their life had been great just as it was. Until Elijah saw her mark. 
She tried to stop the spiral of thoughts that began to form. It was already too late to try to spare her heart the pain it was currently feeling. No matter how hard she tried to focus on helping Rebekah take care of him, one single thought played in her mind on a constant loop. 
He knew they were soulmates and he tried pushing her away. 
The moment Freya came running into the courtyard with Klaus and Kol behind her, Y/N pulled herself slowly away from the side of the couch. It was a way to not only keep the now unwanted attention of her facial expressions away but to give the necessary space Freya would need. 
When she moved a little too far for Elijah’s liking, his hand grabbed a hold of hers. This time his grip was tighter in comparison to earlier. He was getting better, stronger. The venom from the wolf bites was leaving his system while the spell kept a tight hold over him.
Y/N's eyes met his one more time. She could tell he was pleading with her to stay there with his eyes. Almost to say that once Freya helped him he'd explain everything to her. That he needed her to stay there.
There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?” 
“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest. 
Her heart ached at the sudden memory that filled her mind. She wanted to break down. She wanted to run to get fresh air. Do anything that would allow her to process the information she had been given in the last few minutes. 
Freya came over and knelt down beside Elijah, giving Y/N the chance to pull her hand away from Elijah. She took several back as she tried to decide if she wanted to stay or leave the area. But a heartbeat later she was mumbling some excuse and left the courtyard. 
It was only when she was safely behind the door of her room, she felt more clarity than she had downstairs. The wave of emotions she felt calmed in comparison.  While silent tears had begun falling, it hadn't felt like her world had come crashing to a halt as it had. 
"For as many times as I've come here to hide away, there's never been another person here." Y/N said as she took in the stranger. "Might have to find a new one if this one is compromised." 
"I can assure you, I've known about this place for a lot longer than you." The stranger looked towards her. "I may have been out of the city for some time, but I will know more about the history than you ever will.”
A laugh passed her lips causing a smile to form on his lips. “What if I told you I watched that town in the distance be built?”
His eyebrow raised slightly before he looked towards the town she had been speaking of. “I’d then ask if you knew what was out there before the town was built.”
“A small village.“ She responded.  “One that was destroyed just a few years after I was born. There are stories of a creature that roamed the woods that surrounded that village. A creature that was hunted but never killed.” She shrugged her shoulders before looking back towards the stranger. “Though I’d love to hear what you have that can top that.”
He laughed for a moment before he placed his hand out between them. “I’m Elijah. And I assure you, I can surpass any story you’ve been told about the area.”
“That’s a challenge I’m willing to take.” She said as she placed her hand in his. “I'm Y/N.”
That year Y/N needed to get away from the life she had found herself in after being a vampire for a few centuries already. The mountaintop just above the town she was born in had always been her go to place to reevaluate her life as a human and as a vampire. That night, Y/N had been debating on watching the sunrise for the last time. 
But Elijah had been there to pull her thoughts away from the sunrise and into a life that she had now thrived in. Elijah had been there when she needed him the most. Her soulmate had been the one to pull her back from the edge and she never knew it until now.
Elijah had saved her that night. He saved her and it wasn't long after he paid off a witch to create a daylight ring for her. A friendship shouldn't be had just in the dark. Those had been his words as he held up the daylight ring for her to take a few minutes before sunrise a few weeks later.
Her heart picked up in pace as her mind continued to accept everything that happened. The details of their meeting to this current moment made sense from a soulmate perspective. No matter how many times the flashes of memories played through her mind, there was no changing the facts. 
"What if I don't want to marry my soulmate?" A young Y/N asked as she kicked her shoe at the dirt. 
Her mother's laugh filled the air. "You don't always have to marry your soulmate. Sometimes it depends on what best suits the both of you. Your soulmate can be a best friend or even a lover. Sometimes they're both." She knelt down to Y/N's height. "There's one thing I know though. Having them in your life in any form is a whole lot better than not having them in your life or losing them. So when you are able to meet the person that knows your soul without needing to try hard, fight as hard as you can. Fight with them, for them and alongside them as needed." She ran her hand along Y/N’s cheek. "I know this doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but I promise one day you'll understand. "
The sound of the knock on her door followed by the door slowly opening had pulled her out of her thoughts and memories. Without even looking she had already known it was Elijah. She quickly wiped at her cheeks before she turned towards the door. 
The moment she had, Elijah could see that the whirlwind of emotions he saw earlier in her eyes had shifted. Even as her eyes welled up, he could see the hurt along with acceptance. And if he was being honest with himself, the acceptance is what scared him. 
He took a few steps further into her room before he came to a stop. "What I've done was-" 
"Cowardice?" She finished for him before he got the chance to even form the next word. It made him raise his brow. "Because whatever reasoning you have for not telling me was the worst decision you have ever made. And I know there have been plenty of questionable decisions you've made." 
"I know I should have told you that night." He gave a slight nod. "For a brief moment I wanted to. But then I realized the danger you would be in because of me." 
She had already begun shaking her head before he finished speaking. "Danger that I haven't already been in from just being close with you. Or to your siblings for that matter." She watched as he opened his mouth to speak but she quickly continued to stop him. "I know it's not the same. Putting it out there makes it more real and practically puts a target on both of us. I know what that target looks like. That just means we'll be better prepared for it." 
She knew from experience how easy it was to use a soulmate as leverage. How easy it was to threaten them to get someone to bend to their will. There was a dark decade in Y/N's existence where she had once toyed with humans and their soulmates. A time where her humanity had been switched and she hadn't cared. 
She knew the tricks that could be played. She knew how much damage someone could take before they snapped. The emotional torment that could be played on both parties to get the point across was something she lived for during that dark decade. 
At least that was until her humanity had been forcefully switched on. She tormented herself afterwards on how she could carelessly manipulate people by using the one weakness they all had. It was part of the reason she found herself heading back to the mountaintop. 
"If today has taught me anything it's that you were safer without me near." He watched as her eyebrow raised before he continued. "While having you by my side would have been beneficial for many reasons, I watched as my worst fear played through my mind because of a spell. A spell that provided sufficient reasons on why I was right on my decision to not say anything." 
"A spell that was used to distract you.” She noted. It explained why he had seemed so relieved at seeing her safe. "And a fear that we could have worked out beforehand if you simply had told me. I spent the last several hours wondering how and when I had become the problem. Part of me knew that you had found your soulmate and that was why you were pushing me away. That maybe you were trying to distance yourself from me to make room for them." Her eyes began to well up. "I just never thought you'd be pushing me away because I am your soulmate."
Elijah shook his head slightly as guilt filled him. He could see in that moment how hurt she had been by it. The emotions she had displayed when he first came into the room broke down bit by bit. And the thought that she believed she was the problem stung him in ways he never believed it would. 
"I don't know if I can be what you need me to be." He said a moment later. "It has been proven time and again that whenever I let an ounce of happiness into my life, it's quickly taken away. I refuse to have the same thing happen to you. And if that means keeping you at a distance or even you leaving the city-" 
"Nothing has to change!" She cut him off as she shook her head. "We have been by each other's side for over a century without even knowing we were soulmates. We have been through hell and back together without even questioning how it was possible. I have fought by your side not caring if I died in the process." She wiped at her cheeks as more tears escaped. "I will continuously be by your side even after this. I don't care if it is as something more or keeping things as it has been. But don't you dare for one moment think that I would be safer with you pushing me away or even deciding that it's better without you in my life." 
He sighed softly before taking a few steps to close the distance between them. "If anything were to ever happen to you because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself." His hand came up to her cheek before using his thumb to wipe away more of her tears. 
"It's going to happen with or without you in my life." Her eyes met his. "I am no stranger to being threatened by your family. I have had Klaus's hand on my heart and I'm still here in front of you." She placed her hand on top of his as she leaned into his touch slightly.  A way to prove that she was there. "I am not even a stranger to having a witch use me as leverage or even used to fight against you. I can leave tonight and what's to stop anyone from coming after me once it's actually figured out?" She watched as he took in her words. "This isn't just one sided either. I am afraid of what each new threat could mean for you. I want and need you to be safe, maybe even for my own selfish reasons. But I will not let you push me away without at least fighting to stay. I will continue to be by your side no matter how much you push. I will stand there by your side and face the enemy with you and die there with you if it comes to it. I will continue to be your friend or more if that is what you need and you'll never have to worry that I'll leave you. But I will not let you try and push me out of your life for the fear of what could possibly happen to me just because you're afraid to let yourself be happy."
Elijah's eyes never left hers as she spoke. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. Not when he was seeing everything play through her eyes. Every emotion, every piece of history and hopeful future had been displayed within them. And he could no longer ignore what he'd been trying to avoid. 
He knew everything she said was right. He would hate himself if anything happened to her while she was gone. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he ever learned the news that something had happened to her. He couldn't ignore the fact that throughout the years and even now she was fighting for her place to stay no matter how hard he tried to keep her at bay and safe in his eyes. 
The same safety that he had been trying to provide her since the night they met. How broken her eyes had looked from the moment she took a seat next to him on that mountain top. And how everything within him had told him to protect her from anything. Even himself if it ever came to it. 
But as he looked into her eyes now, he could see the woman that had become his best friend.  The woman that stood there beside him as threat after threat came. How she cared for him in his moments of need even though he fought her on it. The one person he couldn’t go more than a few days without speaking with. It was why the thought of losing her scared him even more than he ever believed. 
After a moment, Elijah nodded his head. “I give you my word that I will not push you away or ask you to leave.” His thumb gently moved along her cheek. He watched as something changed within her eyes. “I don't believe I could actually watch you leave, let alone be alone out there in the world. Nor can I picture a day where you are not in my life in some form or another. You have your selfish reasons and I have mine. But I have never wished for you to look so hurt as you have today and I will spend as much time as needed to make up for it. ” He looked elsewhere for a moment before looking back at her. “I just don’t know how things will change from here.”
The part of Y/N’s heart that expected the worst had felt relief. Relief that he wasn’t going to continue to push her away. Relief that he was willing to accept that they were soulmates and that she wasn’t going to go down or leave without a fight. And if anything, there was a small tug of a smile at her lips at his words. 
“We continue as friends, just as we have.” She offered. “If in the future things change, we’ll go from there.”
