#every time i see word soulmates i have to think about that one ear biscuits and how link said he doesn't believe in soulmates

[jula483]

they literally captioned their new tiktok:

Soulmates.

[fangirlyah]

✦put your head on my shoulder - Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Reader

summary: SOULMATES!AU when you turn sixteen, the person who is destined to be your life partner, begins to listen when the other person plays the sound that will unite them at some point in their life. but what if your soulmate doesn't know this?

word count: 1,621

warnings: none u think :)

“put your head on my shoulder…” 

oh no not again.

since his sixteenth birthday, draco malfoy couldn't stop hearing a sweet voice sing in his ear at least once a day.

"what's up lad?" zabini asked his friend seeing him rub his temples.

"this is the third time she has sung this song in the day" the great hall exploded with noise but to draco's ears it seemed all a distant whisper.

"I'm glad we can't hear it" your voice was sweet and the first time draco had heard it, he had been terrified; it was one day at night in the library, draco was alone but he heard a female voice next to him. that night he slept only a little, it was one of the few times in his life that he really felt fear.

"you are lucky that yours sings, my soulmate is a know-it-all, I only hear him recite quotes from transfiguration books" the day after he heard you for the first time, he commented on it in the common room and pansy was the first to explain that when you and your soulmate turned sixteen, you would begin to hear the sound that would one day unite the two of you. some people heard the sounds of birds and others the passing of sheets of paper; draco was listening to you sing a song.

"what does she sings, draco?" millicent asked, catching everyone's attention. he couldn't tell it was a muggle song, he couldn't. it was social suicide.

"I think it's the beauxbaton’s anthem" it was not.

you, on the other hand, listened to him mutter a song that you couldn't recognize. you listened little to it, but the few times your ear reached it, you desperately tried to search your cds and find which band it belonged to. but the rhythm always changed, never the lyrics. you had searched through books and books for the few words that reached your ear. the only thing you can understand was 'for now they are bare and full of air, dead files and bits of fluff, so teach us things worth knowing' was not enough to find out what it was.

unlike Draco, you didn't mind hearing him; on the contrary it was relaxing. a few times you had been lucky enough to hear him sing softly as you tried to fall asleep, he had calmed you down like a lullaby. there were times when he sang and you whispered hoping to hear an answer, but it never came. 

months have passed, since they heard each other, when draco took a liking to your voice. it was when he was running besides his aunt bellatrix escaping after dumbledore's death, he listened to you. this time you sang it sweetly, as if you were trying to calm a crying baby. you were in your room brushing your hair after showering when a wave of despair washed over you; you didn't know what it was, everything around you was calm but you felt the need to run. to distract yourself from your thoughts, so you started singing the song you heard months ago on the radio.

"put your head on my shoulder ... hold me in your arms, baby .... squeeze me oh-so-tight ... show me that you love me too ..." you didn't know that draco could hear you, no less that he felt your hands in his hair. as the dark forests surrounded him he felt a delicate caress on his head, no one was touching him for what he assumed it would be his soulmate.

that was the only moment he felt your touch and the only time you felt his feelings. you weren't a witch, you didn't know about hogwarts therefore you didn't have friends to tell you that you were listening to your soulmate. draco didn't know that, he held out to the hope that you were a witch with a fondness for muggle music.

but the day pansy sent a letter to malfoy manor with everything that was happening at school, she told him that everyone was starting to speak to their soulmates through their thoughts. that afternoon he tried and got no response; you did not know about him, therefore you were not a magician. any student of any school of magic knew what happened when you turned sixteen, as everyone was looking forward to that birthday.

 they were in the middle of a war, he was from the dark side battling every non-pureblood person and discovering that his soul mate was a muggle.

even if he wanted to, it was impossible to erase you from his mind because your voice was there involuntarily every time you sang. he didn't know what sound coming from him you were hearing, so he prevented his mouth from expelling anything with rhythm. he no longer gave himself encouragement in a low voice as he used to do, with fear that you will hear him. he wanted to eliminate you completely.

so you stopped listening. you couldn't show your hurt since no one knew what you were hearing, if someone had known they would probably take you to a therapist for help. you didn't want to go because you knew nothing was wrong; that voice calmed you down, gave you peace, it was nothing bad. there were nights when you hung up on your sheets trying to mentally call him to sing to you, but the voice didn't appear.

so you stopped, the song with which you had felt that feeling of despair, did not come out of your mouth for months. and draco noticed. the boy's life was to go from trial to trial, with his freedom in question every day, he needed that voice that bothered him so much before.

It wasn't until after four months of silence that he heard you.

that day narcissa and draco were wandering the muggle streets of london, looking for fancy clothes for the next trial. their mother had specifically asked them to leave the magical world for a moment, she wanted to escape for a while from that place that so badly wished them.

"that dress looks very elegant, I think I'll go in here" a black long-sleeved dress watched her from the window. narcissa opened the door and entered the business. but draco didn't move "come in, draco"

"I'm just going to tour the place a bit" even though his mother was not thrilled with the idea, he went ahead. he had never been alone on the muggle streets of london and for some reason this time he was curious to do so.

to the surprise of every londinese it was a sunny and inviting day, you could be outside your house with just a light coat. there was a large park with children running around and couples having picnics, very close to the business where his mother had entered. since he was little, draco had not been in pure nature like that park, so with a slow step he began to walk along the stone path that surrounded him. he saw old ladies sharing honey biscuits with children who stopped playing on the shaken swings and naive people throwing coins into the fountain making wishes.

his walk only stopped to take off his black jacket. when he did and hung it over his hand, he started walking to stop again. a familiar voice appeared in his ears, it was you. he froze with his head bowed as he tried to absorb the sound.

“people say that love's a game ... a game you just can't win ... if there's a wa-"

"you sing very nice, miss!" a childish voice made him raise his head violently, how did the girl hear the voice too?

"oh thank you very much, sweetie" the air caught in draco's lungs when he heard you speak for the first time. this was not happening in his mind.

when he saw the girl running towards the slides with a smile, he approached the tree in front of him and stuck his head out to the side to meet you. you were with a notebook on your lap writing what looked like school work, sitting on a folded sheet while you murmured a song.

draco couldn't come up and tell you: hey you're my soulmate, because you were muggle.

"good afternoon ... um ... I'm draco malfoy" you looked up to see a blond boy in a suit stretching his hand towards you, you recognized that voice.

"hello draco malfoy, I am y/n y/l" you smiled at him shaking his hand.

"I ... like the song you were singing"

"oh yeah, I wasn't supposed to get so much attention" you blushed, you had never liked being the center of attention, so you thought that if you whispered the song no one would hear you, but you were wrong.

"do you have another song that you like?" he just wanted to hear your voice.

"yes of course! emm ... I have more songs on a cassette at my house, only if you want I can bring it and show you"

"would it be fantastic ... here tomorrow at this time?" you kept eye contact, there was something that united you and him and it was not just the interest in a paul anka song, you thought.

"I'll be waiting"

when draco started walking towards his mother, after waving goodbye. he smiled, the idea that you weren't a magical person and you were destined to be with him disgusted him, but when he saw you as sweet as your voice, those thoughts faded. the idea of ​​being with a muggle sounded good if it was you.

[raikangaru]

See You Again /1 - Zuko x Reader

Warnings: none

soulmate au one shot

part two

mind if i sit here?

She traces the tattooed skin, daydreaming when and who her soulmate will be, would he be an air bender, an earth bender, a fire bender or a water bender such as herself. The world was vast, so many places to find her soulmate, the (hair colour) haired female sighed as she wrapped up her tattooed arm, the female chose to hide her arm as part of her did not want to meet the man she was destined for, she did not want to break his heart. “Lady (your name), afternoon tea is ready,”a blue and white clad maid had interrupted the young female’s thoughts,”oh I see, thank you,”she politely smiled before gathering her own dress and followed her maid. (your name) was escorted to the gardens where her mother and father were seated, “ah good afternoon, my dear,”a (hair colour) haired man greets her and her mother flashes a bright smile, she takes her seat and sips on her tea while enjoying the sweet treats prepared for them. “Your father and I have been talking about your marriage,”immediately the young female sighs in annoyance and her heart clenches,”your father has a friend that has a son you can marry,”her mother jumps excitedly in her chair while the (hair colour) haired girl clutched her tattooed wrist, (your name) had no choice her parents though they are soulmates, do not want her to find her soulmate, rather they want her to marry someone to benefit their business and become wealthier.

