#why did i decide to write a soulmates au?????

[carlossainzlusciouslocks]

Who are you?

Oscar Piastri x reader

Soulmate au

You can hear your soulmate speak but only after you have met them.

Summary: Oscar Piastri hears an unfamiliar voice during a race and thinks he is going crazy.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Attempt at humour (idk if that counts as a warning 😭), Change of POV, No use of y/n or any pronouns for reader.

Note: I really hope you like this one. This took me AGESSS to write cause I kept losing motivation to finish it whoops 😬 I did NOT proofread this so please let me know if I have made any mistakes

Part Two

Oscar was already sat in the car, surrounded by mechanics, having already done his formation lap.

"Radio check" Oscar heard his race engineer, Tom Stallard, say.

"Loud and clear" Oscar replied.

"Lights out in 5 minutes" informed Tom.

"Copy" Oscar said, voice neutral, focused.

The lights had gone off. The race had started. Oscar pushed his foot to the floor and sent the car flying around the first corner. He raced ahead of the other cars, wresting his own car so that no one could pass him. He managed to keep pole position even as the race progressed.

Pit stops. They were always the thing that could cost you pole position. But that was not the case, in this race, for Oscar. McLaren had decided to undercut the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc by pitting Oscar early and it worked!

Just as Oscar was leaving the pits he heard it. A voice.

"Ugh I can’t believe that McLaren are undercutting the Ferrari’s. Ferrari really needs to fix their strategy"

Who was that? Oscar had never heard that voice before. Why was he hearing voices? Whose voice was that?

"Hello?" Oscar said, confusion evident in his voice. There was no reply. He pressed his radio button.

"Tom, did you say something?"

"Nope" Tom replied.

"I heard a voice" Oscar stated.

"A voice? Whose voice?" Tom questioned.

"Yes. A voice. I don’t know whose voice." Oscar snapped.

"Maybe the radio is broken. Just focus on the race and we will get back to you about the radio." Tom said, trying to get Oscar’s attention back onto the race and away from the strange voice.

"Yeah maybe." Oscar said in a noncommittal tone.

Oscar didn’t hear the voice again until a few laps later when he heard,

"Oh my god. No! Alex just crashed!"

There it was again. The voice.

"Who are you" Oscar said quickly. Almost as if he was scared the voice would disappear.

"Who is talking? Are you talking to me? Who are you?" the voice replies.

"Yes I’m talking to you. Who are you?" Oscar said, irritation evident in his voice.

Your day started very differently to Oscar’s.

You had been gifted paddock passes to the Spanish Grand Prix by your best friend Alfie. He knew how much you loved Formula One but he also knew how you couldn’t afford tickets to go to a race. Which is why he bought the tickets for you.

When you found out that Alfie had bought you tickets to a Formula One race, you were fuming.

"No. It’s too much. I can’t accept these tickets from you. They are too expensive" You shoved the tickets back into Alfie’s chest.

"Please take the tickets. I’ve already bought them. I’ll be going with you anyway so it’s not like I’ve gone out of my way or anything when I bought them"

"Yeah but it makes me feel like you pity me because I can’t afford it" you shouted.

But now that the day was here and that you were already in the paddock, you felt glad that you had accepted the tickets from Alfie.

You had made sure to get to the race track as early as you could in the hopes of seeing one of the drivers and getting a picture with them. You really wanted to see Alex Albon, he was your favourite driver.

The paddock had been busy from the moment you arrived. Mechanics left, right and centre. Influencers pushing you out of the way, thinking that they are more entitled to be there than you are because they have an online presence. You were constantly being pushed and shoved by people walking past you.

You had just taken a photo outside of the Williams garage and had started to make your way back onto the bustling race track when someone walked past you and knocked you onto the floor.

"HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU ARE GOING" You yelled after the person who pushed you. You didn’t get a reply, or an apology. All you got was a sore behind, after falling onto it.

Alfie reached his arm out, you grabbed it and he pulled you up off of the floor.

"That was rude." Alfie said.

You nodded.

"Let’s not let it ruin our first in person Formula One race though" you said trying to lighten the mood, and ease your embarrassment. You were pretty sure that your fall had been caught on multiple cameras.

You and Alfie made your way to the grandstands where you would watch the race from. You watched the cars pull away from the starting line and race around the first corner. You had been on the edge of your seat since the lights went off.

The first few cars were starting their 37th lap when you saw Oscar Piastri dip into the pits at the last minute. You had to watch the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc completely miss the opportunity to pit at the same time as Oscar.

"Ugh I can’t believe that McLaren are undercutting the Ferrari’s. Ferrari really needs to fix their strategy" You said, throwing your hands up into the air and shaking your head.

"Hello?" You heard an unfamiliar voice say.

You stilled. Body stiffening in confusion and shock.

You heard the voice speak again but you couldn’t understand what he was saying. Your ears were ringing. You knew who was speaking. You knew that it was your soulmate.

They had to be here. Your soulmate had to be here. You had to have met them today, at the race. You immediately stood up from your chair and started frantically searching for someone that you would remember meeting throughout the day. Someone that could be your soulmate. You didn’t recognise anyone sitting around you.

"HEY! SIT DOWN!" Someone yelled.

Reluctantly, you sat back down.

You had always wanted to find your soulmate, even from a young age. You used to love reading stories about people finding their soulmates. You read every single book there was about soulmates. How they found each other, what their soulmate systems were and how every soulmate could have a different soulmate system. You were counting down the days until you could finally meet your own soulmate and today, of all days, was the day.

You tried to focus on the rest of the race, putting the idea of your soulmate being at the same race as you, out of your mind.

"What was that? Are you okay?" Alfie asked. You brushed off his worries and told him that you were fine. With that, he turned and focused his attention back on the race track.

You had forgotten all about hearing your soulmate. You had told yourself that it wasn’t them and that you were just hearing things.

"Oh my god. No! Alex just crashed!" You shouted, grabbing Alfie’s arm.

"Who are you" There it was again. The man’s voice. Your soulmate’s voice.

Who is talking? Are you talking to me? Who are you?" You replied, voice trembling slightly.

"Yes I’m talking to you. Who are you?" Your soulmate said, irritation evident in his voice.

"I’m your soulmate" You replied hesitantly.

"Oh" his voice said, shock more than evident in his voice.

"That means what? That we met today? That we are in the same place?" He questioned.

"Yes. I’m guessing you are a Formula One fan too" You joked, hoping to lighten the mood and break the ice between the two of you.

"Haha yeah. Listen, do you think we could talk later? It’s kinda difficult to talk right now" he said, sounding slightly out of breath.

Then it clicked. You knew who your soulmate was.

He must have been a Formula One driver.

Oh, it was all starting to make sense now! You heard him say something about a radio a few minutes ago but you didn’t think that it would be about the radio in a Formula One race car. You just assumed that he was out of breath because he was running to get to the race track whilst the cars were still driving around.

Wait. You hadn’t met any Formula One drivers in person. It couldn’t be one of them. Unless you accidentally bumped into them when you were both walking through the paddock. Your head was spinning. You could feel a headache forming behind your eyes. This was all getting a bit too real too fast.

"Are you okay?" Your soulmate said, worry clear in his tone.

"What do you do for a living?" You asked, quickly. Completely ignoring his previous question. You couldn’t help yourself. You just had to know.

"Ermm oh Ermm why?" He asked. Clearly stunned by your outburst.

"Please. I just need to know. Please" you pleaded, desperately.

"I am a Formula One Driver" he said reluctantly.

"Oh god." You said breathlessly.

"I don’t even remember meeting you. I don’t remember meeting any formula one drivers today" you said, your brows furrowing.

"I don’t know who you are talking to but I know for a fact that you have met a Formula One driver today" Your friend Alfie interrupted.

"Excuse me?" You said. Eyebrows raising as high as your hairline.

"Yeah. I thought that you knew" Alfie said as if it was obvious.

"No?" You questioned.

"Yes! A Formula One driver knocked you over when we were walking through the paddock and you fell onto the floor. You even shouted at him and everything!"

"WHAT? No. That can’t be possible. That idiot that pushed me over was my soulmate?!"

"What are you talking about? Are you talking to me?" Your soulmate asked.

"Oh god. I remember that! I remember! You walked into me and fell onto the floor. I tried to apologise but I got pulled away because I was going to be late for the national anthem" He said, realisation clear in his voice.

"Oh god. That’s so embarrassing!" You said, completely mortified.

You just heard him laugh. The two of you didn’t speak after that. You were too busy drowning in your own embarrassment.

The leading cars were already starting their last lap of the race. Oscar Piastri in pole position, Charles Leclerc in p2 and Carlos Sainz in p3.

You didn’t hear from your soulmate again until you watched the cars pull into part ferme.

"Listen, I want to see you after I’ve finished my media duties. We have already met once today so why not meet again?" His voice said hopefully.

"Oh. Erm. Are you sure? You don’t even know me. We have spoken for two seconds." You said, anxiously.

You looked down at your clothes, questioning if you were well dressed enough to meet your soulmate.

"Yes, I’m sure! I want to meet you. Get to know you better in person. I travel a lot and this may be the best time to meet" he said, honestly.

"Oh okay then. Let’s meet." You said shyly.

"I’m Oscar by the way. In case you didn’t get that" The man, Oscar, joked.

You told him your name.

"Hmm" Oscar said thoughtfully. "It suits you" he said decisively.

You and Oscar decided that you would meet outside of McLaren’s hospitality. You got there whilst Oscar was still doing his media duties. You were the only person waiting outside. The crowd of fans bustling past you as you waited for your soulmate to arrive.

"Excuse me? You can’t wait here. You’ll have to move" you heard a voice say. You turned around and came face to face with a man in a McLaren shirt, clearly someone who worked for the team.

"Oh sorry. I didn’t know. I’m just waiting for someone" you said, starting to move away from the hospitality building.

"Yeah well, wait somewhere else." The man said, in a rude, snotty tone.

"Hey!" You heard another voice. His voice.

"I’m almost at hospitality now. Where are you? Are you still there?" He asked.

"Yeah I’m still here. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here for though. I’m being ushered away by someone from your team" you joked.

"What?" A voice said.

You turned around again, the McLaren worker still chirping away, angrily, behind you. It was Oscar. And he was running up to you.

He stopped just before he got to you.

"Is everything okay?" Oscar asked, not taking his eyes off of you. Looking you up and down, making sure that you weren’t hurt.

"Oh yeah. Everything is fine. Don’t worry about it!" You nodded.

He pulled you away from the hospitality building and started pulling you towards his driver room.

The two of you didn’t speak again after that. Allowing yourselves to bask in the comfortable silence that had settled between you. Once you got to his driver room, he pulled you inside and licked the door.

"Hi" he said breathlessly.

"Hello" you replied, looking down at your feet.

You heard him step closer to you.

"Can I hug you?" He whispered. Almost as if he was worried that if he spoke any louder, it would scare you away.

You nodded. His arms wrapped around you and he pulled you to his chest. You let out a deep breath. It felt as though you hadn’t been breathing properly your entire life but now that you were in Oscar’s arms, you could finally breathe.

He smelt nice. Better than nice. He smelt amazing. Which is relatively surprising considering he had just won a Formula One race. He smelt of soap. He smelt like home. You tensed. That thought scared you. A lot. You had only just met him and your brain was already telling you that he was your home? He was your soulmate. Maybe that’s what being a soulmate was. Them being your home. Your other half.

You both pulled away from the hug. Your arms still wrapped around each other.

"I can’t believe you are here" you heard Oscar mutter under his breath. "I can’t believe you are real"

"Why would I not be real?" You whispered back.

"I’ve been waiting for you my entire life and you are finally here"

[pucksandpower]

To Hell With Duty

Lewis Hamilton x soulmate!Reader

Summary: you’ve always known that being Princess of the UK means that a soulmate is a luxury you can’t afford … but then you meet your soulmate and decide that some things are worth turning your back on duty for

Warnings: abusive family dynamics

Note: I promised to write something in honor of Lewis’ win and this was born (now I’m tempted to make a soulmate AU series)

The sun blazes overhead as you step out of the sleek black car, your designer heels clicking against the pavement. The roar of engines and the excited chatter of the crowd at Silverstone envelop you, but you can barely hear them over the pounding of your own heart.

“Your Royal Highness, this way please,” a smartly dressed aide gestures towards the paddock area.

You nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. As you walk, you absently rub your wrist, feeling the slight raised bumps of your soulmate mark beneath the carefully applied concealer.

“I wish you didn’t have to hide it,” your best friend and lady-in-waiting, Sophie, whispers beside you.

“You know I don’t have a choice,” you murmur back, glancing around to ensure no one overheard.

The memory of your brother’s ordeal flashes through your mind, as vivid and painful as the day it happened ...

“No, please! You can’t do this!” Edward’s anguished cries echoed through the palace halls.

You huddled in your room, hands pressed over your ears, trying to block out the sound. But nothing could drown out your brother’s screams as the royal physician burned away his soulmate tattoo.

Later, when you snuck into his room, you found him curled up on his bed, cradling his bandaged wrist.

“Eddie?” You whispered, your voice small and frightened.

He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy. “Y/N ... I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

You climbed onto the bed beside him. “Why did they do it? Why can’t you be with your soulmate?”

Edward sighed, pulling you close. “Because we’re royals, little sister. Our marriages are about duty, not love. Soulmates ... they’re a luxury we can’t afford.”

“But that’s not fair!” You protested.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, his voice hollow. “But it’s the price we pay for our position. Promise me something, Y/N. If you ever find your soulmate ... run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

The memory fades as Sophie gently squeezes your arm, bringing you back to the present.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern etched on her face.

You take a deep breath, straightening your shoulders. “I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the carefree laughter and excitement around you. Everywhere you look, people are proudly displaying their soulmate tattoos, some comparing them with friends, others stealing glances at strangers, wondering if today might be the day they meet their perfect match.

“Your Royal Highness,” a race official greets you with a bow. “We’re honored to have you here today. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the VIP area.”

You nod, allowing yourself to be led through the crowded paddock. The official drones on about the day’s schedule, but your mind wanders.

“What do you think your soulmate is like?” Sophie had asked you once, years ago, when you were both giggling teenagers.

“I don’t know,” you had replied, tracing the words on your wrist. “But I hope they’re kind. And funny. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just my title.”

“You’ll find them one day,” Sophie had said confidently. “And when you do, it’ll be magical.”

Now, surrounded by the bustle and excitement of race day, that conversation feels like a lifetime ago. You’ve long since resigned yourself to the fact that you’ll never meet your soulmate. Even if you did, you could never act on it. The risk is too great.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the figure rounding the corner until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, stumbling backward. Strong hands grip your arms, steadying you before you can fall.

You look up, an apology on your lips, and find yourself staring into the most captivating brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Time seems to stand still as you gaze at each other, the world fading away around you.

And then he speaks, his voice low and warm.

“Whoa there, careful Princess. I’ve got you.”

***

Your heart stops as Lewis’ words sink in. They’re an exact match to the tattoo hidden beneath layers of concealer on your wrist. For a moment, you’re frozen, lost in his warm brown eyes, your mind reeling with the implications of what just happened.

Then reality comes crashing down. You can’t do this. You can’t put him in danger. You can’t risk the pain your brother went through.

“I ... I have to go,” you stammer, pulling away from his gentle grip.

Lewis’ brow furrows in confusion. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

But you’re already backing away, panic rising in your chest. “I’m sorry, I can’t ... this isn’t ... I have to leave.”

You turn and run, pushing past startled onlookers, your heart pounding in your ears. Behind you, you hear Lewis call out.

“Princess, wait! Your words ... they’re on my wrist!”

You falter for a moment, his words piercing through your panic. But no, it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. You keep running.

“Y/N, please!” Lewis’ voice is closer now. He’s chasing after you. “I know you felt it too. We need to talk about this!”

You duck around a corner, trying to lose him in the maze of the paddock. But Lewis is faster, more familiar with the layout. He catches up to you in a quiet area behind one of the garages.

“Princess,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Please, just hear me out.”

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill. “You don’t understand. We can’t do this. My family ... they’ll never allow it. They’ll hurt you, or worse.”

Lewis takes a cautious step closer. “What do you mean? Why would your family hurt me?”

“Because you’re my soulmate!” The words burst out before you can stop them. “And royals aren’t allowed to be with their soulmates. It’s all about duty and arranged marriages. They ... they burned off my brother’s mark when he found his soulmate.”

Lewis’ eyes widen in horror. “That’s barbaric. They can’t do that to you.”

You laugh bitterly. “They’re the royal family. They can do whatever they want.”

“No,” Lewis says firmly. “They can’t. Because I won’t let them.”

You look at him, confused. “What?”

Lewis takes your hand gently, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Y/N, I’m not just British. I’m also a Brazilian citizen. And in Brazil, there are laws protecting soulmates. If we’re truly matched, which I believe we are, you automatically gain Brazilian citizenship too. Your family can’t touch you there.”

Hope flares in your chest, but you quickly squash it down. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll find a way. They always do.”

“Not this time,” Lewis insists. “Look, I have a race to drive soon, but after that, we can fly to Brazil immediately. I’ll keep you safe until then.”

You shake your head. “It’s too dangerous. If they find out ...”

“They won’t,” Lewis promises. “My driver’s room is private and secure. You can hide there until after the race. No one will think to look for you there.”

You hesitate, torn between hope and fear. “I don’t know ...”

Lewis squeezes your hand gently. “I know we just met, but I’ve been waiting my whole life to find you. Please, give us a chance. Let me protect you.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Slowly, you nod. “Okay. But we have to be careful.”

Relief washes over Lewis’ face. “We will be. Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

He leads you quickly through the paddock, taking care to avoid busy areas. You keep your head down, heart racing every time you pass someone. Finally, you reach a door marked with Lewis’ name.

“Here we are,” he says, ushering you inside. “Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone but me. I’ll knock three times, pause, then twice more. Okay?”

You nod, taking in the small but comfortable room. “Okay. But Lewis, what about your race? You can’t miss it because of me.”

He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll race, and then we’ll leave right after. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if something goes wrong? What if they find me?” The fear creeps back into your voice.

Lewis takes your hands in his, his touch grounding you. “Hey, look at me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. We’re soulmates, remember? That means we’re in this together now.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he says softly. “But you’re also incredibly brave. You’ve lived with this fear your whole life, and you’re still standing. We can do this.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other for all of ten minutes and you’re already saying ‘we’?”

Lewis grins. “Well, that’s what happens when you meet your soulmate, I guess. Everything changes in an instant.”

You laugh softly, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Listen,” Lewis says, his tone turning serious. “I know this is all happening very fast, and I don’t expect you to fall in love with me right away or anything. We’ll take things as slow as you want once we’re safe. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and determination. Slowly, you nod. “Yes, I think I can.”

“Good,” Lewis smiles. “Now, I have to go get ready for the race. Remember, three knocks, pause, then two more. Don’t open for anyone else.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “Be careful out there, okay?”

Lewis’ smile widens. “Always am, Princess. I’ll see you soon.”

As he leaves, you lock the door behind him, your heart still racing. You sink onto the small couch, trying to process everything that’s happened in the last hour.

You’ve found your soulmate. After years of hiding your tattoo, of living in fear of it being burned away like your brother’s, you’ve actually met the person whose words are etched on your skin.

And not just any person. Lewis Hamilton. World-famous driver, activist, and fashion icon. You’ve seen him on TV, of course, admired his skill on the track and his passion for social justice. But you never imagined ...

You rub your wrist absently, feeling the slight raised bumps of your mark beneath the concealer. For the first time in years, you allow yourself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of.

But doubt creeps in. What if Lewis is wrong? What if Brazilian citizenship isn’t enough to protect you from your family’s influence? What if they find you before you can leave?

You pace the small room, alternating between hope and fear. The sound of engines revving in the distance tells you the race is about to start. You find yourself holding your breath every time you hear footsteps pass by the door, terrified it might be palace security coming to drag you away.

Time crawls by agonizingly slowly. You try to distract yourself by watching the race on the small TV in the corner, but every time the camera focuses on Lewis’ car, your heart leaps into your throat. You silently urge him to be careful, to finish the race quickly so you can escape.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear it. Three knocks, a pause, then two more. You rush to the door, your hand hesitating for just a moment before you unlock it.

Lewis slips inside quickly, closing and locking the door behind him. He’s still in his race suit, his hair damp with sweat.

“Are you okay?” You ask immediately. “How was the race?”

Lewis grins. “I’m fine, and I won. But that’s not important right now. We need to go.”

He grabs a bag from a locker and starts shoving clothes into it. “I’ve arranged for a private jet to take us to São Paulo. We need to leave now, before anyone realizes you’re missing.”

You nod, your heart racing again. “Okay. What do we do?”

“I’ve got some clothing here that might fit you,” Lewis says, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants. “Put these on over your clothes. We’ll need to be discreet getting to the airport.”

As you change, Lewis continues talking. “Once we’re in Brazil, we’ll be safe. There are strict laws protecting soulmates there. Your family won’t be able to touch you.”

“But what about your career?” You ask, suddenly realizing what he’s giving up. “You can’t just leave everything behind for me.”

Lewis pauses, looking at you intently. “Y/N, you’re my soulmate. That means you’re more important than any career, any amount of fame or money. We’ll figure out the details later, but right now, keeping you safe is all that matters.”

His words make your heart swell. You’ve never had anyone put you first like this before. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lewis smiles. “Just trust me, okay?”

You nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over you despite the chaotic situation. “I do trust you. Let’s go.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath, thinking of all you’re leaving behind — your family, your duty, the only life you’ve ever known. But as you look at Lewis, you realize you’re also stepping into a new life. One where you’re free to be yourself, to love who you want, to follow your heart.

“Ready,” you say firmly.

And with that, Lewis opens the door, and together, you step out into your new future.

***

The private jet hums softly as it cuts through the night sky, carrying you away from everything you’ve ever known. You’re curled up against Lewis on the plush leather seat, your head resting on his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear is oddly comforting, grounding you in this surreal moment.

Lewis’ arm is wrapped around you, his hand gently stroking your back. With your free hand, you trace the lines of his soulmate tattoo — your first words to him, now etched forever on his skin.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” you murmur, your fingers following the curves of each letter.

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest. “I know what you mean. I’ve imagined meeting you so many times, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality.”

You look up at him, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. “Weren’t you afraid? When you realized who I was?”

“Afraid?” Lewis considers for a moment. “No, not afraid. Excited, nervous, maybe a little overwhelmed. But not afraid.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “But you were. You’re still afraid now, aren’t you?”

You nod slowly, dropping your gaze back to his wrist. “I’ve been afraid for so long, I’m not sure I know how to stop.”

Lewis’ hand moves to cup your face gently, encouraging you to look at him again. “Will you tell me about it? Help me understand?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s ... it’s not a pleasant story.”

“I’m here,” Lewis says softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

His words, so simple yet so profound, give you the courage to begin. “It started with my brother, Edward. He was always the rebellious one, you know? Always pushing boundaries, questioning traditions. When he found his soulmate, he was over the moon. Her name was Lily, and she was ... she was perfect for him. Kind, funny, passionate about the same causes he was.”

You pause, the memory of your brother’s joy contrasting sharply with what came after. Lewis waits patiently, his presence a comforting anchor.

“For a few months, they managed to keep it a secret. But eventually, someone saw them together. Word got back to our parents and ...” You shudder, remembering that awful day. “They were furious. They gave Edward an ultimatum: give up Lily or give up his place in the line of succession.”

“That’s horrible,” Lewis murmurs, his arm tightening around you.

You nod, continuing, “Edward refused. He said Lily was more important than any throne. So they ... they decided to take matters into their own hands.”

Your voice breaks as you recount what happened next. “They had the royal physician burn off Edward’s soulmate mark. I can still hear his screams echoing through the palace. It was ... it was torture.”

Lewis’ body tenses beneath you, his voice tight with anger when he speaks. “They had no right. How could they do that to their own son?”

“They said it was for the good of the country,” you reply bitterly. “That royals can’t afford the luxury of soulmates. Our marriages are political tools, nothing more.”

“What happened to Edward and Lily?” Lewis asks gently.

You sigh heavily. “Edward was never the same after that. The spark in him just ... died. He does his duty now, makes the appearances he’s supposed to, but it’s like he’s just going through the motions. And Lily ... last I heard, she moved to Australia. I think being anywhere near the UK was too painful for her.”

Lewis is quiet for a moment, processing your words. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Y/N. No wonder you were scared when you realized we were soulmates.”

You nod, feeling the weight of years of fear and secrecy lifting as you share your story. “That’s not even the worst of it,” you admit softly.

Lewis looks at you, concern etched on his face. “There’s more?”

You take another deep breath, steeling yourself for the hardest part of the story. “My father ... he had an older sister. Aunt Margaret. I never met her, but I found out about her a few years ago.”

Lewis listens intently as you continue, “She found her soulmate when she was young, maybe 20 or so. And she refused to give him up, no matter what my grandparents said. They tried everything — threats, bribes, even attempting to arrange another match for her. But Margaret stood firm.”

“She sounds brave,” Lewis comments.

You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “She was. But bravery wasn’t enough. One night, both Margaret and her soulmate disappeared. The official story was that they’d eloped, run off to start a new life together. But that wasn’t the truth.”

Lewis’ body tenses again, as if bracing for what’s coming. You press on, the words tumbling out now that you’ve started.

“Margaret’s soulmate was ... dealt with. Permanently. And Margaret herself was institutionalized. Locked away in a private facility, hidden from the world.”

“That’s ... that’s monstrous,” Lewis breathes, horror evident in his voice.

You nod, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “When I found out, I couldn’t believe it. I managed to find out where she was being held and I ... I visited her.”

Lewis’ hand resumes its gentle stroking of your back, encouraging you to continue.

“She was ... god, Lewis, she was just a shell. Decades of being locked away, of being separated from her soulmate ... it had broken her. She didn’t even seem to realize I was there.”

A tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. Lewis gently wipes it away with his thumb.

“That’s why I was so scared,” you whisper. “I’ve seen what my family is capable of. What lengths they’ll go to in order to keep up appearances, to maintain their idea of duty.”

Lewis is quiet for a long moment, his arms tightening around you protectively. When he finally speaks, his voice is filled with a mix of anger and determination.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he says firmly. “What happened to your brother, to your aunt ... it was wrong. Cruel and wrong. But I promise you, I will not let that happen to us.”

You look up at him, seeing the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’re not alone in this,” Lewis explains. “We have resources they don’t. My citizenship, for one. The laws protecting soulmates in Brazil. And beyond that, we have the power of public opinion.”

You frown, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

Lewis shifts slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Think about it. Your family’s power comes from public support, right? What do you think would happen if the world found out they were separating soulmates, institutionalizing people?”

“It would be a scandal,” you realize, your eyes widening.

“Exactly,” Lewis nods. “We’re not helpless. If they try anything, we can fight back. We can tell our story, rally support. The world has changed a lot. People believe in the sanctity of soulmates now more than ever.”