A hum of agreement passed his lips as he pulled his hand away from her. As he did, He maneuvered his hand to take a hold of her’s, finding comfort in just holding her hand within his. Her offer of nothing needing to change played in his ears.
There was something within him that agreed with that. Mixed within the agreement was the hope that things would change for the better. But for now this was a step in the right direction. A step that meant he wasn’t going to push her away as he had planned to. It was in a direction that he strongly believed he’d never lose her in the way that he feared.
“We’ll handle things as we always have.” He nodded his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. 
“Together?” She asked as a small hopeful smile pulled at her lips. 
She could joke about how they would work together as she always had in the past. She could have added in how reckless they could be. How the calm and chaosbetween them would keep things interesting. But at that moment, she only needed the confirmation that it would continually be them against everything else that came at them.
“Together.” He promised with no intention of ever breaking that promise. Even when the world learned of the mark they share, he’d keep his promise and keep each other close to their sides. As a friend, as a potential lover, but most importantly as soulmates that would never have to live without the other. 
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onceuponastory · 7 months
Text
one single word - bucky barnes x reader
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Plot: In a world where the first thing your soulmate says to you is somewhere on your body, Y/N soon realises that hers is not what she expected... or what she wants. (Soulmate!AU). Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Just some swearing and reader worrying she's going to end up alone. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is my piece for @lunarbuck's Soulmate AU writing challenge! Congrats on 2k! Also can't believe it took me so long to use a pic of Seb from this day because he looked SO GOOD. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.
“Has your word shown up yet? Just got mine!” Wanda’s text comes in. Groaning, Y/N types back a reply.
“Yup.” Immediately, Wanda sends another.
“It’s that bad? I’ll be straight over.” She promises, and Y/N goes back to staring at herself in the mirror, unable to tear her gaze away from the word which is now on her side. From a young age, Y/N and everyone else in this world were told that when they got older, the first words their soulmate said to them would soon appear on their body somewhere, disappearing only when they met the soulmate in question. And of course, it led to a lot of excitement and nervous apprehension as people wondered what words would be there, and imagined what scenario they’d meet their soulmate in. 
None more so than Y/N. As she grew up, she became an author, which meant that writing loving words about others became her job, and something she now has a huge amount of experience in. All day every day, she writes paragraph after paragraph of people describing how beautiful their partners are, how much their heart beats whenever they’re around, and how they want to spend the rest of eternity with them. And the entire time, Y/N’s own soulmate is in the back of her mind, as well as her hope that their first meeting is as romantic as her stories. So obviously, Y/N had grown to expect that the words - her words - that her soulmate would end up having on their skin would be something beautiful, like poetry.
Unfortunately for Y/N, though, it seems her soulmate didn’t have the same consideration for her.
Because there, on her side, emblazoned in huge letters is one single word. “Fuck.” “It’s not that bad.” Wanda soothes as she studies the word. Thankfully, she showed up soon after receiving Y/N’s text for moral support. 
“Yes, it is! Today I wrote someone saying their lover’s eyes are as bright as the stars, and with them they feel whole. And do I get that? No, I get ‘Fuck!’”
“Maybe he’s saying ‘Fuck.’ but then he says ‘you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen’?”
“Or it could be ‘fuck’ because they stepped on my toes. Or maybe they dropped coffee on me? Or-” Y/N shakes her head, trying to shake herself out of her panic. Yet, it only intensifies. “And besides, it’s such a general word! What if I get confused and think someone else is my soulmate?”
“That isn’t going to happen. Personally, I think we have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.”
“You’re such a romantic, Wanda.”
“Says you.” She rolls her eyes. When Y/N freaks out a little again, Wanda shushes her with a gentle: “Calm down. You’re going to give me a headache at this rate. And besides, it could be worse! Mine is ‘Hello there’. What even is that?!” she groans, taking another sip from her drink.
“Oh please, yours is suave and sophisticated.” Y/N argues. “Maybe it’s a ‘Hello there.’” She mimes a smirk, looking Wanda up and down. “And then he says, ‘may I just say that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?’”
“Either that or they’re doing a horrendously bad Obi-Wan Kenobi impression.” Wanda counters, making her and Y/N dissolve into fits of giggles. “But seriously. You don’t know what causes him to say that. Nobody does. That’s the beauty of soulmates.” She grins reassuringly. “And besides, I’m sure it’ll be a funny story to tell your kids one day.” 
And for a while, her reassuring words worked, and Y/N's feelings about the word permanently inked onto her side improved slightly. But the longer time went on without meeting her soulmate, Y/N started to think they don’t exist at all. And what’s worse, she’d be stuck with this single word on her side for the rest of her life, an enduring reminder of her failure to find her true love.
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A few months later,
Y/N walks down the street, preoccupied by her phone call. Her publisher has been ringing her almost every day this week, desperate to know when they can expect her next manuscript. The same manuscript that’s been sitting incomplete on her laptop for the last several months. Understandably, love hasn’t been high on the list of Y/N’s priorities ever since she realised what her soulmate’s first word to her was. 
When she catches sight of herself in a shop window, noticing the hem of her sweater has ridden up, exposing the k and most of the c of the word on her side, it makes her feel worse. Of course, she still hasn’t found her soulmate. Nothing like yet another reminder of how you’re failing in life. Quickly rolling down her sweater, covering the word that seems to be burned into her skin by this point, Y/N keeps walking. In a last-ditch attempt to find some productivity and get this fucking manuscript finished, she’s decided to visit her favourite coffee shop. That and she just really wants an iced coffee. 
“When…if I ever find my soulmate, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.” She huffs, reaching out to grab the door handle to the coffee shop. Before she can open it, the door slams open, almost hitting her in the face. Luckily, Y/N manages to dodge the figure that almost crashes into her. This is the last fucking thing she needs right now. She rounds on the man, ready to give him a piece of her mind, to ask him, no, demand that he looks where he’s going next time, and be careful!
That’s what she wanted to say. What she should’ve said.
The beautiful pair of blue eyes she suddenly finds herself staring into stops her. As blue as the sky on a gorgeous summer's day, as blue as the ocean, inviting her into their depths. This man is gorgeous. His muscles bulge out through the blue shirt (the same colour as his eyes) he has opened over a vest top. His brunette hair is pulled into a man bun, a few loose tendrils sticking out. The man’s eyes widen as he takes her all in, realising how close he came to spilling his coffee all over her. 
And then he speaks.
“Fuck.” He murmurs, his voice just loud enough for her and only her to hear. Immediately, Y/N registers her heartbeat stop.
“What did you just say?” She gasps. Instead of repeating his words, the man’s eyes widen even more, almost bulging out of his head. He rolls down the sleeve of his shirt, displaying the slowly fading words printed on his shoulder. 
“What did you just say?”
“Does yours say ‘fuck’, by any chance?” The man chuckles, still clearly in shock, and wordlessly, Y/N nods, lifting her sweater to show him.
“Oh, my god.” They both speak at the same time. The man holds a hand out, which Y/N shakes. “I’m Bucky. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Nervously he rubs the back of his neck, and Y/N notices a burst of pink spreading across his cheeks. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous?” He stammers a little. “Sorry, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to say right now. It’s not everyday you meet your soulmate.”
“We have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.” Wanda’s words echo in her mind, and Y/N’s shock turns into a smile, all thoughts of giving her soulmate a piece of her mind gone as quickly as the word on her side. At first she brushed Wanda’s words aside, but she’s actually totally right. Being with Bucky, it finally feels right. Like the missing pieces she’s spent so long looking for are finally in place.
“I know.” Y/N nods. “But it’s completely understandable. To be honest, I’m still in shock too. I’m Y/N by the way.” 
"Y/N." Bucky smiles.“I am sorry for almost spilling my coffee over you.” He chuckles, and Y/N giggles. 
“Already forgotten about.”
“I, um, I need to head off, but how about we grab some dinner tonight?” Bucky grins. “We have a lifetime to catch up on.” 
“Sounds wonderful.” Y/N smiles.
It may not have been the most perfect meeting… at least, not compared to her romance novels, but Y/N doesn’t care. Because it turned out to be perfect for her.
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greg-montgomery · 7 months
Text
any other world - part 1
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au
series masterlist
prologue
once again a huge thanks to this angel @criminalskies 🥹🫂🩷
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(38)
“Haley, I said no.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to that name.” She smiled; Aaron assumed it wasn’t a genuine reaction, but more of an attempt to lighten up the mood.
This happened a lot. She’d say something that made him think of you, he’d have a reaction, and she’d pretend she didn’t notice. It broke his heart, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“If you have a different name in mind I’m open to suggestions,” she added, taking his hands in hers.
He leaned in to kiss her. “Just any other name besides Jack. Please.”
“Okay.”
--
(20)
“Aaron…” you whined, kicking one of the pillows that decorated your bed on the floor. “Be done with it already.”
“My exam is at 8 am. I won’t have any time to revise in the morning. Just give me thirty more minutes.”
“I can’t sleep without you.”
“I know. But if I come to your bed to study, I will not be studying,” he argued, since there was no need of you to say anything for him to get what you were insinuating.
“I’ll just lay my head on your chest. I promise I won’t even talk to you.”
“Fine,” he said, always unable to say no to you; even though your weight on him and your sweet scent would definitely make the letters on his papers start dancing.
But you kept your promise. You carefully laid on him, letting him wrap one of his arms around you. The only thing you did before closing your eyes was kissing the inside of his wrist, just like you did every night.
“Good night.”
“Good night, tulip,” he whispered and turned his attention back to his notes. He’d ace the test and then he’d get to hear the words ‘I’m so proud of you, baby!’ from your sweet lips. Then all the sleepless nights of studying would be worth it.
--
(21)
That couldn’t be right. There was no way that was right.
H.B.
Aaron would never forget the heartbroken look on your face when you saw those letters. The way your excited smile faded into an expression that went straight through his heart and made it bleed.
He was desperate to comfort you, but how could he find the right words to say when his whole world was crumbling in front of his eyes too? Every single dream, every single plan for the future, every single promise had vanished into thin air.
“These are not my initials,” you said quietly. You were still holding his hand in yours, staring at the new mark on his skin.
“Baby…” he whispered, cupping your cheek.
“No, Aaron,” you said, your eyes slowly filling with tears, “These are not my initials.”