“I have invited his family tonight,”her father announced and her mother cheers in her seat, (your name) cringes but accepts her fate. The young woman had no dreams or goals, she had been raised this way from the day she was born, her mother and father had groomed her to be a housewife and to assist her husband in running the business. “Maids dress (your name) accordingly,”the maids nod their head, leaving the family behind,”well you better get dressed darling,”her father says urging the you, she nods before bowing to them as she heads out to her own quarters. “Lady (your name), I have prepared this dress for you. Please step into the tub,”the female follows her maid’s instructions, getting bathed and pampered until she was scrubbed raw. After which she was prepared for the evening, she was dressed in a deep purple fur coat and a matching moon hair piece.

“Thank you,”(your name) waves off her maids as they leave the young woman in piece, she wraps up here arms once again, as a way for her to forget the other half that had been destined to be hers, she was to be put in an arrange marriage to marry a man with wealth and great reputation. She enters the dining hall, a young man with dark brown hair and shiny grey eyes catches the (hair colour) haired girl’s attention, she couldn’t deny that the man was attractive, “ah finally! This is my daughter, (your name),”she politely smiles at the three unfamiliar faces. “Alright shall we all eat?”her father claps his hands and the servants around him begin to plate the appetisers, she takes her seat beside her mother, the grey-eyed young man sits in front of her. “Hi, I’m Audoro,”he flashes her a pretty smile and all she could do was politely return it, there was no doubt that the man before her was handsome, he carried himself with such elegance and class but the young woman did not feel attracted to him. They both continue to stare at each other, examining every detail and feature on display, both their hearts heavy with sadness, they both had a duty to their families, one they can not refuse. She breaks the stare first, glancing down to her bandaged covered wrist, i hope my soulmate understands. 

***

Dinner had been so slow, as the female was forced to interact her arranged partner, the man was not bad she was just not interested, she sighs and plops down in the lavish bed, tonight she wanted to just escape her reality, it was getting too much for the young woman. She stripped off her heavy dress and changed into a more fitting outfit for the outside, she had tied her hair into two  simple braids and draped an outer robe with a hood to help conceal her face. She looks at to her balcony where the coast is clear of servants and swayed her hand to bend a makeshift stairway using the garden fountain, her escapade had to be a secret a woman such as herself did not leave the walls of her home often. Quickly running towards the garden wall and quickly using her bending to help boost her over the wall, once out the young lady made her way towards the town square. Just like every night she’s sneaked out the town was filled with all kinds of people, all types of food and different kinds of street entertainment, it was always exciting to her. A small tea shop catches her attention and it drew her in, without any thought she pushes open the door and was surprised to see it full of people, she picks the only vacant seat in the corner. A female waitress approaches her to take her order,”Hi, what can i get yah?”the waitress happily looks the her, pulling out a small notepad,”I’ll just have chamomile tea and some biscuits, thank you.”the waitress nods and leaves, the young female looks out the window as she awaits her tea, the sounds of chatter and the waves crashing fill the (hair coloured) woman’s ears and she smiles from the calmness it brought her, she slowly unwraps her covered wrist revealing the words she loved and hated, tracing over the darkened skin as tear falls from her eye. i hope we never meet, so i don’t have to reject you. She sighs and continues to immerse herself in the noise, the waitress returns and places down her order, she sips her tea, humming in satisfaction, her body feeling warm and a small smile plasters itself on her face. 

“mind if i sit here?”

The familiar words ring in the female’s ears, as a sharp burning sensation tingles on her wrist making her flinch, she looks up to the man who had spoken and couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her pink lips,”my soulmate,”I say breathlessly, the man, who too was gripping his wrist was beyond handsome, he had been the most attractive man she had ever laid eyes on, his face structure was sharp and had a rather large scar on his left eye but it made his ember-eyes stand out more. “I’ve been searching for you,”his deep voice sending chills down her spine, the man was in awe of the beauty of his other half, their eyes meet and he flushes a bright red, the woman he had been destined for was beyond his expectations. They both stare at each other, hearts beating rapidly as the bond they shared kicked in, falling back into reality the woman shakes her head and answers the man, ”sorry, yes you can sit,”she was flustered and her heart now conflicted, she had to tell him, as much as she wanted to be with him and run away, her parents were powerful people they find her in an instant. 

“I’m Zuko, I’ve been waiting for you all my life,”he introduces himself as he takes a seat across from her,”I’m (your name),”she laughs at his flushed face and his face breaks into a brighter smile, almost forgetting about the marriage arranged by her parents, her smile falls and instantly the man places his warm hand over hers, as if asking if she was alright. She shakes her head as tear start to form in her eyes, the man before her panics as he did not know how to comfort girls, not even his own sister but he’ll do anything for his soulmate. “Zuko, I hope you understand. I want to be with you but my parents have arranged a marriage for me,”the (hair colour) haired female begins, the man infornt of her furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “why have they done that?”he asks his voice slightly raising, she looks away from him, it hurt too much to see her mate this way but she had to be honest. “They want me to marry for the sake of our family business, my parents want to be wealthy. So they’ve arranged me with a noble water tribe family,”she explains, unknown to her the man was the ruler a nation, the Fire Nation,”I don’t think there’s any way to convince them,”she whispers the last part. “But don’t they believe in the soulmate bond?”he questions and she shakes her head, the man nods his head, a plan formulating in his head. “I’m not going to give up on you,”the male promises and the young woman with so much sincerity that it takes her aback and made her heart flutter, her cheeks tint pink, never had a man spoken to her in that way.

She could only nod, Zuko smirks to himself proud that he had flustered such a beautiful woman, he wasn’t going to let her go easy, he was going to put on a fight for her, she was his after all. “Let me walk you around?”the dark haired man suggests, she stares at him for awhile before deciding,”I don’t think we should,”she says dejectedly, as much as she wants to, it’ll be hard for her to let him go. “Just let me take you out, I’m your soulmate after all,”his smile had nearly given the poor girl a heart attack, she could help but mirror it, she thought for awhile, weighing the pros and cons of spending time with him, it’s not like she’ll ever feel this way again,”yeah, I guess,”she sighs and before she knew it. Zuko had taken her arm in his, paid for her order and left the small tea shop.

They walked hand in hand in the busy town square, getting to know each other, they watched performers dances and sing, she had unconsciously leaned her head on his shoulder, gripping his arm, almost as though she did not want to let him go. They ended up at the beach where they both sat on the sand, their legs intertwined with each other, though they didn’t speak they enjoyed each other’s company, she felt a wave of sadness wash over her, when the sun rose, she had to go back. To her reality. “What’s wrong?”he asks, living down at the (hair colour) haired woman, she looks at him with wide, glassy (eye colour) eyes,”I don’t want this night to end,”she sobs quietly as the reality of her life sinks in, she can never be with him. “I know, me too,”he moves her a strand of her hair behind her ear, ”but we’re soulmates, life finds a way,”he reassured her, she wants to believe him but little did she know he had something up his sleeve. The sun began to rise, their first sunrise together, the sight was like every love story ever but this one had to end, the (hair colour) haired girl got up, dusting all the sand off her, “I have to go, they can’t know I’m missing,”She says almost in a panic, Zuko stands taking her hands in his, it eased some stress,”let me walk you home,”he offers and she nods her head, walking in the direction of her estate.

They stop infront of the wall she had gone over, “this is where I live,”she sighs sadly, not wanting to, Zuko takes this opportunity to pull her in close and bravely leaving down to place a delicate kiss on the (hair colour) haired woman’s lips, catching her off guard, she couldn’t help the blush cover her cheeks as she kissed the ember eyes man back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see you again”

//

m a s t e r l i s t 

heyya! something new-ish, i’m a little out of ideas and my classes have begun. but i love the thought of a soulmate au, what do you guys think? should i list out prompts and have you guys pick which ones you like, don’t be afraid to hmu i love hearing you guys out with what you want! if you enjoyed this please leave a like, have a great day!

all the love xx

[obaby-me]

Heartbeat

Satan x Reader

Given that Satan wasn’t born under any “natural” circumstances, he wonders if he has a soul.  And likewise, a soulmate.

Author’s Note:  This is a Soulmate AU based around the idea that you cannot feel your heartbeat until the day when you find your soulmate.  This is not an automatic response in meeting your soulmate for the first time, but rather when you first fall in love with them.  And as all loves begin, it’s with the little things.

Also, tried writing in another tense to see if I like it.

Satan was born from Lucifer. A piece ripped from the angel during his defiance against his Father.  A part, a fragment, a scrap, a facet of someone else.  

Though he has since grown into his own person with his own thoughts, his own feelings, his own interests and desires, there lingers a question:  does he have his own soul?

And by the same token, does he have his own soulmate out there waiting for him?

Every soul has its mate. This is an undisputed fact.  You may never find them, or meet them in your lifetime, but they are out there for each person.

The question of having his own soulmate was a thought that crossed his mind only a handful of times in the centuries since his creation.  His focus was solely trained on gathering knowledge, gaining enough power to warrant respect.