His words spark a tiny flame of hope in your chest. “You really think we could do that?”

“I know we could,” Lewis says confidently. “But more than that, I don’t think we’ll have to. Your family isn’t stupid. They’ll realize the risk isn’t worth it. Especially not with someone as high-profile as me.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that. “Modest, aren’t you?”

Lewis grins, the tension of the moment breaking. “Hey, I’m just stating facts. Seven-time world champion, remember?”

You roll your eyes playfully, but then grow serious again. “Lewis ... thank you. For listening, for understanding. For not running away when you realized how complicated this all is.”

“Hey,” Lewis says softly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “You’re my soulmate. That means we’re in this together, complications and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words wash over you, soothing fears you’ve carried for so long. For the first time, you allow yourself to truly believe that maybe, just maybe, you can have this. You can have him.

“So,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips. “What happens now?”

Lewis grins, his eyes twinkling with excitement and possibility. “Now? Now we start our adventure. We land in São Paulo, get your citizenship sorted out, and then ... well, then the world’s our oyster. We can go anywhere, do anything.”

“Anything?” You ask, the concept of such freedom almost dizzying.

“Anything,” Lewis confirms. “We could travel the world. Or we could find a quiet place to settle down if that’s what you prefer. We could work on charitable causes together, or you could pursue whatever dreams you’ve had to put aside because of your royal duties.”

The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more exciting than the last. “I ... I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.

Lewis chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We don’t have to decide everything right now. We’ve got time. For now, let’s just focus on getting to Brazil safely. We can figure out the rest as we go.”

You nod, settling back against his chest. The steady beat of his heart syncs with the hum of the jet engines, lulling you into a sense of peace you haven’t felt in years.

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of your soulmate’s arms, you realize something. For the first time in your life, you’re not afraid of the future. Instead, you’re excited to see what it holds.

Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. You and Lewis, two halves of a whole, finally united. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but with him by your side, you’re ready for anything.

***

As the private jet touches down on Brazilian soil, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flutters in your stomach. Lewis gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as the plane rolls to a stop.

“Ready?” He asks, his warm brown eyes meeting yours.

You take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

The cabin door opens, and the humid Brazilian air rushes in. Lewis leads you down the steps, his hand never leaving yours. At the bottom, a tall woman in a crisp suit waits, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she greets with a warm smile, extending her hand. “And Your Royal Highness. Welcome to Brazil. I’m Dr. Raquel Santos from the Department of Soulmate Affairs.”

Lewis shakes her hand. “Dr. Santos, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.”

“Of course,” she replies, turning to you. “Your Highness, it’s an honor.”

You shake her hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “Please, just call me Y/N. I ... I’m not sure how much of a royal I am anymore.”

Dr. Santos’ smile softens. “Of course, Y/N. Why don’t we move this conversation somewhere more private? I have a car waiting to take us to a secure location where we can discuss everything in detail.”

You and Lewis follow her to a sleek black car. Once inside, Dr. Santos turns to face you both.

“First and foremost,” she begins, “I want to assure you that you are under the full protection of Brazilian law. As soon as you stepped off that plane, Y/N, you became entitled to all the rights and protections we offer to soulmates.”

“Just like that?” You ask, hardly daring to believe it could be so simple.

Dr. Santos nods. “Just like that. Brazil takes soulmate rights very seriously. We believe that the bond between soulmates is sacred and should be protected at all costs.”

Lewis leans forward, his expression serious. “What exactly does that protection entail? Y/N’s situation is ... complicated.”

“I understand,” Dr. Santos says. “Your assistant filled me in on some of the details during our phone call. Let me break down the key points for you.”

As the car glides through the streets of São Paulo, Dr. Santos begins her explanation.

“First, as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen, Y/N is immediately eligible for Brazilian citizenship. We can begin the paperwork right away. This will provide an added layer of protection against any attempts at extradition.”

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders at her words. “So my family can’t force me to return to the UK?”

“Correct,” Dr. Santos confirms. “Brazil does not recognize any authority over soulmate bonds, not even royal decrees. Your status as a princess is irrelevant in the eyes of our law when it comes to your rights as a soulmate.”

Lewis squeezes your hand, a smile playing on his lips. “See? I told you we’d figure it out.”

Dr. Santos continues, “Furthermore, we have specific laws protecting soulmates from forced separation. Any attempt to interfere with your bond — be it physical separation, coercion, or even attempts to remove or alter your soulmate marks — is considered a serious crime in Brazil.”

You unconsciously rub your wrist where your tattoo is hidden. “What about ... what if they try to claim I’m mentally unfit or something? To try and invalidate my choices?”

Dr. Santos’ expression turns serious. “We’ve seen such tactics used before, unfortunately. That’s why we have safeguards in place. Any claims of mental unfitness would require extensive evaluation by multiple independent Brazilian psychiatrists.”

“And if they try to use their diplomatic influence?” Lewis asks.

“Brazil’s stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable,” Dr. Santos states firmly. “We’ve stood up to pressure from other nations before, and we won’t hesitate to do so again. Your bond is protected here, regardless of external political pressures.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “This all sounds almost too good to be true.”

Dr. Santos smiles warmly. “I understand your caution, Y/N. But I assure you, these protections are very real and very enforceable. Now, let me explain some of the practical aspects of your situation.”

As the car turns onto a quieter street, Dr. Santos pulls out a tablet. “We’ll need to register your bond officially. This involves a simple verification process — usually just a visual confirmation of a matching font on your soulmate marks. Once registered, you’ll be issued official documentation of your bond status.”

“What does that documentation do?” You ask, leaning forward with interest.

“It serves several purposes,” Dr. Santos explains. “Firstly, it’s legal proof of your bond, which can be used to claim various rights and protections under Brazilian law. It also serves as a form of identification and can be used to expedite your citizenship application.”

Lewis nods thoughtfully. “And what about privacy? Given our high profiles, we’re concerned about information leaks.”

“An excellent question,” Dr. Santos says. “We take privacy very seriously, especially in high-profile cases like yours. All information related to your bond and Y/N’s presence in Brazil will be classified at the highest level. Only a select few government officials will have access to this information.”

You feel a surge of gratitude towards this woman and the country she represents. “Dr. Santos, I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”

She smiles warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Protecting soulmates is not just my job, it’s my passion. Now, let’s discuss some of the support services available to you.”

As the car pulls up to a nondescript building, Dr. Santos continues her explanation. “We offer counseling services specifically tailored for soulmates who have faced separation or threats to their bond. These services are completely confidential and can be invaluable in helping you process your experiences and adjust to your new life.”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I think ... I think that might be really helpful.”

Lewis wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “We’ll get through this together, love. Whatever you need.”

Dr. Santos leads you into the building and up to a comfortably furnished office. As you all take seats, she pulls out some forms.

“Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” she says gently. “But I’d like to start the official registration process, if you’re ready. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you’ll have legal protection.”

You look at Lewis, who gives you an encouraging nod. “Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

As Dr. Santos begins to explain the forms, a thought occurs to you. “Dr. Santos, what about Lewis? How will all of this affect his career?”

Dr. Santos smiles. “I’m glad you asked. Mr. Hamilton, as a Brazilian citizen, you have the right to have your soulmate with you wherever your career takes you. We can provide diplomatic assistance to ensure Y/N can travel with you freely, without risk of detention or forced return to the UK.”

Lewis grins, looking relieved. “That’s fantastic news. I was worried I might have to give up racing.”

“Not at all,” Dr. Santos assures him. “We believe that soulmates should support each other’s dreams and ambitions. Our laws are designed to facilitate that.”

As you begin filling out the forms, a sense of surreal calm washes over you. For the first time in your life, you feel truly protected, truly free to be with the person you’re meant to be with.

“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Santos says as you finish the paperwork. “As part of our soulmate protection program, we offer a safe house service. It’s a secure location where you can stay while you adjust to your new situation and decide on your next steps. Would you be interested in that?”

You and Lewis exchange a look. “I think that might be a good idea,” Lewis says. “At least for a little while, until we figure things out. My home here isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

You nod in agreement. “Yes, please. That sounds perfect.”

Dr. Santos smiles, clearly pleased. “Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements right away. The location is completely confidential and guarded 24/7. You’ll be safe there.”

As she stands to make some calls, you turn to Lewis, feeling overwhelmed by everything that’s happened.

“Lewis,” you say softly, “I can’t believe you’ve done all this for me. You’ve turned your whole life upside down.”

He takes your hands in his, his eyes shining with emotion. “You’re my soulmate. My whole life was leading up to finding you. Everything else? It’s just details we’ll figure out together.”

You lean in, resting your forehead against his. For the first time since you can remember, you feel truly, completely safe. Protected not just by laws and governments, but by the love of the person you were always meant to find.

As Dr. Santos returns to finalize the arrangements, you realize that this isn’t just the end of your old life. It’s the beginning of something new, something wonderful. A life where you’re free to love, free to be yourself, free to explore the bond that fate has given you.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know now that you won’t face them alone. You have Lewis, you have the protection of Brazilian law, and most importantly, you have hope. The future, once so terrifying, now shines with possibility.

And as you leave the office hand in hand with Lewis, ready to start your new life together, you can’t help but smile. Because for the first time, you’re not running away from something.

You’re running towards it.

***

The roar of engines and the buzz of excitement fill the air as you stand at the entrance to the Autódromo José Carlos Pace. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand is warm and steady in yours, a constant reminder that you’re not alone.

“Are you ready for this?” Lewis asks, his brown eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “As ready as I’ll ever be. It’s time to stop hiding.”

Lewis nods, a proud smile lighting up his face. “That’s my girl. Remember, whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

With one last reassuring squeeze, Lewis leads you into the paddock. The moment you step into view, a hush falls over the nearby crowd. Then, like a wave, whispers and exclamations ripple outward.

“Is that ...”

“It can’t be ...”

“The princess!”

“With Lewis Hamilton?”

Cameras flash in a frenzy, and reporters surge forward, held back only by the security team flanking you and Lewis. You keep your head high, your hand firmly in Lewis’ as you make your way through the paddock.

A brave reporter manages to shout a question over the commotion. “Your Highness! Is it true you’ve been in hiding in Brazil?”

You pause, looking to Lewis. He gives you an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, you turn to face the press.

“Yes, it’s true,” you say, your voice steady despite your nerves. “I’ve been in Brazil for the past few months, under the protection of the Brazilian government.”

The questions come rapid-fire after that.

“Why did you leave the UK?”

“Are you and Lewis Hamilton really soulmates?”

“What does the royal family have to say about this?”

Lewis steps forward, his arm protectively around your waist. “We’ll be holding a press conference later to address all your questions. For now, we ask for your patience and understanding as we prepare for the race.”

As you continue through the paddock, you can’t help but think back on the tumultuous months that led to this moment ...

The first few weeks in Brazil had been a whirlwind of paperwork, security briefings, and adjusting to your new reality. You and Lewis had stayed in the safe house provided by the Brazilian government, venturing out only when necessary and always under heavy guard.

One morning, about a month into your stay, Dr. Santos had arrived with a grim expression.

“We’ve intercepted some concerning communications,” she had said, her usual calm demeanor tinged with worry. “It seems the British royal family has intensified their search for you, Y/N. They’re making threats.”

You had felt your heart drop. “What kind of threats?”

Dr. Santos had hesitated before answering. “They’re threatening to use their diplomatic influence to pressure Brazil into returning you. They’re also ... they’re suggesting that you might be mentally unfit, that you’ve been coerced or manipulated.”

Lewis had immediately pulled you close, his jaw clenched in anger. “They can’t do that. We won’t let them.”

“And we won’t,” Dr. Santos had assured you both. “Our stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable. But I want you to be prepared. This might get ugly.”

And it had. Over the next few months, your family had tried everything. Diplomatic pressure, media manipulation, even attempts to infiltrate Brazilian government systems to locate you. But Brazil had stood firm, and you had remained safe.

A commotion near the Mercedes garage snaps you back to the present. You see a group of men in dark suits pushing their way through the crowd, their expressions grim and determined. Your blood runs cold as you recognize one of them — your father’s head of security.

“Lewis,” you whisper urgently, “they’re here.”

Lewis’ arm tightens around you as he quickly assesses the situation. “Stay calm. Remember the plan.”

As the men approach, the lead one steps forward, his voice loud and authoritative. “Your Royal Highness, by order of His Majesty the King, you are to return to the United Kingdom immediately.”

You feel all eyes on you, the paddock having gone deathly quiet. Taking a deep breath, you step forward, your voice clear and steady. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I am here of my own free will, protected by Brazilian law as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen.”

The man’s expression hardens. “Your Highness, please don’t make this difficult. Your family is concerned for your well-being. They believe you may have been coerced or manipulated-”

“The only manipulation here,” Lewis interrupts, his voice sharp, “is coming from those who would separate soulmates for political gain.”

Just then, Dr. Santos appears, flanked by Brazilian officials. “Gentlemen,” she says coolly to the British security team, “I’m afraid you’re overstepping. Y/N is under the protection of the Brazilian government. Any attempt to remove her against her will would be considered means for an international incident.”

The head of security sputters, clearly not having expected this level of resistance. “This is a family matter-”

“No,” you interject, your voice stronger now. “This is a matter of human rights. The right to be with one’s soulmate. A right that Brazil recognizes and protects.”

Dr. Santos nods approvingly. “Furthermore, any claims of mental unfitness have been thoroughly disproven by independent psychiatric evaluation. Y/N is here of her own free will, in full possession of her faculties.”

The security team looks at each other uncertainly, clearly realizing they’re outmatched. The lead man makes one last attempt. “Your Highness, please. Your family misses you. They want you to come home.”

For a moment, you feel a pang of sadness for the life you left behind. But then you feel Lewis’ steady presence beside you, and you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

“I am home,” you say softly but firmly. “My home is with my soulmate, wherever that may be.”

The man opens his mouth to argue further, but Dr. Santos cuts him off. “Gentlemen, I believe it’s time for you to leave. Unless you’d like us to involve the authorities?”

Realizing they’re defeated, the security team begins to retreat. As they leave, you hear murmurs of admiration and support from the crowd that has gathered to watch the confrontation.

Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace. “You were amazing,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

As you pull back, you see reporters clamoring for comments, their cameras flashing incessantly. Dr. Santos steps forward to address them.

“A full press conference will be held later today,” she announces. “For now, I can confirm that Y/N, formally known as Her Royal Highness, is here legally and of her own free will as the soulmate of Lewis Hamilton. She is under the full protection of Brazilian law, and any attempts to interfere with their bond will be met with the full force of our legal system.”

As Dr. Santos continues to field questions, Lewis turns to you. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m more than okay. For the first time, I feel ... free.”

Lewis grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because we’ve got a race to win.”

As you make your way to the Mercedes garage, you’re overwhelmed by the support you receive. Team members, other drivers, and even fans call out words of encouragement.

“We’ve got your back, Y/N!”

“Love wins!”

“You show ‘em, Lewis!”

Inside the garage, the team greets you warmly. Toto approaches with a smile.

“Y/N, Lewis,” he says, shaking both your hands. “That was quite an entrance. Are you sure you’re up for all this today?”

You nod firmly. “Absolutely. It’s time to show the world that love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger.”

Lewis beams at your words. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, let’s go win this race, yeah?”

As Lewis begins his pre-race preparations, you find a quiet corner to collect your thoughts. The events of the past few months flash through your mind — the fear, the uncertainty, but also the overwhelming love and support you’ve received.

You think about your family, about the life you left behind. There’s sadness there, but no regret. You’ve found something more precious than any crown — the freedom to love, to be yourself, to follow your heart.

A gentle hand on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. You look up to see Lewis, now in his race suit, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks softly.

You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How grateful I am for you, for Brazil, for everyone who’s supported us.”

Lewis leans into your touch, his eyes shining with emotion. “We’re the lucky ones, Y/N. To have found each other, to have this chance at happiness. And I promise you, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret your choice.”

You stand, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I could never regret choosing you. You’re my soulmate, my home, my everything.”

As you lean in for a kiss, the garage erupts in cheers and whistles. You break apart, laughing, to see the entire team watching with grins on their faces.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Toto calls out good-naturedly. “Save it for after the race. Lewis, you’ve got a championship to chase.”

Lewis gives you one last quick kiss before pulling on his helmet. “Watch me fly, Princess,” he says with a wink.

As he heads out to the track, you take your place in the garage, surrounded by your new family — the team that has embraced you without question. You feel a sense of belonging, of purpose, that you’ve never experienced before.

The roar of engines fills the air as the race begins. You watch Lewis navigate the track with precision and skill, your heart swelling with pride and love. This is your life now — the excitement of race day, the thrill of competition, but most importantly, the joy of being with your soulmate.

As Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, the garage erupts in celebration. You rush out to meet him in parc fermé, not caring about protocol or propriety. Lewis sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around as the crowd cheers.

In that moment, with the sun shining down and the sound of celebration all around, you know that you’ve made the right choice. This is where you belong — by Lewis’ side, free to love and be loved, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

Together.

***

The familiar scent of motor oil and rubber fills the air as you step onto British soil for the first time in over a year. Silverstone buzzes with excitement, but you can’t shake the nervous energy coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand finds yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, nodding. “I think so. It’s just ... strange being back.”

Lewis pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Remember, you’re not alone. We’ve got security everywhere, and I’m right here with you.”

As if on cue, the head of your security team, a tall, no-nonsense woman named Maria, approaches. “Everything’s clear, Ms. Y/N. We’ve swept the entire area and have eyes on all entry points.”

You smile gratefully at her. “Thank you, Maria. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Maria’s stern expression softens slightly. “Just doing our job, ma’am. Your safety is our top priority.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but notice the stares and whispers that follow you. Some are curious, others admiring, and a few ... less than friendly. But your security team forms a protective barrier around you and Lewis, keeping any potential trouble at bay.

“Y/N! Lewis!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Fred Vasseur approaching, a warm smile on his face. “Welcome back to Silverstone. How are you holding up?”

“It’s ... intense,” you admit. “But I’m glad to be here, supporting Lewis.”

Fred nods understandingly. “Well, you’ve got the whole team behind you. Anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to answer to all of Ferrari.”

As you continue through the paddock, greeting team members and other drivers, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Not just by the curious onlookers, but by someone ... familiar.

That’s when you see him. Standing near the VIP area, looking as regal and composed as ever, is your brother.

Your heart skips a beat. You haven’t seen Edward since that fateful day you ran away. Lewis, sensing your tension, follows your gaze.

“Is that ...” he asks quietly.

You nod, unable to find words. Lewis turns to Maria. “Can you make sure we have a private moment?”

Maria nods, already signaling to her team. Within moments, they’ve created a small bubble of privacy around you and Edward.

Edward approaches slowly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you both just stand there, years of unspoken words hanging between you.

Then, to your surprise, Edward’s composure cracks. His eyes fill with tears as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You cling to him, your own tears falling freely. “Eddie ... I’m so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just ... I couldn’t ...”

Edward pulls back, holding you at arm’s length. His eyes roam your face, as if memorizing every detail. “Don’t apologize. Not ever. What you did ... Y/N, I am so incredibly proud of you.”

His words catch you off guard. “Proud? But I abandoned the family, my duties ...”

Edward shakes his head firmly. “You chose love. You chose happiness. You did what I was too weak to do.”

You glance at Lewis, who’s standing a respectful distance away, giving you this moment with your brother. “Edward, this is Lewis. My soulmate.”

Edward extends his hand to Lewis. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lewis. Thank you for protecting my sister and giving her the happiness she deserves.”

Lewis shakes his hand, his expression sincere. “The honor is mine, Your Highness. Y/N is the bravest, most amazing person I know. I’m just lucky to be part of her life.”

Edward’s smile is tinged with sadness. “Please, call me Edward. And you’re right, she is amazing. Always has been.”

You look at your brother closely, noticing the lines of stress around his eyes, the slight slump in his shoulders. “Eddie ... how are you? Really?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s ... not easy. The family is in turmoil after your departure. Father is furious, Mother is heartbroken, and I’m ... well, I’m trying to hold it all together.”

“And Lily?” You ask softly, referring to Edward’s soulmate. “Have you heard from her?”

Edward’s expression clouds over. “No. Not since ... not since that day.”

You take your brother’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s not too late, you know. You could still reach out to her.”

Edward laughs bitterly. “And say what? ‘Sorry I let them burn off my soulmate mark and married someone else. Want to grab coffee?’”

Lewis steps forward, his voice gentle but firm. “With all due respect, Your High- Edward, it’s never too late. The bond between soulmates ... it’s not something that can be erased, no matter what’s done to the physical mark.”

Edward looks at Lewis, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You really believe that?”

Lewis nods. “I do. Y/N and I found each other against all odds. Who’s to say you and Lily can’t do the same?”

You squeeze Edward’s hand again. “Eddie, you deserve to be happy. You deserve love. It’s not too late to choose yourself, to choose love.”

Edward looks torn, glancing around at the crowds, the cameras, the weight of expectation that’s always surrounded you both. “But the family ...”

“Will still be there,” you say softly. “But you’ll be facing them as your true self, with your soulmate by your side. It makes all the difference, trust me.”

Your brother is quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with years of ingrained duty and expectation. Finally, he looks up, a new determination in his eyes.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice growing stronger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve spent too long living for everyone else. It’s time I lived for myself.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Does this mean ...”

Edward nods, a mix of fear and excitement in his eyes. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to find Lily. I’m going to make things right.”

You throw your arms around your brother, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Eddie. And I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

As you pull back, you see tears in Edward’s eyes, but also a lightness that you haven’t seen in years. “Thank you. For showing me that it’s possible to choose love. For being brave enough to pave the way.”

Lewis steps forward, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “If you need any help — legal advice, security, anything — just say the word. You’re family now.”

Edward looks at Lewis gratefully. “Thank you. I might just take you up on that.”

Just then, Maria approaches discreetly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to move. The press is getting restless.”

You nod, turning back to Edward. “Will you be okay?”

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “I will be. For the first time in a long time, I think I really will be.”

As you prepare to part ways, Edward pulls you in for one last hug. “I love you, little sister. Thank you for reminding me what’s truly important.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” you whisper back. “Go find your happiness. You deserve it.”

With one last squeeze, Edward steps back. As he walks away, you see him pull out his phone, a look of determination on his face. You have a feeling you know exactly who he’s about to call.

Lewis wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You okay, love?”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear. “More than okay. I feel ... hopeful. For Eddie, for us, for everything.”

As you make your way back through the paddock, you’re struck by how different everything feels. The stares don’t bother you as much, the whispers fade into background noise. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, with the person you’re meant to be with.

“You know,” Lewis says as you reach the Ferrari garage, “I think I’m going to win this race.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what makes you so sure?”

Lewis grins, pulling you close. “Because I’ve got my lucky charm by my side. How can I lose?”

You laugh, the sound light and free. “Well, in that case, you’d better not disappoint. I expect nothing less than a victory, Sir Hamilton.”

As Lewis leans in for a kiss, you’re vaguely aware of cameras flashing and people cheering. But none of that matters. What matters is this moment, this love, this life you’ve chosen.

You think back to a year ago, when you were terrified of finding your soulmate, of the consequences it would bring. Now, standing here at Silverstone, with Lewis by your side and the hope of your brother finding his own happiness, you realize that choosing love wasn’t just the brave choice.

It was the only choice.

As Lewis heads off to prepare for the race, you take your place in the garage. The roar of engines fills the air, and you feel a surge of excitement.

This is your life now. Supporting Lewis, championing love, and showing the world that sometimes, the greatest act of duty is being true to yourself.

As the race begins, you watch Lewis tear around the track, your heart swelling with pride and love. You may not wear a tiara anymore, but you’ve gained something far more precious — the freedom to love, to choose, to be yourself.

And as the chequered flag waves and Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, you know that this victory isn’t just his.

It’s yours. It’s Edward’s. It’s everyone who’s ever had the courage to choose love over duty, happiness over expectation.

As you rush to congratulate Lewis, wrapped in his arms as the crowd cheers, you know that this is just the beginning. There will be challenges ahead, obstacles to overcome. But with love by your side and the strength to be true to yourself, you’re ready to face whatever comes.

Because in the end, love always wins. And you? You’re living proof of that.

***

The warm Brazilian sun streams through the windows of the spacious beachfront home, filling the living room with a golden glow. The sound of children’s laughter mingles with the distant crash of waves, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

You’re seated on the plush carpet, surrounded by an array of colorful toys. Your three-year-old daughter, Emilia, is busily stacking blocks, her little face scrunched in concentration. Across from you, Edward is attempting to wrangle his own two-year-old son, James, who seems more interested in knocking down Emilia’s creations than building his own.

“James, darling, let’s build our own tower, shall we?” Edward coaxes gently, redirecting his son’s attention.

You can’t help but smile at the scene. Five years ago, you never could have imagined this — you and Edward, raising your children together, free from the constraints of royal duty.

The sound of a door opening draws your attention. Lewis walks in, his arms full of grocery bags, closely followed by Lily.

“We come bearing snacks!” Lewis announces with a grin.

Emilia’s head snaps up at the sight of her favorite person. “Daddy!” She squeals, abandoning her blocks and running to Lewis.

Lewis sets down the bags just in time to scoop up his daughter, peppering her face with kisses. “Hello, my little racer. Have you been good for Mummy?”

Emilia nods enthusiastically. “I builded a big tower!”

“Built, sweetheart,” you correct gently, getting to your feet. “And it was a very impressive tower indeed.”

Lewis sets Emilia down and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “And how’s my other favorite girl doing?”

You smile, leaning into his embrace. “Better now that you’re home. How was the market?”

“Busy,” Lily chimes in, setting down her own bags. “But we managed to get everything on the list, plus a few extras.”

Edward stands, hoisting James onto his hip. “Extras, you say? Let me guess — more of those brigadeiros that you’re definitely not addicted to, right, love?”

Lily’s cheeks flush slightly as she laughs. “I plead the fifth. This baby wants what it wants.”

Your eyes light up at the reminder. Lily is five months pregnant with their second child, and you’re all buzzing with excitement.

“Speaking of the baby,” you say, moving to help unpack the groceries, “have you two decided if you’re going to find out the gender?”

Edward and Lily exchange a look. “We’re still debating,” Edward admits. “Part of me wants to know, but there’s also something nice about the surprise.”

Lewis chuckles, joining you in the kitchen. “I remember that debate. Though if I recall correctly, someone couldn’t handle the suspense and made me call the doctor at two in the morning to find out.”

You playfully swat his arm. “Hey, you were just as curious as I was!”

As you all work together to put away the groceries and prepare snacks for the kids, you’re struck by how natural this all feels. The easy banter, the shared responsibilities, the love that permeates every interaction. It’s a far cry from the rigid formality of your royal upbringing.

“You know,” Edward says, as if reading your thoughts, “sometimes I still can’t believe this is our life now.”

You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s so different from what we always thought our futures would be.”

Lily comes up behind Edward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Different, but better, right?”