Aaron pulled you into his arms as you broke down crying. You were holding onto him with a strength he didn’t know you had. He rubbed your back, trying to clear up his own thoughts.
How could the girl in his arms not be his soulmate? His best friend, his lover, his partner in everything? You were his family.
“I don’t care,” he whispered in your ear. “I don’t care what the mark says. You’re my soulmate.”
“I’m not,” you sobbed, pulling back so you could sit face to face again.
“You are. You’re the love of my life.”
“Apparently I’m not though,” you raised your voice. He knew you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at life. “God, Aaron, what the fuck? How could we have been so wrong?”
“We haven’t been wrong. I’m not gonna let an unknown fucking force decide who I’m spending my life with. You’re the one I want and I’m staying with you.”
“That’s not how it goes.”
“That’s exactly how it goes.”
You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, the way you always did to calm yourself down.
“Maybe we’re just meant to be friends.”
Aaron grabbed your jaw with his hand and pulled your face close to his, “Tell me when I was inside you earlier making you cry about how good you felt, did it feel like we were meant to be just friends?”
You wrapped your hand around his wrist and removed his hand from your face. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”
“That’s actually all that matters to me.”
A deep sigh escaped your lips. “What are we going to do, Aaron?”
“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, as long as we’re together.”
“This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”
“I know, my tulip.”
“It’s unfair,” you added, like a kid whose toy was stolen by their sibling.
“I know. But I love you, okay?”
“Okay.”
Aaron was grateful you let him hold you when he pulled you into a warm embrace. But it was impossible to keep the thoughts from running into dark places. Like the clear skin on your own wrist which would be soon stained with initials that weren’t going to be his either.
--
(21)
It felt like the mark on Haley’s wrist was mocking you.
A.H.
The two letters you had been craving all your life to have them written on your skin, were decorating her wrist instead.
Haley was beautiful, smart, popular. The perfect girl next door.
You and Aaron had met her in high school. She was staring in a school play he was forced to participate in because of a bet he’d lost. You got along with her pretty well, and so did Aaron.
Back then you weren’t worried over the way they both used to geek over Star Wars – which you simply couldn’t get into, no matter how hard Aaron had tried to make you love – during rehearsals. You weren’t worried when he’d invited her to his birthday party that year and you had noticed her eyes sparkle when he had played his favorite Beatles’ song.
Back then none of that mattered. Because back then, Aaron was your soulmate.
Yet you still couldn't hate Haley, because she was in pain too.
Her birthday only a month after Aaron’s had confirmed your suspicions that his soulmate was her. And you could relate to her heartbreak, when Aaron had to break the news to her. When he informed her that no matter what their wrists said, he was choosing you instead.
Neither of you truly had him, and in that way you understood her.
--
(21)
“Here.” You placed the hot cup of coffee you’d made for Aaron, next to his book.
“Thank you, honey,” he said, reaching out his hand to touch your waist under your shirt. With that motion he pulled you close to him, so you were standing right in front of his chair.
He wrapped his arms around you and your own hands got lost between his hair. Aaron left a tiny kiss on your stomach and looked up at you. “I’m anxious.”
“You’re going to do great. You’ve been studying non-stop for days now.”
“I don’t feel like I’m doing enough,” he admitted.
“You’re always so hard on yourself.” Your thumb rubbed the short hair on his temples as you kissed the tip of his nose. The nose kiss was followed by a soft one on his lips, before you pulled away again. “You’re doing more than enough. And I’m so proud of you.”
His dimples made an appearance and your heart smiled at your success. “There’s my boy.”
“Shut up,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. You could just pinch his cheeks every time you made him shy.
“Do you want me to help? We can go through some questions together. I’ll ask, you’ll answer.”
“Yeah,” he said, looking through his notes. “Haley gave me-”
At the realization of saying her name, he paused.
“It’s okay, you can mention her around me, I’m not gonna break,” you said, hoping you successfully hid the fact that you were annoyed.
He cleared his throat and continued. “Her cousin took the same exams last year, so she gave me his notes. He has written down all the questions that were on the test.”
“Good then. Let’s get to work.”
--
(45)
“Good night, buddy,” he whispered, leaving a sweet kiss on his son’s forehead. Jack usually replied with a ‘Good night, daddy,’ but he was already fast asleep.
As Aaron made his way to the living room in order to clear up the floor from his son’s toys, he heard a knock on his door.
He walked towards it as silently as he could, and looked through the peep hole; the fear of a possible intruder still poisoning his blood.
But the face he saw on the other side of the door took his breath away.
A face he hadn’t seen in years. A face he saw every night in his sleep.
He didn’t let a second more to pass before opening his door.
“Y/N?” he said in a breath.
Your eyes were red, and full of tears. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
tag list: @magical-spit @lilsunshine1092 @hiraethrhapsody @cult-of-enji-todoroki @emo-markie
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patrophthia · 1 year
Text
red ears, and redder strings | theodore n.
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pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
genre: red string soulmate!au, fluff, slight humor, slight very slight angst, confused feelings, unrequited love but also not really?, not beta read
wc: 7.2k
this is a request ! thank you anon!! it’s so cute i loved writing this :>
there’s two OC, one of them is named mark, hufflepuff (based off of nct mark, i love that lil canadian guy) and elio. i also wrote theodore based off of nct’s jaehyun and sungchan hehe.
taglist: @mersmoon @pleasingregulus @l--absinthe
"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."
"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let faith decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."
"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."
"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guards by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laugh at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."
Theodore won't admit it but he feels impress. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."
"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.
A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.
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Tug. Tug. Tug. Blaise has been tugging at Theodore's pinky for the last five minutes now. Doing it over and over just to get a rise out of the brunet. But Theodore, quite honestly, couldn't care less as he watched the string tied around his pinky finger bounce with each pull of Zabini's hand.
Blaise, like the menace he is, enjoys bothering his best friend by pulling at the red string of his, but seeing as he couldn't actually see the string, the Slytherin has settled with just laying on Theodore's bed and repeatedly pulling at his pinky which sported the string instead.
"Honestly Nott, why are you so against finding your soulmate? We both know they're in this school so why won't you just make the effort to find them?" Blaise asks, pulling at his pale pinky once more. "Here I am, balls deep into finding mine and I find out that they're all the way in Durmstrang. Do you realise just how lucky you are?"
"Zabini stop," their other dorm mate, Elio, tsked. "Maybe he's just not ready to find them yet."
Blaise turns from his position on Theodore's bed to look at Elio. Retorting, "or maybe he just doesn't want to find them?"
"And that's okay," Elio replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he has a reason."
Blaise's attention shifts back to Theodore. "And that is?"
Theodore clears his throat, "I just don't want one."
Blaise squints his eyes, "uh huh," he lets out in disbelief. "Somehow I don't believe that."
"Okay," he murmurs, "I just don't like the concept of soulmates."
"And that's all to it?" Elio asks, fixing his tie as he listens into Theodore and Blaise's conversation.
"Yes." And when neither Blaise nor Elio seemed to believe him, he added. "And I'm tired of people pretending to be my soulmate despite the fact that I could clearly see they aren't."
"People have done that?" Elio asked, perplexed at the complex.
"For the right price people would do anything." Theodore mumbled, and when he noticed that Elio was heading out the door, he asked. "Where are you going?"
"I'm meeting Mark at the library," Elio says with a blissful smile. "I'll see you at dinner."
When Elio finally leaves, Blaise turns to Theodore with a dumbfounded look. "Mark?"
Theodore feels his pinky being pulled once more. "His soulmate."
On the other side of the castle, Mark watches as I throw my head on the table —albeit, dramatically, a groan slipping from my lips. Mark giggles, his nose scrunching along with it as he asks me what was wrong.
I lift my left hand up and into his line of sight, his giggles turning into a full blown laugh as my pinky pulls itself over and over in the same direction. "They're doing it again?"
"They're doing it again," I mumbled, lifting my head back up to look at my finger. "It's so annoying. I'm going to punch their face in the second I see them."
"That's a bit extreme," Mark says lightly. "Just tell them to stop doing it or something."
"Why do that when I can result to violence." I replied, tugging at the string as a sign for them to stop. "They do it all the time, it's so irritating."
"Well at least you know they're close by," Mark states, going back to his book. "Or else you wouldn't be able to even feel their pulls."
"Yeah." I nodded. "I guess that's something."
"What?" Mark asks, sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Do you not want to find them?"
I shrug, "not really."
"Why not?" Mark follows up, abandoning his work completely.
"I just think that I shouldn't let the universe decide on who I spend the rest of my life with, is all," I say. "I want to make that decision myself."
Mark nods, humming, "I see where you're coming from." Understanding as ever. "But I also think it's nice that there's someone out there who will always be by your side no matter what, whether it be platonic or romantic, you know?"
"But that's not guaranteed, is it?" I counter. "I've heard stories where people found their soulmates but they didn't care for one another at all. I mean, at the end of the day, soulmates can't actually be soulmates if one doesn't reciprocate the other's feelings. So why try finding them at all if you're going to find out that they want nothing to do with you?"
"But what if they do," Mark argued.
"But what if they don't."
Mark sighs, "and if they do?"
"And if they don't—"
"Hi." I was cut off. "Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," says Elio, eyes wide and apologetic. "What were you guys talking about?"
"Soulmates actually," Mark says with a smile, his pupils dilating at the sight of Elio. "Why are you here?"
Mark and Elio found out that they were each other's soulmate on the train ride over. Elio couldn't find his friend's carriage on the Hogswart Express and we were lucky enough to have empty space for the Slytherin.
"I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," Elio says. "And I also wanted you to meet my friends."
Who were, if I remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.
"Oh," Mark glances at me, then back at Elio. "This afternoon?"
"Yeah," Elio nodded. And I sense that he wanted to add 'when else' but held back against it. "At the Slytherin table, Is that okay?"
"Sure," Mark says, nodding quickly. "I'll see you."
Elio breaks into a smile, bidding a goodbye as he turns on his heels. "You're coming with me," Mark says the second Elio was far enough to not overhear us. "No arguments."
Two Hufflepuffs sitting idly chatting with four well known Slytherins must've been a weird sight for anyone that passes by. But Mark was having a fun time and that's all that matters.
Or to me at least. Mark sat to my left, with Elio sitting opposite him. Zabini was on my right, with Malfoy in front of him; leaving Nott right in front of me.