But now he sits in the common room of the House of Lamentation, his feet entangled with yours as you sit opposite to him on the couch.  And the question crosses his mind:  does he have a soulmate out there?

He can’t place where the thought has come from, but he dwells on it thoughtfully, observing you.

Your look of concentration as you stare hard into your textbook, and the way you hook your legs into his is endearing in a way he can’t define.  The way you sigh at the pages, your head in your hand, mussing your hair, makes him smile.  There’s a warmth that spreads through him.

He hadn’t noticed he was staring until you shift your gaze up at him.  “What is it?”  You ask.

“You look troubled. Anything I can help with?”  He offers.

“I don’t think so,” you sigh.  “I’ve read the same paragraph three times.  I think maybe I need a break.”

“I think I can help with that actually,” Satan says with a grin, closing his book.  He is delicate in removing his legs from yours, and offers his hand out to you.  You smile up at him, taking his hand as you stand.  He doesn’t explain further, but he doesn’t need to.  You accept where he leads you without question, trusting whatever he has mind.

He takes you to the kitchen, taking you to a seat which he pulls out for you at the large island in the middle of the kitchen.  “Always the gentlemen,” you tease with a playful chuckle.  You thank him for the seat, as he bows playfully in return.

He starts a kettle of water, and reaches into a cabinet for the various small tea tins he has collected, specialties from the corners of devildom and beyond, that he saves for special occasions.

It’s a quiet night of studying as is every night in House of Lamentation.  By all accounts, it’s not special in any definable way.  But he feels like it is anyway.

“I have biscuits in my room that I’ve hidden from Beel.  They’re from a little shop hidden in the middle of a forest, that specializes in making baked goods with the berries that naturally grow in the surrounding area.” He says, as he takes two mugs and drops a teabag in each one.  “This tea is also from the same shop, made with wildflowers.”

“That sounds amazing. How did you find such a place?” You ask with interest, leaning on to the countertop with your head in your hand.

“I met someone at a café that recommended it to me.”  Satan explains, leaning against the counter beside the stove waiting for the whistle of the kettle.

“As you do.  You meet the most fascinating people, Satan.”  You express with a smile.  “You’re so good at getting along with everyone you meet.”

“Do you think so?”  He asks, eager to hear more of your praises of him.  It pleases him to no small degree when you look at him so admiringly.

“Satan, your D.D.D. is filled with so many contacts, Asmo’s jealous.”  You say with a laugh, and it’s the loveliest sound.  “And you manage to go the most interesting places, and find the most amazing things!”

“I do love rare things,” he admits with a proud smirk.

“What’s been your latest find?”  You ask.  Hardly anyone ever asks.  Certainly not his brothers.  He’s more than happy to tell you all about it.  And you hang on his every word.  He moves closer to you, leaning onto the countertop with you as he draws in invisible map in front of you with his fingers, trying to explain his route to his most recent prize.  He is so caught him in his chatter he misses the kettle giving its finishline scream.

You take his hands into yours and Satan’s breath catches.  “Water’s boiled,” you say with a smile.  “Not that I don’t want to hear more,” you add quickly.  “But the sound is kind of—” you make a face of annoyance. He can’t help but chuckle.

He squeezes your hands gently before letting go and turning back to the stove.

“Let’s head up to my room for those biscuits, shall we?”  He offers. When he turns he finds you staring at your hands, a blush painting your features.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” You ask, as if startled.

“I said, we should go upstairs to my room,” he repeats.  “For biscuits.”

“Oh, yes!”  You say rather excitedly, whatever moment you were having suddenly passing.

Satan continues his story up the stairs and down the hall, his pace leisurely so as not to spill the tea. You match his pace and glance down at your feet, suddenly seeing something of interest.

“What is it?”  He asks stopping his pace.

“Oh, nothing!  I just noticed we were taking steps at the exact same time like a three-legged race,” you say with a laugh.  “It’s just something silly, I suppose.  I just thought, ‘we’re perfectly sync’d!’  Sorry, I was listening though.”  You assure him.

Perfectly sync’d, you say and he finds the thought comforting.

In his room he realizes that given all the books everywhere, he hardly has room to actually host you. While he’s never felt embarrassed about it before, he suddenly feels bashful now.  But you don’t seem to mind and quickly move to his bed where it’s the least covered in papers and books and pat down beside you as if it’s your room in the first place.

Something about sitting on the bed together makes his face heat, but it’s not as if you two haven’t sat in his bed studying before.

You sit side by side, and talk as you sip and he pulls biscuits from his bedside table and offers it to you.

Playfully rather than take it by hand you lean forward to bite into it from his hand.

“If you’d wanted me to feed it you, you could have asked,” he teases, taking one hand to lift your chin up.

Your eyes widen at him in surprise, and he takes it as his chance to quickly slip the biscuit against your lips.

What should have been playful, he realizes a little too late became something a little more, when you opened your mouth gently to bite into the biscuit, never breaking eye contact with him.

There was a pounding in his eardrums like he’d never heard before.

Like a headache that didn’t hurt.  Like drums that were being played in his ears.  His face felt heated and he is sure that he is red as you.

For a moment you stare at each other before he breaks the contact with clearing of his throat and turning his head away.  “S-sorry,” he apologizes, but you don’t respond.

He takes a glance at you and is surprised to find you with a hand to your chest.  “N-no, it’s fine.”  You manage to get out, sounding a little breathless.

That warmth he felt earlier in the evening feels red hot and in his chest, and tight.

And like it’s trying to burst through his ribs.

His heart is beating, he realizes.

His heart is beating!

And from the way you grasp at your chest, he knows yours is too.

He can’t help but grin, despite the blush that paints his face, despite the flutter in his stomach, despite the shaking of his hands.

He calls your name gently, and offers another biscuit.  “May I feed you again?”  He asks.

You shyly nod and scoot a little closer to him to have the next bite.  He slips an arm around your shoulder and with a smile you lay your head on his shoulder.

Yes, he does have a soulmate, he can finally conclude.  And he’s found you at last.

[ellyisaslygirl]

I saw that your requestings are open, this is actually the first time i request something and i want to say that your writing is really good!! 😊Can you make a fic about that Draco is really mean to the reader and he finds out that they are soulmates. So he is a bit neutral to them and eventually not bullying anymore and tell the reader the truth about finding out, but the reader doesn't forgive him for what he did to the reader and their friends and if u want make them a hufflepuff Thank u💕💕

“Oh My!” Y/N gasped looking at her friends’ face. There were building boils on her face and she looked around her friends and then just looked down at poor F/N.

“Let me guess, Malfoy?”

They nodded and that’s when Y/N stormed past her group of friends. Surely, they can take care of F/N. Y/N wasn’t paying attention when Goyle suddenly tackled her to the ground. It felt like her bones were going to break. “GOYLE FUCK OFF ME!” She winced, trying to push him off as she couldn’t breathe.

“Goyle, how many times must I tell you? That’s not how you take control over women.” You knew who said those sickening words. But Goyle got off, making her able to stand on her own two feet. “Why did you do that to my friends?”

“Ha!” he chuckled and stick his tongue out in  the lower level of his mouth. “How could I have not? They’re a disgrace.” He said disgrace with an almost drawled out ‘s’. “Just because they’re not pure-bloods?!” She was about to lose it. Neither of his friends knew what to do when she tackled him, but he already saw it coming and pushed her against the wall.

“Boys, out!” He commanded and they scurried away.

His face harden, his nose shaping slender but his nostrils flared. “L/N, I swear-” He looked over at her left wrist and saw that they had the same freckle on the same place, color, and size. He knew what it meant. He quickly let go of her.

“I must go.” he straightened his collar, letting go of her and strutted away from the corrirdor, leaving Y/N confused.

Days passed, Y/N was in H/H(Hogwarts House) but she couldn’t help every once in a while looking at her briefly and then looking away. “What’s been up with Malfoy?’ your other friend Charlotte asked, her honey blonde waves shining even more. :I don’t know, actually. I would’ve thought he’d try something with you guys again or use Snake Spawn soap.” Y/N shuddered, but her friend, Natalie looked at her. “He did succeed. Did you not see my face? Girl.” she waved her hand before eating her biscuit.

Why was he treating her like this? What did he know that she didn’t?

Everyone was in the common room. Your friends by the round table, away from the popular house-mates. “It’s gotten worse.” Y/n said, bringing her school bag to the floor.

“How so?” Nat askeed.

“We were in Herbology. He didn’t throw dirt, mess with my plants, or do whatever he usually does.” Her friends had their jaw lowered and then they screamed, jumping up and down , even though they were sitting down. They were receiving looks at the other people, but they didn’t care.

Y/N cringed and covered her ears for a moment. “W-what? What are you guys freaking out about?”

“HE LIKES YOU!”