Edward turns, pulling her close. “Infinitely better. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As you watch your brother with his soulmate, you feel a wave of happiness and gratitude wash over you. It hadn’t been easy for Edward to follow in your footsteps, to give up his place in the line of succession and choose love over duty. But seeing him now, so relaxed and genuinely happy, you know it was worth every struggle.

“Earth to Y/N,” Lewis’ voice breaks through your reverie. “Where’d you go just now?”

You smile, shaking your head. “Just thinking about how far we’ve all come. How different things could have been.”

Lewis nods, understanding in his eyes. “Do you ever regret it? Giving up your title, your life in England?”

You don’t hesitate for a second. “Never. This life, with you, with our family — it’s more than I ever dreamed possible.”

A sudden crash from the living room interrupts the moment. You all rush in to find James standing triumphantly atop a mountain of scattered blocks, while Emilia looks on in horror.

“James Edward Henry Albert Windsor!” Lily exclaims, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her amusement. “What have we said about destroying other people’s creations?”

James, looking not at all repentant, grins widely. “I king of the castle!”

Edward struggles to keep a straight face as he lifts his son off the block mountain. “Yes, well, kings should be builders, not destroyers. Let’s clean this up and then we can all build a castle together, okay?”

As you all pitch in to help clean up the blocks, Emilia tugs on your sleeve. “Mummy, will James be a real king someday?”

The question catches you off guard. You exchange a look with Edward, unsure how to explain the complicated reality of your family’s situation.

Lewis kneels down next to Emilia, his voice gentle. “No, sweetheart. James won’t be a king and you won’t be a princess. But that’s okay, because you get to be something even better.”

Emilia’s eyes widen with curiosity. “What’s that, Daddy?”

Lewis smiles, pulling her into a hug. “You get to be yourself. You get to choose who you want to be and what you want to do with your life. And that’s much more special.”

You feel tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the simple beauty of Lewis’ words. This is why you left, why you chose this life. So that your children could have the freedom you and Edward never had growing up.

As the afternoon wears on, you all migrate to the back patio. The kids play in the sand under the watchful eyes of their parents, while you, Lewis, Edward, and Lily relax on the comfortable outdoor furniture.

“So,” Lily says, her hand resting on her growing belly, “have you two given any thought to expanding your own family?”

You and Lewis share a knowing look. “Actually,” you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice, “we’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

Edward raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell, little sister.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “We’re thinking of adopting. There are so many children out there who need loving homes, and we have more than enough love to give.”

“That’s wonderful!” Lily exclaims, her eyes shining. “Oh, Emilia would love a little brother or sister.”

You nod, watching your daughter play. “We think so too. We’re just starting the process, but it feels right.”

Edward leans forward, his expression serious. “Have you thought about how this might affect things back in England? The press ...”

You sigh, having expected this question. “We have. And honestly, we’ve decided that it doesn’t matter what they think. This is our life, our family. We’re not going to let fear of judgment or outdated institutions dictate our choices anymore.”

Lewis nods in agreement. “We’ve already faced the worst they could throw at us. We came out stronger. Whatever comes next, we can handle it together.”

Edward’s serious expression melts into a proud smile. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry, old habits die hard I suppose. I’m thrilled for you both, truly.”

As the conversation flows, touching on everything from potential names for Lily and Edward’s baby to Lewis’ upcoming ambassador campaign, you’re struck by how perfectly imperfect this life is. It’s messy and chaotic at times, full of unexpected challenges and joy in equal measure. But it’s real, and it’s yours.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. James and Emilia, tired from their day of play, curl up in their fathers’ laps. As you watch your brother gently stroke his son’s hair, you remember a conversation from years ago.

“Eddie,” you say softly, “do you remember what you told me the day they ... the day they burned off your soulmate mark?”

Edward looks up, his eyes clouding with the memory. “I told you that if you ever found your soulmate, you should run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

You nod, feeling Lewis’ arm tighten around you. “I’m so glad I took your advice. And I’m even more glad that you eventually followed it too.”

Edward smiles, looking down at James and then over at Lily. “So am I, Y/N. So am I.”

As the evening draws in, you all move inside. The kids are put to bed, their excited chatter about building sandcastles and racing cars fading into peaceful sleep. You, Lewis, Edward, and Lily settle in the living room, glasses of wine in hand (sparkling juice for Lily).

“A toast,” Lewis proposes, raising his glass. “To family, to love, and to the courage to choose our own path.”

“To freedom,” Edward adds, his eyes shining with emotion.

“To second chances,” Lily chimes in, her hand resting on her belly.

You raise your own glass, feeling a swell of emotion. “To us. All of us. And to the beautiful, chaotic, perfectly imperfect life we’ve built together.”

As you clink glasses, you catch Lewis’ eye. In that moment, you’re transported back to that day at Silverstone, when you first ran into each other. The fear, the excitement, the life-changing decision you made in an instant.

You wouldn’t change a thing.

As the night wears on and conversation flows freely, you realize that this — this warmth, this love, this freedom — this is what happily ever after really looks like. It’s not a fairy tale ending, but a beginning. A beginning of a life filled with love, choice, and the joy of being truly yourself.

And as you curl up in bed that night, Lewis’ arms around you and the sound of the ocean in the distance, you know that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Your family’s story is still being written. And you can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings.

[badbtssmut]

Reckless and sweet

What if you are equally in love with two guys and really can’t choose? You date them both. But when Taehyung and Jungkook find out about you playing them, they decide to dick you down together, you were the one greedily taking two dicks anyway, so what’s the problem?

Contains: attempt at porn with plot, implication that fortune tellers don’t work, reader will get caught so prepare for some feelings of anxiety, fear, etc, the guys tease reader when she’s caught, reader is dating them both without them knowing, text AU mixed with story writing, reader is a cute coquette girly, some angst, reader will have sex with both guys

Smut JK: Missionary, pussy licking and fingering, his face in her pussy

Smut Tae: riding, boobplay, from behind

Smut both: taking turns, blowjobs, missionary, reader is told she has a slutty face, dirty talk, they both cum in her, boobplay

Admin note: make sure to open the images, tumblr might crop some of the convos

“What brings you here, dear?”

"I can't choose between two guys. I… need help."

The fortune teller nodded knowingly, her fingers shuffling the tarot cards. "The cards will guide us," she said, spreading them out in a maze like pattern. "Let us see what the future holds for your heart."

You watched the fortune teller as she turned over the cards, one by one, the flickering lantern light illuminating each card. "There it is.” She tapped the card. “This card stands for “soulmate” and in combination with this card, it leads to…” Her hand inched closer to the two photos you had laid out. "I see, I see. This card shows that this young man is the one for you." She tapped on the photo. "The cards don't lie."

"Oh…” You slumped into your chair, a little disappointed.

“You seem disappointed, were you hoping for the other man?”

“No, that’s… not it. It’s nothing.”

Why tell her that this is your fifth attempt today to consult a fortune teller? And that everyone gave you a different story.

You stood up and paid her for her service. "Thank you for your help, Madam. I will take your words into consideration."

You weren’t a bad person, really. You didn't seek Taehyung and Jungkook out with the intention to cheat on them; all you desired was an unbiased answer, just a little something to ease your indecisiveness and help you decide. But… the results of all the tarot readings were inconclusive.

Your best friend told you to pick already and not lead them on any longer.

But that was easier said than done.

Your best friend wouldn’t understand, she isn’t you, she doesn’t experience the guys the same way you do— you were convinced if she had the same predicament that she would do the same thing you did.

But she didn’t have the same predicament, she had her soulmate already. So, you wouldn’t expect her to understand.

You stared at the phone in your hand, your thumb hovering over the texting app that will connect you to either Taehyung or Jungkook.

Which would it be?

You let out a sigh, putting the phone down.

Why did this have to be so difficult? You couldn’t recall the last time you had to make such a damned difficult decision.

Then, the doorbell rang, ripping you out of your focus. You got up and headed for the door, and once you opened the door, you were met by the delivery driver.

"Good evening, Miss. I have a package for you."

"Thank you.” You accepted the package and closed the door. You looked at the package and noted that the sender was Kim Taehyung.

“Gosh, he’s so sweet.” You smiled. He knew that you had been feeling blue lately and must’ve decided that he wanted to cheer you up a bit.

But if he knew the reason for why you were down, he would’ve probably smashed and broken this present in a thousand pieces.

You opened the package, carefully, not wanting to rip the packaging, and took out the present inside.

It didn’t take long for you and Jungkook to retreat to the bedroom after you arrived at his place, and you were soon lying naked on his bed, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy, his fingers buried deep inside you. Your legs shook with anticipation, a soft moan slipping from your lips as your hands tangled in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.

“I love how wet you get for me. All soaked and ready to be fucked," Jungkook flicked your clit with his tongue, before he moved away and started to pump his errection. His fingers were still inside of you, his fingers curling and hitting that sensitive spot deep within.

"O-oh!” Your body curved along with his movements.

“Yeah? That’s a nice spot, hm? Like it right there, feels good there?”

You could only nod, your voice trapped in your throat.

Jungkook continued to finger you, his thumb circling your clit, and you felt your orgasm build up. However, before you could hit your climax, Jungkook pulled away, and replaced his fingers with something much better.

He slowly thrust into you, filling you up, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "Ah, fuck."

You were a moaning mess underneath him, your eyes closing as the pleasure intensified. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. The both of you didn’t speak; simply enjoying each other's bodies connecting.

Jungkook's thrusts increased in speed and power and you could feel the familiar coil tighten again, your body arching as you cried out.

"Close, close…” You panted.

"Come, baby. Let it all out," he whispered in your ear, leaving kisses on your neck.

That was all you needed, and your orgasm came crashing down, a loud moan slipping from your lips.

Jungkook wasn’t far behind, riding out your waves of orgasm until he, too, came.

After the sex, Jungkook went to the kitchen to prepare dinner and you stayed in bed for a few minutes, and decided to check your phone for any notifications, and you saw a message from your best friend.

You joined Jungkook in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island as you watched him cook. His broad shoulders and toned back faced you, and he was only wearing his joggers which he put on after the sex.

It was a nice distraction from the earlier chat you had with Ara. Part of you thought that you went too far, but another part of you felt like it was justified to respond the way that you did. She was constantly pushing you to choose already, but she failed to realize just how difficult it was for you to choose. Both men were absolutely perfect and there was zero fault in them… and that was the whole problem. You had waited for one of them to mess up; to start an argument with you, tell you they were an ex felon, kick a puppy, yell at a service worker, shove an old lady… ANYTHING. But their faults never came, not once have they slipped up and made you think that you wanted to break up with them.

Ara's words played over and over again in your mind.

You are doing this to protect both men's hearts. Yes, that's it.

“Babe?” Jungkook's voice interrupted your thoughts, and you realized that you were staring at the table. He had set the plate in front of you and sat opposite of you, but he noticed you neither acknowledged the food or him. “You okay?”

You blinked and looked up, seeing the concerned look on his face. You managed a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry… I just was thinking of something.”

Jungkook was smart enough to know that something was bothering you, so he didn’t let go, and pressed; “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, looking down at your food, pushing the noodles around with the chopsticks.

Jungkook reached across the table and held your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Just... tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."

You looked up at him. Your expression softened, and you sighed, deciding that you needed to tell him what was going on.

"Well..." You started, your heart pounding against your chest. “I was speaking with my best friend and…” You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell him the truth. You were really going to do this, weren’t you? It felt somewhat… relieving to do this. No more sneaking, no more having two accounts, no lying or cheating anymore.

“She disapproves of our relationship because we are moving too fast.”

You couldn’t do it.

You were such a coward.

“Oh, I am sorry babe, what do you think? Are we moving too fast? I mean, we are in a good place right now, right?” Jungkook asked.

You felt a little bad for making him worry, so you shook your head and gave him a smile.

"We are in a good place. Don't worry about it, she's just worried and doesn't know you."

"Should I meet her?” Jungkook asked.

“Meet who?”

“Your friend, silly.”

Oh boy. If he was meeting her, there was no telling what could happen. What if Ara ran her mouth? What if she told him everything? What if she messed up? No… it was too risky.

“She’s… an exchange student abroad, but if she ever visits home, I’ll let you know, and we can meet up. How about that?"

The lies just kept piling up…

“I missed you.” You murmured against his lips.

“I missed you too.” Taehyung deepened the kiss, his hands slipping underneath your shirt. His touch made your skin tingle and your stomach flutter, his hands were warm and big and his fingers spread over your back, pressing you closer against his chest.

“Did you?” You asked, between kisses.

Taehyung smiled, his tongue caressing your lips, before it slipped into your mouth. You let out a moan, your hands running up his toned arms.

His hands trailed further up, cupping your breasts and you gasped, breaking the kiss, but he didn't give you time to breathe, his mouth capturing yours again. His tongue was dancing with yours and you were left breathless when he eventually broke the kiss, his hands kneading your breasts.

“Mhm, I did. A lot. You are always on my mind. When I wake up, when I go to sleep, during work, when I am working out, in the shower, even when I eat, you are always on my mind, y/n"

His confession made your heart explode, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks, you didn’t expect that answer.

Taehyung took your hand and placed it on his groin. "See what you do to me, hm?" He said with a smile.

Soon, you were riding his cock, his errection peeking through the open gap in his pants, and your panties dangled onto your ankles as you rode him. His hips on your waist and he was guiding your body, making you move the way he wanted.

"I love it when you fuck yourself on my cock," he grunted. “Keep going, love.”

And that you did, until you physically weren’t able to anymore, and Taehyung took over, laying you down onto the bed, and you laid on your stomach, your hips propped up with a pillow as he started to fuck you from behind.

You couldn’t help the cries escaping your mouth, as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with precision. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets, your face buried into the mattress.

His hands were on your waist, holding you steady as he fucked you senseless, and you could hear his heavy breathing. Then, one last pump, and he came first, letting out a deep groan.

He slowed down for a moment, before riding out his orgasm in you, until you came. Your orgasm came crashing down on you, and you whimpered and cried around his cock, and as you laid there trembling, you asked yourself; how were you ever supposed to choose between them?

It didn’t matter.

You didn't want to choose between them.

You couldn’t choose between them.

And like that, time passed by. The two of them showered you with gifts, attention, love, and affection nonstop, every day. You were constantly on the fence, debating whether you should stop or not… but it all just felt too good, you couldn’t imagine life without either of them.

The snow crunched underneath your feet, the cold air brushing against your skin as you walked through the snow covered park, and it was getting colder by the minute. Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your coat to keep you warm.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asked, at which you nodded. He took your hands and held them. “Do you want to go in the Gondola lift?” He nodded his head in the direction of the ski lifts, and you glanced over.

“Yes, that looks fun, let’s!” You followed him, holding his hand. You stood in the queue for a few minutes, wrapping your arms around Taehyung and resting your head against his chest as you snuggled up to him.

Soon, it was your turn and Taehyung held the door open and you scooted right next to the window, glancing out. The view wasn’t that noteworthy yet but you were sure that would change soon.

“There, now we are all together. The three of us."

Huh? You turned your head and looked at him. Taehyung stepped in, and sat next to you, and you noticed the other man standing in the doorway.

Jungkook.

A pang of happiness temporarily shot through your chest, you had missed him and you loved seeing him again, but then a realization dawned on you; they knew about each other.

And that realization quickly morphed into fear, and your heart began to pound.

You were caught.

You jumped up and tried to make a run for the door, but Taehyung grabbed your wrist and pulled you down, forcing you back down on the bench. “You’re staying right here.”

“N-no, I want to go, no!”

Your gaze flickered back and forth between them, and you felt like a trapped animal, your body frozen as your mind ran wild.

Jungkook locked the door behind him and sat down to your left, while Taehyung sat on your right; you were sandwiched in between them.

No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden, babe? Usually you are so talkative, aren’t you?" Jungkook mocked.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you lowered your gaze, ashamed. Afraid to look them in the eyes.

“Don’t you like our surprise? We prepared it all for you, love.” Taehyung placed a hand on the back of your neck, his touch causing you to flinch, and he forced you to look at him. “I thought you wanted us both, and now that we are here, you refuse to talk to us? Is that how it is?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. "Answer him," Jungkook's tone was icy, and your body shook, you were petrified, unsure of what they would do to you. And just like that, you kept your gaze on your lap, and you managed to not say a word all the way back to the end point of the ski lift ride. At the end of the ride, Jungkook and Taehyung guided you back to the cabin, where things between the three of you would change forever.

“If you want two cocks so bad, then fucking take them both.”

You were on your knees, in between the two of them, as they took turns thrusting their dicks into your mouth, one after the other. Their moans filled the room, along with the occasional gagging sound that you made.

Your body was in overdrive; it was as if your brain couldn’t comprehend that your two favorite men in the world were face fucking you both right now.

You didn’t expect it but… you were soaking wet.

“That’s it, show Taehyung how we always do it when he’s not around, don’t be shy baby.”

Taehyung pulled his cock out, and now Jungkook was the one in your mouth. You drooled over his cock, and his hand rested on the back of your head, pushing himself further inside, his errection hitting the back of your throat.

Taehyung took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, and you started to rub him off as you continued to suck Jungkook off. The two men groaned as they hovered over you, and you didn’t think you could hold it any longer.

“I’m wet, really wet, need cock, please.”

At that, Taehyung pulled you onto your feet and picked you up, before laying you down on the bed.

“Wet? Show us then, babe.” Taehyung cooed, pulling your clothes off you, and now Jungkook was in the room as well. “Spread those legs, show us how wet you really are. Do you need cock?"

"Yes, yes, please!" You spread your legs wide, exposing yourself to them, and having both of their eyes set on your pussy made you even wetter.

"This pussy is so greedy, and so fucking needy, it's dripping. Look at that.” Taehyung’s finger lingered down your folds, teasing your entrance. “So wet for us.”

Jungkook got onto the bed, deciding he’d be the first to give you what you want; cock. He hovered above you and slipped his cock in, and you moaned as his length filled you up. You wrapped your arms around him, as he thrust in and out.

This must be a dream.

Taehyung placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face to the side, his hardened cock staring right back at you, and you opened your mouth, inviting him in.

Both men fucked you, and your mind was completely blank.

Taehyung chuckled. “Damn, that pussy really is wet huh, those sounds are something else."

You couldn’t reply, as your mouth was stuffed with his cock, but you knew exactly what he meant, the lewd sounds your pussy was making was embarrassing, but also turned you on more and more. Taehyung’s hands trailed to your chest, kneading your tits. “You love it, don’t you? When we both fuck you. That slutty face tells me everything I need to know, and I bet this greedy pussy is going to come all over his cock soon, won’t it?" He pulled out his cock out of your mouth.

“Yes.. love it.” You tilted your head back, your back arching as Jungkook started hitting you in a good spot. “O-oh…”

Taehyung moved next to Jungkook and his tip teased against your swollen clit, the head rubbing against it, and that nearly sent you over the edge.

“A-ah!” You gripped onto the sheets, as the knot in your lower belly tightened, and your body tensed up, your pussy walls clenching around Jungkook’s cock.

“That’s the spot?” Jungkook teased, gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place as he picked up the pace.

“That does seem to be the spot, look at her face, she loves that spot.” Taehyung started to smack your clit with his cock, and that sent you over the edge, the knot in your stomach exploding, and you came all over Jungkook's cock, a loud cry escaping your mouth. As you came, your pussy milked his cock, hard, and he couldn’t last much longer, his cum shooting deep inside of you, Jungkook rocked his hips back and forth and only stopped when he was sure that every seed was spilled inside of you.

Jungkook pulled out, making way for Taehyung, who eagerly lined his cock up to your entrance. Jungkook came to lay down next to you, pressing his lips against yours as Taehyung pushed every inch into you, filling you up again.

"That's it, take that cock, love, Jungkook really warmed up that pussy for me, hm? It's squeezing my cock, so tight."

Taehyung fucked you with fast and deep strokes, his cock sliding in and out with ease as you were soaking wet, drenching the sheets underneath you. Jungkook started to kiss your tits instead of your lips, his tongue swirling around your nipples.

Your body was completely overwhelmed by pleasure, your head thrown back, and your mouth hanging open, your cries filling the room. You felt Taehyung grab your leg and push it over his shoulder, and pull you closer, his cock hitting deeper and faster, and you didn't know how much longer you'd last.

"Please, more, don't stop, don't stop." You begged, your breathing becoming faster.

Jungkook kissed your neck, "Such a greedy pussy, and it loves being fucked, doesn't it?" He grabbed your hand, holding it as you gripped onto it.

"Mhm, it loves it." You whispered, glancing at both men. Oh they were so perfect, they were everything you ever dreamed of, and more.

"Tell him you love it, baby." Jungkook encouraged.

"L-love it, so much, ah, ah…” You whimpered as Taehyung picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down the bed, your tits bouncing all over the place, and it was all too much. You reached your high, another orgasm rushing through your body, and you cried as your pussy clenched around his cock.

"Yes, yes, that’s it…” Taehyung grunted, his pace now slow and deep, wanting to feel your pussy massage his cock and then he finally released himself, his hot seeds filling you up, and he rode out his orgasm, until there was nothing left to give.

“Oh…” You whimpered, turning to your side, completely exhausted, closing your eyes for a moment.

In the end, you didn’t have to choose.

[tangyneon]

skew lines

A pair of lines which neither intersect nor run parallel to each other.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader tags: reincarnation au; soulmates au; multiple lives; fluff and angst; drama; angst with a hopeful (happy) ending; word count–3927. warnings: character death, non-graphic suicide, brief mention of infidelity, implied domestic violence, panic attack, indirect reference to the Holocaust of WWII. notes (1): please accept my sincerest apologies for any inadvertent inaccuracy. i intend no disrespect towards anyone, least of all towards those who had to face gruesome events in their lives. also, this is a repost. this isn't my best writing but it's my favourite writing, which is why i brought this here from my old blog. also, credits for the header are given in the footnotes.

ONE: KAMAKURA; 1262.

"A lady must never dream," your mother says as she places the wataboshi atop your head, "She must only ever fulfill her duties to her family, silently and obediently."

An errant tear rolls past your cheek, washing away the make-up and hours of your maids’ efforts with it. Your mother, however, pays that no mind and raising you from your seat, leads you out of your quarters. 

As you walk beside her, you wonder... Were you from a humbler origin... Were you not from one of the Big Three Clans, would life have been different? Would you have been freer? Happier? Or would you still have to walk into a union, knowing full well widowhood awaits you by the next sunrise? 

A mangled sob falls past your lips, and you turn to your mother with a pleading gaze. 

“Please, Mother, I can’t do this,” you clasp her hands in yours, entreating her in a broken whisper, “I can’t do what you asked me to do. Ask me to not marry him, ask me to retire from all this to a nunnery—I shall do so in a heartbeat. I will never question you. But please, Mother, I—Brother!?” 

Yanking you away from your mother, your brother drags you by the arm across the courtyard, then stops a foot away from the shrine, his eyes narrowed into slits as he glowers down at you.

“Listen, girl,” he seethes, and you wince from the painful grip he has on your arm, “You’re a Zen’in. You’ve been fed, dressed and kept alive by us, Zen’ins, for the last two decades. Not by that sick idiot inside, you fell in love with, like the disloyal bastard you’re. So, you better shut up and pay us your thanks, yeah?” 

You nod, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.  

If your family wants you to pay them your thanks, you will do so—you decide, while your brother barks at the maids to reapply your make-up before you enter the shrine—just not the way they expect you to.  

Hours later, a small smile lines your lips as your husband enters the room. In a black haori and hakama, the daimyo resembles a deity amongst a sea of mortals—which he probably is, you muse, if the whispers on his prowess in war and court are anything to go by.  

“You’re staring, wife,” An amused chuckle draws you from your thoughts.  

You give a timid smile back, “You’re too handsome to not be stared at, husband.”  

Surprise flitters across your husband’s features, soon followed by an understanding grin.  

You realize he must have seen the empty cups behind your back.  

“Did you finish the sake your brother gifted us, all by yourself, darling? Thought you weren’t a big fan of alcohol?” 

“’m not,” you answer meekly, averting your gaze from his crystalline blue, “Still, I drank.” 

“And may I know why, darling?” Chuckling, the daimyo pulls you into his lap and nuzzles into the crook of your neck—then pulls away when a harsh cough racks through your body. Blood at the corner of your lips, you run a trembling hand through his soft white locks, the fondness in your dying eyes contrasting the shock in his. 

“I want you to live, that’s why.” 

TWO: HOKKAIDO; 1966.

“I want you to live, that’s why.” 

A tired yawn leaves your lips as you throw the blankets off and pad over to the open window, that singular statement still pestering you from your dreams—or, should you say, nightmares. 

Tormenting you for three months now, they have always ended the same—you whispering those words, time and time again, a grim relief settling in your bones as your eyes finally shut, prey to an eternal slumber—until they open again, onto the blood-red digits of your alarm clock. 

Initially, you had ignored them, treating them as figments of your imagination—a side-effect, you had supposed then, of watching sad historical romances. However, when the dreams began to recur and blur into a single overarching theme—love, death, love, death—it was then that you finally decided to consult a professional. 

“A long vacation to Hokkaido is what you need, you workaholic idiot,” you recollect your psychiatrist friend insisting last Friday at your weekly dinner together. “A relaxing bath in the hot springs, a thrilling ski down the steep snowy slopes—and who knows, you might even find a cute man who can keep those dreams away,” she had trailed off with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, which had earned her a pillow in the face. 

Another tired yawn escapes into the chilling night air and you realize how utterly, totally wrong she was.  

Sure, the hot springs are relaxing enough, the snowy slopes are steep enough, the men too are cute enough, still… your dreams seem to have worsened since your arrival here. In fact—Bang! 

Startled, you turn around at the sound—when, out of nowhere, a slender hand pushes you into the wall—and the scream in your throat withers away at the sight before.  

Hair as white as the snow falling outside, eyes as blue as the ocean you’ve grown beside, features eerily translucent yet eerily familiar...  

“Who are you?” Disregarding the warning bells chiming in your brain, the question tumbles past your lips in a soft whisper. 

A long second passes before you receive a reply. 

“No one nice,” The figure finally whispers back, and you bite back a gasp when their frigid fingers dance across your bare arms, “But tonight I can be yours, darling, if you want.” 

You let your fingers tangle in their messy white hair and pull them in for a kiss.  

(Years later, you’ll agree with a laugh, you had indeed acted like a moron in the face of a (definitely paranormal) intruder in your room.) 

(Years later, you’ll also share a quiet look with your friend after such discussions—for she and you alone, will know how much your lover from that night resembled your lover from that dream.)

THREE: NEW ORLEANS; 1884.

“What do you mean by ‘No,’ girl?” 

Your brother huddles closer to you—out of cold or fear, you’re not quite sure. Pushing him behind, you attempt reason another time, “Exactly what you understood, Sir. You see, I’m not that kind of woman. I—” 

“Nonsense! You are all sluts,” The man roars and lunges forwards at you—only to drop dead an instant later. A frown twists your painted lips as you return the gun to your purse—which deepens when you catch the toddler’s dumbstruck gaze alternate between you and behind you.   