"Are you taking potions?" Zabini asks, trying to make conversation, seeing as Mark and Elio were the only people in this table who actually knew one another.
"Yep," I replied, placing my utensils down. "Are you?"
"The four of us are," Malfoy snickered. "At least there's two more tolerable people in that class with us."
Glad to know Malfoy found Mark and I tolerable. "So . . ." I drew out, thinking of anything we could chat about. "What did you guys do this summer?"
"Blaise dragged us to Europe to find his soulmate," Malfoy answered bitterly.
"Oh." The better part of me was intrigued, wanting to know if he did find them. I turned to Zabini beside me. "Did you find them?"
"No," he says, a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Too many students at Durmstrang and too little time."
"Well there's always next year," I say, trying to encourage him.
Zabini hums in agreement. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"
Elio called out my name before I could answer his friend, and when I turned to him, he held out a goblet filled with pumpkin juice for me to take. Reaching for the glass, I felt a tug at my pinkie but paid no heed to it as I took the goblet from Elio's hand. Resting it on the table, my eyes caught onto a twinkle of red glowing right in front of me.
With furrowed brows, my line of sight found its way to the seat opposing mine, and along with it, the person who took the spot. Red string wrapped around his left pinkie, just like mine. Glowing slightly under the candle light.
Realisation settles in as I slowly look up at Nott, taking in his blank wide eyed expression that seemed to be processing the same information as I was.
Just to be sure, my hand reaches upwards to rub at my eyes before my vision falls back once more to my left pinkie, then the red string that connects me to the boy right in front of me.
Theodore Nott was my soulmate.
"Can you pass me the salt?" Malfoy asks Nott from his side, causing the brunet to break out of his trance.
Our eyes met for the briefest second, unspoken understanding warming up within me. And when Nott shifts his attention to where the salt currently resides, the tip of his ears shined as red as the string tethering us to one another.
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The Marauders map is a great stalker tool to have. I didn't have it per se, but I knew people who did and they were kind enough to lend it to me when I needed it. I owe Harry a favour for this.
My eyes glance between the footsteps on the map tagged: Theodore Nott, and the corridor in front of me. Trying to be as quiet as I could with each corner I turn, if I were to get caught chasing some guy who seemed to be coming my direction at eleven P.M at night then who knows the kind of punishment I would get.
Theodore was walking with purpose when I found him. He walked with enough purpose for me to need to jog after him just to catch up. A hand latches onto his wrist, pulling him into one of the many secret corridors Hogswart held.
"Hi," I said breathlessly, panting as I watched him decide between fighting or flighting. He seemed to have found me harmless, settling on just gazing down at me instead. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."
There were many things he didn't say, just observing as I tried to calm myself down. I noticed a few things then about him, he was tall, lanky even, his doe eyes and hair the direct contrast of his pale skin, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut through wood.
"Uhm—" I stood up to my full height and found that I had to peer up at him. Freakishly tall motherfucker. "—I'm not going to waste your time by beating around the bush, so I'm just going to spill it."
"Actually I needed to have a word with you," he murmurs. And I have to reel myself over because that must've been the first time I heard him speak.
"Well, I found you first so I speak first," I tell him with a tight lip smile. "You can speak after okay? Okay."
His eyes squinted and I could tell that he was frustrated with not being able to get his words in.
"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."
"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let fate decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."
"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."
"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guard by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laughed at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."
Theodore won't admit it but he feels impressed. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."
"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.
A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.
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Platonic soulmates. That's what Theodore and I decided on. Well not really, Theodore had brought up the idea of cutting our soulmate ties completely with a spell he'd found but the Hufflepuff in me couldn't actually go through with the idea so we decided on platonic soulmates. Or just classmates who are hiding a secret that would blow up in their faces if anyone found out.
Hogsmeade weekend came faster this year; Mark and I (along with four other Slytherins who'd found their way into our friend group) were lucky enough to make the trip.
It hasn't begun snowing yet, although the weather sure felt like it. The temperature was warmer this morning, which was why I found it unnecessary to bring my jacket, and now, in hindsight, I see that that was a terrible idea.
It was getting late, and the weather was not getting warmer at all. "Dude, are you okay?" Mark asks. Dude must sound weird to the other four pure bloods. But dude, to me, was Mark showing that he cared for me. "You've been shivering for the past five minutes."
"I'm fine," I say, a clear lie and we all know it. "I'll just cast a warming spell, don't worry."
Mark's brow furrowed, "are you sure? Here—" he shrugs off his coat, "—just wear mine."
I didn't have to look around to know that the four Slytherin were watching us. And under any other circumstances I would gladly take Mark's jacket, but that was a somewhat intimate thing to do. Especially in front of his soulmate, so, like the civilised person I am, I shook my head and cast a warming spell on myself.
"Dude stop being stubborn, you're literally freezing."
"And I look good doing it so just take your coat, Mark." I argued.
"Okay then." He sighs. "If that's what you want."It's not. Mark pulls his coat back on as he continues walking down the Hogsmeade streets with the rest of us behind him and Elio. "So where should we go next?"
A grasp on my elbow, takes my attention away from Malfoy's answer to Mark's question. I look down, finding slim hands holding onto me. My gaze trails upward to find Theodore who had halted both our steps as he shrugs off his coat.
The brunet nudges it forward, wordlessly offering it for me to take. And when I shook my head, feeling uneasy at the prospect of making him suffer the harsh weather if I did take his jacket. He insists: "It's fine," he says, nudging it forward once more, the red string on his pinkie clear as ever. "I run hot."
"And is cold blooded," Zabini snickered to receive a glare from Nott. I stifled a giggle, finally feeling at ease with the two of them. Zabini's demeanour seems to soften at my half assed attempt to hide a laugh, and tells me to: "Just take it."
Okay. Fine. I will take it. The cold was biting my ass anyways. I reached out for the jacket but was pleasantly surprised when Nott helped me into it instead. "Thank you," I murmured.
Theodore, or at least his coat, smells like a combination of things that I could only assume he likes; things like: the sea, books whether it be old or new, earl grey tea, bearded irises, and vanilla.
Nott only hums at my gratitude, listening back into Mark's conversation with Malfoy.
"You never did tell me whether you found your soulmate yet," Zabini says suddenly. "Have you?"
"No," I answered, and unlike earlier, he actually believes in this lie of mine. "And I'm not really looking for one either."
"Funny," Blaise says with a mischievous smile. "That's what Nott also said." Not exactly, but it was something along that line. "Are you sure you're not each other's soulmate?"
From the corner of my eyes, I spy the tip of Theodore's ears flushing. The pink contrasting his dark features adorably. His face showed no emotion, his brown doe eyes rolling with feign annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I'd know my soulmate if I saw them as often as I see her, Zabini."
"Wish it were that easy," I mumbled, adding onto the illusion of us not being tied to each other.  "I'll let you know when I find out who they are though."
"Really?" He says testingly.
"If you're so invested in it then yes."
He smirks, "let's hope you keep your promise then, princess."
Little did Zabini know, his promise had already been broken.
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Faith must've been playing some kind of sick joke. I knew that I'd be taking potions with the four Slytherin, but for me to be studying a love potion on the first day I had class with my 'soulmate' was just plain evil.
And I think, something along the lines of Professor Slughorn making Nott and I be the first to take a gander at the potion, to smell it and to describe what it smelled like to us, was even more cruel.
A glance at Nott, and another at the brewing pot in front of us, had me taking in a deep breath as I prepared myself for what's to come. I took a step forward, Nott to my side, and leaned forward to take a sniff at the potion.
The first round of scents were pleasant, home cooked meals, the smell of my clean room after a tiring day, my favourite snack and the likes of it. Then the second waft of the potion hits and I wondered whether it was what I was actually attracted to or what I was supposed to be attracted to since all I could smell was nothing but Nott.
Or at least the scent of his coat; sea salt, books, vanilla and a hint of his (what I think is) argan oil shampoo, which I assumed I could only smell because he was so close by.
"So?" Professor Slughorn egged us on with a smile. "Tell us what you smell."
Nott and I shared a look and I knew then that we could only smell one another. "The sea," I took the initiative to speak first. "Vanilla."
"Is that all?" Asks the Professor. "Is there a special someone you smell?"
Yes. Is what I didn't say, only shaking my head as I nudged at Nott's side for him to speak next.
"I'm sorry Professor but I couldn't really smell anything." Nott says barely above a whisper.
Professor Slughorn's furrowed his brows in concern. Did Nott not have something he loved? "Nothing at all?"
"Not really," the Slytherin murmurs. "I could only smell her."
Her?
Oh.
Me. I'm her.
Okay.
"Really?" Slughorn murmurs, clearly fascinated. "Well isn't that interesting?"
Nott only hums, moving away from the pot and as I turned with him, my eyes caught onto the pink tinged on his ears. Cute.
I couldn't even take a step towards my desk when Zabini swept me away, Malfoy by his side. Zabini smiles widely at my curious expression, and I wonder for a second if Nott has broken his promise and told them about our secret. Cautiously, I asked him. "What?"
"We need a favour."
"No." Was my first and final answer. Zabini only frowns, not the slightest bit faltering his quest. "I need you to steal Theodore away for a day." He says, instead. I shook my head, repeating myself, "No."
"Oh come on," Blaise pouts, "his birthday's this Sunday and we want to throw him a small surprise party."
"Which won't be a surprise if he was there," Malfoy adds unnecessarily.
"Why can't you be the one to distract him or whatever you're planning on making me do?"
"Because he'll suspect it," Malfoy answers with a roll of his eyes. "Nott's smart, he'll get suspicious of us."
"And he won't get suspicious of me?" I retorted.
"I haven't thought that through actually," Blaise murmurs. "But! We need all hands on deck to plan the party and fill it up with things he likes."
"And I can't help with that?" I ask.
Malfoy rolls his eyes. "What do you know about Nott?"
That he is my soulmate. But besides that, quite literally nothing. Okay. One point to Malfoy and Zabini, I guess. I sigh, slowly accepting my defeat. "What about Mark?"
"Mark's going to help us set up with Elio."
"Why can't you ask for the house elves to set it up for you?"
"Why can't you stop asking us questions?" Malfoy snaps.