Y/N’s abruptly stood from the chair and clenched her fist. “He does not! Now! No more of this nonsense.” She grabbed her books and ascended to the dorm.

She quickly took her clothes off and into her night ones. She plopped onto the bed. At this point, she didn’t know what to do. And even if that slimy rich boy who thinks he’s God did like her, she would not forgive him.

Those four of her friends were all she had left and she didn’t want to lose any of them, even if it was just a stupid prank that he pulled on them. ....something bad could’ve happened.

Those were the thoughts that carried her into a a tossy-turny- kick sheets off the bed type of sleep.

The next morning was hard to deal with. It was like she was overly tired and kept knocking into people, constantly whispering apologies. It wasn’t until she hit someone, but her eye sight was blinded by the sun. “Hey, Watch it!” shit.

She recognized that voice, but that part didn’t matter. As he poked her, he looked straight into her eyes and vice versa. Images full of color, and bright. Quick flashes of what seemed to be the ‘future’ were filled with them. A dance of in one’s dorm. Them smiling, playing games together, him showing her how to ride a broom better, and then there was some that had shown them sneaking after Hogwarts even though it didn’t look like it anymore. Something bad happened.

Suddenly, they snapped out of it. “MALFOY!?’ his friends called him. Draco looked at Y/N. He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

:What, Y/N?”

“I know you saw it.”

“Saw what?” he rolled his eyes, “I have to get to class.”

“This isn’t over!” She shouted. Her heart was racing, there was no way she was going to classes today. She didn’t give much care enough for them. She was going to have to do something. But it wouldn’t under she was thrown into a broom closet. “Lumos.” the person said and then Draco’s face lit up.

“What the actual fuck are you trying to do to me, you git?’ He rolled his eyes and kisses her, she squirmed, but he kept a firm grip on her. Images came back, it was like filtered hazy, but it was a dark time, like as a next part to the destroyed Hogwarts, he had a mark, one she couldn’t recognize on his wrist like a tattoo, him being overly protective of her, ring, small footprints like a baby on the sandy beach her dad took her to when she was younger.but in the mixture, was a set of  intensity, like no one could hurt her as long as he was close, her heart was racing, it felt so warm and comforting. Safety. She felt like she could never let him go and more flashes went by, but she couldn’t pay attention to them as she was now more focused on his lips.

She never thought she was going to kiss him. Especially recently. What was she doing!? He finally pulled back, “Do you not get it?’ he asked, staring down at her face. “What the hell are you doing to me? What was that?” she was frantic but he covered her moth with his hands.

“We’re soulmates. “ He deadpanned and her eyes widened, swiping his hands off her mouth. “That’s rubbish! Me-you-us-soulmates!? Please.” she rolled her eyes. “I think what’s happened the last few days says enough. I was even able to get inside your head...so I know what you think of me....if you were stronger you could read mine.”

So, they were soulmates. Y/N was still pissed off though, she shook her head, biting her lip. “I can never be soulmates who hurt my friends.”

“Would you let that go!?” he asked, going over to touch her.

“No, Malfoy! I will not.” He gripped her hand and her vision went blurry, but she pushed him away. “Okay, we are, but no. Unlike you I care about my friends!” She rushed and ran as fast so, Malfoy couldn’t chase her and she went down to her dorm with tears in her eyes and denial in her mind

[nighttimepixels]

I LOVE tytanttortoise’s version of soulmates. Mind if i ask what the ladies would respond to finding their soulmate? Please and thank you.

Oh man, this is a good one - I’ll admit, I can be a bit of a sucker for the soulmate trope. (and I love @tyranttortoise and her takes to death)

(also, sidenote on the soulmate front, are you guys following @popatochisssp?? because you should be! They’re a hilarious delight and a fantastic human being and are currently writing a series of oneshots about the skeleguys and their soulmates called Make Your Mark that is obscene levels of adorable and I totally recommend, along with all their writing & hot skele-takes! ♡ )

There’s a delightful not-so-guilty pleasure in the idea of soulmates in the contexts of UT & AUs; see, my interpretation falls in the category of ‘soulmates are people who are so perfectly compatible it transcends any other kind of resonance you have with people who get you’. It’s not so much fate forcing you together as it is… someone who’s just right. Puzzle pieces, you know? 3D ones, that interlock perfectly and make a stronger unit together. ♡

I’m also a big ol’ softie who loves her fluff and happy endings, so, y’know. X)

For transparency’s sake I’ll clarify that I’m not making soulmates canon to the Lilytale fic, but I love indulging in soulmate aus, so… I’ll answer this for those delightful ‘what-if’ scenarios anyways >:)c

That said! I’m beyond tempted to wax on about the girls, but here goes an effort to not be too long-winded (//▽//)ゞ below the cut!

first edit: (post Serif’s) ahaha nope this is long, hope you guys have fun with what turned into a series of super gay minifics

SECOND EDIT: ooookay, this turned into minific central! Below are soulmate setups for Serif, Vellum, and Crimson.

…. -sweats- it got… long.

So, if you want more of these… let me know! Leave a comment too, letting me know what you liked - doing just this much took more time than I meant, woops, so it's nice to hear if anyone's actually into it. X)

To clarify, this isn’t going to be a ‘soul mark’ situation - rather, I’ll work under the parameters that soulmates aren’t something you immediately realize.

For this post, soulmates are someone you are naturally drawn to…

But there’s got to be a moment, right? So… we’ll say that the ‘moment of realization’ only comes when you first kiss your soulmate.

Shhhh don’t @ me I love me some shoujo-tastic fluffy romance ;v;

Serif:

She didn’t think she had a soulmate.

They’re rare, after all; 2 souls, that compatible? Stars, after everything she’s been through… she’s just happy to have a cute s/o like you.

You’ve been dating for a while - she’s not the pushy type, not in the least, and hell, you were friends for well over a year before you’d woken up, leaning against her after a movie marathon turned sleepover… and her hand, tangled in your hair, slowed from it’s gentle stroke. She’d ended up admitting she liked you, to turn a long story short, with a casual matter-of-factness that was just so her - and the way she’d ended up grinning at you when you'd flustered and spluttered… You can’t help but wonder if she wasn’t hoping to hear your laugh.

Of course, you’ve been dating for a little while now. Life was busy, and hell, being friends for long enough, you weren’t in a rush - you held hands, cuddled, even went out on dates to her and now your favorite bar and grill, Charby’s -

She’d kissed your cheek goodnight so, so many times.

Stars, it was so close to your lips, but every time you nearly had the courage to try and sneak a proper kiss by turning your head into her motion - well, you got awfully distracted by the way her eyelights glimmered in the night, looking at you with a softness and focus and something that just stopped every thought in your head…

Maybe that’s why you were so caught off guard when she was dropping you off, one easy shortcut from Charby’s to your front stoop - and instead of turning her head to kiss your cheek at the last moment as always…

She didn’t turn.

Her mouth caught yours, gentle, something like the brush of a butterfly, one that fluttered your stomach as your heart skipped a beat -

And suddenly, everything… clicked. You had no idea how, no idea why, what this was - but it was like you’d been looking at the world through a tilted lens without even realizing it… and her kiss had set it right.

Her breath rushed out of her, her hand tightening in yours, her gaze meeting yours -

And suddenly, suddenly magic tears were welling in her eyesockets. You panicked, torn between laughing in giddy joy and confusion, your hands coming up to wipe them away, questions as to what was wrong on your tongue -

Her hands met your cheeks at the same time, wiping away tears that you hadn’t realized were falling down your own face.

“fuck,” she whispered, a single word that had you laughing wetly for how reverent it sounded coming from her, from your Serif, from- “you’re my soulmate.”

There were a million questions you could have asked - you’d heard the term, knew they were real, but there was so much unknown, so many questions all at once-

Instead, you kissed her.

Nothing, nothing had ever felt so right.

She kissed you right back, laughing and curling her arms around your waist, floored that… that she could have been so lucky. The kiss is breathless and passionate and eventually turns sweetly, mutually languid as she holds you ever closer...

It’ll take a long time for her to feel like she isn’t dreaming, but who’s she to question a good dream? For you… she’d dream forever, wouldn’t she.

Vellum:

Rare was it, a day that passed without your gorgeous skeleton lady-knight in stylish armor didn’t sweep you off your feet.

Literally.

Vellum loved it - loved the feel of you in her arms, loved hearing your bright, flustered laughter, loved the light that sparkled in your eyes, loved the way your arms wrapped around her to stick close.

You were the sun in the sky to her, and stars, she loved getting to be the one to see you rise, again and again, day after day. And when you were feeling low… well, she was just as willing to be the clouds that pillowed you and gave you a break from the pressures of everyday life-

Hm. Maybe that metaphor got away from her a bit.