Of fucking course, there had to be a witness. 

“To be fair, he was the one who attacked first,” you state, whirling around with your gun raised, “And to be safe, I don’t really mind having another’s blood on my hands.”  

An amused snicker rings through the stale evening air and you feel your muscles tauten in dread. Years of fending for the two of you have taught you to know a predator when you hear one.  

“Or, you could join me, y’know?” 

That doesn’t mean you’ll scamper away like a meek doe at its first growl, though. 

“As what? Some side-hoe?” A mirthless laughter bubbles up your throat and you shake your head lightly, “No, thanks. I’ll pass.” 

A beat passes in tense silence, before the man steps forward into the lamp’s dim light—and you drag your brother closer to yourself, covering his eyes with a palm, whilst your own widen in recognition.  

Silky white hair, crystalline blue eyes, ridiculously tall and handsome—the Boss returns your stunned expression with an even smirk, “And if I ask you to be my partner, what’ll you say? Will you still pass it?” 

“I…” you glance at the child beside you—his skinny figure, ratty clothes, unkempt pink hair, guileless features—and back at the man who stares at you expectantly. A tendril of disgust unfurls in you as you imagine the crimes the sleazy scoundrel before you might have committed. 

“Yes, I’ll pass it,” you answer with an indignant glint in your gaze, “I don’t want my brother to grow in a horrible world like yours.” 

“Not even if you get enough money to raise the kid into a proper gentleman?” 

“Are you trying to fucking buy me!?!?” you snarl at him, taking a menacing step forward—then stop when you feel a little tug on your dress. 

Your hand removed from his eyes, you find your brother peering up at you worriedly.  

Taking a deep breath in, you give the toddler a reassuring smile, and lifting him into your arms, turn to the man with a sharp grin.  

“He doesn’t need your foul money to grow into a proper gentleman. He’ll anyway be one.” 

“As you wish, darling,” The Boss hums with a faint smile at your words, and casting you one last long look, recedes into the shadows he appeared from.  

A month later, you hear the man drove his car off the edge of a cliff.  

“He drank himself to death after being rejected,” your co-worker tells you on the way to the bar. You only frown in response.  

Feeling oddly bereft, you cancel your shows and head home early that evening.

FOUR: NEW LONDON; 2628.

“Get out. Now.” 

Reducing your auditory levels to a bare minimum, you continue folding the clothes.  

You know you shouldn’t be bothered.   

You are a mere housekeeping robot Mistress bought online a year ago.  

Your only purpose is keeping the house clean and going on the odd errand or two—not worrying your circuits off for Mistress, every time voices are raised or things are thrown to the ground.  

Still… your wired heart can’t help but twist when you hear the front door slam shut and a pair of bruised arms wrap around you. “I was right,” your receptors detect a choked whisper, “Twelve years of marriage and he has another woman in his life. Guess I’m that unlovable, huh?” 

Desperately wanting to deny, you emit a rapid series of beeps, nudging your Mistress to look at the wall opposite—and project your first picture with her there. 

In the picture, Mistress is crouched beside you, blue eyes crinkled in a grin while her long white hair flutters in the breeze. On her other side is her friend, a blond man, a polite smile on his face as he looks at the camera. 

(The day it was captured is still as green as the neo-grass you water every morning in the lawns.  

It was your Mistress’ thirtieth birthday that day—although no indication of the same could be found anywhere in the house. Master had left for work at sharp 7 in the morning, Mistress had secluded herself in her home office an hour later and you were tidying the house—as usual.  

With the breakfast over, you were in the middle of returning the dishes to the drawers when the front bell rang. More than a little peeved at being interrupted during your chores, you let the door open after the second ring—to Mistress’ friend waiting with a huge box and balloons in his hands.  

It was only when he hugged your mistress and wished her ‘Happy Birthday,’ that the metaphorical bulb lit up in your processing unit – and you let out a chitter in fear—FOR HOW COULD A TOP-CLASS HOUSEKEEPING ROBOT FORGET AN IMPORTANT OCCASION AS THIS!?!?—only to earn a hearty laugh from Mistress in return. At a loss at her reaction, you quietly beeped at her.   

Grinning, Mistress crouched before you and placed a hand over your dome head. “Don’t sweat it, silly,” she said with a knock to your head, and you let out an annoyed little beep, “I won’t return you to the factory for this tiny mistake. I don’t know what shitty instructions they fed your system but I'm not like that. I’m way too fond of you and your weird little quirks to do that.” 

A relieved beep left you—and you realized, quite contrary to the shitty instructions you had indeed received long ago, you too had grown fond of your Mistress.) 

Happiness worms into your heart when you find Mistress looking at it fondly—then, fills your entire body, from the audio-receptors atop your head to your tiny wheels, when she directs that gaze at you.  

“Thank you,” she whispers, wiping her tears away, then rises, extending a hand to you. “Now, let’s go pick me a killer outfit before we go kick that cheating ass, shall we?” 

An excited chitter escapes you and you zoom past towards the closet—totally ignoring her sudden stillness behind you. 

“Hey, did you just smile?” 

FIVE: WARSAW; 1941.

“Has anyone ever told you, your smile’s really pretty?” 

“Has anyone ever told you, you are really pretty?”

The boy breaks into an abashed grin at your question, and you beam back. 

A comfortable silence befalling the two of you, you return to your book—though your thoughts stray far from the tale unfurling within it.  

The fates must be cruel—you think, dragging your gaze from the tiny letters to a loose thread in your skirt—to give you a life so lonely and quiet, sans family, sans close friends; then bring it close to an end just when you’ve found a person you might want to live it with. 

A tired exhale leaves you as you close your book and flop backwards on the cot. A beat passes before a pair of arms wrap loosely around your midsection. Humming softly, you snuggle into a firm chest, relishing in its warmth—both literal and metaphorical.  

“Anything worrying you, princess?” A soft voice asks, a while later.  

“Not when you’re holding me like this,” you wish to say... yet you eventually decide against it. 

Uncertainty already plagues your mind if you’ll live to see the next morning or not—leaving behind a loved one, or worse, being left behind can only add to the woes.  

Ready with a barefaced lie, you send him a sweet smile—then freeze when a siren tears through the biting night air. A terrified shiver crawls up your spine and you squeeze your eyes shut. Another siren soon follows, then another—and you realize why they are called ‘the siren of death’.  

Dread—the cursed, doomed, endless kind—courses through you like a poison.  

Searing. Suffocating. An awful lot like dying.  

Before you can register it, a wail claws its way out through your throat, and you wrap your arms around the boy. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,” Clutching his sweater, you say, a silent terror in your wide eyes as you peer at him, “I want to live. Here, with you. Please don’t let me die.”

Concerned gaze sweeping over your features, the boy places a warm hand on your cheek—and smiles when you grow minutely calm at the contact. “I won’t,” He whispers to you, quiet and earnest—and you feel your heart stutter, albeit from a reason different to before, “I too want to live, with you. But preferably somewhere else, yeah? This place is cramped as hell.” 

A quiet chuckle escapes you. Brushing his white bangs away, you gaze tenderly into the crystalline blue depths of his eyes. “But do we have the money to afford a bigger place?” 

The boy grins at you.  

“Once we’re out of here, darling, we’ll have all the time in the world to earn the money we need.” 

The enemy forces find your hiding place that night. 

SIX: UENO; 2017.

“They say time’s the greatest healer of all.” 

Gojo’s blank façade shows no cracks, and you grin—though it instantly gives way to a sharp hiss!. Wincing, you press a palm on the gash across your abdomen.

Fuck! That damned sorcerer must have cut you deeper than you thought, huh... still, no biggie! Tis but a tiny scratch and you had, in turn, made him and his associates die choking on their blood. Ha! 

“I never thought I’d find you here,” A quiet voice snaps your self-gloating in half and you peer at the man leaning against the opposite wall. 

Even in the minimal light the dawn has to offer, you reckon he looks an Adonis incarnate—tall with chiselled features, shiny white hair and fitting clothes—add to those, a wealthy background and a flirty persona and you find it's not surprising, really, why Gojo turned out to be the playboy he is. 

“Why are you here?” you ask him, a tilt to your head, “Isn’t there a mission calling you now?” 

If Gojo detects the scorn in your voice, he makes no comment on it. Instead, he crouches before you and removes his sunglasses, revealing his crystalline blue gaze and the stormy allure they carry. 

You frown back at him, unimpressed.  

“The fuck are you removing your shades for, idiot? Wanna get a headache later?” 

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, you can see, yet it disappears within a fraction of a second—and your frown deepens. He’s so unlike the way he usually is... 

“Hey, what’s wrong, Gojo?” you ask, concerned, when a sharp pain tears across your flesh and you swear you black out for an instant. It is then you realize what is wrong—and betraying the fear percolating in your chest, like a fucking leaden weight—you let out a barking laughter.  

“Of fucking course, the blade was poisoned,” you shake your head, a sarcastic smile on your lips, “And here I was wondering why my injuries weren’t going poof! like they do. I wonder how they...”  Trailing off, you let yourself look at your injury another time, when another realization hits you like a freight train—and the smile slips off your lips.  

“You told them, didn’t you?” you whisper, less as an accusation and more as a fact. Gojo averts his keen gaze from you.

Twenty years ago, had anyone told you the arrogant Gojo kid your parents introduced you to at your birthday would one day be your best friend, then your lover, then your ex and finally, the reason behind your death—you would’ve certainly decked them in the face.  

Yet now, as you stare at the man before you, drowning in a sea of guilt, shame and regrets, you reckon life can be a fucking rollercoaster ride sometimes.  

“I don’t blame you, Gojo,” you admit after a while. Gojo makes no response. 

You continue, unperturbed, “You know, it was our fourth year at school when I decided to visit my clan again. They and I were not on good terms then—the absolute worst, in fact... still I decided to visit them. They were my family, after all. But you know what I saw when I went there?”  

Gojo looks at you, a faint furrow between his eyebrows. You drag your gaze skywards, “The entire estate still and silent, my parents, my siblings, the servants lying with a slit throat or a stabbed chest in their beds.”  Smiling despondently, you return your gaze to his shocked features. 

“It wasn’t a landslide which killed them, Gojo. It was those sick higher-ups who killed them—a punishment, they had told me, for my failure at catching Geto.” 

A tense silence falls over the two of you, as you finish speaking, a little breathless—and remains so—until the man breaks it with a silent question. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

You send him a sardonic smile. “And what would you have done then? Killed them? You and I both know, how risky it would have been. And I was unwilling to lose another loved one to the system.”  

A pained groan leaves your lips, and you slowly shift your posture a little, in hopes it will relieve the pain. It doesn’t. You continue, still, “Don’t blame yourself, Gojo. I would have joined Geto, even if you weren’t so distant then. Of course, I could see his mission being a failure from miles away—still, I couldn’t keep serving people I lost my family to, and I didn’t want you to create an animosity against them. And as for now...”  

A sympathetic smile creeping onto your lips, you ask, “They threatened you with the students, didn’t they?”  

You receive no words in return. Instead, a rough palm comes to cover your smaller one. His sparkling eyes now tear-filled, Gojo slowly pulls you into his lap, reminding you of the way he used to do this to you in days long gone—and then used to tickle you mercilessly, like the annoying yet dear bastard he was. 

A quiet chuckle falls past your lips and the sorcerer gives you a faint smile—though you don’t miss the wobble in his lower lip as he does so. “Anything funny you find in this?” 

“No, nothing,” you bite your lip to hold back a chuckle and reach out a hand to touch the tips of his hair—wondering if they still are as soft as they were; they sure do look very soft—only for it to fall to the ground midway. You let out a mirthless laughter.  

“The poison they used was really good, huh,” you muse aloud, then squint up at him, loathing the darkness overtaking your view of him, your time with him.  

“Hey,” Calling softly, you huddle closer to the man, an attempt to gain respite from the chill rapidly enveloping you. The grip on you tightens and you let out a soft whisper, "I want to meet you again. Think we can?” 

Gojo’s forced grin is the last thing you register before your vision blackens entirely and your eyes fall shut.  

“I know we will, darling.” 

SEVEN: ????

“Would this classify as a meet-cute or a meet-ugly?” 

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or cry.  

Your classes will be starting in another minute, in a building a good six hundred metres from here. 

Your seminar papers—the ones you prepared till three in the morning on nothing but ten cups of coffee and sheer will power—are flying away merrily with the breeze; a few even rolling, pitching and yawing (whoa!) as they flee from you.  

Your crisp white shirt—the only white your wardrobe houses and the only colour the seminar allows—is now sporting an ugly shade of coffee-brown—though, you note absently, it seems to be a pretty lighter shade than your usual’s. 

And oh! Last but not the least, you are also nursing a bruised (and perhaps, broken too, if the pain you’re in is anything to go by) ankle on the ground. 

And despite all this, this asshole is having the audacity to fucking flirt right now.  

You decide, you don’t want to laugh nor cry.  

You want to yell.  

Maybe drop in a punch too, to knock some sense into the bastard. 

Sleep-deprived features thrown into a furious scowl, you look up from your injured ankle—a swear, the likes of which will make sailors cover their ears, at the tip of your tongue—and look into a pair of crystalline blue eyes, partly covered by short white bangs.  

The world around you stills.  

And you stare and stare and—yeah, you guessed it right—stare at the man crouched before you.  

A person you know you have loved countless lifetimes before.  

A person you know you will love countless lifetimes later. 

A beat passes before the world resumes; you keep gawping at him still—totally oblivious to (or uncaring of) the cobblestone path you’re sitting on, the weird looks being directed your way, your friends calling you and rushing towards you. 

Gazing at you lovingly in return, you hear the man whisper, “Meet-cute, it is, darling.” 

You lose your balance a second time that day. 

notes (2): MANNN, I MISSED MY OLD WRITING STYLE SO MUCH. also, shifting from blog 1 to 2 was definitely a mistake; here's to hoping my shift to blog 3 won't be counted as one!! © tangyneon 2025 || please don't plagiarise, translate or repost this || characters used here aren't mine || header is by @/3-aem.

[elaineiswithyou-blog]

141 x Reader Soulmate AU

TW: Bad family relationships, Stalking 

I also try to write gender neutral, any feedback would be much appreciated. 

Having four red strings was never easy. No one else could see but when you told your parents you saw four, they made you swear that you would never tell anyone else. No one needed to know their child was a freak. So you hid it, hid it well, but your resentment towards your parents festered and grew until you were old enough to leave, eventually heading to London to study abroad, far away from your parents, ashamed of the truth and your friends, who never even knew the truth.

Your life was fairly uneventful given that you were basically constantly at school. It wasn’t until you were in a cafe, working on an essay that you noticed a small tug on your string. Looking up, you saw a behemoth of a man, wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants despite it being september. His size and striking blonde hair caught you off guard for a moment, you went to pack your things, wanting to go up to him, but when you look back up, he’s gone. You rush out onto the street but it’s like he disappeared. With extreme disappointment, you went back to your laptop, attempting to refocus, assuming it was a caffeinated hallucination, but your mind continued back to him. Little did you know, he saw you really well.

Despite being your soulmate, Simon was always cautious. After seeing you in that cafe that fateful day, he decided he’d scope you out. Going to a few bars you frequented and the cafe where you went when you had important assignments. After getting to know you (everything about you), Simon decided he had done a through enough surveillance to let the others in on you.

John was a little disappointed in Simon holding back some information but given Johnny and Gaz’s reaction of immediately wanting to meet you, he understood why Simon didn’t tell them right away. They watched you through a few cameras in the cafe and street while they were on leave, Simon loving how you looked at any tall blonde man with hope in your eyes. He’ll be there soon, love. 

Once they got back from deployment, they decided that they would wait for you to go out instead of tracking your string, much to Johnny’s disappointment. As soon as they notice you at a bar nearby however, they get dressed up semi nicely (AKA not in a hoodie and sweatpants), heading there immediately. They sat in a semi circular table in the back of the pub, watching you as you had your usual friday drink after a hard week of classes. John bought you another drink and as you looked around confused, the red strings and the striking blonde caught your attention immediately. You almost choked on your drink seeing the bastard in the cafe, not to mention his three other very hot friends and your soulmates at the table. I knew I didn’t imagine you, you thought, standing up and rushing over to the table, Johnny and Gaz beaming, and even a small smile from Simon and John. They knew you were going to be trouble and they loved it.

[lieutenantfloyd]

My Red Thread - Gambit x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: After being sent to the Void alongside your chaotic companions Deadpool and Logan, the very last thing on your mind is the rarity of a soulmate bond. That is, until yours snaps into place. (Soulmate! AU)

Warnings: Fluff, mutant! Reader (undefined powers), a bit of romantic tension, attempts at humor, Wade Wilson ruining The Moment™️

Authors Note: For some reason editing this took way longer than actually writing it did. I’m still getting a feel for the characters, so I apologize if anything is kinda ooc! :)

Read on AO3

Laying with your back against a mostly broken couch, you have a view of the full room, including a set of stairs that allow streams of sunlight to cascade in. Your eyes shift lazily between Logan—who's taking the opportunity to drink himself into oblivion— and Deadpool—who's closing out his second straight hour of snooping through drawers and cabinets.

When the three of you awoke in this new location hours ago, you almost instantly flew into a fit of arguing. First about how and why you were here, then about who would be the first to go up the stairs. After a much heated debate, the consensus became that an unknown person—agreed to be either the ghost of Johnny coming back to avenge himself or the vengeful, forgotten sister from earlier—brought you here for reasons that probably didn't end with any of you walking out of here alive.

Whoever it was most likely got the drop on you first, seeing as how you decided to try your luck at hitchhiking through the void instead of sitting around and watching your two companions tear each other, along with your only ride, to shreds. As for the situation with the stairs, a rare moment of agreement was shared when you decided to stand and fight whatever possible threat was lurking. Once that was decided you all assumed the positions you currently found yourselves in.

With each tick of the dusty clock on the wall, you were growing more and more impatient, You'd been fighting for your life, quite literally, from the moment Wade got you sent to the void. Now your adrenaline had all but crashed, leaving your body to scream in agony over being brought to the brink of death more times over the last twenty four hours than you’d ever care to count. It was at the point now that you honestly began to wish that whoever had brought you here would muster up the cajones and come finish you off for good.

As if on cue, you and Logan sat upright as you sensed movement outside. You rolled off the couch and joined Wade in the middle of the room, taking up fighting stances while Logan simply sat back in his chair and continued nursing the bottle of whiskey he found without a care in the world.

Prepping for yet another fight, you were left feeling as dumbfounded as Deadpool looked when Elektra descended into the room. Your hands stayed raised but your mind began to run with possibilities. Wade began a refreshed round of incessant rambling, not missing a beat as Blade followed Elektra into the room only seconds later.

Your eyes shoot over to Logan in an effort to ensure that someone a bit less prone to hallucinations than you and Deadpool were seeing this too. His eyes flash confirmingly to yours. You swallow hard, having a brief internal battle with the childhood version of you who apparently thinks that now is the best time to start fangirling.

Tuning out Wade's awkward banter, you try and piece together the situation unfolding in front of you together. You were well aware of how people got sent to the void, but you realized then that you never thought any deeper about who exactly you could run into during your stay.

With fatigue setting deeper into your bones, you lean your hip onto the dusty wood table beside you. You fall halfway out of your defensive stance and let Wade command the room as usual, tuning back into the conversation just in time to hear him make an oddly pointed quip about some man named Ben Affleck.

Picking up on more movement from above, your attention shifts across the room. Your eyes lock on the stairs as if glued there. You to watch on silently as a shimmery purple card floats into the room and a man follows closely behind. You barely have enough time to register the flashes of purple dancing away from his hands before a force you have never felt before—and have absolutely no interest in feeling again—slams so solidly into your chest that it sends you flying over the table you were leaning against.

"Fuck!" "Merde!"

You yell out in unison. Instinct has you pulling yourself up off the floor as soon as you hit it, albeit slowly, as you try to call the air back into your lungs. Using the table for support, you manage to raise up on shaking feet. The once busy room has now fallen deadly silent. Quiet in a way you hadn't experienced since joining up with Deadpool several months ago. You suck in a few intentional breaths before letting your head rise up from its hanging position.

"What the hell was tha-" you start, only to fall silent as you take notice of everyone's eyes flashing between you and a man who looks just as confused and winded as you do.

Time seems to slow as your eyes lock with his. A smaller blow hits you somewhere deep beneath your ribs, though this time you only stumble.

"Ho-ly shit!" Wade gasps, bringing his gloved hands up to his face and flicking his head back and forth dramatically between the both of you, no doubt starting to pick up on what's happening.

A second thrumming blooms in your chest then. It's equal parts similar and different from your own. Your mind nearly starts to panic, but it's silenced by something buried in your chemical makeup coming alive.

Wade drops his hands from his face, only to end up pointing at you like an old Spiderman meme.

"You two are-"

"Soulmates," you breathe out.

Absentmindedly, your hand rises to your chest. The feel of your soulmates' heart beating in time with yours is oddly comforting, in a way not unlike finally coming home after a long, difficult mission.

Soulmates were a rare but well documented phenomenon back in your reality. Most people would go their entire lives without meeting someone who was lucky enough to bond, let alone experience it themselves. You silently cursed all of those articles and accounts you read as a hopeful tween for failing to mention just how sudden and violently the bond snapped into place.

"Say something! Suck each other's faces off! Maybe even-"

"That's enough," Logan hisses, slapping a large hand down onto Deadpool's shoulder.

You laugh awkwardly at the absurdity of this entire situation. Unsure of what to say or how to go about any of this. Bonded or not, you and the upsettingly handsome man in front of you were still strangers.

"I've been lookin' for you a long time, mon amour." He drawls. And fuck if his sultry cajun drawl isn't something you'd be happy to hear for the rest of your lifetime.

'Well, It's good to finally meet you, um..." you stammer out, only to remember that you hadn't even learned his name yet.

"Remy!" Elektra whispers to you excitedly.

You repeat his name under your breath, somehow feeling like you miss it as the syllables roll off of your tongue.

"It's lovely to finally meet you, Remy," you try again.

Logan takes the opportunity to introduce you like Elektra did for Remy. He sends you a soft smile as he learns your name, though it shines so bright and warm that you can't decide if you want to fall back against the table or leap into his arms.

You step towards him, happy to feel both of your heartbeats pumping in your chest as you both move to close the distance between you. When you're only a mere inches away from each other, his hand rises into view, silently asking permission to caress your cheek. You wait with bated breath to feel his touch, only for it to fall short when a certain red and black clad anti-hero steps between you—acting as if your entire world wasn't just flipped on its axis.

"Sorry to interrupt this precious little love session you two have going on, but I feel that I must remind you of the very pressing matters still at hand," Wade says with a look that is anything but sorry.

You look to Remy, whose face says only that he's ready to explode Deadpool with his mind and reach around Wade to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You smile up at Remy, and watch as an unmistakable look of complete adoration flashes across his eyes.

You use your powers to send the mercenary flying backward through the air, leaving him screaming as you finally close the gap between you and Remy.

He brings you into his arms without hesitation. A stray tear slips from your eye as you realize just how right his touch feels against your skin. His nimble fingers wipe away the tear that fell onto your cheek, already coming into tune with the thousands of different emotions flowing through you.

"Don't cry chéri, Gambit's gotcha."

His words bring a fresh new crop of tears to your eyes. You savor the contact for several long moments before reluctantly pulling away. You waste no time in reaching over to interlock your hands, pulling him back a few steps.

A chorus of stifled laughter sounds throughout the room as you spot Wade stumbling back onto his feet. You squeeze Remy's hand when you hear him mutter "couyon," disapprovingly, something that earns another round of poorly dampened laughter from the group.

"Wade,” You call over to him, "Are you done being an asshole for the time being?"

"Never!”

"Can you idiots focus for five seconds?" Logan asks from the corner while taking a swig of whiskey. The rebuttal you’d prepared for Wade does in your throat, but you still give him a disapproving eye roll. Deadpool, unable to have someone speak up before him, pushes his way past Logan.

"Yeah, like I know the writer needs to hit their word count and all, but we've still got a baldheaded bitch to kill."

Getting out of the void has always been your top priority, but with your newfound bond, it felt all the more pressing.

Stepping aside to let Wade through, he begins to command the room as always. Ideas intertwine with his usual self deprecating jokes. You and Remy stand next to each other on the sidelines, as tensions begin to lower.

As the night drug on, the conversation began to buzz with urgent anticipation. Everyone takes a shot at pitching an idea or strategy that plays to some of their strengths. Logan had retreated outside while Blade, Electra, and Wade stood and paced around the room, focused on the task at hand.

With guards lowered and tensions gone, you and Remy retreated to a nearby couch. You both gave out the occasional opinion or bit of intel, but your minds never strayed far from each other.

The conversation slows, and you felt Gambit's hand brush against yours. You reach out and intertwine your fingers with his before he can back away. His fingers tighten against yours gently before letting up. You mirror his squeeze instantly, a thousand words passing in the silence hanging between you. You lift your eyes and meet his gaze, giving him a soft, barely perceptible nod. You can the low kinetic current coursing through his touch. It serves as yet another reminder of how strong your bond already feels.

Your head drops onto his shoulder, earning a low hum. Just above a whisper, and with a smile playing on your lips, you both promise that no matter what lies ahead, you are ready to face it—simply because you now have each other.

[lara635kookie]

Kpop Demon Hunters Review:

Jinu is coming back guys. He is, trust me bro.

Also, I got it wrong with the secondary ships.

It's Zoey and Mystery (with their son Baby Saja), and Mira with Romance and Abby (Pink hair visual trio) lol. Zoey and Mystery is kinda cute and interesting because of the idea of a high energy extrovert girl with a guy who is the complete opposite, could be a fun dynamic, but I still like her and Abby better. And the pink tall trio... They are hot and have a fun dynamic, which is enough to make them work. These pairings don't really matter a lot because they were there for the comedy but...

RUJINU? JINUMI? RUMINU? RUJI? RINU? JUMI? JIMI? RUNU? CLAWSTAR? (Because she's a pop star and he has claws, it sounds just as beautiful as Ghostflower, anyways)(Yes I've seen people refer to them as all of that, some of those are sound bad but the others are mostly perfect) They served love at first sight, meet cute (in a subversed way, I loved it) enemies to lovers, forbidden love, soulmates, age gap(Jinu is at least more 400 centuries old and still look that good, we stan) she fell first but he fell harder, yearning, longing, teasing, trauma, drama, angst, banter, pet parenting, FOR IT TO END LIKE THAT???

No seriously, we need a sequel. I need to know the story of Rumi's parents. How did they meet? How did they fall in love? And how did they have her? What happened to the third Sunlight Sister? And what happened to Rumi's father? And Jinu's father(because we only see his mom and little sister)?