I turn to the blond, my expression sour. "Hey you're the one asking me for a favour here, I don't think you can afford to be a bitch to me right now."
Malfoy rolls his eyes again, more attitude than ever. "So you're going to do it?"
"I never said—"
"Great!" Blaise cuts me off. "Have Theo out by ten A.M and have him back by six P.M, okay?" He says excited, and yet not loud enough for Nott, who had been sitting three desks away from our conversation to hear. "Okay! And if you guys do anything, please use protection we're way to young to have kids—"
"Oh fuck off." With a chuckle, Zabini finally leaves me alone, dragging Malfoy with him. With the two Slytherins no longer in sight, my eyes drift towards the only empty desk left and make my way towards it.
One, two, table passes, until I finally reach an empty seat and I find myself meeting eyes with Theodore. His face remains stone cold as ever, only looking at me blankly. He didn't have to say it for me to know that was curious about what his friends had said to me.
Setting my stuff down, I sat beside him and I found myself mustering up the courage to go through with Zabini and Malfoy's favour. "Hey," I start, Nott now giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to go out this weekend?"
His expression changes for the slightest second that if I hadn't been watching him, I'd have missed it. "I thought we agreed on keeping it platonic."
"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "And that's not going to change anytime soon. Think of this as us bonding as platonic soulmates."
He guessed he owed me that, which was why he stood outside of the Hufflepuff's Common Room idly, waiting for me to come out and get on with our soulmates bonding day.
A smile came across my lips when I spotted him, looking as out of place as possible. "Hi," I said, going up to him. Theodore didn't bother replying, only standing tall as he waited for me to lead the way.
The ride to Hogsmeade was awkward —as to be expected from two people who knew little to nothing about one another. Theodore climbed out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help me off of the ride.
Before we began our journey, Theodore caught onto my wrist with his right hand, his left reaching for his wand and wordlessly, he casted a warming up spell on me.
"Thank you." I'd be lying if I said that it didn't have an effect on me. "So where should we go?"
His lips pursed, thinking. "You didn't plan anything?"
"Not really." This favour was a last minute thing, I didn't have time to actually plan things out. "I thought we could just walk around and look at things."
Theodore wasn't the easiest to read, but I knew from the shift in his features that he was judging me. He then nudges his head to the side. "Let's get you something to eat."
Theodore took me to a bakery by the end of Hogsmeade, the shop was heavily vanilla scented, people coming in and out every second. Nott ordered a vanilla danish, then another when he looked at my face.
I ordered my pastries, and reached into my bag for the sickles I needed. Before I could actually get it out though, Theodore was already pulling me to the side, mumbling a "don't bother" as the next customer made their order.
I frown, handing out the few sickles I owed towards him, he took a glance at my hand, then back to my face. "What did I just say?"
"I can't just let you pay for me."
He didn't say anything, but his expression alone suggests that he won't be taking my money anytime soon.
"Seriously, dude, I can't just let you pay for me."
"Let's go," Theodore deflects, taking a parcel filled with our purchases when the shop's clerk handed it out to us.
I followed after him, not before attempting to shove my money into his pockets and failing to do so when he shifted away from me. "You're being rude."
"Oh I'm being rude?" Theodore scoffs, and I think that that must've been the first time I hear real emotions in his voice. "For paying for you?"
"Yeah," I replied. "Paying for someone is only nice when they want you to pay for them."
"Well," he murmurs. "What's so wrong with me paying for you when you want me to pay for you."
"Don't gaslight me!"
Theodore smiles at my word, a small laugh bubbling out of him. "I'm doing no such things." And then, he adds in a mocking manner, "dude."
What an ass.
I led Theodore towards The Three Broomsticks, if he wasn't going to take my money then I'll just have to get him something in return. I ordered two butterbeers as he began unwrapping our pastries.
He handed mine to me and dug into his vanilla danish. A minute passes, the two of us eating in silence and I wondered if I should've just taken him to a movie instead, maybe then it'd be less awkward.
The butter beer arrives and I took a sip, wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after. "You have a little something—" my finger points towards my upper lips "—there."
He made quick work in wiping it off, eyes casting down as he turned his head to pick up a tissue paper. His red ears made a reappearance then, embarrassed as ever.
After we finished our meals, Theodore excuses himself as he heads towards the bathroom. I think then that this was the perfect opportunity; I called out to one of the shop's clerks and when they approached, I asked for the check.
The shop clerk, an elderly lady, frowns, "what are you talking about, love? Your boyfriend already covered it."
What? "I'm sorry, you must've gotten me mixed up with another table, I haven't paid yet."
"No?" She frowns. "The brunet, pale, about ye height—" the woman gestures over her head "—isn't with you?"
With me, yes. Boyfriend, no. "Did he pay?"
"Yes," she smiles, "just a second ago really."
If I could scream out of frustration I would. I glared at Theodore when he returned, he seemed to know what had happened as he walked with pride.
"You're not as smart as you think you are," he says, grabbing his things. "I knew what you were thinking."
"Well." I stood up, gathering my things as well. "What am I thinking right now?"
"What an ass I am." Smart ass.
"Lucky guest." I murmur.
"Is it now?" He replied testingly, taking my things from my hands.
I squint my eyes, looking at him threateningly. "I will destroy you, Theodore Nott."
"I'd like to see you try." The amount of stuff in his hands made him look ridiculous, walking out of the inn with little to no expression at all when he adds: "soulmate."
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I returned Theodore to his friends by six, having snuck into the ladies room to send a patronus to Mark before doing so. Not a minute goes by when his patronus returns, a cheetah opening up its mouth to cheerfully say: "Okay dude, We're ready for you!"
I did what was asked of me and brought him to the room of requirements, Theodore trailed after me, clearly confused but never uttering a word about it.
Once we arrived in front of the door, I turn to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday?"
He blinks. "It wasn't important."
"Your birthday isn't important to you?"
"No." He murmurs. "Why are we here?"
I push the door open, and it takes him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Elio jumps out, Mark by his side screaming as loudly as they could "happy birthday!"
Theodore stares at them for a bit before turning to me, "is that why you spent the day with me?" He asks first. "They put you up to this?"
If I heard disappointment in his tone, I didn't let it get to me. Mustering up a small smile, I push him towards his friends. "Enjoy your party, Theo."
Elio and Blaise swept him away, pulling him towards one of the corners where the snacks were placed. My expression must've been telling, of what exactly, I didn't know. But Mark seems to notice it, asking me in a quiet hush. "Are you okay?"
I nod distractedly. "Yup, why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know," Mark frowns, "you look a little off."
I smile at him. Mark knows me better than I knew myself. "I'm fine," I reassured him, "just a little tired."
"Okay," Mark says, leaving it at that with a sceptical look. "Let's get you something to drink."
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"Was today just a ruse to get me away from the castle?"
Theodore had found me an hour after we arrived, looking distracted as ever when he handed over a slice of cake he'd saved for me.
"What?"
"You didn't actually want to bond with me, did you?"
I thought over my options, should I lie to him or just let him know the truth. Deciding on the latter, I tell him: "yeah, Zabini and Malfoy asked me to—" the clench in his jaw caught my attention "—wait, are you upset?"
Truthfully, Theodore says, "yes."
To say I was baffled was an understatement. "Why? What's wrong? Do you not like the party?"
"No," he counters. "It's not the party, the party's fine."
A beat passes by, Theodore hesitating. And then, finally, he says. "It's you."
"Me?" Have I done something to upset him? "Did I say something—"
"I thought you wanted to spend the day with me."
"I'm sorry." I'm not sure why exactly I was apologising but it felt like the right thing to do. "But to be fair, you didn't actually want to spend the day with me, did you?"
He avoids my eyes and I knew then that things can no longer be platonic. "I think you should leave before I do something idiotic."
"Like?"
"Kiss you."
How does one respond to that? His ears aren't red this time round. The look on his face is torn between hesitancy and distress. And I was stupid enough to reach up to him, a palm cradling his face, meeting his dark eyes.
A second passes and when he doesn't make to move away, I stand up to the tip of my toes and press my lips onto his. Theodore leans down, easing the strain of my neck as he kisses back without missing a beat.
A bump of the nose causes us to pull back, looking at one another with wide blown eyes before a subtle glow catches our attention. Tied to our pinkies, the string glows red, a shot of spark passing from his end towards mine only for it to lose its light when none comes from my side to ignite it.
What the spark means exactly, I didn't know. But I will not spend another second waiting around to see what it might meant. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, gathering my things. "Goodnight, Theodore."
I didn't know why I didn't notice it at first, but as I walked away, slice of cake in hand; the feel of plastic beneath the cake caught me off guard. I bring it into my eyesight, a vanilla danish neatly wrapped with a note attached to its side.
It seems like you've got me wrapped around your finger. Do me a favour and don't let it linger.
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Blaise had a theory. And that theory consists of his two friends who had yet to find their soulmates. Or so they say.
Gathered around the room of requirement were the same people who attended Theodore's birthday party, give or take five people less.
Blaise stands in the middle of the room, the rest of us lounging on the sofa as we watch him speak. "Come here you," he points at Theodore, then he turns to me, "you as well."
My nerves gets the better part of me, causing me to glance at Theodore for help despite knowing that we were both drowning in the same boat. Did Blaise know about us being soulmates? Did Theodore tell him about it? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.
"You two," he says loudly. "Have been lying to us!" And then, a few notches down, he adds, "I think."
My brows furrowed, feigning innocence. "How so?"
Like a magician, he lifts up his hand dramatically, then grabs Theodore's pale hand in it. And in my eyes, the string was as visible as ever. I think I know where he was going with this and there's nothing to prepare me for what's to come next.
"Pay attention to her fingers okay?" Blaise instructs. I feel faint, dizzy, all the adjectives for nauseousness as each second passes by. "Her soulmate pinkie to be exact."
This is it. This is when they find out and Mark hates me for the rest of his life because I didn't tell him I'd found my soulmate.
Mark frowns, his bottom lips caught in his teeth as he watches on sceptically.
Blaise pulls at Theodore's pinkie, the same exact motion he'd done on end for the last couple of months. And, just like it had before, my finger pulls to Theodore's direction. Blaise pulls at it again and the same set of motions repeats itself.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Elio spoke first.
"Well," I began, everyone's attention turning to me. "Because, it's not your fucking business." Mark stifles a laugh at my words. "Theodore and I chose to keep it a secret for a reason."