But still!! The fact was, she loved you, and she knew it. You’d known each other for long enough, even if she was a little nervous about accidentally applying ‘pressure’, as she’d learned might happen from admitting such things too early-

But she just… she knew it. Down to her soul. She’d wait, of course, and besides there was so much to do first and she’d delight in every step of your newly confirmed relationship-

So… why was it she felt like her skull was about to burst as you leaned closer to her, your arms looped around her neck, that look in your eyes-

Kiss her!

Every ounce of her magic was clamoring that this was that soul-pounding moment, where it felt right to kiss you, and clearly you felt the same, and oh my stars her skull was sweating nearly as bad as Serif’s when she was caught sneaking that annoying (but damnably cute) dog into their house the first time-

KISS HER!!

She swooped in, riding on pure instinct and what felt like every butterfly in the world crammed into her ribcage trying very much so to be literally anywhere but that location.

…

She was many things! Strong, tall, extremely clever, definitely a puzzle master, a (now) excellent cook, quite the snappy dresser thank you very much, a brilliant strategist for escape rooms, very athletic and coordinated-

-as it turned out, smooth with the first kiss, she was not.

Her forehead smacked into yours, and you nearly tumbled off the couch you were both sitting on for your MTT marathon, and the popcorn fell off her lap and scattered everywhere as you both yelped at the pain-

She tried to scramble to catch you in the same moment, succeeding only in tangling your legs and knocking half the snacks off the coffee table as she too tumbled off the couch, 90% limbs, stars help her-

With an ungainly thud and mutual groan, you two ended up in a heap on the floor, snacks joining you for the party in a mess that even Serif would be proud of.

“OH, BUTTER BISCUITS…” she groaned, attempting to rub her head as she cleared it - only to find her hand otherwise occupied. It was, in fact, occupied by your own grasping hand, attempting to steady yourself from your newfound position post-injury-

Splayed on top of her, chest to chest, all but straddling her.

Suddenly, the room felt very, very hot. Hotland hot. Oh stars help me, I’m very gay, oh no she’s hot and I’ve injured her but also please don’t move or also ever remember what just happened hot-

Vellum could tell she was blushing by the low lights in the room doing ill to cover the glow over her cheekbones.

Vellum could tell you were blushing by the gorgeous shade your cheeks took on, the heat creeping down to your neck and even over your ears as you seemed to freeze, realizing your position in the same moment-

A slew of apologies were on the tip of Vellum’s summoned tongue, really. You would have heard them all-

If you hadn’t suddenly gotten a terribly brave and attractive look in your eyes, flushed cheeks aside - and swooped down to press your lips to her mouth.

For the rest of your lives, the story changes as Vellum tells it - sometimes she’s successful in gallantly catching you, others she’ll admit to fumbling it in the first place - but what never changes…

What never changes is how she compares it to seeing the sun rise for the first time.

To breathing fresh air, free of the underground’s stagnation, for the first time.

To realizing that for the first time in her life, she… she was free. And she had purpose - any purpose she wanted in life…

Because you… being with you… that was the reason the sun rose in the morning, to her. That kiss sealed it. Your futures, building and twining together - that kiss sealed it. Tackling all of life’s excitement, it’s lows and highs, it’s beauty and it’s struggles…

In that moment, it crashed through both of you, bursting open a damn and sealing something that deep down, you both realized you’d very nearly already known.

Neither of you thought to clean up the mess scattered about you for hours to come.

After all… Vellum was nothing if not very driven to be the best in everything she did. And you… well, you were her incredible soulmate, and she would show you just how much that meant to her, how much you meant to her - every day, for the rest of your lives.

Crimson:

The first time you kiss…

Is the first time you meet.

It wasn’t, in fact, a hook up - though when you’d walked into the busy bar, Crimson had done a double take immediately. Stars, you were… something. She knew a lot of people from all walks of life, knew how to get a vibe for what they were like, knew that sometimes some people just really vibed.

She’d never felt as drawn to someone before.

Naturally, she balked.

She wasn’t looking for a relationship - sure, sure, they were on the Surface, sure that seemed solid, no more screwy time-space anomalies, but… there was a lot to do, see, experience. It’d been a few years, yeah, but - she was a boss monster. She had a hell of a lot of life ahead of her - she didn’t… do serious. Not yet, anyways.

… Not even if she laid awake sometimes, hands folded behind her head and staring out the skylight she’d personally installed in her bedroom ceiling… just… wondering what it would be like to look up with… someone, someone who cared… tucked against her side.

… No, no. It was just - you’re gorgeous, it was obvious. Hell, if anyone insinuated otherwise, she’d either scoff or, maybe, deck them - as a service, obviously. Clearly they needed some sense knocked into ‘em, after all.

But uh, maybe you were… too good for her to… try and hook up. You were laughing with a friend - not alone, anyways. She’d see if you were down to dance, when a good song came on, just - eh, she was overthinking it-

She threw back her shot, waved at her friend the bartender to bring her another round, slammed that one back -

Aaaand tugged another girl to the dance floor.

What? She had standards.

… You met ‘em, at least from a distance, dammit. If she wasn’t gonna hook up with you, she had to burn of some kinda energy before approaching you and seeing if she was just too damn horny for her own good or if maybe she was still half-decent at reading souls and you’d be the kinda person she could… not… hook up with-

Of course, she couldn’t notice the way your own eyes had caught her as she disappeared into the dance floor’s crowd with another girl in tow. Didn’t catch the way your friend teased you for the distraction, following your line of sight… couldn’t know that they’d also given you a heads up, being a frequent visitor to this bar themselves, that Crimson wasn’t exactly the serious type, just so you were… forewarned.

Instead, all she knew was about an hour later, after a brief but very fulfilling trip to the back hallway and a closet Crimson could break into in her sleep, she exited a few minutes after her liaison with the other girl that had decided she was good for the night and left the bar -

After that, all she knew was she saw you, on one edge of the dance floor. Your friend wasn’t there. Three guys, however, were, and they were getting decidedly and unwantedly friendly.

Crimson hadn’t survived this long with half-assed instincts, or without developing an uncanny ability to read faces and body language - or, with a little more special a skill, read the intent of a soul.

You didn’t even see her coming, and startled when you heard Crimson’s voice from behind the guys that had zeroed in on you while you waited for your friend to get back from the bathroom.

“there ya are, cariña- sorry for takin’ so long.”

Two of the guys stumbled as her hulking form shouldered past them. Her grin was practically sultry - she swore she heard your heart skip a beat, but with all the bass thrumming through the room, surely that was her imagination.

Your blush and confusion wasn’t - but just as quickly, she saw you cotton on, and a flash of relief went through your gaze. She slung her arm around your shoulders, grin crooked and eyesockets lidded as she winked at you, ignoring the now blustering men.

“y’ wouldn’t believe the request i heard this guy give the dj- it was real obvious taste wasn’t his forte.”

You snorted.

Fuck, you were cute.

Your hands clapped over your mouth, but you were giggling, clearly not expecting her excellent humor, and Crimson grinned wider, snickering herself before the dumbasses who’d been bothering you and not taking a hint decided to prove how bad they were at this whole hint thing.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say you were seeing someone, c’mon,” one of them whined. The look Crimson shot him shut him up, and not for the first time her temper threatened to get away from her-

But then, another one of the morons spoke up.

“Oh please, don’t act, you’re too cute for someone like this bitch-”

Crimson didn’t even have time to misplace that temper.

The next moment, you’d grabbed her by the furry trim of her collar and tugged down and-

You were kissing her.

Later, she found out you’d done it not just to shut up the ‘total jerk’, but also to prove a point because you had noticed her, thought she was cute and ‘also rudely hot, I mean really, there you were just- just walking-’, and you couldn’t stand by that guy insulting her or your taste so with a little liquid courage burning an empty belly you’d gone for it because guys like these didn’t really accept words-

In the moment, though, the bar didn’t matter. The idiot guys she was half inclined to toss through the door herself didn’t matter. The pulse of the beat, the fact that, er, well, she’d just screwed the brains out of a girl in a supply closet and left her very satisfied, thank you- that didn’t matter-

Because you were kissing her, and holy shit, you were her soulmate.

Apparently, the rest of the world ceased mattering in the same moment, because when Crimson’s arms scooped you up and turned you around, pressing your back against the wall as her hand dragged along your thigh, your arms wrapped desperately around her neck and your legs, gods, your perfect legs wrapped around her hips-

…. Yeah, safe to say, you both forgot about the room. Neither of you had a damn clue what happened to those assholes that had been bothering you.

Eventually, when she broke the kiss to allow you, her perfect, breathless, soulmate a moment to breathe - her hands clutched you closer, one hand sliding into your hair. Her forehead met hers, her own breathing rough, her red eyelights dilated and fuzzy.

“soulmate,” she whispered, almost disbelieving. The reverence in her voice could have shaken mountains to dust.