But one thing I got right and CELINE WAS THE REAL VILLAIN ALL ALONG.

Imagine how PAINFUL it was for Rumi to want to know more about her father but never being able to, never being allowed to, because Celine would tell her he was a mistake? Implying she was also a mistake? Imagine all the times she had to hear all demons are evil and bad? Including her father. Including herself. It must have had her think badly even of her own biological mother for falling in love with a demon. Or thinking her father did something to her mom.

Meeting each other truly freed both Rumi and Jinu. It showed Jinu he doesn't care just about himself. It helped Rumi to accept herself and sing again.

And there is so much left to explore. Jinu's pain in being the man, the provider, and abandoning his mom and sister in his father's absense and how he'll deal with this memories he can't erase once he comes back (which he will, leave me alone). Mira's insecurities and her apparently messy relationship with her family. Zoey's feelings of being divided between the US and Korea. Bobby's pressure as the girl's manager.

Celine having to accept that not all demons are bad, and Rumi being the way she is, and seeing her adopted child fall in love with a demon, just like her friend and fellow hunter groupmate, Rumi's biological mom, once did.

Imagine her finding Rujinu's special objects:The handkerchief Jinu gave her to cover her marks, the envelope he sent her(Jinu has his bracelet, I bet she would notice that too). I want this woman to see the past happening again right before her eyes, see history repeating itself, and DEAL WITH IT.

Also, I need more names, man. Rumi's biological parents name. The Saja Boys names instead of their stage names. The tiger and the bird's name(which I headcanon as Long and Taia at first, Idk why, but their names are Derpy and Sussie). GIVE ME MORE.

I gotta write about it. It just gave me so many ideas for an AU with Rumi and Jinu's daughter. Rumi and Jinu would raise her in the way Rumi's father and Rumi's mom couldn't raise her. And how Jinu could go like:"I lost my mom. I don't want you to lose yours, too." To Rumi and Celine and her reconcile or Celine just dies, I'm still deciding.

It was explained that demons steal souls to feed Gwi-ma. Sure, they seem to eat it, too, like the water demons, but it doesn't seem like it's something essential to the others as it is to Gwi-ma. Souls to Gwi-ma seem mandatory. For the other demons, seems like delicious little treats they could give up eating.

I need this sequel now. I'm willing to wait others 4/5 years for this or more. I don't care.

Anyway, it shattered my heart, and it broke me into a million pieces. I totally recommend it. The songs are all fire, the visuals are insanely beautiful, and it does feel kinda rushed at times, but it's clear they did what they could with the time they had and I hope they realize the potential and the popularity of it and give us a series or a trilogy, or just a three hours long sequel, idk man anything to have MORE of this.

[rustcoloredraccoon]

Raccoon's Dumpster of Ideas: JayTim Soulmates AU

According to the legend, the red string of fate ties soulmates together. It may tangle and stretch, but it will never disappear. Back when people couldn't see them, they used to assume it was tied around people's pinkies. Tim never truly understood why, that's such an inconvenient place for it to be. But as humanity evolved with more and more alien races and magic users mixing into the population, soon it turned out it was not just a legend. It was just they weren't ready to see them yet.

That part held out to this day. You only saw the red string of fate once you were ready to meet your soulmate. Some people could see it all their life and met their other half in kindergarten. Some people only begin to get a glimpse after years and years of intensive therapy. Some people never see it in their lifetime.

But everyone's string is in a different location. Since nobody else can see your string, it's all self reported, but Tim has heard of cases where it was on someone's ankle and they constantly tripped over it. Then there was a case where someone only realised they had the string when they went to get their ear pierced as it was right on their left ear.

Tim's, as unfortunate as it was, was around his neck.

He had always been very glad that nobody else could see it. He had first developed it at the age ten, and thankfully, it had mostly been lax enough that he could breathe easily and it never cut into the skin. The only times it went tight - when his soulmate was actively harming their bond - was in moments when he already had a hard time breathing through the pain. But in those moments it went tight enough to draw blood.

Everybody had thought Jason had cut his throat. Tim couldn't deny that, so he just omitted the fact that it wasn't done with a knife.

Jason would probably never see the string tying them together. Maybe that was for the best. His end was tied around his hand, resting on his knuckles whenever he formed a fist to deliver blow after blow in the Titans Tower or in the batcave or anywhere else their paths crossed.

Tim sometimes wondered what those fights were like for him. He couldn't see the string but did that also mean he couldn't feel it going tight? Or did he just assume it was the usual discomfort that came with hitting someone?

Not that it mattered. Tim would most likely never know.

Another version of this would've had the string in Tim's mouth so whenever it went tight, it would force him to "smile" like the Joker, just to give Jason even more reason to freak out, but then I decided I prefer the version you can see above.

I have posted about having this idea before, because it was the original concept for Day 6 of DickTim week that I scrapped because I felt like it suited JayTim better. I was actually sooo ready to write this, but the more I'm sitting on it, the more I realise that I can only come up with the concept and the vibes, but no actual plot. (This seems to be the common denominator for a lot of the ideas that end up in the Dumpster) What you can read here is the beginning for the first chapter before I got stumped for good.

I also considered making this my Jaytim week project, then Tim would've wished to be soulmates with different people I associate with the colours of the given days, but since I was already working on my DickTim week fics and I'm not good at writing so many things at once I just dropped it.

[sungbeam]

nonidol!jung sungchan x f!reader

at some point beneath the glittering summer sun and along evening tides, you and sungchan tripped over the line drawn in the sand.

▷ genre, warnings. brother's best friend!au, friends-ish 2 lovers, family vacay + sungchan lol, swearing, kissing, fluff, humor, sungchan does go shirtless (it's a beach), mentions of food, mentions of alcohol; lee jeno, sohee, and anton r ur brothers! (so u have the lee last name but u "look more like ur mom"); barely proofread, also im sorry if this is boring my head has not been in the game for Months

▷ word count. 10.0k

DISCLAIMER: i DO NOT actively write for or stan riize; this is literally just a birthday present T-T so if dynamics/personalities aren't right, i literally don't know these guys 💀

a/n: happiest birthday to my beloved soulmate and wife @justalildumpling :')) i hope u like it <3

OFTEN when you came back home from work, your joints and muscles ached to the point you could barely stand, your hair felt gross on your head, and your eyes stung from dehydration and sleep deprivation. That was the toll of working closing shift at the restaurant you worked at, and had been working at, for the past several years. 

It wasn't out of the ordinary to see the lights in the house still warm and bright when you got home either. Your family was a handful of night owls, not discounting yourself. They had witnessed you in this particular rat-nest dump of a state time and time again, which was why you didn't worry about looking like Death Incarnate. 

“Hey.”

Your soul left your body. 

Sitting on your living room couch was not a family member. Though, he might as well have been a part of it from how much you had been seeing him lately. Jung Sungchan was your older brother Jeno's best friend, but Sungchan was in your year rather than Jeno's. The two met via the high school soccer team and had been good friends since. 

Years later, he was sitting on the living room couch, nearing one in the morning, his hair damp from a recent shower, T-shirt sleeves rolled up his shoulders, and his phone paused from the game he was playing. Your brain was too tired to even register the amount of muscle packed onto his arms (what the fuck—). 

“Sorry, did I scare you?” He chuckled sheepishly, reaching up to ruffle his dark hair, grown out slightly. 

“What are you doing here?” You blurted instead. Exhaustion meant that conventional politeness was completely defenestrated. It was one in the morning on a summer night… usually your older brother was out clubbing or drinking (not that you were any different, but you worked quite a bit more nights lately). 

Sungchan's eyes danced up and down your form. “Jeno and I decided we're gonna pull an all-nighter for the road trip in—” He glanced over at his phone, “—seven hours and just knock out in the car. How was work?”

Road trip? Car ride? If you could just make it to the shower… “It was fine. Tiring,” you said with a sigh. You trudged over to the far side of the room, behind Sungchan, into the kitchen. You grabbed a cup to fill with water, then drained it down your throat just as fast as it had been filled. 

With water in your body, your systems were finally coming back online. Road trip. Car ride. Your eyes widened. “Oh my god. I have to pack.”

“You haven't packed yet?” He queried, tone light and teasing as he watched the progression of your panic with amusement. “Even Jeno's packed.”

You sputtered back at him, “Quiet, you!”

Sungchan's warm laugh followed you out into the hallway and all the way to your room. You couldn't understand why your face felt so hot; you should have been too preoccupied to be embarrassed, after all. 

You slammed your bedroom door shut, dragging a hand down your face. You couldn't believe Sungchan just saw your I-just-worked-for-eight-hours-in-customer-service face. Not even some of your closest friends had seen the aftermath of your night shifts at work yet. 

Crazy. 

It wasn't every family vacation where a plus-one was invited. Your family tried to set aside time for these trips just for the six of you, but this time was an exception. Somehow—you weren't a part of the delegations—Sungchan was invited on this summer's trip to the coast. Your mom mentioned offhandedly it was because Sungchan “was a nice boy,” or something to that effect. Your family rented out a cabin right along the beach for a week, and the lot of you were going to be stuck in the family minivan for a good eight hours together. 

And if Sungchan was tagging along, that meant you were going to have to fight for the middle row seat or—

“Yn—you’re in the back with Sohee and Anton.”

You came to a screeching halt on your way out of the house, a bucket hat shielding your puffy eyes from the waking world, your duffle strapped over your shoulder. It was seven hours later—an ungodly eight in the morning. “What? Nuh-uh; I don't think so.”

Jeno stood only a few meters ahead of you by the door of the minivan, his hands primed on either side of his hips as if he was the self-proclaimed guardian of the car seating chart. “Well, I said so. Sungchan has longer legs than you—”

“Why don't you sit in the back then?” You shot back with a saccharine sweet smile. You were too tired for this shit. 

Sungchan scratched the side of his head as he walked out of the house to stand by you and join the argument, his flip flops thwacking against the ground. “Uhh, I can sit in the back middle seat. It's cool, dude.”

“Sungchan's too tall for the middle seat,” your dad interjected. He took yours and Sungchan's bags to add to the trunk. “Yn's in the back. Sorry, hon.”

“Dad,” you groaned. 

“You can switch with Jeno half way.”

“Dad!” Jeno squawked this time. 

Your father gave a tired sigh, saying more than he would ever say aloud. “Everyone in the car. Can't you two be like Sohee and Anton? At least they're knocked out.”

“They know they'll be sent to the back without question,” you pointed out as you made your way to the minivan. As you passed by your brother, you sent him a very potent stink eye, then clambered into the back row. 

Like your father had said, your younger brothers, Sohee and Anton, were already dead asleep. Their mouths hung open wide enough to catch any wayward fly with their heads angled back against their neck pillows. You snorted and snapped a photo of them to add to your collection of brotherly blackmail. 

Your mom was settled into the front passenger seat already queuing up driving directions to get to the coast. From your perch in the middle, you had a clear view of her phone screen—seven hours and two minutes. Yay. 

You supposed there wasn't anything too terrible about the middle seat; you were out like a light as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway. 

When you woke up, it was about four hours later, and your parents were having a hushed discussion amongst themselves and Sungchan. A baseball cap had materialized on top of Sungchan's head at some point when you were asleep, and the sleeves of his T-shirt were once again rolled up to expose his muscled shoulders. Did this guy not have a tank top?

“...I like it, at least—well, I don't mind all the extra requirements, and I know it'll help me reach my ultimate end goal, so.”

Your mom let out a hum of approval. “Ah, that's good that you like it. You'll be busy as a nurse.”

Right, Sungchan was in the nursing program. Your brother wasa kinesiology major, and you were going into law. It made for quite the diverse pool in the car. 

You opened your mouth in a yawn and fumbled your hand around your lap for where your earbud had fallen out of your ear, carefully so that you didn't shake off Anton's head on your shoulder. (Oh no, was he drooling?)

“Yn-ah, good morning,” your mother teased quietly. 

You glanced up, eyes going wide when you realized both your mom and Sungchan were now peering back at you. “Morning,” you murmured. Your fingers enclosed around your fallen earbud to tuck it into the case left in the bag at your feet. 

“Sleep well?” Sungchan piped up. There was that twinkle in his eyes, the same one from last night. It made your stomach twist in a way that was more pleasant than not. 

You cleared your throat, unconsciously reaching up to adjust the placement of your bucket hat and praying you didn't look like a sewer rat. “For the most part,” you replied. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “I had a decent power nap. Your mom says you're going into law. That's really cool.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Thanks. And you're in nursing, right? That's cool, too—super admirable.”

Sungchan's mouth widened into a small grin. “Thanks. It's only our first year, but it feels like so much work already.”

“Right? Tell me about it…”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the family van pulled into the parking lot of a diner off the interstate, exactly halfway through your journey. The seven of you, weary and hungry, filed out of the vehicle and into the establishment. You and your parents slid into one booth, while your brothers and Sungchan occupied the one behind you. 

There was a low-spun fan swirling above your heads, an 80s song you vaguely recognized wafting through the air at a dull decibel. Your phone was stashed away in the bag tucked into your end of the booth seat while you idly sipped on your glass of iced water. 

You jolted at the feeling of something light hitting the back of your head. 

A gasp from behind you. 

You rolled your eyes, twisting around in your seat while picking the wadded up straw wrapper from your hair. “Who did it?” You deadpanned. 

The boys table was filled with sheepish expressions, to their credit. Your younger brothers, who were sitting on the far side facing you, thrusted their fingers in each other's faces in a torrent of blame and accusation. 

“Aish, never mind. I don't care who did it,” you dismissed. Your eyes caught onto Sungchan's. He sat just diagonally to your left and for some reason, his eyes on you made you feel warm. 

You flicked the wrapper back; it hit Anton square in the forehead. Jeno barked out a laugh. 

“Nice shot,” Sungchan nodded, extending his fist to you. 

You couldn't suppress the smile from coming onto your face as you bumped his fist with yours. 

Food arrived swiftly afterward, and it was demolished as quickly as it came. In the sway of a palm tree frond, the seven of you were back in the confines of the family minivan. 

The remainder of the car ride carried over quickly. Though Jeno unhappily sat his ass down in your previous spot with you claiming his from before, he and your other brothers snored away five minutes in. You didn't go back to sleep despite having a full belly and less than five hours of sleep under your belt; you watched the world pass by outside the window in a blur. 

Urban skylines melted into rolling emerald mountains and pastures, sank into palm trees and sandy shores that met a blue horizon as far as the eye could see. 

The beach house your family rented this year was a two story cottage-type. It was small, with only one bedroom and bathroom upstairs, a bathroom downstairs, and a living room and kitchen. The rest was all beach. It was determined that you and your mom would be given the honors of the upstairs bedroom and bathroom, while all the boys piled into the living room. 

Once everyone was settled in, there was little else to do but go make use of your new backyard for the next week. 

“Yn! Come on, slowpoke!” Sohee shouted at you from the shoreline with cupped hands. You saw his bare back as he splashed into the waves after Anton, who was already only a speck in your vision. 

Your bare feet sank into the sand, and you wiggled your toes between the warm grains. Sunshine, glorious and concentrated above the distant horizon, soaked into your skin. Ah, this was the life.

Just as you reached for the hem of your shirt to reveal your bathing suit, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Jeno and Sungchan were coming onto the beach from the front of the house, a disassembled volleyball net hanging between them. 

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head at the sight of Sungchan's back—

Before Jeno or any of your other brothers or Sungchan could catch you ogling, you gave yourself a nice, mental slap to the face. No more. You needed to stop this. When did you ever look at Sungchan like this?

(You could still remember when he was the gangly kid with the growth spurt trying out for the high school soccer team. He was paired with Jeno to test his potential, and the rest was history.)

Sungchan was the first to spot you as he and Jeno determined a place to set up the net. He beamed boyishly, his chin inclining toward you. “Hey, wanna play?”

Your eyes flickered to the corded necklace hanging from his collar and between his—Yn, shut the fuck up. “Sure,” you said simply, feigning nonchalance. 

If he noticed your wandering eyes, he didn't comment. Instead, he nodded back at you. “Sick.”

You both turned back to your original tasks. Your hands went back to the bottom hem of your shirt to tug it up and off your body. (Maybe you weren't the only one with wandering eyes, though.)

You draped your clothes over the back porch railing and began making your way down to the shoreline. “I'm gonna take a dip and then come back up!” You said to Jeno and Sungchan. 

“Oh, okay—ow!” 

You didn't see nor hear what happened, but when you glanced back, Sungchan had his back turned to you as he furiously rubbed the back of his head, while Jeno smiled innocently. 

Your older brother waved you along. “Carry on!” He said. 

Walking backward for a couple steps, you shot him an incredulous look, then turned around to meet your little brothers in the ocean. Whatever. 

You had been staring at the wooden ceiling above your head for the past forty-five minutes. Your mom's even breathing and the ocean waves rolling outside the window failed to rock you into unconsciousness. You'd figured the sunlight from this afternoon would have made you tired, or perhaps all the food you ate for dinner, but your eyes continued to stay wide open. 

A quiet sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled over onto your side and gently peeled the covers off. With near silent footsteps across the oak floors, you slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

The cacophony of combined snoring from all the men in the living room was comparable to the volume of the waves just outside. 

You barely contained your snort of amusement. You didn't worry about waking any of them up as you crossed the living room, full of a smorgasbord of limbs and bodies draped across the large couch sectional and blankets on the floor. 

The back door was left unlatched when you reached its threshold. Outside, moonlight dappled across the calm sea like a sprinkling of diamonds. You slowly pried the door open, freezing. 

You and Sungchan made eye contact from across the back porch. He was perched on the top step, nursing a bottle of beer in his hand. A loose breeze wafted through the strands of his hair. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, moving to retreat back into the house. 

“Oh, no—please.” He patted the empty space next to him on the porch step. 

You blinked, at odds. He was clearly out here for a reason and you'd figured he wanted some space, but if he was inviting you, then… 

You closed the back door behind you and settled beside him, with a comfortable amount of negative space between your bodies. You folded your arms over the tops of your knees and stared out at the midnight horizon. It smelled of salt and sea spray, and the light wind was a refreshing crispiness against the humid evening air. 

“Couldn't sleep?” He murmured, glancing over at you. 

You nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He hummed in response. 

“I'm not surprised,” you said. The corners of your lips curled upward. “I wouldn't be able to sleep amongst my brothers either. Their snoring could wake a bear.”

Sungchan sputtered out a laugh as his eyes crinkled upward and he pressed the back of his knuckles against his mouth. “I wasn't gonna say it, but…”

You shared a grin with him. “I will happily say it for you, dude.” 

His eyes were stunning in this lighting. The moonlight hit his irises at an angle that made them shimmer like a shade of molten copper. He licked his lips, and you saw his eyes dart from your eyes, down a few inches, then further down to the beer bottle in his hands. 

“Oh, uh,” he stammered, tipping the bottle nose in your direction, “want some? I thought the alcohol would help me sleep, but it's not looking awfully promising.”

For a split second, your heart leapt at the thought—your mouth pressed against the place his mouth had been, tasting the place he'd drunk from. 

You dashed the thought from your mind. It couldn't have been so significant as your brain was making it out to be. You were probably just sleep deprived. 

“Thanks,” you said while reaching across the gap to accept it from him. Judging by the weight, it was just about half full, and you took a light swig. 

A drop of liquid dribbled out of the corner of your lips, and you swiped it with the pad of your thumb, sticking the finger into your mouth to suck it off. You passed the bottle back over to him, catching his eyes not looking at yours. 

(The organ in your chest was no longer in your chest. Was it normal for your heart to make a home in your throat instead? Why did he look at you like that?)

“Any reason for not being able to sleep?” You asked him to break the silence. “I mean, besides the symphony my brothers and dad are conducting, of course.”

His eyes shuddered, as if breaking out of a trance. “Oh, uhm—nothing in particular, I guess. Maybe it's just from all the excitement. I think it's usually hard for me to sleep in new places.”

You bobbed your head in understanding. “No, I get that. It takes me a little to get used to new environments, too. I don't know how I would have survived if I was living in the dorms at uni and not at home.” The university you attended was a decent commute from your house, so living on campus was never something you gave much thought to. The idea of living independently appealed to you sometimes, but in general, you didn't have a ton of qualms against your circumstances now. 

“For sure,” Sungchan whistled lowly. He contemplated the opening of his beer bottle, then took a gentle sip of its contents. “Have you made a lot of friends? I feel like it's a lot harder than people make it seem.”

You passed him a curious glance this time. “Some, but it's definitely not as easy as high school. You haven't made a lot of friends?”

“The soccer team, mainly,” he chuckled. “The occasional ally in my classes.”

You let out a bright laugh that made his smile widen. “'Ally?’” You parroted. “What a fun word to call classmates.”

“It's true!” He insisted, chuckling. “Some of these professors are evil, man. Competitive grades? Not a chance,” He scoffed. “We're all in this together, even if the curve is against us.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud, but the rolling waves likely covered your noise plenty. Your family were deep sleepers. 

“I just figured that you meet lots of people,” you offered when your mirth died down to a giggle. You toed a pile of sand sitting on the last step of the porch. “Your socials are pretty active,” you said, “but I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover.”

“I could say the same about you, Miss Party Girl,” he smirked. “When are you gonna drag me to a rave?”

Heat raced up to your cheeks. “I've only been to one,” you said, rolling your eyes. He'd seen that post? First, the post-work daze, and now, the turnt raver? “I haven't gone to a party in a few weeks 'cause of finals anyway.” 

Now that you thought about it, you'd been so busy as of late, you couldn't even count the amount of outings you'd declined on your two hands. 

“Trust me, I get it.” He raised his hands in an act of surrender, his knees angling toward you. The negative space was suddenly a lot less negative. 

Another tip of his beer bottle; it swapped hands once, twice more. The liquid dribbled smooth down your throat just as Sungchan knocked the rest back. The empty glass made a dull thunk sound as it hit the wooden porch to Sungchan's right. 

“So what I'm getting,” you drawled, mimicking his position by angling your knees toward his. You felt your legs brush—the stimulus sent a jolt down your nerves that warned of addiction and tasted like the forbidden. “Is that you've never been to a rave before?”

Sungchan gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe I have.”

You mocked his shrug. “Maybe you have.”

“Or maybe it's just that I haven't gone with you yet.”

Even the waves seemed to quiet for a second. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, and you tied down the nervous laugh ready to bubble out of your mouth. You bit your lip and found yourself nodding. “We'd paint the town red, Jung Sungchan,” you murmured. 

There it was again—that flicker of his gaze to some place you both knew crossed a line. It was the beer, was what you were telling yourself. It was the beer. 

Seagulls surfed the ever-blue sky. Eternal summer could be thought of as a filter of golden, glittery gauze across one's already rose-colored glasses. But summer, truly, was the shade of Jung Sungchan's tank top peeling off his body as he sprinted down the sandbank after your brother, Anton. 

You watched the fabric whip around in the salt breeze before settling into a heap where his footprint melted into the mineral grains. You were giving Sohee the sunscreen spritz-down up on the covered porch, while Jeno barreled down the bank after his friend and brother. 

From behind you came the scratch of the back door sliding open. You and Sohee peered back to where your mom poked her head out. 

She just barely caught her sunglasses in time as they slipped off her head. “Hey, your dad and I are heading out. Watch each other, okay?”

“Got it!” You and Sohee chirped. 

One more nod from your mom, and then she was gone. Your parents were going to take a date into town, just the two of them. That left you and the boys here with the surf and sand—definitely not a terrible compromise. If you wanted, you could probably have the whole house to yourself, anyway. These guys could entertain themselves. 

“Yn! Sohee!” 

Jeno arced one arm up into the sky to beckon you down to the sea, only to get dragged underwater by his two comrades. You and Sohee harked out twin laughs as you watched Jeno fight for his life with limbs flailing and foam flying into the sky. 

You patted Sohee's shoulder as you set the can of sunscreen onto the porch step. “Alrighty, you're good to go, bro.”

“Thanks—race you down!”

“Hey!” Your laughter echoed as you bolted down the sand after him to join the fun. 

As your feet dug into the wet embankment, your palms made purchase against Sohee's shoulders to shove him into the water. A yelp leapt into the air, and you turned away to avoid getting hit in the face with the consequence of your prank. 

“I'm so gonna get you for that!” Sohee spat water out of his mouth, a wicked grin pulling onto his lips. 

“No, you're not, actually!” 

You bolted—well, stomped, your way through the knee-deep water, furiously trying to get away from karma. Water yanked down on your limbs in a forceful coax to give into your punishment, but you were determined. 

You could hear your brothers’ hollers of encouragement: “Get her, Sohee!” and “RUN, YN, RUN!”

Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you pushed your legs harder. 

“I got her!” Wait, was that Sungchan?—

You suddenly felt a pair of hands on either side of your waist—you swore as your legs came out of the water and your world twisted. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” You squawked, squirming wildly in Sungchan's arms as he scooped you into his hold like a bride. (NO. NOT LIKE A BRIDE. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE A BRIDE?—) One arm cradled your back and the other under your knees, and he laughed—he chuckled—as you attempted to flip yourself out of his grasp. 

“You're not getting out of this, party girl,” he said close to your ear. 

For a heartbeat, you lost your breath at the rasp behind his words and the grin on his face. But a heartbeat was all he needed. 

There was free fall, and then all sound muffled as cold water engulfed your body. You plugged your nose and screwed your eyes shut. You felt your ass hit the sand at the bottom in slow motion, before the air in your lungs began to lift you back up to the surface of the water. 

You broke out with a gasp, hair flipping back as you furiously swiped your hands down your face to get the water out of your eyes. They stung like a bitch, but you could feel the rush of blood in your ears; it was thrilling. 

A hand in your vision enclosed around yours.

“You asshole!” You scowled up at Sungchan from where you knelt, though it was half-hearted. 

He beamed back at you boyishly with damp hair hanging in his eyes and water running down the crevices of his stomach like a goddamn system of canals. “You're a good sport, Yn.”

“I'm really not.”

You had the distinct pleasure of seeing the smile slip off his face before you used his grip on you to yank him into the water. You swallowed a good half pint of saltwater, but the revenge couldn't have been sweeter. 

When Sungchan's head broke the surface, it was followed by a dog-like shake of his head. You laughed to turn away from the spray of water; Sungchan delighted at the sound. 

Amusement still lingered on your lips as your eyes snagged on the piece of seaweed that made its home on his head. You didn't think twice about it before leaning closer to reach it. 

You stepped forward, and—oh boy, was that a mistake. 

You had a front row seat view of a droplet of water slipping down the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, and the cliff of his chin. You wrestled down a swallow, and pulled the seaweed off his head, flinging it into the water. 

“You had, uhm, a little…”

“Right, thanks—”

You both flinched apart as a man-made wave of water crashed into your sides. “AMBUSH!” Your three brothers declared, springing up out of the water and parading a full-blown attack with all weapons firing. 

You and Sungchan were swift to launch your own counterattack. 