"And that reason is?" Malfoy chimes in.
I didn't have to say anything for Theodore to know what I wanted them to know. "We didn't want soulmates."
"And now?" Blaise follows up. "Do you still not want soulmates?"
"Honestly?" I say. "I don't know."
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It takes Theodore five seconds to note Mark's arrival at the Slytherin table. And it takes him another three seconds to notice that I wasn't there with them.
Mark chats animatedly with Elio, not once pausing to explain my lack of appearance at tonight's dinner.
Maybe they've grown too fond of me, or maybe Blaise likes me more than Theo thought he did, because he was quick to ask Mark where I was. "Doll's, not having dinner with us tonight?"
"No." Mark didn't even bat an eyelash at the pet name Blaise used. "She caught a cold and asked me to bring her something when I get back."
Theodore eyebrow's knit together curiously. "She's not in the infirmary?"
If the people at the table noticed the hint of concern in his voice, they didn't show it. Well —everyone except Mark that is. A gasp falls from his lips, staring at Theodore with wide eyes. Did he fancy his best friend?
Mark catches himself, shaking his head as he explained. "She said that it was just a common cold and that it'll go away soon. She didn't want to waste Madam Pomfrey's time when she could be focusing on something more pressing."
And when Theodore's eyes narrows. Mark feels the need to clarify himself. "Her words, not mine."
Theodore stands up then, excusing himself as he tells Mark not to worry about me and that he'll get something for me to eat. Mark didn't even get a chance to remind him about my meds before he slipped away and into the kitchens.
Mark didn't stress over it though, something in him knew that Theodore would not forget my medications.
A set of knocks lands on my door, approximately fifteen minutes later. And with a groggy "come in" from my bed; the door clicks open, Theodore standing behind it with a tray of food floating behind him.
"Theo?" I rub my eyes, unsure of what I was seeing. "What are you doing here?"
"Mark tells me you're sick." Did he? "So I brought you dinner." That's ... nice of him to do.
Theodore stands awkwardly by the door, not stepping an inch into a room. A part of me wonders if he was a vampire, waiting to be formally invited in before he could actually do anything. "You can come in."
The tray of food floats over first, resting just on top of my bedside table. Theodore follows in after it, staying a few feet away from my bed. "Wait, who let you in? Through the barrels and stuff?"
"No one in particular." He says. "They left the entrance open."
That was the hufflepuff way of doing things.
"Well thank you." My palm lays flat on my bed, pushing all of my body weight to a seating position. "For this. I know you'd rather spend the night doing something more fun than doing Mark a favour."
Theodore frowns, coming over to my side. "Mark didn't ask me to do this," he tells me; his hand carefully reaching for my arm, the other pressing against the small of my back to help me sit up properly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
My attempt to resist teasing him was futile, even sick and on the verge of dying, I still think that Theodore's reaction to things —if there was one that is— was adorable. "Awh, did you miss me?"
Theodore didn't bother to say no. He didn't have to, it was clear by the hesitant look on his face that he did miss me. Even if I'd only just seen him yesterday.
"You should eat," he says instead, the glimpse of his tinging red ears not missed by me when he handed me a glass of water. "Drink this, eat, then take your medications."
A roll of my eyes paired with an 'I know' has him standing straight. And somehow, I get the feeling that he thinks he might've overstepped my boundaries. Not knowing what to say —or do for that matter, I settled on telling him: "thank you, again. I really appreciate it, Theo."
Theodore hums and we could both sense that our conversation was ending, but, strangely enough, despite never knowing what to say in front of him, I can't seem to just let him slip away tonight.
A glance at the tray Theo brought, then another back at him, had me asking a question I might be regretting minutes later. "Have you eaten, Theo?"
His eyes fell down onto my hand, the floor, anything but my face. The corner of his lips twists, a small dent in his cheek barely hiding his attempt to bite back a smile. He knew where I was going with this. "No."
A shift to the side, a pat on the empty seat besides me. "Good." I say first. "We can share."
The string tied to our pinkie glows, and this time, unlike the first, the sparks meets in the middle, igniting brighter than it has ever done before.
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Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. And even more time for me to realise that me saying 'I don't know' complicates things. Everyone seems to be walking around eggshells when the topic of Theodore and I came up and quite frankly I'm fucking tired of it.
Theodore likes me. We're soulmates. This should be easy. I know how I feel, I can make things work.
Like feels childish. Love feels too strong. Infatuated is what I'm not when it comes to Theodore. I care for him the same way he cares for me. That should say something shouldn't it?
What I recently learned about Theodore is that he takes up an entire table at the library. Just him alone, and the whole table that would usually host four students all because he works in a mess.
"Uhm—" he looks up at me. "—can I sit here?"
He nods and turns back to his book. Not moving a single thing to the side. I sigh, organising his mess to one side and making a mental note to tell him off about it later. But for now, I ought to get my feelings sorted out.
"I wanted to talk to you," I say first. Theo hums, signalling that he was listening to me. "Can you look at me, please?"
He looks up from his page and shoved his book to the side, giving me his full undivided attention.
"I thought about it and I don't want to be platonic soulmates anymore," I tell him.
He looks in thought. "So you came here to say that you want to sever the soulmates connection?"
"No!" I say quickly, eyes wide. "No, not that. At all."
He seems to know what was going to come next, the corner of his lips turning upwards but he stops himself, not wanting to get too excited. "What is it then?"
"I care for you," I tell him. "And if you still care for me, I want to give this soulmate thing a shot."
His eyes soften. "Of course, I still care for you." He replies. "And I'm assuming by care you mean love?"
I pursed my lips, going over what I wanted to say and being careful with how I choose to phrase it. Finally, I decided on: "Not love per se," I say first. "Just us taking a step towards it."
" 'course not," he replies. "Baby steps, right?"
"Right," I say, feeling awkward under his gaze. "Baby steps." And then, I added. "Now if we're going to make this soulmate thing work out we need to actually go out."
He nods. "I'll take you to dinner on Friday then."
"Sure." A smile creeps onto my face. "It's a date." The tip of his ears reddens at my words, cute as ever. "I can't wait to see your cute little butt then."
Theodore fixes me a look between amused and judging, he breaks after a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Incredulously he says, "I can't believe I'm in love with you."
"Woah there dude, you're moving a little fast," I said with a small smile. "Slow it down a bit, will you?"
"Too late, my love." And if I had a small liking towards the guy, my feelings were definitely amplified by his stupidly dumb sense of humour. "I've already gotten your name tattooed on my buttocks."
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— from bee: i havent wrote in so long, this was so fun!! i always love writing theo so this was just a blast hehe
notes/reblog/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!!
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Honey Girl. Chapter Eight.
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chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter seven. series masterlist. the playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Turns out, you’re not the only ones with a secret.
Pairing - Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - cursing. mentions of hospitals/medical settings.
Word Count - 5k
Authors Note - I promise that the reveal was supposed to be in this part!! but I hit 5k words real quick and thought rather than rush it, I’d give it its full own chapter. guess what’s coming next ;). as always, thank you for your love and support and patience and encouragement and kindness. don’t know where I’d be without it <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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The sun beams through the white linen curtains, salty ocean breeze drifting through the open window. The rays warm your skin as you kick off the sheets, stretching your arms above your head. You turn over, to find the space next to you empty.
Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you yawn, inhaling the scent of breakfast. Throwing on Bucky’s soft blue button up, you pad out to the kitchen to find him at your stovetop, shirtless and sun kissed.
“I’m getting the full girlfriend experience, huh?”
He grins at the sound of your voice, entire body lighting up with it.
“Girlfriend,” he laughs. “This is the soulmate experience, baby. It’s even better.”
You shake your head, but you can’t fight the smile that etches itself on your face. He looks so at home here, so comfortable. He reaches up to grab a plate from your cupboard, and you feel the sudden urge to burst into tears.
He knows where everything is.
He’s learnt his way around the kitchen just like he’s learnt his way around your heart. Your soul. Your very existence.
“You okay?”
He turns off the burner and glides over to you, warm hands finding your hips like it’s second nature.
“What’s wrong? You like pancakes,” he teases, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead tenderly. “Oh no. Did you want waffles?”
You shake your head, swallowing down the lump in your throat.
“I’m fine,” you say, but your voice cracks instantly.
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
He says it so gently, so carefully. You feel like a precious flower, something to be taken care of, cherished, loved. No one has ever made you feel like this.
“I just realised you… fit, here. Like you were always supposed to. I can’t really remember what this apartment was like before it had you in it too.”
Bucky cradles your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him.
“Wherever you are. That’s where my home is.”
You surge forwards to press your lips to his, alive and buzzing with the electricity of being loved so wholly. He reciprocates instantly, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you closer, so you’re chest to chest.
“Your pancakes are going to burn,” you mumble, forehead resting on his.
“Let them.”
“No, don’t let them. I’m not calling the fire department today.”
He laughs, kissing you again chastely before returning to his original position. He plates up your breakfast - pancakes, fruit, granola and yoghurt, with fresh coffee in your favourite mug.
“I could get used to this.”
“And you will,” he flirts, kissing the crown of your head. “Every day for the rest of your life, baby. You’re gonna have to wake up to my face forever.”
You pretend to shudder, laughing when he pinches your side.
“Come on, trouble. Let’s eat breakfast on the balcony and pretend we’re on a tropical vacation somewhere.”
“Sounds perfect.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“We’re really doing this.”
You look up at Bucky, the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders acting as a grounding agent. Your plates are discarded on the table, cleared and finished, the two of you curled up in your loveseat. The sun is getting warmer, and it’s bringing out Bucky’s freckles, all boyish and glowy.
“We don’t have a choice.”
“Honey girl, there’s always a choice.”
“Not this time,” you sigh, shifting so you can face him properly. “I wanted to do this on our terms, and now I feel like I’ve been forced into it. It isn’t fair.”
“We can wait,” Bucky reassures, confident and understanding. “We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”
“I am ready. I have been for a while. It just sucks that it feels like I’ve been pushed in a certain direction, you know?”
“I know,” he soothes, work rough fingertips tracing patterns on your bare legs. “But like you said, we were going to do it anyway. This is still our choice. These are still our terms.”