Her…? You, her soulmate?

She didn’t know your name, didn’t know anything about you. She would though, and she just… knew, whatever you were like… gods, she was crazy about you. Fucked up, soul-scarred, battle-worn her…

What did she have to offer you? She - well, she was a fair hand at a bunch of shit, sure. Was kinda, secretly, wealthy… thanks to some of her inventions. But she had so much blood and dust on her hands, and… she didn’t regret all of it. She’d do it again, and she knew that had to make her an awful person -

Hell, she’d always assumed… well, as much as she craved a soulmate, as many times as she’d recounted fairy tales in Scarlet’s youth to her about older, better times, about the hope a soulmate brought a monster…

….. She never thought she’d be one of the lucky few to actually have a soulmate.

She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve you. 

Fuck, she’d never let you go.

You’d cursed, then, looking awed, and it startled a laugh from Crimson. She was grinning, beaming, hoenstly, and the expression felt foreign on her skull… as did the flush stealing over her cheeks. Would getting to know you inspire… this? But stars… you were blushing too, and maybe, just maybe, Crimson could get used to the feeling if it meant she could see that look on your face.

That warmth, that… excitement, that hope-

You were hers. And fuck, if only you knew - if only you knew how much she was yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

after note: can I just say… thank you so much to anyone who leaves a comment, whether a reply or a tag squeal?

I know it’s no chapter update, but these kinda posts take a while, so… seeing people like it enough to leave a little thought or bit of excitement one way or another beyond a like means a lot. You cuties are the majority of why I’ll take the time to sit down and write all this! I appreciate you deeply, and trust me when I say I read every comment ;//////;

Lilytale is such a… niche AU, so it means a lot to get any kind of interaction/feedback for it. Hearing that it means something to you cuties… well, that just makes my day in ways I can’t really describe.

[myukulelegentlyweeps]

Nowhere Man (Part II)

Author’s note : ‘Tis here! This story is so great, I kind of want to make a multiple part fic with it. What do you guys think? [Also, go read Part I and Part I bis if you haven’t already!]

Pairing : George Harrison x female reader

Summary : The reader has become very close with George over a short period of time and they have a beautiful friendship...Will it become something more?

Word count : 1094

Warnings : none, I think? I mean, same as part I, if you don’t like reading about soulmates, the universe and all that, you will probably not like this, but Idk

There was something about George Harrison. Something you could not quite put your finger on, a vibration, an aura, it fascinated and magnetised you. You had not known each other for long, yet somehow he felt like a childhood friend, as though you had been close before and were merely rediscovering one another after having spent time apart. All in all, he smelled like home. 

You dipped a biscuit into your tea as you glanced out of the window of the coffee shop, waiting to see him appear on the corner of the street. It was a cloudy afternoon. It had been almost a month and a half since your first encounter ; you met with him at least once a week now, usually on Friday evenings like these, at around six p.m. when he got out of the studio. Considering the circumstances, one could have expected him to be exhausted when he sat down with you after a long week of stressful recording - but no matter how worn out he looked physically, with his all but neat shave and the dark circles under his eyes, he always seemed to lighten up when he was around you. Though some days he was less talkative than others, not once did he fail to smile and make you smile in turn, with the dashes of his witty sense of humour.

He was such a kind and gentle soul. You could hear it in his deep, warm toned voice and in his choice of words. You saw it in every one of his mannerisms, the way his fingers lightly traced geometrical shapes on the table when he explained something, the quiet nods he gave you to signify he was listening, the soft touch of his hand brushing your stray hairs behind your ear, tucking in a flower on occasion. He reminded you of a character straight out of a children’s book, or a poem. 

You heard the noise of a chair being pulled and substracted yourself from your reverie to look at a grinning George now seated in front of you. He appeared less tired than usual, and you soon understood why : the Beatles had just spent the day recording I Me Mine, the song he had specifically written as a commentary on Paul and John’s selfishness. He had told you about it just two weeks prior, saying he was not usually this bitter but could not wait to get his bandmates to harmonize with him while he (quite blatantly) criticised them. 

“Congratulations!”, you laughed, “I will drink to your victory.” You elevated your cup in his direction and sipped your tea as you would champagne. The waitress came to your table and he ordered himself a hot chocolate with loads of whipped cream on top, as a way to celebrate, you supposed. He could eat anything and keep the silhouette of an underwear supermodel, which you envied him for. The mug they brought him resembled a bathtub, and you asked him if he would be able to finish it, to which he replied “Oh (Y/n), you don’t know me at all, do you?” Indeed, he gulped it all down just fine, and it left enough room in his stomach for him to steal a biscuit from your plate. 

As per usual, you sustained a long conversation, this time revolving around the themes of alternate realities, spirituality and life after death. Though you did not agree on everything, your positions complemented each other and you found it very easy to open up to him about your beliefs, sensing his true interest in your words and the lack of judgement in his gaze. Eventually it became completely dark outside and you stood up to leave, it was late and you had to wake up early the next morning to study for your midterms. You were ready to hug him goodbye but he smiled cheekily and seized your hand instead, suggesting he could walk you home.

You exited the cafe hand in hand. Street lights were already on and cast a yellow gleam on the pavement, through the thin layer of fog floating just above the ground. Nightfall had caused the temperature to drop significantly, and the humidity did not help. As you had not planned on staying out this late, all you had with you was a large but thin cotton scarf which you attempted to wrap around your shoulders discreetly, so as to not be seen by George - he himself only had a jean jacket and you wanted to avoid the typical romantic film scene in which the poor man ends up freezing for the sake of the woman. Nevertheless, he was observant by nature and noticed your shivering ; he proceeded to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you closer to him. Soon, your two bodies stuck together in this manner began to function as one, in perfect synchrony, your pace adjusted to his, you bathed in his warmth and your perfume intertwined with the distinctive smell of his cologne. His heart must be beating slower than mine, though, you thought.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”, he asked after a few minutes of silence. At first you were unsure what or how to answer - a month and a half ago, you might have simply said no, as you had always been convinced the idea of a soulmate was made up by people too lazy to make a relationship work through effort. But being with George felt so...effortless, precisely. He put you at ease without having to say a word, you loved him more than you knew you could love, and although you could not be sure he felt the same way, a part of you was convinced he did, in spite of the current platonic state of the friendship. Finally, after a few seconds of premeditation, you said : “I don’t know if it is to be called a soulmate, properly speaking, but I think there are people who bring out the light in us in a very special way. I don’t know...What do you think?”

He did not reply right away. Your building was just two doors away now but you did not want to say so, nursing a silly hope that your parting could somehow be avoided. You walked past your door and didn’t say a word. You were waiting. Waiting for what? After all, how could you have predicted what came next : almost reaching the end of your block, he stopped, pulled away to face you and kissed you fervently.

[besidemethewholedamntime]

until i knew you

For @huntxngbxrd - I hope you have the bestest day that you deserve for being the bestest bean! ily so much <3

Summary: 

"He asks her to marry him again in the same breath that she tells him that she’s pregnant. Hunter’s jaw hangs open, his eyes wide, and Bobbi launches into a not-very-well-pre-prepared speech about how she knows that it’s a shock, and she knows it’s not exactly ideal timing but they’ll be fine because they’re together and together they can handle everything and they love each other." Bobbi and Hunter make a baby, and a pretty good one at that. AU family feels.

{Read on Ao3}

or read below :)

He asks her to marry him again in the same breath that she tells him that she’s pregnant.

Hunter’s jaw hangs open, his eyes wide, and Bobbi launches into a not-very-well-pre-prepared speech about how she knows that it’s a shock, and she knows it’s not exactly ideal timing but they’ll be fine because they’re together and together they can handle everything and they love each other.

She breaks off when she’s only really a third of the way through because she looks at Hunter’s face, his hands holding out the engagement ring she once threw in his face years ago, that are stock still, and haven’t moved in the past five minutes.

“Hunter?” She says, snapping her fingers in front of his unblinking eyes. “You doing okay there, buddy?”

“Just… um…” he opens and closes his mouth several times, imitating a fish perfectly. “Bloody hell.”

“I know it’s a bit scary,” she begins, moving towards him slowly. “But we can do this.”

His demeanour morphs and, withdrawing the hand holding the ring, this bright and brilliant smile lights up his whole face. “Well, duh, of course we can. You and me, Bob, can do anything.”

It’s a relief. Not that she was ever worried, of course, because she knows Lance Hunter like she knows her own mind, but still, it’s a relief nonetheless, and probably accounts for why she’s a little bit breathless and uncharacteristically quiet when she takes his hands in hers.

“Yeah? You mean that?”

“Of course, I do, or has baby-brain got to you already?” His grin is the only reason she resists from punching him in the arm.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she tells him. “I’m really glad to hear it.”