Merriment filled the summer air as much as saltwater embedded into your skin and eyes and mouth. You almost made the mistake of thinking your racing heart was just from the determination to beat your brothers, and not from the guy on your side of the war. The heat was getting to you and the sun was getting to him.  

It was about an hour later that you found yourself lazing upon the slick and smooth plane of a surfboard. The ocean rocked you gently from beneath the board; it had been surprisingly calm all of today. 

At some point, you and the boys established a truce in the Great Water War, mainly because your brothers were hungry and there was a big, juicy watermelon just begging to be cut open and devoured in the house. 

Suffice to say, you let your brothers figure it out. 

Your consciousness faded into the foreground of your mind as a distant sound of splashing neared. You peaked one eye open, lifting the rim of the hat up to see who dared to encroach upon your isle. 

You could recognize Sungchan's mop of hair from a mile away, at this point. You couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing, but why did it have to be either?

He cropped up right beside you, pushing back his hair to keep the water out of his eyes. “Hi.”

A smile curled onto your lips, teasing. “Hi. Good swim?”

“Good nap?”

“As good as one can be on the open ocean,” you said, shifting the hat up so you could see him better, but keeping your face shaded. “I don't know how dolphins sleep with half their brain on.”

Sungchan's brows rocketed toward his hairline. “They sleep with half their brain on? Crazy.”

“I know. I can't even stay awake with half my brain on.”

You and he shared a laugh, and he set a palm on the board next to your body. “Aw, no,” he assured. “If you've got less than half a brain on at all times, then I've got one brain cell.”

“Joke's on you, half my brain is half a brain cell.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. Cute. “Sweetheart, hate to break it to you, but that's not how brain cells work.”

You nearly fell off the board. “Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, do tell.”

“I'm not about to talk about neurons on my vacation.”

You challenged him with a look. “Overruled, counselor. Answer the question.”

His mouth fell open in a stunned daze, and his reaction made you break face for a moment to laugh. He blinked. “I have to be really honest with you…” Sungchan carded a hand through his hair, then pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “That was really hot.”

Was it suddenly five degrees warmer out here? 

If blood rushing in your ears was akin to the sound of waves crashing, there must have been one hell of a tsunami in your veins right now. 

You sputtered a laugh. “You need to get out of the sun—”

“I'm sorry I said that aloud,” he grimaced sheepishly. 

“Nurse? Nurse!—” You feigned raising your head up to look around for an imaginary nurse in the middle of the ocean. “Oh, right. You are the nurse.”

He groaned, tilting his head back and playfully punching your shoulder. “You're so—”

“Hot?”

You howled at the sight of his cheekbones blooming the color of ripe watermelon. “I'm kidding; I'm teasing!”

He sighed, smiling despite the pain etched onto his gorgeous features. “Never living that down, am I?”

You shifted your position to laying on your stomach now, your arms folded beneath your chin. Sungchan carefully turned the surfboard so the tip faced him, and you were trapped in his gaze, head-on. “It was cute,” you consoled. 

“So you think I'm cute?” He cocked a brow. 

“And you think I'm hot.”

He flicked water at you. “Aaand, there it is!” 

You laughed again, delighted at the red lingering on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. God, he was fucking gorgeous. 

A beat passed for a second. Something settled between the two of you, a thing you couldn't yet put a name on, but it had been there since last night. Or maybe it had been there longer, festering in the negative space between you until said space could become something of a memory. 

You weren't sure why he was here—why he'd swum out here to meet you when his best friend was back at the beach house, gorging on watermelon and getting his ass handed to him in Mario Kart by his siblings; why he all of a sudden occupied a part of your mind like the tide creeping up the embankment at four in the afternoon. At first, he was far enough for you to settle into a false sense of security; until all of a sudden, there he was, the foamy waves lapping at your feet and his smile the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes. 

His tongue swiped over his lips and he cleared his throat. “So, uh, watermelon?” That was his original reason for coming out here. (He did volunteer, after all.)

You perked up. “Right, sure. Watermelon.”

“Great.” He broke into a smile, but the corners of it were softer, fonder. You could get used to the look of it. 

There was this saying—the elephant in the room—but here in the cabin living room, it was definitely more of a blue whale. Just completely out of the water, weighing about thirteen tons, the size of twelve school buses… yeah, that sounded about right. 

“GO FISH!” Anton flung his finger across the circle at Jeno with the glee of a kid on Christmas morning. “Suck it!”

Your mom sent an express glare his way. “Anton.”

Your youngest shrunk down sheepishly. “Sorry, eomma.”

The seven of you were settled in the living space this fine evening with a deck of cards. Your parents were on the couches watching the movie on screen and the game before them, while you, your brothers, and Sungchan huddled around the coffee table playing said game. Sunsoaked and weary, it only took one hearty and filling dinner to perk the lot of you right back up like a field of sunflowers.

“This is a stupid game,” Jeno sulked as he examined his hand of cards. 

“You only say that because you're losing,” you pointed out. “Anyways, Jeno, can I have that three?”

Jeno cut you a glare as the rest of the table rolled into fits of laughter. Your smile was cheeky, reaching out to snatch the three Jeno revealed he had during his turn. 

“That's cold,” Sohee snorted. 

Your eyes darted over to Sungchan opposite you. His eyes were glimmering. “Yeah, I didn't know you had so much ruthlessness in you, Yn.”

“Why do you think she's going into law?” Jeno grunted. Though one card less, it meant that he had one less pair in his finished pile. At this rate, you might win and end up with the most pairs. 

“Guys, it's literally just how you play the game.” You nodded over at Sohee. “Sohee, do you have a jack?”

Your younger brother handed it over without ceremony. “Unfortunately.”

“Anton, do you have an ace?”

He shook his head. “Go fish, noona.”

“See?” You said to the rest of the table, but your eyes went to Sungchan's. “The nature of the game.”

They let you off the hook because you didn't plunder everyone of their cards this round. It continued on with Sohee, then Anton, before landing on Sungchan. 

He made a show of considering his cards, a furrow between his brows. He glanced up at you over the rim of his hand and gestured with a curl of his fingers. “I'd like that ace, Yn.”

“Oooh,” Anton giggled. 

Jeno grinned as you extended the ace across the table to Sungchan. “Karma.”

“Thank you—” his fingers grazed against yours as he plucked the card from your grasp, “—very much.”

You pressed your lips into a small smile, nose wrinkling up at him. You had a few cards left to rid yourself of. 

Your dad cleared his throat as he stood up from the couch to bring his empty bowl to the sink. “By the way, are you kids still going into town tomorrow?”

The five of you exchanged brief eye contact with one another. “Yep.”

The idea had come up during dinner after your parents came back. They'd mentioned a variety of activities and little shops to visit that might be fun for you to see, including a hand churned ice cream shop and a port side arcade building. It would just be the five of you going, while your parents would walk down to the beach trails about a mile from the cabin to go hiking. 

In the morning, you and everyone else in the house took your time getting up and ready for the day. Breakfast was taken together at the table before you split off into your separate parties. 

Jeno took the wheel with Sungchan riding shotgun, and you sat in the middle row with Sohee, while Anton occupied the back. You rolled down your window to rest your chin on the fold of your elbow, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you watched the scenery pass by. 

Right in front of you, Sungchan also had his window rolled down with his arm propped on the lowered sill. He chatted animatedly with Jeno about whatever game he and all three of your brothers were playing this morning, but you could feel his gaze go to his side view mirror more than once. 

The ride was an easy, breezy one. 

The main town center bustled with locals and visitors alike in the late morning. Jeno found free parking about a block away, and the five of you walked over as one big group. 

“Ice cream first!” Anton declared with one arm raised toward the sky. 

“I concur,” you chimed in. You lifted your sunglasses up slightly so you could read the town directory easier. “Seems like we're close by.”

Anton nodded in approval. “Onwards, then.”

You and your youngest brother led the way. The idea of ice cream made your mouth water, especially since you could already feel a bead of sweat dribble down your spine. Why was it so goddamn hot?

The shop was a cute, little building with a pink and white striped awning and a large window in the front that gave visitors a front row view into the ice cream churning experience. You snorted as Anton pressed his nose up against the glass, a wide grin splitting his face. 

“You're scaring the workers, dude,” you jested, tugging your brother along. 

Anton scrunched his nose up at you. “You scare me every morning.”

“Just because you're a wimp when I put toner pads on—hey! Do you want ice cream or not?” You cackled as he attempted to flick you square in the forehead. 

Jeno groaned. “Guys, can we please act normal for once?” He asked as he swung the door open for everyone. 

Sungchan beat you to the punchline, slapping his friend on the back while he ducked inside. “That's rich coming from you, man.”

“Hey!” 

The squabble was swiftly swept out of your mind when you stepped foot into the shop. You were nearly knocked over from the potency of the sugary waffle cone scent that occupied the room. At the sight of tubs upon tubs of frozen treats kept within the display case, your entire face lit up, eyes going glassy with wonder. “Oh no, too many to choose from,” you gasped, cupping the lower half of your face. 

Sungchan chuckled beside you as he crossed his arms and assessed the dozen options before you. “I didn't know you were such an ice cream fanatic, party girl,” he mused. He glanced over at you with a fond sort of gleam in his eye. 

“Don't even get her started,” Sohee groaned. “She and Anton have a sweet tooth to rival Willy Wonka.”

Anton flagged down one of the workers, having already found his targets to try. He was in here for less than two minutes and was already rattling off the entire menu to the poor girl behind the counter. 

“Tiramisu sounds really good,” you muttered. Your eyes moved slowly from tub to tub. Another gasp flew from your lips, and you clasped a hand on Sungchan's shoulder. “Wait—but strawberry shortcake—hhhhh.” You wrinkled your brows together, lips pressed into a taut line. 

This was not good. 

“You could always get a double scoop,” Sungchan suggested. 

You bobbed your head. “That's true, but I'm just worried I won't be able to finish, y'know.”

“Well, maybe I'll get one of the flavors you want and we can split.” His shrug was all too casual. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, biting his lip through a smile. 

The organ in your chest gave a hop, skip, and a leap. You weren't sure if it was at the thought of it all working out alright or if it was because of Sungchan's generous gesture. You were telling yourself it was the former, but you could be persuaded it was the latter if given a light shove in that direction. 

When everyone's scoops were paid for, you fell into a loose formation to stroll around town while you finished your treats. 

You and Sungchan were glued to each other's sides out of necessity since you were sharing flavors. Jeno walked on his other side, however, lapping at his cotton candy blue scoop seated upon a throne of waffle cone. The two youngest walked in front, leading you all to wherever they wished to go. 

The town itself was rather quaint when you finally soaked it in. It seemed like the kind of place everyone knew everyone, and if you were new or only visiting, the locals were just as friendly and welcoming. The town center was stocked with anything a resident might need—a small grocer down the street, clothing stores and restaurants lining the boulevard, a newspaper stand at the corner, a laundromat, a hardware store, and more places you were certain you wouldn't be able to see in just one walk. 

As you scooped a bite out of some of the last bits of tiramisu in Sungchan's cup, Jeno was summoned up to his brothers who were debating over which way they should turn next. You and Sungchan lingered behind to finish off the ice cream in your respective cups. 

Just as you slurped up the melted shortcake ice cream at the bottom of yours, your eyes caught onto a storefront behind Sungchan. It was decked out in cliché boho-chic, with braided nets, shells, and sand dollars in the window and over the door frame. The souvenir shop seemed to embody the quintessential tourist trap, and you didn't mind falling into it. 

“—guys, we're gonna go to the arcade now!” Jeno said, beckoning you and Sungchan over. They must have decided on a route then. 

You made your decision. “You guys can go ahead! I'm gonna pop into this place for a second. I promised I'd get my friend Minjeong something.” Minjeong was one of the few close friends you made at university, and though you didn't promise to her face you'd get her something, you were determined to get her a little trinket as a token of your affection. 

“You're gonna go alone?” 

You blinked. “Yeah, I'll just meet you guys at the arcade.” 

Sohee piped up, “But mom said buddy system.” Okay, you should probably honor that, but it wasn't as if the four of you always followed that rule. 

“I'll go with you.”

All eyes went to Sungchan who tossed his empty cup and spoon into the nearby trash can. He gave a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. “I wanted to get my mom something anyway.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously as Jeno narrowed his eyes at Sungchan, like they were communicating telepathically. Odd. 

In fact, you didn't really know what to think about being alone with Sungchan. There was a difference between coincidentally ending up on the porch together or conversing in the ocean away from everyone else, to purposefully breaking off from the group to spend time with each other. 

Then again, he said he was getting something for his mom. That gave a different implication to him volunteering to accompany you. The goal was capitalism, not something forbidden.

Maybe you were thinking about this too much. 

“Okay, fine,” Jeno relented. “We'll meet you at the arcade, but don't take too long or we'll leave without you.”

“Aye-aye,” you teased, raising a hand to wave goodbye to your brothers. “C'mon, Sungchan.”

You dumped your empty ice cream cup and spoon into the trash before slipping inside the souvenir shop with Sungchan following right after you. You lifted your sunglasses up on top of your head, skin prickling with gooseflesh from the draft of air conditioning wafting overhead. A soft-toned acoustic played in the background, accompanied by the cheery greeting of a staff member from behind the register. 

You and Sungchan lifted your hands in warm reply, then disappeared into the aisles to explore. 

Your fingers grazed along the racks of clothes branded with the beach town's name and minimalist artwork; your eyes roamed over the ships displayed in bottles on the walls, the not-for-sale surfboard hung for decor. Like many souvenir shops, there were several turning displays that boasted rows upon rows of themed keychains with specific names engraved into them. 

“I will never find my name amongst these,” Sungchan mused quietly from beside you as the two of you rifled through the surfboards and seashells and sharks. “And yet, I look for the S names all the time.”

“Valid,” you nodded. “Sometimes I can't find my name either, but it's the hope that gets you.”

“And fails you,” he pointed out.

“Touché.” 

Near the keychain displays stood a tower of hats and head accessories galore. There were crocheted bonnets, straw hats, ball caps, and even headbands. Your expression glittered as you plucked up a headband with twin sunflowers on the top like a pair of antennas. 

After hanging your shades on your shirt color, you donned the headpiece, twirling around to show Sungchan. “Thoughts?” You asked, failing to sweep your grin away. 

Sungchan beamed back at you. “Oh, you're too cute.”

You ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck to reach for another headband—this time, one topped with red crab claws. Sungchan graciously bowed his head for you to crown him with the piece. 

“Fabulous,” you declared with your hands on your hips. 

He peered into the small mirror to the side of the hat rack. “You think?”

“Of course.” So much so, that you pulled out your phone to snap a picture. You tilted your head toward his to fit both of your faces and headbands in the frame. 

Sungchan peered over your shoulder to take a glimpse at the photos. His tongue was jammed into his cheek, and you could feel his breath along the shell of your ear. “Send me those?”

“I'd need your number first.”

He grinned boyishly, roughing a hand through his hair before taking your phone from you. “You don't even have to ask.”

As he saved his contact information into your phone, you attempted to calm the giddy butterflies in your stomach by peering back into the mirror at the headband on your head. You squished the plush sunflower heads with your fingers, humming thoughtfully. “I low-key wanna buy this.”

He glanced up from your phone before handing it back to you. “If you buy that one, I'll buy this one,” he replied, pointing up at the crab claws on his head. 

“You're such an enabler,” you jested. A beat passed. “Okay, but only if you get it with me.”

“That is what I said,” he chuckled, eyebrows arched. 

The remainder of the time you and Sungchan spent in the shop was mainly to figure out what you would purchase for Minjeong and what Sungchan would buy for his mom. (Mainly, implying that there was still room for shenanigans.) It took a little more than half an hour, but you both emerged from the souvenir shop with a gift bag each, containing your headbands and the baubles bought. 

The arcade was only about a ten minute's walk from your location, so you and Sungchan took your sweet time getting there. As the two of you walked—the backs of your hands grazing against one another, shoulders bumping—you nearly forgot that Sungchan was your brother's good friend. Jeno had never made it a point that you and his friends should never mix, and you knew he could care less about your love life, but this was different. (Was it?) It felt like something that shouldn't happen, and yet, why were you starting to want it so badly?

The outside of the arcade was a cream colored building, much like the others in town, but with large posters on the outside beckoning guests to come in and try their hand. Your brothers texted you to let you know they were in a game of laser tag right now, so that gave you and Sungchan a little more time to yourselves within the arcade. 

“I have an idea!” Sungchan grabbed your free hand and hauled you off toward something in the distance. 

The feeling of your fingers slotting with his had more than just your steps skipping. “Hey, man—you and your long legs need to chill!” You hollered at him through a laugh. 

He sent you a look over his shoulder before stopping at one corner of the arcade. With jazz hands, he presented his marvelous idea. “Ta-da!”

Before you was an all-time classic: Dance Dance Revolution. 

Your eyes widened just as your smile did. “It's like you read my mind,” you marveled. 

The machine was just like the movies with a multicolored screen of bright blues and purples, a platform with two sets of arrows in the floor, and two arched rails at the back for each player to hold onto as they danced the night away. 

Sungchan marched up onto the platform and fished a wadded up paper bill out from his wallet. “Have you played before?”

When the machine devoured his money, the screen leapt to life and blasted its opening music to announce that somebody was willing to step up to the challenge. 

You set your gift bag down at the foot of the platform and climbed up to join him. “I've only seen it done before, but I've always wanted to try it.”

You and he locked eyes, and you were sure the twinkle in his was a reflection of just how excited you were. 

“Well, today is your lucky day, party girl,” he chirped. “Let's see what you've got.”

It didn't take long for you to figure out that “what you've got” was a lot less than whatever Sungchan had. 

You grappled onto the railing behind you tightly as you stomped your feet against the coordinating arrows that flashed on-screen. How long had it been since that fateful first round? Ten minutes? Two days? It was all mashing together. 

“This is unfair; you have longer limbs,” you groaned after missing a few arrows in a row. Why were you so out of breath?

A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of Sungchan's head. It was almost comical how serious you were both taking this game. “I have practice,” he corrected cheekily. 

“Same difference!”

“A master never blames his tools.”

You huffed. “Bullshit.”

At this point, your losses were becoming ridiculous. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

For a sequence you knew you were going to miss, you leaned over and pinched his side. Sungchan jolted—it did the trick, and he missed the steps. His head whipped over to you, an impish gleam in his irises. 

“Oh ho ho… you wanna play that game?”

You placed your hand on your hip as the round ended. “If I'm gonna lose, might as well go out with a bang.”

His tongue swiped over his lip. “You're on.”

The next round commenced, and adrenaline spiked through you like a spear, more powerful than before. You knew to expect Sungchan's revenge, but you struck first. 

A poke at his side resulted in a tickle at your waist. You returned his parry with a blind poke at his stomach. 

Anticipating his response, you spotted his arm incoming out of your periphery and moved to step out of his reach. Instead of solid platform, however, your breath hitched at the feeling of half your sandal slipping off the edge. 

Sungchan's eyes went wide and his arm instead curled around your waist and hauled you to him. “Shit,” he muttered, “are you okay? Sorry, that was totally my fault.”

Your palms had landed on his chest, your heart rate slowing but not fast enough. All of the excitement in your veins was likely more so from the game itself, and not from almost falling off the platform… and perhaps, another part of it was you realizing just how close you and Sungchan were now. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I'm completely fine; don't even worry about it. And it wasn't your fault—I miscalculated my step and I started it anyway.”

He pressed his lips together. “Still.”

“Nice catch, by the way,” you said quietly. 

You saw his eyes leave your gaze, and this time, you followed in his movements. He ducked his head, almost shyly. “I guess so,” he chuckled. “I'm glad I caught you.”

If anything, your heartbeat was gaining speed again. The hand pressed into your waist was a little more addicting than you would have liked, and his mouth was closer than you thought it had been. 

In the neon glow of the Dance Dance Revolution screen, you and Sungchan leaned toward one another with one aim, and one aim only. 

“Hey guys!” 

You leapt off the dance platform at the same time that Sungchan zipped to his side, gripping the railing with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights. 

You pressed a hand against your palpitating heart and turned to find all three of your brothers bounding over to where you and Sungchan were. 

“Oh my god,” Anton gasped, “is that DDR?”

It seemed that Anton and Sohee were more focused on the game than yours and Sungchan's compromising position. But Jeno… you noted the suspicious narrowing of his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest…

You swore you and Sungchan swallowed at the same time. 

“Did we interrupt something?” Jeno drawled. 

“Nope!” 

You and Sungchan looked at each other at your simultaneous answer. Great. That definitely wasn't even more conspicuous or anything. 

Jeno pressed his lips together. “Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. “Well, Mom and Dad texted and asked for us to meet them at the house, so we've gotta go.” He lifted the screen of his phone up for you to see. Dear god, you hadn't even realized they'd texted the group chat.

You cleared your throat. “Right.” 

You picked up your gift bag, and your younger brothers immediately flanked you on either side to gush about the game of laser tag they had just partaken in. Though you nodded and engaged in their conversation, your mind was elsewhere. 

Plus, it was hard not to be hyper aware of the fact that Sungchan was now alone to face Jeno somewhere behind you. You were not looking forward to the car ride back.

There were always some, unspoken fine lines that should not be crossed—at least, purposefully. In retrospect, you knew Jeno didn't care about who you chose to spend your time with, as long as they treated you right. In the same vein, you didn't care much about what he thought when it came to your own decisions, and yet, you found yourself caring a little more because this was one of his friends. Not yours. 

But feelings were feelings… and you were slowly coming to terms with yours. 

It was like déjà vu when you crept down the stairs in the dead of night for the second time this vacation. You simply could not bear staring at that wooden ceiling any longer with your mind reeling from this afternoon's events. 

The living room was yet again a cacophony of light snoring, and you crossed the room toward the back door once more. 

You paused again, the sight of Sungchan's back a familiar one. Instead of sitting on the porch steps, though, he leaned against the railing, gazing out at the dark waves. It was yet another calm night out on the embankment, but the moon tonight was hidden away behind a few wisps of cirrus clouds. 

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you greeted softly, gently closing the door behind you so you could join him at the railing. It was funny how you both were on the same wavelength. Fate had a funny way of encouraging you.

You and he hadn't properly spoken since the arcade, and Jeno hadn't said a word about it to you either. Dinner had gone on normally enough, so you were unsure of where this all stood. 

“I wanted,” Sungchan began, “to talk to you about something.”

You glanced over at him and found his eyes already on you. “Sure, of course.”

He straightened, gesturing to the sandy beach beyond. “Walk with me?”

You nodded and followed him down the porch steps. Your feet met the cool grains of sand, and a sense of calm seeped into your bones from the bottom up. 

A hand outstretched in your vision, uncertain. You clasped your hand in his palm, and the pair of you began to walk. You couldn't recall whether you began to adore the feeling of your hand wrapped up in his earlier or just now. 

“So…” you trailed off. 

“So,” he picked up. “About earlier today. I wanted to, uhm, make sure we were on the same page about something.” 

He stopped you both when you were a good distance from the house, where the waves slipped along the sand louder than the snores. 

“I had a really fun time with you today,” he said. 

You nodded your head in earnest. “I had a great time with you, too.”

He smiled then, hand letting go of yours to drag over his face. “I'm—I’m happy to hear that,” he replied, and you were sure he was trying to hide his growing giddiness. 

You reached over and gently pried his hands away from his face. “Did Jeno talk to you about today? Did he say anything?” Before he could reply, you added, “Because I know he means well, but who I choose to spend my time with is my decision. If he can't handle us together, then he'll have to learn to suck it up.”

“He did say something to me about it,” Sungchan admitted, “but it was just to make sure I wasn't playing around.” With his hands locked in yours, he gave your palms a reassuring squeeze. “And Yn, I'd like to take you out sometime—properly. No playing around.”

No more toeing the line in the sand. 

Your heart rattled violently in your chest. “I'd really like that.”

His expression melted into something tender, like the dark swirls of molten chocolate in the scoop of tiramisu ice cream. His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “Okay,” he murmured, barely audible over the soft laps of the waves, “good.”

He considered you for a moment longer, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “I also—I did intend on kissing you earlier today, and I probably should have prefaced it, but—mmmh!”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled his mouth over to yours. He sank into your hold with a content hum, his hands slipping around your waist to tug you closer to him. You'd never really thought about what kissing Jung Sungchan would be like, but you knew that your imagination couldn't have been better than this. 

When you broke apart with your foreheads pressed against each other and sharing breathing air, you let out a small laugh. The sound coaxed a warm chuckle out of your counterpart. 

“Sorry,” you breathed against his lips, “I probably should have asked first.”

He smiled against you. “You can apologize by kissing me again.”

He most certainly didn't have to tell you twice.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! (idek if that was good, im off my Game and off my Rocker dkfnrj)

m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @meosjinn @fluorescentloves @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @kflixnet

[justnatoka]

Murder Capital of the World

Gentle touch of the Sun - Chapter 1

Poly! Lost Boys x Fem! Reader

A/n: A lot of this was written about a year ago, when I was just starting out with writing fanfiction, so you can edfinitely see some clumsy writing in some parts. At least I can. But I decided to mostly leave it as it was, because it's interesting to see how my skills and style has evolved over time. I definitely couldn't have written this series a year ago in a way that felt right, so in the end I'm pretty happy to come back to it with a bit more experience. I'm hoping I can do this idea justice, because I'm definitely a sucker for a good Soulmate AU.

Word count: 5.2k

Warning: fluff, lots of platonic emotions, childhood best friend Michael, meeting your soulmates, slight confrontation but also sweet sweet tension (hehe), a few uses of Y/N

Summary: You arrive to Santa Carla to visit your childhood friend you haven't seen in a year. But along with the happy reunion, you find secrets and untold stories, as well as four strangers who seem to share some history with Michael. And there's just something about them.

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Welcome to Santa Carla. Murder Capital of the World.

You breathed out an amused laugh as you glanced at the back of the sign through your rearview mirror. So it really was there, just like Michael had told you. It’s not like you didn’t believe him, more like you didn’t expect it to still be there a year later. Surely, it can’t be too good for business. But judging by the number of tourists you saw as you rolled into town, and from the stories your friend told you over the phone about the beach parties happening in the summer, the ominous sign didn’t seem to have much effect. Most people probably chalked it up to the same thing you did: some local teens trying to cause trouble.

You felt like you knew the town already, even before setting foot in it for the first time. You’ve heard a lot about it over the past year, ever since Michael and his family moved there. You kept in touch regularly, none of you wanting to give up on a lifelong friendship just because he was suddenly many, many miles away instead of the other side of the street. He told you all about the sandy beach where people held bonfires, and about the boardwalk where seemingly the whole town gathered on hot summer nights. You couldn’t deny that it sounded like a fun place.

You turned off on one of the dirt roads leading up into the hills overlooking Santa Carla. Going up the winding backroads while trying to keep in mind the instructions Michael told you about which turns to take, you caught glimpses of the ocean and the beach down below. The waves were rolling gently into the shore, and you could see a few surfers out on the water. You wondered about how nice it must be to live in a place like this.