You press your lips onto his cheek, chuckling when his stubble tickles your skin. He retaliates by attacking you with kisses, planting them all over your face, wherever he can reach. You squeal, hands flying out to his bare chest to try and stop him.
“Your neighbours are going to think there’s a murder happening,” Bucky laughs, fingers sliding up your shirt to rest on your ribs.
“Oh no, they love you too much for that.”
He quirks his eyebrows in surprise.
“They do?”
“The lady that lives next door, Mrs Daniels - she’s like ninety, has that white cat you always see?”
Bucky nods in recognition, so you continue.
“She talks about how handsome you are every time I see her. Always asks when the ‘man that looks like a movie star’ is coming over next.”
He laughs, shaking his head as you tease him.
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious! She probably watches you come and go from her balcony. She’s gonna love it in the summer, when you turn up in your short shorts with no shirt on.”
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into him and leaning his head on top of yours.
“Don’t be jealous, baby. You’re the only one for me.”
“I better be,” you chide jokingly, pinching his thigh in warning.
“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
There’s no humour, anymore. Just love. So much love.
“I’m here now,” you whisper. “And I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”
Bucky leans in to press a kiss to your lips, gentle and filled with a lifetimes worth of promise.
“I love you, honey baby.”
“I love you, Bucky Barnes.”
You let the morning sun slip over you like silk sheets, warm and smooth and completely luxurious. Bucky’s steady breathing grounds you slowly as peace and contentment settle into your bones, weighted and calming. No matter what happens today, you know one thing for certain - you have the security of Bucky’s love to fall back on.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You’ve been sat in Bucky’s truck for twenty five minutes.
It’s parked down the block from your parent’s house, just out of the way. You were pulling in to their street when you panicked, begging Bucky to stop the car so you could breathe for a second.
“Sweet girl, we’ll be fine.”
“I know. I know,” you exhale. Inhale again. “Why is this so hard?”
“Because we’ve been thinking about this moment ever since that first night.”
“It’s almost been a year.”
That seems to stop Bucky in his tracks for a second.
“It… it doesn’t feel that long. Feels like yesterday. But also, somehow, like I’ve loved you my whole life.”
You lean over the console to kiss him softly, trying to ignore the hummingbird fluttering of your heart in your chest.
“Honey, I can feel your anxiety, remember? If you don’t calm down a little, we’ll both collapse.”
“Sorry,” you laugh, taking a deep breath. “Sorry.”
Bucky intertwines his fingers with yours, thumb running over the backs of your knuckles. Soothing, like a field of lavender gently blowing in the breeze on the first day of spring.
“We have to do it sometime.”
“I know,” you nod, squeezing his hand once, twice, three times before pulling away and fixing your hair in the tiny mirror. “Let’s do this. Now or never.”
You pull up outside your childhood home, instantly relaxing a little at the sight of the colourful drapes and flowers in the windows.
“Shit, Buck. We haven’t even planned what we’re gonna say.”
“We don’t need to. Just speak from your heart, baby. I’ll follow your lead.”
When you walk up the driveway, you know there’s no turning back. You also know that the weight on your shoulders will feel a hell of a lot less heavy when you leave. It’s a double edged sword, but you’re ready to wield it, with love as your armour and Bucky as your shield.
You stand a foot apart and ring the doorbell, bouncing nervously on the soles of your feet.
“Hi, sweetheart. Oh - hey, Buck.”
“Hi, Mama.”
“Hi, Lori.”
“Didn’t expect to see you both today.”
You go to speak, but she continues quickly.
“I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk to you both about something. Come in, come in.”
You look at Bucky, realising suddenly that your chest is filled with a foreign anxiety. It’s his.
You squeeze his hand chastely as you walk past him to enter the house, kicking off your shoes in the hallway.
There’s something in the atmosphere when you walk into the living room. The sun is still shining, everything is in its rightful place… but it feels wrong. You know Bucky feels it too, judging by the way his muscles tense next to you.
“Is everything alright, Mama?”
You hate the way your voice sounds like a child’s, small and naive. Your Dad is sat on the couch waiting, always happy to see you. You press a kiss to his cheek before taking a seat across from him, Bucky sitting next to you. Your Mom joins your Dad, both of them looking at you with too much compassion for a normal day.
“What are you two doing here?” your Dad asks, voice still full of light.
Something inside of you is telling you to abort mission, postpone until further notice. You listen to it, wondering for a second if somehow you and Bucky can send messages to each other telepathically all of a sudden.
“Mama said you needed to talk to me. To us.”
He looks taken aback, only for a second. Something like sadness flashes in his eyes before he paints that familiar smile right back on his face.
“Yeah, we do. You sure you don’t wanna tell us why you’re here, first?”
“It can wait,” you reassure, catching Bucky’s minute nod from the corner of your eye.
“Okay,” your Mom begins. “First of all, I need to tell you not to panic, okay? It’s going to seem super scary, but it isn’t.”
Bucky slides closer to you by a millimetre, but you feel it like it’s a mile.
“I don’t really know how to tell you this, honey, so we’ll just start from the beginning. Jack?”
Your Dad nods before taking over the storytelling.
“It all started last year. I was doing some work in the backyard. One minute I was mowing the lawn, the next I was lying on the ground.”
All of the colour drains from your cheeks, and Bucky slides ever so slightly closer again.
“We thought maybe it was heat stroke, or dehydration. No cause for concern, and nothing your Mom’s iced tea couldn’t fix.”
She takes his hand in hers, both of them with their eyes fixed on you.
“But then it happened again. In the shower, this time. I didn’t hit my head, luckily, but I did whack my shoulder against the tiles, which hurt like hell.”
He laughs, and so does your Mom, but you’re not sure what’s funny. Anxiety is rolling off you in waves so strong, Bucky’s worried he might pass out.
Your Mom takes back the reigns, continuing.
“I was insistent that he saw a doctor, which he was reluctant about. Luckily, he agreed, finally,” she gives him a look, “and we got referred to a specialist.”
“What kind of specialist?” you choke out. It feels like someone is sitting on your chest, constricting your lungs with every passing minute.
“A cardiologist.”
It seems to be that word that unravels everything for you. All you can think is cardiologist heart attack cardiologist surgery cardiologist. Serious. Serious. Serious.
“Sweetheart?”
You grab Bucky’s hand, praying that the familiar touch will ground you back down to Earth. When it doesn’t, you feel like you’re falling, down and down and down with no end in sight.
“Honey, it’s okay. Hey, listen to me. You’re okay.”
Your Mom sits down on the other side of you as your Dad kneels down, forcing you to look at him.
“Sweetheart, don’t panic, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. I know it’s scary, but I’m okay.”
“For now,” you whisper, limp in your throat forming.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I know it’s probably not what you were expecting us to say. We thought we’d wait until we had answers to tell you… but it’s taking longer than expected. Which is why we’re telling you now. We don’t want you to feel like you’re in the dark.”
Bucky’s running his thumb over the lines on your palm, reassuring and steady. He knows exactly how to comfort you, like a warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders. If you listen carefully enough, you can hear the drumming beat of his heart. You tune into it, letting the familiar rhythm calm you down.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m being dramatic.”
“You’re not being dramatic,” your Mom responds, squeezing her hand over your knee. “It’s overwhelming. And we’ve just… thrown it at you, with no warning. It’s a lot to take in.”
You’re anxious and scared and completely lost. You’re also safe and home and completely surrounded by love from all sides.
“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a deep breath.
Your parents return to their couch across from you, but Bucky’s hand doesn’t let go of yours. If they think it’s strange, they don’t say anything. You have a feeling they’re a little preoccupied.
“Now what?”
“Your Dad is still undergoing tests to get to the root of the issue. Whatever they find, we know we’ll all be okay.”
“Your Mom’s right. I have an appointment this afternoon for an EKG. They’re trying to rule things out slowly. We’ll get to the bottom of it, sweetheart.”
“Are you okay?” you ask, suddenly realising you’ve accidentally made this about you.
“I’m fine,” he laughs. “Seriously. I know it’s scary, but I feel good in myself for the most part. The most annoying thing is that I can’t predict it - it just happens. Very inconvenient, if you ask me.”
Your parents laugh, and this time, you try to chuckle with them.
“You’ll keep us updated, won’t you?”
Bucky’s voice surprises you, somehow. His fingers are still intertwined with yours, but you’ve been so focused on your Dad, you almost forgot he was there.
“Of course, Buck.”
“And if you ever need a ride to an appointment or anything, all you gotta do is ask, alright?”
“You offering to take me on your motorcycle?”
“Sure,” Bucky laughs.
“Absolutely not,” your Mom says at the same time.
You chuckle for real, now. This feels like normality - the four of you, joking around. You have to remind yourself, sometimes, that Bucky knew your Dad before he ever knew you. You were away at culinary school when they met, but you were told stories instantly about this new guy in town who bought the old Garage and drives a cool truck. Your Mom, of course, didn’t fail to mention his big blue eyes and chocolate brown hair, or the way his shirt hugged his biceps. You thought she was exaggerating, when she said he was handsome.
Oh, how wrong you were.
You’re one hundred percent sure you’ve never met a more beautiful person. Maybe it’s your Tethering talking. Maybe it isn’t. You’re not unaware of the way people look at Bucky - he’s got this old school movie star thing going on, and people seem to eat it up. You get it. You get it more than anyone.
But it isn’t his pretty face that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s just him. Him, with his contagious smile and healing laugh and observant eyes. Him, with his confident demeanour but gentle touch, his mind reading abilities, his talent for making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. He’s a rarity, Bucky Barnes. A diamond in the rough. You remind yourself everyday how lucky you are.
He knocks his knee into yours, pulling you out of your daydream. He gives you a look that asks are you okay? to which you nod subtly in reply. A conversation, somehow both silent and loud.
“As much as I’d love to stay here all day, we should get ready to go. My appointment is soon.”
Your Dad strides over to you, wrapping you in his arms. You instantly feel like a little girl again, safe and protected no matter what. You bury your face into his chest a little more, inhaling the familiar scent of your home.
“Everything’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers into your hair. “Promise.”
You nod against him, tightening your arms ever so slightly. He gives you a squeeze, letting you know he got the message.
As you’re putting your shoes on in the hallway, you can hear your Dad and Bucky chatting away about the baseball game from the previous night, routine easily resumed. Your Mom brushes your hair back from your face, looking at you carefully.