“At least you’ll have to say yes to my proposal now.” He laughs, holding out the ring which she allows him to slide onto her finger without protest. “Can’t have grandma Hunter thinking her precious Lance is bringing a baby into this world out of wedlock.”

Bobbi laughs and this time does punch him playfully in the arm. She is happy though, incredibly so. To have a child with, and be married once again to this man that the universe has inexplicably gifted to her as her soulmate is completely unbelievable but truly, everything she’s ever wanted.

-x-

“No offence, but I think she’s cuter than you.”

“None taken.” Bobbi leans her head back against the too-thin hospital pillow, not caring that she can still feel the bedframe through it. She’s exhausted in the most delightful way, too tired to do anything except lie back and stare at her husband cradling their hour-old daughter in his arms.

“Like bloody well cuter. I can’t take my eyes off her.” He doesn’t look away from their baby as he says this, but she knows the expression on his face. It’s one she’s never seen before, but had recognised it instantly for what it was the moment it appeared. That look of undeniable and unconditional love, the feeling of knowing someone completely even though you’ve just met them. The way that they have your entire heart, body, and soul, and that you know, without a second’s hesitation, that you’d die for them, kill anyone who harmed them.

“Don’t worry,” she murmurs, sleep pulling at her eyelids but she battles it off, not wanting to miss a moment. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

He does look at her, then, eyes filled with tears and this stupid grin on his face like he’s just won the lottery. “You did bloody amazing, love. I am so proud of you.”

His words bring tears to her eyes. Stupid hormones. She closes her eyes briefly so he doesn’t see – she wants this moment to last forever if she can make it. “I’d do it all over again. She was worth it.”

“She’s worth every decision I’ve ever made,” he says, and Bobbi doesn’t think he’s speaking to her anymore, or even their daughter. Perhaps to the universe. To let it know that he’s made his peace with everything that brought this child to him.

“Yeah,” she softly agrees. “Mine, too.”

“We’ll need to think of a name, you know. Baby girl’s cute and all, but I don’t think my nan would like it if it was her actual name.”

Bobbi chuckles gently, still a bit too sore to give the full laugh. “Since when do we care about what your grandma thinks?”

“Since always I’ll have you know, Bobbi. I’m her favourite.”

“Must not have a lot of good options to choose from then.” She sticks her tongue out at the indignation on his face. “But you’re right. Baby girl only works until you’re three days old, then the cuteness wears off.”

“Please, her cuteness will never wear off, will it?” He coos at the baby who sleeps on soundly in his arms. “You take after your old dad like that. The Hunter charm never fades.”

Bobbi could certainly think of a few times where ‘the Hunter charm’ did indeed wear off, and wear off for a while, but now is not the time to mention it. Not when he looks so happy. “Sure, whatever you want to believe.”

She’s so tired now. Given permission, knowing her daughter is in safe hands (the safest she can imagine), she could gladly fall asleep. It’s only the thought that, if she does, in the middle of a conversation about their baby’s name, Hunter might take it upon himself to give her the craziest name he could think of, just because he could and she wasn’t there to stop him. And while Bobbi likes to think he wouldn’t do that, she’s honestly just not sure.

In the end they discuss it for a quick ten minutes, but she falls asleep in the middle of debating Lucy and Delilah. When she wakes up in the morning, she notices that her daughter’s cot has a little name badge now stuck to it, but the writing’s too small to read what it says. Oh, if he’s done it then she’s actually going to kill him. It’s been less than twenty four hours, for goodness sake, and he honestly only had the one job and that was to not do a damn thing!

The man himself strolls into the room, looking suspiciously fresh for someone who supposedly slept on the floor in a sleeping bag. He’s whistling a tune as he comes to kiss her on the forehead, and it’s with remarkable restraint that she doesn’t reach out and squeeze a hand around his throat.

“I notice the cot has a name badge, now,” she says icily.

His expression doesn’t change; he still looks as calm and collected, as content with the world, as he did when he walked in. She wants him to feel real fear, because if their baby daughter is called something like Calamari just because he thought it was funny then his death is going to be slow and painful indeed.

“Yeah. I thought I’d pick one for you, you know, seeing as you were so tired last night and all that. Just cut right to it.”

“And what, God help you, did you choose?”

“Sophie. It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

It was, actually. It had been the name she’d been thinking about for her daughter before she was even thinking of children. There had been a point, though, where she’d never thought it was going to happen and so she’d buried it, deep, and never thought of it again.

She forgot she told him. She forgot that he would remember.

“It was,” she says softly, looking at her sleeping Sophie in her cot. She aches to hold her but she doesn’t want to wake her, so she hugs her brilliant husband instead.

“Have a little faith in me, sweetheart,” he laughs into her shoulder, and she hugs him tighter in response.

-x-

“Alright!” Bobbi booms, shutting the front door so hard that it rattles the entire house. “Who broke Mrs. Bishop’s window?

She walks into the living room to find her husband and four-year-old daughter sitting at the coffee table, teacups filled with orange juice and a plate of biscuits in front of them. Both have a pirate’s eyepatch on their left eye, a feather boa around their necks, and SHIELD hats (they had to take some swag when they were disavowed) on their heads.

“Wasn’t us, love.” Hunter says innocently, holding a teapot in his hand. “We’re having a tea party.”

“Daddy said biscuits were okay before dinner,” Sophie chimes in.

“Snitch,” Hunter tells her.

“Biscuits aren’t the issue here, you two.” She feels as though she has two children sometimes. “Who broke the window? I’ve just had an earful from Mrs. Bishop and she’s very upset.”

“Ugh, that old bat’s always upset about something,” Hunter moans, pouring some more orange juice into his teacup.

“Well I’d be upset, too, if our window was just broken by a ball that looks suspiciously like the one we had in our backyard this morning.”

“The boys from next door stole it,” Sophie tells her, the one visible eye wide with excitement at the drama. “Me and Daddy saw them and he shouted at them but they wouldn’t give it back.”

Oh. Bobbi calms down considerably, especially because now they don’t have to fork out for a new window and the ‘distress damages’ Mrs Bishop had hinted at, also.

“So, you see, Bob, we were just here having an excellent tea party, no window-breaking whatsoever. Tell her it was those little horrors from next door and that she can’t be accusing a respectable family like us of such nonsense.” He swishes the end of the feather boa over his neck and grins at her. “Now come and have a seat.”

“I can’t,” she says apologetically, thinking of the million things she has to do.

“Oh please, please, please,” Sophie begs her, hopping up and down in her chair. Her smile is so like her father’s that sometimes it takes Bobbi’s breath away. A smile she would die for, she knows that for sure.

“Yeah, love, come on. Have a seat, take a biscuit and some orange juice and relax.” Hunter blows her a kiss and hands her a spare eyepatch.

-x-

“Barbara Morse, you cannot phone the school just to make sure that our daughter has not been swallowed up by a giant sea-monster that has appeared from nowhere and has disappeared to depths unknown.”

She huffs, both at the use of her name and his blatant over exaggeration. “I was just going to make sure that she was doing okay, but thanks for that, Lance Hunter, because now I’m actually worried that she’s been swallowed up by a giant sea-monster that has appeared from nowhere and has disappeared to depths unknown!”

It’s silly, Bobbi knows it is. Millions of children, all over the world, start school and don’t get swallowed up by sea-monsters. They come home with rosy cheeks splattered with paint and grinning with the biggest smiles their parents have seen on them. They make friends, they make fun, and they become even more themselves.

Except it also means they’re growing up, that they’re on that path – albeit a long one – to becoming adults and that one day her precious Sophie, who still needs her to turn on the bathroom light and who can’t quite figure out how to tie her shoelaces just yet, will no longer need her parents the way she does now.

It’s silly, for children aren’t permanent things and were never supposed to be, but Bobbi can’t help the lump in her throat when she thinks of the inevitable future that now seems to be coming at her a lot faster than she once thought it was.

And it’s even sillier, because out of the two of them she’s not really the emotional one, and yet here she is, teary eyed at the thought that her daughter might even be enjoying school, while Hunter stands on the other side of the kitchen, seemingly unaffected by the whole thing.

He had been a bit tearful earlier, when Sophie had run up to him asking if he thought she looked smart in her new outfit, with her new schoolbag and her hair done just so. Bobbi heard him blow his nose in the bathroom.

“You can’t phone them, Bob,” he tells her again, firmly.

She knows but also, she doesn’t. She’s a mother. It’s well within her right.

“I don’t see why not. Just a quick phone call is all. Just to make sure she’s settled,” she pleads with her husband. “Please.”

Hunter comes around to stand in front of her, taking her hands in his. “You can’t phone them,” he says again, looking her straight in the eye. “Because ten minutes ago I just did.”

“You’re amazing sometimes, you know that?” She kisses him, thinking she has never loved him as much as she does right now.