You finally turned the last bend in the road, spotting the house. It certainly had a… unique charm to it. In a beat down, old hippie kind of way. As you rolled in through the gate, you could already hear Nanook barking inside the house, alerting everyone to your arrival. You barely got out of the car when the front door burst open and the pupper bolted towards you. Dropping down on your knees, you welcomed his energetic greeting, eagerly petting and rubbing his fluffy head and body, earning yourself many slobbery kisses in return.

“Hi there, Nanook! I missed you too so much! How are you doing, you good boy?”

His answer was more excited tail wagging and licks to your hands. You basically saw him grow up from a puppy, having spent many afternoons and holidays at the Emersons’, and it was undeniable that you were one of his favorite humans, aside from Sam of course.

“Admit it, you only came to visit Nanook,” you heard a familiar voice, and as you looked up, you saw your childhood friend standing on the porch stairs with an amused smile.

“Why? Did you think I came for you, Michael?” you teased right back, a wide grin spreading on your lips when he pretended to be offended.

With a last pat to Nanook’s head, you stood up and met Michael halfway as he walked up to you, crushing him into a big hug.

“God, I missed you,” you sighed.

“We’ve been talking every week on the phone,” he chuckled.

“I know, but it’s not the same.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You fell into comfortable silence, the two of you taking a moment to soak up each other’s presence for a bit. You grew up like siblings, and you would be lying if you said the move hadn’t been hard on both of you. Before they left, you promised to visit as often as you could, but then life got in the way, as it always does, and none of you could make the trip sooner. You were just relieved to finally see each other.

Squeezing you one more time, Michael pulled away to get your bag from the car.

“I saw that Santa Carla is still the ‘Murder Capital of the World’,” you mused.

Something changed in Michael’s expression at that, but it was gone the next second, his movements barely faltering as he shut the car door. You probably would have missed it if you didn’t know him so well.

“Yeah, I guess no one bothered to take it down.” He sounded so casual, you figured it was probably nothing serious.

Nanook followed behind you into the house, where you were immediately greeted by Lucy, who pulled you into a warm hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again, honey! You wouldn’t believe how excited Michael was when you told him you were coming. He wouldn’t stop talking about it,” she sent a smile towards her son. You could barely contain your grin as he started blinking rapidly in embarrassment.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Lucy,” you replied, feeling genuinely happy to be so warmly welcomed. But then again, she always had a way of making you feel at home.

“Yeah, I thought he would never shut up,” came a voice from behind you, and you turned around to see Sam coming down the stairs.

You gave him a quick hug too, and playfully ruffled his hair as you let him go, earning an indignant yelp from him.

“It’s good to see this place didn’t kill off your fashion sense,” you teased.

“Yeah, I mean a man has to take care of his appearance,” he muttered, already in front of a mirror, trying to fix the damage you caused to his perfectly done hairstyle. You just gave him a good-hearted eyeroll.

“Mom, I’m going to town to meet the Frogs,” he shouted, already moving out the door.

“Have fun, honey!” Lucy yelled after him.

You looked at Michael incredulously.

“He’s made some interesting friends,” he commented, and you had a feeling that there was a story there. Before you could ask about it however, another person appeared, and Michael changed the subject.

“This is Grandpa. I don’t think you’ve met before.”

The older man walked out of a side room at that moment, sending a quick glance and a somewhat friendly smile towards you before making his way to the kitchen.

“Good, you’re here. Now he can finally stop yappin’ about you coming every other hour,” he tossed it over his shoulder as he got out a root beer from the fridge. Michael facepalmed so hard, you almost started cackling. You thoroughly enjoyed him getting embarrassed by his family. Grandpa paused in the kitchen door and motioned back with the bottle in his hand.

“The second shelf is mine, so keep your hands off,” he warned.

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“No need to call me sir, I’m not that old,” he complained as he shuffled back to where he came from, shutting the sliding door behind himself.

You met Michael’s eyes with amusement, and he just shook his head.

“He had a long night at the widow Johnson’s,” he explained with a slight grin, and you now looked even more incredulous.

With greetings and introductions concluded, Michael guided you up the stairs and into a guest bedroom, a few doors down from his own. You looked around while he put your bag on the bed. You couldn’t NOT notice the squirrel sitting on your desk. You stared at it in bewilderment and as Michael followed your gaze, he let out a laugh.

“I forgot to tell you. Grandpa’s hobby is taxidermy. He wanted to give you something to feel more at home while you’re here.”

“I’m not sure I can sleep at night with that thing watching me.” You couldn’t keep your eyes off of it, as if expecting it to move the second you weren’t looking. Michael chuckled and went to grab it.

“Here, I’ll put it in the closet for you. Sammy’s was full of them after the first few weeks.” It was your turn to burst out laughing at that mental image, Michael following suit. When you finally quietened down, he left to make you some refreshments after your long drive, and to let you unpack in peace.

You went downstairs after you finished, and he gave you a tour of the house. You spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the property, sipping lemonade on the porch with Lucy who asked about your parents, petting the horses, playing with Nanook and catching up on what happened since your last call.

As the sky turned into shades orange and purple, you got up from sitting on the porch to get ready to go out.

“I can’t wait to see the famous Boardwalk,” you grinned in excitement while walking up the stairs. “You told me so many stories about the nightlife around here, I’ve been wanting to experience it for myself.”

“Yeah, the nightlife is… something else.”

You looked at him quizzically, his strange tone making you think that there might be some hidden meaning behind his words. His face wasn’t giving you any clue, and it didn’t seem like he wanted to elaborate either, so you let it go.

You really had to ask later what was going on with him. He seemed genuinely happy about you being here, but sometimes he got this look in his eyes that you just couldn’t explain. You couldn’t exactly put a finger on it, but you had a feeling there were things he didn’t tell you about. Growing up you shared every secret, every worry with each other. This was new, and it made you a little uneasy. As you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit, you decided to try and put it in the back of your mind, at least for the night.

You met up with Michael in the living room and went out to his bike. The sight of him standing next to it, looking at you expectantly brought back memories of years gone by. Seeing his excited face when he first showed you his new baby, having spent his summer holiday working hard to be able to buy it. Opening your door to him and his bike waiting for you to take you away from your everyday worries, away for some great adventure. It was linked to images of warm summer nights, the feeling of wind in your hair, to long conversations about teenage dreams and crushes and anxieties about the future. Any time either of you felt like you needed to get away for a bit, you went on a ride. Michael talked about how things at home were getting worse between his parents, and in turn you confessed to him about your insecurities and how you felt awful about yourself sometimes. It was on one of these occasions that Michael told you about the divorce and the move to Santa Carla. A lot of memories were bound to this bike, it was the representation of your high school lives.

After Michael and his family left Phoenix, your long rides were one of the things you missed the most. They were therapeutic for both of you in a way that your weekly phone calls just couldn’t compare. That’s why you felt a wave of emotions as you got on the bike behind him, and if the fond look he sent you over his shoulder was anything to go by, you knew he felt it too.

Your sentimental mood was quickly swept away by the rush of adrenaline when you rolled out the gate, your body already anticipating the ride. You loved the speed, there was no denying it, and Michael let you indulge, going faster on some of the dirt roads. You held onto him tightly as the wind whipped against your face, the scenery rushing past you in a blur. You couldn’t help but let out whoops of joy, the sound bringing a smile to his face.

You could already hear the noise of the boardwalk before it fully came into view, and as you arrived, you felt your stomach flutter in excitement. You caught glimpses of it during the day while you were driving through town, but it looked even more spectacular during the night. It was truly alive. The crowds of people were just as colorful as the lights that lit up everything, the air filled with screams from the rides, mixed with the sounds of the games and the music coming from further down the beach where, you presumed, the stage was. Behind the smell of popcorn and the sweet scent of cotton candy you could faintly detect the fresh saltiness of the ocean.

As you stood there for a long moment, taking everything in, a warm feeling started blossoming in your chest. You couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but it felt right. Like this is where you were meant to be. Before you could try and analyze it further, Michael’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“Let’s go get something to eat.”

“You know the way to a girl’s heart,” you joked, your pervious thoughts already forgotten.

After getting some hotdogs, you wandered around the boardwalk, looking at all the different shops and stalls, marveling at the small accessories and trinkets and clothes and everything they offered. You screamed your heart out on the rollercoaster, enjoyed a chill ride on the carousel, munched on some popcorn, then challenged Michael to a few games and joked about how bad you both were at them. Eventually, you ended up near the stage, swaying and bopping to the music. You even got Michael to dance a bit, laughing at his less than smooth moves.

It was during you break from dancing, while aimlessly surveying the people around you, that you noticed the girl on the other side of the crowd. She had dark, long, curly hair and even from afar you noticed how pretty she was. And she was watching you. When Michael noticed you staring and followed your line of sight, he froze.

There is was. You knew he was keeping something from you, and it looked like she was part of that something.

“Who’s she?” you asked.

“Nobody,” he replied instantly, averting his eyes from the girl and grabbing your arm, pulling you through the crowd. You just stared at his back in bewilderment. As you stumbled after him, bumping into people left and right, you were starting to grow slightly agitated.

“Michael, stop it.” He didn’t listen and didn’t stop, not until you arrived to an area by the railing separating the beach from the boardwalk, where there were significantly less people. You finally felt like you could breathe. “Michael I swear to god. There’s something you’re keeping from me and I can see it eating at you. Please, talk to me.”

He let go of you at last, and when he turned around to look at you, his body was wound tight with tension, his expression guarded and hesitant. You’ve never seen him like this, not towards you. However, you were determined as you stared back at him, pleading him with your eyes to open up to you. After a long moment, he averted his gaze and let out a dejected sigh. His hand combed through his hair nervously as he leaned back against the railing.

“I knew this would come up eventually, but I was hoping to enjoy the peace a bit longer before that,” he admitted. You furrowed you brow in confusion.

“She’s someone I’ve been dating for a while.”

Your jaw fell open.

“She’s your girlfriend? You had a whole ass girlfriend and you didn’t even tell me?” You smacked his arm playfully, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. After the initial shock, your tone grew serious. “Why did you feel like you can’t tell me about this?”

He was avoiding your eyes as he continued.

“Because if I told you about her, I also had to talk about how we met. And that’s a complicated story.” He hesitantly glanced at you, and you nodded to show him you were listening. “I first saw her the night we arrived to Santa Carla. At the time she was hanging around this group of guys. I knew they were trouble, but I ignored it because I wanted to be with her. And in order to do that, I had to become one of them. I think I even liked it at first.” I hint of a smile appeared on his lips as he recollected some seemingly fun memories. It quickly morphed into a frown however, and it looked like he wasn’t sure how to continue for a moment. ”A lot of things happened, and it turned out they were even more trouble than I first thought. We managed to get away from them in the end, and she hasn’t gone back since. But it wasn’t easy. Some things happened that can’t be changed. They are still around, and even though we try to stay away from them, we still run into them sometimes.”

He looked into your eyes with such seriousness that you rarely saw from him. “These are not good people. I didn’t talk about them because I didn’t want you to worry. But now that you’re here, I guess it had to come out sooner or later. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You listened patiently while Michael was talking, taking everything in. As he finished, you gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay, I understand. I still wish I could have helped you when it was happening, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Honestly, I’m just a bit shocked that you managed to keep all this from me. You could never really hide anything, I always saw through you.” You sent him a mischievous grin, lightening the mood and finally making him break into a smile as well.

“What’s her name?” you asked softly.

“Star.” The stupid lovesick expression on his face as he told you more about her made your heart swell. You were happy for him. Happy that he found someone he cared so much about. Sure, Michael had girlfriends before, but you’ve never seen him like this. She must be someone special.

You were too busy to notice the pair of eyes watching you from afar.

Dwayne felt strange tonight. There was something indescribable in the air, some kind of unseen tension, like before a thunderstorm. Other people didn’t seem to notice, and he was about to shrug it off, wondering if maybe it was just him. That’s when he saw you.

Well, he saw Michael first to be exact. It’s been a while since they ran into him, and Dwayne was content to keep it that way. Ever since the fight between their group and Michael’s allies, he harbored resentment against him. Not just for trying to kill them, but also for taking Laddie. He had been taking care of the little guy for so long, he genuinely felt like a younger brother to him. But after Max died, Michael, Star and Laddie all turned back to human. Star left them, found a job and a new place to stay, taking the boy with her. One time they accidentally ran into each other on the boardwalk, she told Dwayne that she reunited Laddie with his family, and they regularly keep in touch. He knew that the vampire lifestyle didn’t suit such a young kid, however that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel some type of way about Michael’s involvement in how things turned out.

As all of this was going through his head, he noticed that Michael was talking to someone. And when he turned his attention to you, the strangest thing happened. A dull ache started growing in his chest, so much so that he began to rub the skin over it absentmindedly. You were glancing through the crowd while you were talking, and the moment your eyes met his, it felt like fireworks went off in his body, spreading warmth through his veins. His breath caught in his throat for a second. At the same time, something crossed your face, and he was sure you felt something too. But the next moment, you tore your gaze from his, leaving behind only a lingering hint of that warmth.

He was so caught up in his emotions, he almost missed when Marko tapped his shoulder.

“What’s going on, man? You alright?”

The blond could see that something obviously wasn’t right. Dwayne’s otherwise calm and collected demeanor was frazzled, his eyes slightly wide as he looked down at him. He didn’t answer, just glanced back in the direction he was looking before, but neither you nor Michael were there anymore. Now Marko definitely knew something was up, when Dwayne started searching through the crowd, turning his head in every direction.

“Dude, you’re starting to freak me out. What is it?” he asked, his voice becoming urgent.

The brunette looked into his eyes and uttered the following words,

“I think I just saw my soulmate.”

Marko’s jaw hit the floor.

You took a deep, steadying breath. Still feeling a little rattled, you tried to hide your nerves in front of Michael by rambling about random stuff, but you couldn’t shake the image of him out of your mind. That tall figure, silky dark hair and brown eyes that seemed to bore into your soul. Something happened in those few seconds while your gaze was connected. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew he felt it too. You were so caught off guard, you had to forcefully avert your eyes from the handsome stranger. Your mind started to reel a bit, so you suggested going to get something to drink.

When you glanced back as you were moving further away, you noticed he wasn’t alone anymore. A shorter blonde guy was with him as well. The tall one was scanning the crowd, probably looking for you.

“Everything okay?” Michael’s voice snapped you back.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you deflected. He gave you a curious look, but didn’t push.

“So when can I meet Star?” you asked, hoping to turn his attention elsewhere.

“Soon. How about tomorrow?” he suggested with a smile.

“Sure, I’d like that. Maybe we could go for lunch or something.” He agreed with a nod. “You know, you could have just introduced us when we saw her.”

He suddenly became flustered.

“Yeah, about that. I actually asked her if she could give us some space today to just hang out a bit. I wanted to have at least one day before bringing up this whole story. But I guess she was worried.”

“Why?” you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Because that group of guys I mentioned usually hangs around the boardwalk at night. She knew I wanted to bring you here, so she probably worried about us running into trouble.”

You hummed in response.

“I still think it was stupid to just run away from her.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckled. “I guess I panicked.”

“Hey,” you grabbed his arm gently. “Don’t let this situation stress you out so much. I might not know much about what happened between you all, but I won’t just let some guys mess with you. You know I can stand my ground.”

He looked at you funny for a moment, then a grin spread across his face.

“I know. You never let me forget how you kicked Mick Thompson’s ass in second grade for making fun of me.”

“Mick Thompson was a dick,” you retorted, and Michael burst out laughing, causing you to do the same.

“Isn’t this nice,” an unfamiliar voice interrupted. “Looks like someone’s having fun.”

From the corner of your eye you saw Michael freeze up next to you. You turned around and saw four guys standing in front of you.

You immediately recognized the handsome stranger from before, who somehow looked even more attractive up close. He was looking at you with an intense gaze, and from this distance, you could even make out all the little details of his intricate necklace. You willed your eyes not to go lower and start staring at his exposed chest. As you forced your eyes back onto his, he cocked his head to the side in wonder. A blond who looked like he stepped right out of the music video of a rock band had his arm propped on his shoulder, striking blue eyes looking you up and down with a small smirk on his lips. The shorter one you saw earlier was there too, curly hair framing his angelic face. His stance however, reminded you of a jungle cat, all lithe with an undertone of danger. The contrast of it made your head spin. He was peering at you curiously, studying your features.

It was the last one who spoke again, all confident smiles and searching eyes that seemed to bore into your soul. He had an air of confidence and authority around him, leaving no doubt that he was their leader.

“Hello, Michael.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He directed his attention to you, the corner of his lips curling upward on one side. “Who’s your friend?”

His eyes mesmerized you. The cool blue ignited a fire in your body, the warmth spreading through your veins. It was intoxicating. He seemed to take in every little change, the slight coloration of your cheeks, the widening of your pupils, the quickening of your breath.

Michael’s voice brought you out of your trance, blinking rapidly and averting your gaze, trying to get yourself together.

“None of your business, David.

He sounded upset. As you sent him a quick glance, you noticed he was wrung tight, his body language defensive, and he moved ever so slightly in front of you.

“Don’t be impolite, Michael. Why don’t you introduce us?”

He clearly didn’t want to do that. You could feel the tension practically radiating off of him. You had to deescalate the situation somehow before something happened.

“I’m Y/N,” you chimed in. All heads turned to you suddenly, Michael trying to silently communicate to you not to get involved, but you didn’t back down. You looked right into the cool gaze of their leader, his eyes losing some of their hold on you now that it didn’t take you by surprise. That obnoxious smirk was still on his lips.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” The way your name rolled off his tongue sent excited chills through you, which you pointedly ignored. “We haven’t seen you around here. Not from the area?” His casually inquisitive tone fooled no one.

“I’m visiting Michael from Phoenix.”

“Ah, Phoenix. And how do you know each other?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

David raised his hands in mock defense. “I’m just trying to make friendly conversation. We want to get to know Michael’s friends better. He used to be one of us after all.”

This caused the others to chuckle, and David’s smile grew. However, it sent Michael into rage.

“You leave her alone!”

“Michael, it’s okay,” you grabbed his arm, stopping him from lunging forward at the group. Some of them seemed to practically anticipate a fight, and looking at the odds, it obviously wouldn’t end well for you. “Don’t let him get under your skin. Relax.”

The blond rocker guy chose this exact moment to speak up, his tone filled with mocking. “Yeah, you heard the lady, Mickey. Relax.” The others started laughing, and you had to hold him back again.

“And you,” you turned on them, now clearly annoyed. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I’m not gonna just stand around and let you bully Michael. Leave us the fuck alone.”

They started laughing and whistling even more at your outburst.

“All right, kitten,” David spoke again, his voice filled with amusement. “We’ll leave you alone.” He turned to leave, sending one last grin towards you above his shoulder. “Let’s go, boys.”

“See you around, sugar,” the shorter blond waved with a mischievous smile, the taller one giggling and patting him on the shoulder. The brunette looked at you for another long moment, his face unreadable, before he followed the others.

When the crowd finally swallowed them, Michael turned to you.

“Are you okay?” His eyes were full of concern.

“I should be the one asking you that. It was them, wasn’t it? The guys you told me about before?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“What a bunch of douchebags,” you grumbled and Michael let out an uneasy laugh, the tension slowly leaving him.

“Thanks for what you did, you know, standing up for me and all.”

“Of course. It’s what friends are for.”

He got silent for a bit before turning to you with a serious expression.

“They are a lot more dangerous than they seem. I don’t want you to get involved with them. But knowing David, they’re not going to just let this go.” He seemed conflicted.

You put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I have no desire to talk to them again.” You shared a smile before you decided to head home for the night, both of you in the opinion that that was enough excitement for one day.

But despite what you told him, you couldn’t deny that something has changed within you. These strange newfound feelings confused you, not really finding any explanation for them. You also had a feeling you would see these four boys again, and your stomach clenched at the thought, whether from nervousness or something else, you couldn’t tell.

David was deep in thought as they made their way back to the bikes. The others, however, were in an excited frenzy.

“I’m not trippin’, you felt it too, right?” Paul was looking at each one of them, practically buzzing with energy.

Marko nodded enthusiastically. “I half thought Dwayne was pulling my leg, but it’s true. She’s our soulmate.”

“Max never said anything about more than one person having the same soulmate,” Dwayne interjected.

“Maybe, but I sure as shit felt it,” Marko countered. “And so did you,” he pointed at Paul, “and you,” he turned to Dwayne. They unanimously looked at David who still hasn’t spoken a word.

“Even if it seems strange, it looks like we all share a soulmate,” he declared. The boys let out excited whoops. “We just have one problem. What do we do with Michael?”

They fell silent at that.

“We have to remove him from the picture,” Marko clenched his fists.

“Not so fast,” David cautioned. “If we take him out permanently, we might lose her.” And even though things irreparably changed between them after what happened to Max, David still wasn’t sure he could kill Michael if it came down to it. But he wouldn’t voice that, of course.

“Then what should we do? We’re not gonna just let it go, right?” Paul was getting agitated.

“No.” David’s voice was full of resolve as he climbed onto his bike. “We’re not letting her go.”

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[k-eilonwy]

decided to get back to my roots for a bit and tackle redesigns of my all-time favourite mlp G3 dream team : 3 these five have shaped my early 2010s and helped me to grow both as an artist and storyteller (i started writing silly little fanfics and my own take on the then-hypothetical G5 based on G3 and these five characters in particular), so they have, and always will have my entire heart.

i came up my own kind of au version of G3 and here are some of my small headcanons for each character!!

Rainbow Dash:

her parents are Parasol (G1 pony) and Barnacle (G1).

she is the oldest (and the tallest!) of the five.

she is a major fashionista and diva, but with a hint of adventurousness and even ferocity behind those eyes. Dash is a fan of all things beautiful, be it bright colours, grand celebrations, and more down-to-earth values.

naturally, her craft is related to rainbows - she draws them with the special paint she makes herself, and it's a very rare knowledge among the Ponyville citizens (Unicornia's rainbow-creating magic works on the same basis as Dash's paint, she just makes it without the unicornian magic involved).

oftentimes she is the voice of reason for her friends.

in her free time she designs clothing in collaboration with Sew-and-So and funds/runs fashion shows.

isn't the biggest fan of sweets (thinks it spoils her figure and coat).

absolutely adores rainy weather (cause rainbows).

is a sap for romance and cheep romantic novels.

Spike:

was born in a dragon tribe living far from pony societies.

was born wingless and with water-based powers, while most dragons breathed fire and had wings, so he's an oddball amongst the common dragons.

the dragons were supposed to work with pony royalty/leaders and protect them. The way the dragons chose did it was passing a test of obtaining a very rare flower only meant to be gifted to the royalty - the Royal Everbloom, a flower which was near impossible to maintain/grow but could bloom for forever.

Spike failed to pass his test of safely delivering the Royal Everbloom back to the tribe, failing to protect the flower from a bad storm so it withered under hard rain. However, Wysteria noticed Spike struggling to keep the flower safe just outside her cottage and brought them both inside - nursing the poor dragon and the flower back to health. It suddenly bloomed under her care, so by the old tradition, it meant that Wysteria belonged to royalty.

cue the events of Princess Promenade pretty much the same as they went down in the original as Spike played the role of mentor and royal advisor to Wysteria. She still rejected the title in the end, proclaiming that Ponyville didn't need royalty to govern over them and that she was no more special than any other.

Spike is humbled (and charmed) by her worldview and decides that he rather enjoys the simple life of local ponies - besides, he has grown deeply devoted to Wysteria and doesn't want their friendship to end, so he parts with his tribe and lives with the purple gardener in her little cottage.

he greatly helps Wystie with gardening - his water-breathing powers come in handy while working with plants! He finds that even if he doesn't breathe fire like "normal" dragons, he still can make his abilities work in other fields.

he is often the brains of the group - his exotic dragonic upbringing is a great contrast to the ponies' more down-to-earth worldviews.

is a vegetarian (idk if all dragons in this universe are or it's just him, but-).

is a big fan of literature of all kinds, especially poetry.

generally is a huge nerd and is prone to rambling about his favourite subjects. Not the most outgoing person, more of an introvert, especially in contrast to most ponies (that's why they match their energies with Wysteria so well).

absolutely adores Wysteria, they are something of platonic soulmates/life-partners. Can be very protective of her, even though he is usually non-threatening/pretty chill (he is her personal dragon guardian!)

Wysteria:

her parents are Blossom (G1) and Salty (G1).

Petal Blossom (G2) is her maternal older cousin.

Wysteria took to gardening and flower arrangement since early years from her mother. Participated in a lot of local fair gardening competitions through her fillyhood and won the majority of them (the trophies are kept at her parents’ house). 

moved out from her parents’ house once she had managed to save up enough money to purchase a small but neat cottage at the edge of the woods; it is located near Ponyville, but quite far from its centre. Pinkie, Minty and Dash like to visit their bestie and her dragon friend on weekends and each time together they plan some really fun activities. 

during spring and summer seasons, Wysteria lives off selling flowers and bouquets at Ponyville’s biggest market. Once autumn hits however, she and Spike stay at one of their three closest friends’, Pinkie, Minty or Dash’s, house until next spring - each year they stay at a different pony’s house. Wysteria and Spike help out with chores and share household duties during their stays, but even regardless of that their friends are simply happy to let the two live with them.  

Wysteria is socially anxious and quite solitary, content with keeping a limited circle of friends to spend time with. Akin to Snufkin she requires a lot of “alone” time away from others, that’s why she likes living so far from the town. However she is very dependable and very very kind, so a lot of ponies confide in her.

hates. weeds. so. much.

often feeds stray and forest animals coming to her cottage. Is fond of bunnies and birds the most.

Pinkie Pie:

her parents are Cotton Candy Snr. (G1) and Slugger (G1). Is a twin sister to Cotton Candy Jr (G3).

Pinkie runs a gift shop along with Minty, her bestie since fillyhood and a life-partner.

works as a party planner as her second job - generally just love celebrations and organising events.

she is a natural leader and is able to make even opposing groups come and work together. Sociable and easy-going, pretty chill to be around.

isn't easily scared and usually doesn't believe things she can't see with her own eyes or try out.

has a MAJOR sweet-tooth: her sister runs an ice-cream cafe, so there's that.

has a "supernatural" ability to come up with a solution to almost anything, - using Pinkie's squink (basically just squeezing her eyes tight and thinking long enough).

is drawn to photography and films.

Minty:

her parents are Minty Snr. (G1) and Steamer (G1). Ice Crystal (G1) is her maternal uncle.

everyone's favourite disaster-monger.

works in a gift shop alongside Pinkie. Generally can't function well without her supervision lol.

Clutzy and socially anxious, but in a different way than Wysteria, Minty is obsessive, hyperactive and makes up for her awkwardness with her pony-pleasing attitude. Enjoys helping others out, it makes her feel important.

can't sit still for long period of time, needs an outlet for her excessive energy.

collects SOCKS.

winter is her favourite season; it reminds her of warmth and companionship of her friends huddled close by the fireplace. Exchanging gifts and stories. Making others smile.

is surprisingly good at checkers.

is claustrophobic, hates being limited.

doesn't enjoy reading that much, but rather likes picture-book illustrations.