“I almost forgot why you came here in the first place, babygirl. What’s up? What did you want to tell us?”
Your heart skips a beat and Bucky feels it, glancing over to you with concern in his ocean blue eyes.
“It’s okay, Mama. It can wait.”
She raises her eyebrows in scepticism.
“Promise,” you reassure. “Another day.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but lets it go anyway, pressing a kiss to your cheek gently.
“We’ll call you after his appointment and let you know what they say. We love you. So much.”
You hug her fiercely, realising that you don’t do it often enough.
“Love you guys. More than anything.”
Bucky gives you a nod that tells you he’s ready to go, both of you leaving a little different than you entered.
“Call us as soon as you get out of that room, okay?”
“We will, Buck,” your Dad laughs, mock saluting his best friend.
Bucky chuckles, falling into step next to you as you walk down the driveway. You make your way down the street, out of your parents view, before your knees give out. He manages to catch you just in time, strong arms wrapped around your middle. You both sit on the kerbside, Bucky rubbing soft patterns into your back through your shirt.
“Baby, hey. You okay? Talk to me.”
You take a deep breath, looking at him with watery eyes.
“What if it’s bad, Buck?” you whisper. “I can’t do this without him. He’s the best Dad in the world.”
Bucky pulls you closer, fitting you into his side perfectly. Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, made for each other.
“They don’t lie to you, honey. They’d tell you if it was really serious. All you can do is wait, and hope everything will be okay. Which it will.”
You rest your head on his shoulder, letting his warmth calm you down.
“My Mama knows something.”
“Like what?”
“About us. She didn’t say anything, but I could see it on her face. She didn’t push it any further, but she was definitely suspicious.”
“We’ll tell her soon. Give it a little more time.”
You nod, wrapping your arms around his bicep tightly. He presses a kiss into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he does it.
“Let’s go home, hmm? We can sit in the sun for a while, chop up that pineapple we bought yesterday.”
“Sounds perfect,” you whisper, looking up at him.
The afternoon hits his face just right, all warm yellow light and soft angles on his cheeks. The intermittent salty breeze ruffles his hair, all fluffy and sea swept. He looks like an ancient statue, a work of art from the renaissance, a museum piece. The sun could burn out tomorrow, but you’ll have a life source forever. Your Soulmate.
Bucky takes your hands in his and helps you to your feet, heavy arm slung over your shoulders as you walk back to the truck.
Your light in the dark. Your water in the desert. You’ve never been more grateful for him.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“Close your eyes.”
Bucky’s driving you home, the sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore a replacement for the radio.
“What?”
“Close your eyes, sugar. I want to show you something.”
“How are you gonna show me if my eyes are shut?”
He chuckles, pinching your thigh.
“Just shut up and close your eyes.”
You smile gently before doing as he says, covering your face with your hands for good measure.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”
You relax back into the seat, allowing the breeze from the open window to whip through your hair. Eventually you come to a stop, Bucky clicking off your seatbelt for you.
“Keep ‘em closed.”
Bucky sprints around to the passenger side, swinging open the door and wrapping his arms around you. He practically carries you out of the car, ensuring you don’t trip while you have no vision. He plants you on two feet, making sure you’re steady before he lets go of you.
“Okay. Open your eyes.”
You blink slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the afternoon.
You’re in the middle of nowhere. The two of you are stood on a huge, grassy plot of land, overlooking a small cove of the beach. You’re tucked completely out of the way, not a neighbour to be seen. All you can hear is the ocean, the birds, and the sound of your thumping heartbeat.
“Where are we, Buck? It’s pretty.”
He takes your hand, looking out towards the water.
“This is gonna be our house.”
Your head whips around in shock, confusion written all over your face.
“What?”
Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears it, clear as day.
“I bought this land years ago, when I moved to town. I always knew I wanted to build a place of my own, but I could never get the plans off the ground. Something didn’t feel right. And then our Tethering happened…”
He squeezes your hand tightly, pulling you into his side.
“And everything fell into place. I was waiting for the right moment to show you, and it feels like you needed it today.”
You can’t speak. You’re completely lost for words, looking out at the perfect view. Turning to him, you throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of it and inhaling.
“Thank you,” you murmur into his skin. “It’s so perfect. You’re so perfect.”
“I’m so lucky,” he chuckles. “My God, you were worth the wait. I’d wait another ten lifetimes if I meant I got to love you again for one of them.”
You’re glad he’s holding onto you, or you’re convinced your legs would give out. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, savouring the spearmint on his tongue.
“I love you,” you pray into his mouth. “I love you so much I can barely breathe.”
He kisses you back, harder, determined to show you exactly how he feels about you. Your fingers tangle into his hair, making him groan as you tug. His hands slide down to your ass, gripping harshly as he pulls you into his front. He wants every inch of you pressed together.
When you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours.
“You can have anything you want, you know.”
“Hmm?”
“With the house. I know we talked about it that night, at dinner in California. But if you think of anything else you’d like, all you gotta do is tell me.”
“One storey or two?”
“I was always thinking two.”
“Then I’d like a balcony, on the master bedroom. I love mine back at my apartment, especially in the summer.”
“Done,” he confirms, pecking your lips again.
“And a porch,” you whisper. “That we can sit on and watch the waves, when we’re old and grey.”
“I’ll be grey a lot sooner than you,” he jokes.
“You’re a lot more relaxed than me,” you laugh. “So I doubt that, actually.”
You rest your head on his warm chest, both of you swaying to the song of the ocean.
“We’ve got plenty of time, Buck.”
“All the time in the world, honey girl.”
The two of you stay wrapped in each other for a little while longer, enjoying the company of the one person you were destined for.
You can’t remember why you were ever so against soulmates. Loving Bucky is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on the balcony, letting the sun warm you from the outside in.
“Pineapple will always remind me of those margaritas,” Bucky smiles, throwing a piece into his mouth. “Our first date.”
“And last, apparently,” you laugh. “We haven’t been on one since.”
“I mean, we sort of date everyday, right?”
“Yeah, I guess we do. After we’ve told my parents, we don’t have to worry anymore. We can go out whenever we want, whenever we want.”
“Exactly,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. “Not long now.”
The sound of your phone ringing startles you both, your hand flying out to find it in the cushions of the loveseat.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank God. I half thought you were dead.”
“Not dead, Lacie. Just busy.”
She laughs, and you realise suddenly how much you’ve missed that sound.
“You’re back in town, right?”
“Yeah, just for a few more days. Then I’m gonna go back to Cali and pack up my stuff for good.”
“Perfect! Me and you are doing dinner tomorrow night. I want you to meet Cameron.”
“Really? Finally! I’m so excited, Lace. Your place, or are we going out?”
“Come to mine. Cam is the best cook, seriously. I’ve gotta run, we’re picking out a couch today. A couch, babe! Can you believe it?”
“Happy couch shopping, you two,” you laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you, bestie! Bye!”
You can’t help but smile when you hang up the phone.
“She’s gonna love having you back home again, isn’t she?”
“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait to see her more. I know she’s been so busy with her soulmate and me with work and with you, but I miss her like crazy. We text all the time, but it isn’t the same.”
“She knows about us, right?”
“Yeah,” you giggle. “She was the first person I told.”
“Thought so,” he laughs, pulling you back into his side. “Knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it from her for long.”
“She can practically read my mind. It was easier to avoid the truth over the phone, but the minute I saw her in person, I crumbled. She gives me this look, and I’m done for.”
Bucky chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“I can’t wait to get to know her properly.”
“Oh, she’s gonna love you.”
“I hope so.”
“She will, trust me. She used to talk about how hot you were all the time. Pre-Cameron, of course.”
“I’m glad you’re finally getting to meet him.”
“Me too. I feel guilty, you know. It was the biggest moment of her life, and all of a sudden I’m up and leaving across the country, barely keeping in touch through scattered text messages. I was so wrapped up in you and in work, that I wasn’t there for her like I should have been.”
“I’m sure she’ll understand if you say this to her, honey baby. You have to remember that her Tethering was a lot less complicated than ours. They just got on with things, as easy as can be.”
“I guess you’re right,” you murmur into his chest. “I’ll tell her all of this when I see her tomorrow.”
He wraps both arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. You relax instantly, the warmth of his skin and familiarity of his touch soothing you like melted honey.
Your phone rings again.
“I bet it’s Lacie moving the plans around,” you chuckle. “She always underestimates how long it takes her to get everything ready.”
You find your phone from under the cushion and answer it.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Mama?”
“Where are you?”
The sun disappears behind a cloud, sending a shiver down your spine.
“I’m at home.”
“I need you to go and get Bucky, and come to the hospital.”
Your heart stops in your chest, and Bucky has to breathe for the both of you.
“Why?” you ask, barely above a whisper.
“I’ll explain when you get here, but it’s more serious than we thought.”
She sounds scared, which in turn terrifies you. She’s the bravest person you know, your Mom. If she’s afraid, you know it’s bad.
“Okay,” you choke out. “I’m leaving right now. I, uh, I’ll get Bucky, and - do you need anything? Does Dad? I can bring whatever… whatever you need, what do you need?”
“Nothing, baby girl. Just you guys, for now, okay?”
“Okay. Yeah, okay. I, uh, I- I- I’ll leave right now. Where is he?”
“Follow the signs for Cardiology when you get here. Room 4.”
“He’s in a room? In a bed? Mama, please. What’s happening?”
You’ve never heard your voice sound so weak. You’re kicking yourself internally - you have to be strong for her. You need to be.
“Baby, just get here as soon as you can, okay? Get Bucky to drive. I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.”
You try to hang up the phone, but your hands are shaking so much that you’re unable to press the red button. Bucky does it for you, intertwining your fingers with his.
He pulls you to your feet, smoothing your hair back from your face.
“It’s all going to be okay, honey. Put your shoes on and grab your purse. I’ll get my keys.”
He kisses your forehead gently, letting his lips linger for a second before pulling you inside and shutting the balcony door.
He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time, even as you drive to the hospital.
You feel like you’re drowning. Repeatedly slipping beneath the surface of the water, lungs heaving, desperate to stay afloat.
Bucky feels it, too. All he can do is hold your hand and hope for the best.
All he can do is hold your hand and hope for the best.
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