[catzz089]

About the two Projects you mentioned, can you tell a little bit about what the stories are about? If you already can tell us? 💙

YESSSS YES I CAN!!!!!!

Okay one I’ve thought about for a WHILE and I’ve finally written a tiny little bit for is basically rookie Max, coming into the sport. He’s 17, he goes straight into the main RedBull seat and he’s doing REALLY well, and it’s basically the 2021 season happening when he’s in his first year. Then BOOM. Jos dies. Oh no, how’s he going to race now? Legally (I know fucking nothing about the legalities of it all, it’s made up, I don’t care, argue with the walll) he’s not allowed to keep racing as a minor unless he has an adult coming with him to every race, they also have to be wealthy enough to pay for any of the racing stuff that needs to be paid for AND most importantly, they need to be able to comply with the Dutch/German adoption regulations, bc yk, it’s Max.

Little side rant, Nico and Lewis were dating, they got married very secretly, then Brocedes divorce happened (timelines are very warped idc) and they wanted a divorce but it was decided the divorce would be too risky and it would almost SURELY go public, which they didn’t want. So they aren’t together anymore, but legally they’re still married.

Nico had gotten closer with Max, and decides, bc he’s German, he’s going to adopt Max. And he works with Sky and everything, so he’s already going tj be at most of the races, he can just go to all of them. Boom. But oh no, I’m his sky oaperwork (legal proof) it only says he’s going tj some of the races. They can’t trust that. But hey! Look at that! Nico’s husband will be attending all the races. That works. Nico’s German passport means they can BOTH adopt Max, as long as Lewis is written down as the main guardian.

Did I mention it’s still the 2021 race season? Where they fucking have each other? Yeah.

Also lestappen comes in too!!!

Then the other one lowkey just came upon me randomly, it’s nowhere NEAR thought out, but it’s quite literally just Yandere Charles. He kills people for Max. He loves Max. He’s obsessed with Max. He’s insane but Max is safe and happy (and clueless) and he just really wants to date Max. Charles also has crazy plot armour and doesn’t even need to bother covering up after himself bc why would Charles Leclerc ever kill someone?

Lots of hurt Max, possessive jealous and protective Charles,

And then the third one is literally just the most stereotypical soulmate au ever but I love soulmate aus

SO YEAH!! IF YOU GUYS ARE INTRESTED PLESSE LET ME KNOW!!! I WRITE FASTER WHEN I HAVE SUPPIRT!!! PLS LET ME KNOW 😸😸😸😸

(I’m gonna write them anyway, but dead serious guys I live off of comments and feedback)

[thewritergremlin-rae]

Hi! If you wanted to could you write a Soulmate AU or Drunken confessions (Loki x reader) pls thanks <333

Thanks for the request anon! I have way too many soulmate AU ideas already so I went with drunken confessions ehehehe

A Casual Exchange

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Rating: M

Words: 763

Content: 2nd person, fluff, drunken/tipsy reader

Summary: Your night winds to a close - your parting words leaving Loki stunned.

AO3: HERE

Banner by cafekitsune

You hadn’t meant to get drunk. 

No. Really. 

You’d been nursing one glass, only it had never ended. You had a feeling your favourite Asgardian had something to do with it. Plopping down on the couch, your drink sloshed but you didn’t feel a splash and, looking over at Loki, none of it had spilt on him either. 

Your eyes got a little stuck on Loki, like they always did. Such a beautiful being. Skin - flawless, cheekbones - sharp enough to cut yourself on, legs - never ending. 

The sound of him clearing his throat brought your gaze back to his face but you didn’t feel any of that familiar, heavy embarrassment in your stomach. You laughed as he arched a delicate eyebrow. 

“Yes, dear?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, his gaze washing over your swaying, the slight dazed look in your eyes, and the curve of your lips as you giggled. 

The giggling was his favourite. 

“Are you having fun, Loki?” You laid your arm out over the back of the couch and flopped your head down on it as you waited for his answer. Fingers caught the end of his curls, twisting and twirling them, brain fizzing and focusing on the silky feel. 

Loki snorted softly, you having no idea you’d missed his answer. “You seem to be having far more fun.” 

You giggled again and tugged a little on the curl, watching it bounce back into place. “Yeah…  Do you use magic on these?” You flicked a curl again and his long fingers curled around your traitorous ones. 

“No, that would be pointless when I can simply use products. And I certainly would never be so strange as Midgardians as to put dangerous chemicals in my hair to change the colour.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you processed the information. “Guess you’re right. See, that’s why humans should be feared. What other race kept eating mushrooms until they found the ones that made them trip balls?”

“You also season your food with peppers that developed semi-poisonous defense mechanisms to avoid being eaten, your race deciding that that makes them taste good.” 

You laughed and grinned. “Jalapeno poppers are the best and you’re just jealous you don’t have processed sugar on your planet.”

Loki gave an elegant shrug. “I concede that chocolate is certainly one of your species’ better inventions.” He smiled, pulling a bar seemingly from nowhere as he traded it for your drink. 

Probably a good idea, you were just on the edge of sober enough to know that as you dug in and nibbled. “Thanks, Loki, you’re the best.” 

A subtle twitch in his expression caught your eye but you weren’t sharp enough to figure it out right now. Actually, Loki should have some of this chocolate too but his hands were pretty full. 

You snapped off a piece and held it to his lips, grinning when he accepted it with nothing more than a cocked eyebrow. But he soon got his own back, dragging a gasp from your soft lips when he nipped the tip of your thumb. 

You stared at your thumb as you brought it back to you. It tingled a little, still warm. 

“A good idea. Good night.” 

A distant laugh had the sounds of the party around you filtering back in and you realised it’s a little loud. “Me and the chocolate are going to go to bed.”

Loki seemed a little sad to lose your company but perhaps he shouldn’t have refilled your cup so much. No-one was ever thankful for a hangover. 

“Night night, Loki. Love you.” You leaned forward with a bounce to kiss his cheek and got to your feet, leaving him stunned.

Did you just say…

You waved to him as if you didn’t just profess your love for him and disappeared inside the elevator. How could you not realise….? 

You hummed to yourself, nibbling at the chocolate. Head empty, no thoughts as you crossed to your bedroom door. 

Wait.

Did you say ‘love you’ to Loki? Your brain slowly swung back to the memory and your eyes widened when you heard the words in your own voice. 

Oh shit. You hurried back to the elevator, cut short by the appearance of a firm chest in your narrowed field of vision.

“Did we perhaps realise what we said, love?” Loki whispered, hoping he looked not the least bit flustered by your casual admission. His arms caught you and held you close before he caught your lips. 

“Loki…” you breathed and he chuckled. 

“I might be persuaded to remind you come morning.” 

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Tags: @kindadolly

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[gallavichsreddie1128]

Mark of a Soul (Hannibal)

Description: Soulmate AU where they can feel each other’s pain.

Word Count:1,152

Request:

Hey,

Could you write a soulmate au with Hannibal? Your soulmate can feel the physical pain of his other half. It all began whenthe reader,who is an FBI agent, got injured badly and Hannibal felt it (without knowing it‘s her).Will was there with him at his office and later connects the dots with Hannibal. After being reunited they start dating and they spend the night together.(smut?)

Author’s note: I did not add the smut but I hope you like it!

Will watched as Hannibal fell to the ground groaning in pain. His hand was clutching his stomach. Will ran to his side and kneeled down next to him. “Hannibal, are you okay?” Will asked as his friend groaned in pain. “I don’t know what is happening.” He managed to talk to his friend.

Will didn’t know what to do so he tried helping Hannibal stand up. It was hard but he managed. “We should get you to a doctor.” Will told him but Hannibal fought against it. “No, I think I know what this is.” “You do?” Hannibal nodded and took a seat at his desk. The pain has subsided now.

“When your soulmate gets injured or is in pain, you feel it.” Hannibal tells him. Will looked at him confused, never really thinking about the soulmate stuff until now. “Are you saying that your soulmate is in pain and that’s why you fell to the ground?” Hannibal nodded.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” Will asked. Hannibal had no idea, not even a clue but he was sure that he was going to find out soon. “I do not.” Before Will could respond he got a call from the hospital. “Excuse me.” He said and stood up. He walked out of the office to answer it. “Hello?” 

He walked into the room to see his co-worker in the hospital bed fast asleep. She had gotten stabbed in the stomach but managed to survive. He walked over to her and grabbed her hand. He had yet to put the pieces together as he stared at her.

He sighed and looked out the window lost in thought. He thought back to how his day was going and how Hannibal collapsed in pain just to tell him that he felt his soulmate’s pain. His eyes widened and he looked at his friend. “No way.” There was no way that Y/N was Hannibal’s soulmate….was there?

He looked for his phone and decided that he would call Hannibal and see how he was doing. The phone rang a few times before he answered, the pain no longer evident in his voice. “Hello?” Will couldn’t talk as he looked at his friend. “Will?” Hannibal asked and Will shook his head.

“Hey,I called to see how you were doing.” He said as he saw Y/N stir in her sleep. “I am feeling fine. I just hope my soulmate is doing okay.” Hannibal said. “Yeah, I think she will be.” Will said. Hannibal was confused by what he said. “What?” He asked and Will shook his head, realizing what he had said. “Can you come down to the hospital?” He asked Hannibal. 

Before Y/N could wake up, Hannibal was at her side in surprise. Will explained everything and how he connected the dots. Will thought Y/N was his soulmate. Hannibal stared at the sleeping woman, awaiting her consciousness so they could figure things out.

She was very beautiful and he did recall seeing her a few times at the office with Will. He never thought that she would be his soulmate. “I hope she wakes soon.” Hannibal said. 

Hannibal sat in the chair by her bed as he waited for her to wake up. It had been a few hours and she was still asleep. Will said that she would be asleep for a while and that she might not wake up until the next day. He was curious about her.

His mind was occupied with thoughts of her. He watched her as she slowly started waking up. His eyes widened as her eyes opened and she groaned. The light of the room hitting her. He wasn’t sure that she would know who he was and the idea of running to get Will crossed his mind until she looked over at him.

“Hannibal Lecter?” She asked. He looked at her in surprise, she knew his name? “Y-Yes. I heard about your accident and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He said and she smiled. A really awkward smile but he didn’t blame her.

After all, they barely knew each other. “Will told you?” She asked and he nodded. He wasn’t sure if he should drop all what Will had told him on her right after she woke up. “I will go get Will.” He tells her and leaves the room. She stares at him as he leaves. 

“Hey.” Will said as he entered the room. Hannibal followed him and she smiled at the two. “Hey.” “how are you feeling?” Will asked as he sat at the end of the bed. She shrugged, “It hurts but it could be a lot worse.” She tells him. Will, like Hannibal, wasn’t sure if telling her about the soulmate thing now was a good idea.

She saw that both men were lost in thought, “Everything okay?” Will nodded and looked up at her. “Yeah it’s just there’s a lot we need to talk about.” He tells her and she waits. She doesn’t say anything as she stares at him, waiting for him to say something. “I don’t know if now is the best time. You just woke up.” She rolls her eyes. “Will, you can’t just bring up that you have something important to talk to me about and save it for later.” He looked at Hannibal. “Y/N, this is going to sound crazy.” Will starts off. 

Hannibal adjusted his tie as he waited for Y/N to open the door. He was almost on time and had flowers in his hand that he couldn’t wait to give her. Y/N opened the door a few seconds later and he managed to keep his jaw closed.

She looked absolutely breathtaking in the red lace dress that she was wearing. Her hair was half up, half down and her makeup was basic. She looked amazing. “These are for you.” He said and handed her the flowers after staring at her. She took them and thanked him.

They were beautiful and her favorite kind. She excused herself to put them inside. “Where are we going?” She asked him. “I will be making us a meal at my house.” He states as they walk to his car. “Oh I could have come over then.” She said, feeling bad that he was taking her back to his house and that he would have to drive her back.” .He shook his head, opening the car door for her. “Nonsense” He said and she got in the car.

He walked over to the driver side and got in. “I feel bad. You’re going to have to take me home afterwards.” He looked at her as he started the car, “I don’t plan on taking you home tonight.” He said as he began to drive back to his house. Her thighs clenched at his words. Excitement filled her body as she thought about what was to come after dinner.

[sapphicjackal]

Bingyuan Soulmate au 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Life was brighter with Yuan-ge in it. 

Luo Binghe woke up before dawn with a smile on his face, fading dreams of a tender touch and warm voice lingering on the edges of his awareness. Not even the cold dirt floor of the woodshed could diminish the light feeling that courses through his body. He writes to Yuan-ge before getting dressed for the day, pushing back his sleeves and dipping his brush into ink.

“Wishing Yuan-ge a happy day!” Binghe wrote carefully with a smile, filling the words with happiness.

He wishes he could talk to Yuan-ge more. Yuan-ge writes to him a couple of things during the day, but Binghe has to wait until night when he’s alone in the woodshed to have a conversation.

Binghe was surprised to feel the rasping scrape of Yuan-ge’s writing implement so quickly, especially when Yuan-ge seemed to wake up a couple of hours later than him. 

“Good morning Bing-er.” Yuan-ge wrote beneath Binghe’s message before more was written.

“You told me you had trouble cultivating, I thought about it last night. The most important part of learning is cross referencing. Is there any way you could look at someone else’s manual?” Yuan-ge asked, his words were earnest but they held a faint sense of suspicion in them.

“Yuan-ge?” Binghe wrote, imparting it with his curiosity.

“Make sure your material is real. People could be trying to hurt Bing-er with fake material.” Yuan-ge wrote, full of worry and suspicion.

Binghe recoiled from the message, his eyes wide. A fake manual? Binghe had never even thought of his manual being fake. Why would they give him a fake manual? 

‘Because they hate you.’ a part of him thought.

No. 

Even if Binghe somehow disappointed Shizun and earned his ire, there’s no way a peerless immortal like Shizun would give his disciple a false manual. Binghe hadn’t been here long, but he knew that it was deadly to cultivate improperly. It was one of the first things they were told. To follow their manual carefully and faithfully because any deviation could result in damaging or even destroying your meridians.

Binghe fought back the urge to argue with Yuan-ge. 

Yuan-ge wasn’t a cultivator, he didn’t know how serious his accusations were. He was looking at this from the view of a scholar. With scholars it’s important to check that the copy of what you are studying is genuine. If you aren’t careful you could learn false information.

Binghe would check just so that he could reassure Yuan-ge that nothing was wrong. Ning-shije would be happy to let him look over her manual when they hang out later today.

“This one will check.” Binghe wrote.

“Thank you, Bing-er. I hope I’m wrong.” Yuan-ge responded, his words full of relief and underlying anxiety. 

Binghe felt warm inside. Yuan-ge was worried for his safety. Even if it wasn’t necessary, it had been years since Binghe had someone who cared like this. Just like how his A-Niang worried when he went out to beg for food. It’s a special kind of worry reserved solely for the safety of the one you love most.

It’s been so long since Binghe felt loved.

The streets were hostile and cold, and coming to Qing Jing Peak was not much different. People were still cruel or indifferent. Binghe still had to struggle and fight to keep his head above water. He still went hungry most days and still slept on the dirt ground.

But now he could read what Yuan-ge says, and that alone made coming here worth it.

Binghe finished getting ready with a smile, brushing his hair to pull it into a neat ponytail. He dusted off his uniform a final time before stepping out of the woodshed to get a head start on his chores.

The rest of the day passed by like usual. His Shixiong’s jeered at him and piled more work onto his plate, he attended the classes of the Hallmasters who let him inside, and he did his chores. In the afternoon, Ning Yingying came to find him to hang out, accompanying him as he did his chores.

Binghe decided to wait until he was done chopping wood to ask Ning Yingying his question. “Ning-shije, could this one look at your manual please? This one is having trouble understanding his own.” he asked, placing down the rusted and blunt axe.

Ning Yingying perked up, happy to be addressed after a sichen of one-sided chatter. “Of course A-Luo!” she chirped, bouncing over to him. She pulled her manual from her robes and offered it to him with a smile. “You can ask Shije for help wherever you got stuck.” she said.

Binghe gave her a grateful smile, “Thank you, Ning-shije.” he said. Binghe sat down and opened up the manual, flipping through the pages. With each page his smile grew stiffer and a heavy feeling brewed within his gut.

This…

Binghe forced himself to take in each page before flipping it, resisting the desperate urge to flip through it rapidly. The words and diagrams were completely different. Binghe had thought himself dumb to be unable to read or understand some parts of his manual. For finding the diagrams to be confusing and painful to execute. 

Yuan-ge’s words flashed in his mind.

“People could be trying to hurt Bing-er with fake material.”

This…

Binghe’s manual is fake.

If Binghe kept trying to cultivate using his manual, he could have died.

His Shizun had handed him this manual with a sneer, telling him to learn it well. Binghe had dedicated himself to this manual, reading each word carefully with his growing literacy and following each diagram attentively.

At best he would have wasted his cultivation, ruining his meridians and his chance at cultivation. At worst he could have Qi deviated and died.

Binghe trembled, a mix of emotions brewing in him as he realized that his Shizun wanted him dead. He knew that he had offended his master to some extent, but Binghe always thought that if he worked hard enough he could change his Shizun’s mind. If he proved himself, maybe Shizun would call him by name rather than ‘Beast’.

Binghe’s smile felt brittle as he pasted it to his face. “Ning-shije, do you think this one could take notes from your manual tomorrow? It’s much easier for this lowly one to understand.” he asked.

Ning Yingying agreed easily with a smile, taking her manual back before returning to her earlier chatter with a bright grin. If Binghe told her that his manual was fake, she would undoubtedly go straight to Shizun about it. Ning Yingying means well, but her words have always gotten him into trouble. Binghe can’t let her know that anything is off. 

So, he smiles back and talks with her, pushing aside the growing anguish and anger inside of him. Those feelings could wait until he was back in his woodshed and could talk to his Yuan-ge. 

They part ways when it’s time for dinner, Ning Yingying towards the mess hall and Luo Binghe back to his woodshed. Normally at this time Binghe would work on his cultivation until dinner is over, then he would sneak some leftover scraps that the other disciples didn’t eat. 

Today, he didn’t bother. Instead he rolled up his sleeve and dipped his brush into ink.

“You were right, Yuan-ge. It was fake.” Binghe wrote, furious tears burning at his eyes. All of the feelings he had been pushing aside in front of Ning Yingying rose to the surface. His body shook with the intensity of his helpless anger, bitterness, and pain.

It didn’t take long for Yuan-ge to respond.

“I’m so sorry, Bing-er. You deserve better.” Yuan-ge wrote, words soothing with their protective fury and gentle comfort. 

Binghe choked on a sob, staring at the words with glassy eyes. When had anyone ever said that he didn’t deserve what was happening to him? The last person to say something like that was his A-Niang, who told him that he deserved more than she could provide. She urged him to become a cultivator, to find a better life for himself. Binghe stayed at Qing Jing Peak no matter what happened because he held onto her words.

Binghe knew they didn’t like him here. He knew they wanted him gone. 

He thought that if he could just prove himself, maybe then he would be accepted.

His Shizun had been trying to kill him since the day he arrived. There was no way that Binghe would ever make himself worthy in the eyes of Shen Qingqiu. He would only ever be a wretched beast.

“Yuan-ge.” Binghe wrote, hardly able to see through his tears as he sobbed hard enough to shake his body. He wished desperately that his Yuan-ge was here with him. Yuan-ge would make everything better. Yuan-ge was the only person who truly cared about him.

Binghe couldn’t force himself to calm down enough to read the response that Yuan-ge wrote, but he desperately grasped at the message to feel what it said. Binghe gasped, soaking in the love and comfort that was imparted into Yuan-ge’s words. Binghe clutched at his forearm until the skin turned pale under the pressure, greedy to get as close to Yuan-ge as he could. 

Binghe wishes he could crawl beneath his own skin to get even closer to Yuan-ge’s words. He wishes he could travel across their string of fate and see Yuan-ge’s face. He wishes that Yuan-ge was here to hold him and whisper in his own voice whatever words he wrote.

Binghe could feel Yuan-ge keep writing to him, slowly filling up his entire arm before he started writing on their legs as well. Yuan-ge kept up a steady stream of writing, every character filled with comfort and love. Binghe traces the words as they appeared, chasing after the path they took as they scrawled across his body.

He doesn’t know how long it took for his desperate sobbing to peter off into gasping hiccups and sniffling, but Yuan-ge didn’t stop his writing the entire time. Binghe could feel that Yuan-ge was writing the same few words over and over again on their legs, keeping his writing small and compact. 

Binghe wiped away his tears and fought to steady his breathing, wanting to read Yuan-ge’s words. He started with his left arm.

“My Bing-er, I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“We’ll figure this out, Bing-er, I’ll help you.”

“I’m so sorry Bing-er, you deserve better than this.”

“Bing-er deserves the world, I would give it to you if I could.”

“I’m here, Binghe.”

Yuan-ge had written. They threatened to send Binghe back into a heap of tears, but he held back so that he could look down at his legs.

Yuan-ge had only written one thing, repeating the same words countless times, enough to fill the space from his ankle up to his knee on both legs.

“Binghe is precious.”

Binghe couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. He wrote back to Yuan-ge through the blurry film of tears, his poor penmanship suffering even further from his unsteady hand.

“I wish Yuan-ge was here.” Binghe wrote, wishing with all his heart that it could come true. The woodshed was cold and alone, but his body was filled with words of unconditional love. 

Binghe has never felt so alone, but at least he has Yuan-ge.

Even if the rest of the world wants to see him dead or suffering, Yuan-ge is there.

Yuan-ge is all Binghe needs.

Part 5

[baeshijima]

FIC WIP POLL !! (bc i cant make my own decisions (˘･_･˘))

okay so guess who is procrastinating on her assignment and is indecisive? me !! which is why i now decided to make this poll haha....

basically there are twelve wips here which i think i could finish if given the motivation, and your job is to decide which one you want to see the most !! i do have more wips i would love to work on, but i wanted to be realistic so, uh, these are the ones i believe i am most like to finish by the end of summer at the latest 🧍‍♀️

under the cut will have the title, the character, the tags, and the summary/outline/the idea the fic will be based off for you to read through and make your choice on !! the poll is at the very end so unless you just. scroll right to the bottom, you can't miss what different wips there are ;w;

disclaimer !! this poll will be running for 3 days, so there will be frequent reblogs of this post ^^

1. as fate would have it

blade x gn!reader ; soulmate au (red string of fate), hurt/comfort, high-cloud quintet references/mentions (at 4.7k words)

summary: after having witnessed your red string snap on that gloomy day, you thought the only times you would see him again were in your dreams and on rainy days when aching nostalgia hit the hardest. never did you think you would see him again — alive and a shell of the man you first fell in love with.

2. an unexpected friend

blade x gn!reader ; fluff, university au, bass player!blade, references to former fencer!blade (at 4.2k words)

summary: when visiting your project partner's apartment for the first time, the last thing you expected was to become a glorified cushion for his cat.

3. one in a million

blade x gn!reader ; celebrity/actor au, exes to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort (at ~600 words)

summary: in which you land yourself the lead role for the long-anticipated drama adaptation of a thriller-romance webtoon. sometimes, you wonder how rotten your luck must be when your co-lead turns out to be your ex, whose character just so happens to be your character's ex. figures.

4. how to get over your first love

phainon x gn!reader ; childhood friends to lovers, fluff, slight miscommunication/misunderstandings (at ~200 words)

summary: the popular boy; the resident nice guy; the one all the neighbourhood grannies excessively dote on; the cookie cutter "bring him home to your family"; your childhood best friend; your first love. well, soon-to-be-ex-first-love, that is! (if you had seen the signs earlier, maybe you wouldn't be kicking yourself right about now for wasting so much time.)

5. [untitled]

phainon x gn!reader x flame reaver ; hurt/comfort, thinking a lot of protectiveness/vigilante-esque things, references to alternate timelines

summary undecided but will be based off of this post !!

6. and in this world, there's a place for you

mydei x gn!reader ; fluff, slow burn, hurt/comfort (i think...), takes place before main story and ends in 3.1 story (at ~200 words)

summary not yet decided but the gist of it is reader is one of the few who welcomes and looks after mydei and the kremoan detachment when they first arrive in okhema and they have a gradual slow burn development !! on the fence about this but i think i will write two endings for the fic...

7. [untitled]

mydei x gn!reader ; modern au (live opposite each other in the same apartment), fluff, crush at first sight, unrequited but actually requited love, wingmen phainon and bubbles

summary undecided but it would be based off this post !!

8. love and... chimeras?

amphoreus men x gn!chimera caretaker!reader <- pretty self-explanatory ; fluff, chimeras play matchmaker, takes place before main story (at ~800 words)

summary: as a member of the garden and one of the primary caretakers for the chimera, you are more than accustomed to their little habits and... unique personalities. well, apparently not accustomed enough when you're suddenly thrown for a loop amidst their endeavour to play matchmaker of all things! OR, the chimeras make it their mission to put you in cliché romantic situations with— not one, not two, but three chrysos heirs. (titans forbid you have any peace.)

9. wounded pride

dr ratio x gn!reader ; fluff, ratio is bad at feelings and in denial (at ~1.2k words)

summary: who would have thought the esteemed dr ratio would be (metaphorically) tearing his hair out over some nonchalant reaction to his true appearance? (certainly not him, that's for sure.)

10. [untitled]

mr reca x gn!reader ; fluff, writer!reader, slow burn-ish, more rom-com-esque, reca falling first and harder, remembrance path!reader (at ~300 words)

summary undecided but will be based off this post !!

11. to you, who holds the stars

alhaitham x gn!reader ; fluff, university au, coffee shop au, strangers to friends to lovers, crush at first sight (alhaitham) (at ~2.6k words)

summary: in which you're a humble café owner and he's a loyal regular who just so happens to find refuge in your starry eyes and bright smile.

12. to love a tragedy (no i havent forgotten abt this.)

duke!sunday x fem!reader ; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn? ish?, transmigration, royalty au, arranged marriage ; series

summary: finding yourself in a different world is a fantasized wish many have, more so among a favoured piece of media. the trope has grown in popularity, ranging from books, to comics, and even as publicised tv series. it's something many dream of, simply because it is not real. at least, that's what you believed until you find yourself in the place of a barely mentioned side character in your favourite web novel. oh, and did you mention this character is the wife of sunday oak, one of the novel's antagonists and your favourite character who is doomed to a tragic fate? well, not if you can help it!

based off this post if you have not read it already !!

for this one the vote for the poll would contribute to me focusing on getting the first few chapters of the fic done !! i have the series masterlist + prologue finished with parts of chapter one done, but if this series wins the poll then that basically is telling me to sit down and work on it hahah...