“Only sometimes?” He scoffs, but then he chuckles and smiles that grin that intensifies and also eases her ache for Sophie just a little. “I know.”

-x-

“I still vote for suing them, or at least putting toilet roll all over that instructor’s house.”

“Hunter, we can’t do that. Plenty of kids will break their legs at karate. We signed the insurance papers.”

“It’s because of that instructor’s bloody incompetence that my precious Sophie will have her leg in a cast for the next six weeks, Bob! I can’t believe you’re willing to stand for this.”

“I’m not standing for anything. I’m just saying that we can’t do that.”

“What? You have a better idea?”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

“Whoah! Oh, damn, Bobbi, I like it. Let me get my balaclava and I’ll get you in the car in twenty minutes.”

-x-

“I don’t know whether to mention the fact I was in the SAS, or that I was a mercenary for hire first.” Hunter looks over at her. “What do you think?”

“Mercenary for hire. Kid’s probably never heard of the SAS.”

Hunter nods in assent but mumbles ‘bloody Americans’ under his breath.

Sophie’s brining her boyfriend to meet her parents for the first time. Understandably, she hasn’t told them much about this young man she’s been dating for the past two months and so, understandably, Hunter and Bobbi have been wondering about what to say (and quite possibly do) should this kid turn out to be less than ideal for their daughter.

“I think you should bring the batons out, sweetheart. Just leave them lying on the table and the kid’s bound to notice them.”

“I feel like it’s not subtle enough. We don’t want to be downright terrifying on the first go.”

“Hmm…” Hunter drums his fingers on the kitchen table they sit at. “How about we put them on the wall? We make it look like an ornament, right? And then I make some off-handed comments during dinner about how great you are with them. We suitably terrify him so that he doesn’t muck around with our daughter, but not so that he’s scarred for life?”

Bobbi considers it. It would certainly work. She never thought they’d be the type of parents to be scheming this way, but anything for their child. It brings out the best and worst in them, sometimes, their protective instincts.

“Yeah, okay. Add it to the list.”

-x-

“I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

Bobbi doesn’t say anything, can’t, because now that it’s night time and she’s lying in their bed in their suddenly very empty house in Hunter’s arms she’s suddenly got tears choking her.

She thought she was fine. It was Hunter who cried, earlier. Hunter, who, when they were putting boxes into Sophie’s car (“I can go myself, guys. Seriously. I’ll be fine.”) had had to excuse himself for a whole thirty-minutes to go cry in the bathroom. Hunter, who, when Sophie had driven away to uni, had gone up to the attic and spent the next three hours weeping over baby toys and baby pictures and the feather boas that they had once worn to their tea parties that happened what feels like a lifetime ago.

“What are we going to do now?”

“She’s an adult,” Bobbi manages to choke out, sounding very unlike herself. “We have to let her be one.”

“Stupid kids,” Hunter moans into her shoulder. “They’re all cute and they make you love them and then they just grow up and leave.”

“It’s what they do.” She tries to be diplomatic but she’s rather inclined to agree with him. Kids are stupid, but she loves hers to pieces. “We did it at one point.”

“Oh my God.”

“Exactly.”

It seems to have gone too quickly, these past eighteen years that they’ve nurtured this little person so she can grow and go into the world as her own big person. Sophie is their entire world, all squished into this blonde-haired, sparkly-eyed, dazzling grin-bearing human. To think that they’ve entered this new stage, where the entire dynamic between them has now changed, is more than she can bear.

“I’m going to miss her. A lot.”

“Me too,” Bobbi agrees, feeling the lump come back. “But she’s following her dream and living her life and that’s what we raised her to do.”

“Maybe we did it a little too well. Going to university hundreds of miles way was not what we thought of.”

“We raised her to make her own decisions,” Bobbi says firmly, trying to convince both Hunter and herself. “This was her decision and it was a good one.”

Hunter pulls her tighter to him. “We made a good one.”

She should have put some tissues in her pillow because at this rate it’ll be sopping wet all night. “The best.”

Things fall silent for a bit, and Bobbi, after consoling herself with the knowledge that Sophie said she’d phone tomorrow, almost manages to fall asleep.

Then Hunter taps her not-so-gently and whispers insistently in her ear, “and you remembered to put the panic button in her bag, show her how to use it and all that?”

She smiles into the dark. Well, they couldn’t be entirely normal parents. After all, they’re Bobbi and Hunter. Normal is never something they’ve aspired to be. “You know it.”

He sags against her, visibly relieved. “That’s my girl.”

[reds-lil-things]

~ sea of love~

I wrote a fic based off of that thing I posted earlier just with a difrnet song

——-

“Keith...honey...it’s time to wake up”

Shiro’s soft, gruff morning voice floated through Keith’s ears. His hair was a mess, in a loose almost completely undone pony tail from the night previous.

Keith’s face was pressed into the crook of Shiro’s neck with his arm wrapped lazily around his torso. He could feel the skin to skin contact of there legs being tangled and there chests touching, both boys had gone to sleep in there boxers.

Shiro’s human hand was rubbing soft circles over Keith’s sides and hips, gently trying to coax the other out of sleep.

“What Time is it?” He asked in a still half asleep voice, even before his eyes had decided to open yet. Though even if his eyes weren’t open he could tell that Shiro was wearing a fond smile.

“It’s around 9:30” Shiro responded, reaching his hand from his hip to gently brush a lock of black hair from Keith’s face, Keith hummed contently finally starting too open his eyes.

Violet met warm grey and both men started to smile, it was another beautiful morning. They were both here. They were both alive.

The present time was 2 years after the fight with the galrans, with Lotor, and even now after all this time every morning they woke up together was one more blessing that they cherished to the fullest.

Keith’s hand slipped up from under the covers to gently slid his hand up over Shiro’s bicep. His thumb running over the raised skin that indicated a scar. His hand stayed there for a moment.

“How’d you sleep my love?” Keith asked, hand sliding up to gently cup Shiro’s face. The cool metal of the gold wedding band on Keith’s ring finger pressing into Shiro’s cheek; who In turn gently curled his own fingers around Keith’s turning his head slightly too kiss his palm.

“I slept great” he assured, leaning in to gently rest his forehead against Keith’s. They both closed there eyes savoring the contact. They stayed that way for a few moments before Keith leaned in, gently connecting there lips.

There was no intent behind the kiss, it was all just tender love, utter devotion and a feeling of completeness that couldn’t be explained with words.

They were in love, they had each other, and that’s all they ever needed.

They stayed that way for a long while, just holding each other. There lips connected while they savored the quiet of the morning. It wasn’t until the dessert warblers began too chirp outside the window that they pulled apart. Soft smiles still lingering on there lips.

“Biscuits and gravy for breakfast?” Keith asked, his fingers shifted to slide through Shiro’s stark white hair. Keith nodded in agreement.

They pulled apart, pulling away the covers and they both climbed out of bed. Walking over to their shared dresser.

Keith pulled on a pair of soft pajama pants he’d gotten the previous year for Christmas, they were flannel and quiet soft. Keith didn’t see any reason too actually get dressed, they didn’t have anywhere to go today anyway. He pulled on a shirt of Shiro’s, liking the loser fit and how the smell of Shiro’s cologne still clung to the fabric. Shiro followed suit in a white shirt and black sweats, smiling when he saw Keith slip on one of his own shirts.

Once they were both dressed, Shiro leaned over and gently pecked Keith’s lips, Keith happily pecked Shiro’s lips in turn after he’d pulled away, they laced hands to walk out of the bedroom together.

“I love you” Keith said softly.

“Love you too” Shiro returned.

They walked into the kitchen together, parting hands, Keith walked over too the old beat up radio tuning it too a channel specifically for soft love songs, they listened to this channel all the time. Shiro walked too get ingredients from the cupboard, and Keith joined him pulling out a few pots and pans.

They got too work, Keith making the biscuits and Shiro making the gravy. In between stirring and kneading the two would share soft pecks and loving glances. Keith would hum along too the song and Shiro would chuckle and Shiro would sing softly along with him. By the time the biscuits were in the oven. Shiro had flour handprints on his butt and Keith had gravy on his cheek, everything seemed like it couldn’t get more perfect.

Until that song came on the radio.

That song....it took Keith down memory lane, it was what him and Shiro had listened too on there wedding night. Slow dancing, letting the world melt away.

“Come with me, my love~”

Shiro’s gaze met Keith’s and there eyes both softened.

“Shiro...it’s our song” Keith said softly before he took a few steps closer too Shiro and the two embraced.

“Yeah...yeah it is” Shiro said softly.

They Hugged each other tightly. This song always made Them both so nostalgic...that entire day had been so surreal for them. It was small, there friends, Keith’s mom and Shiro’s parents; in a small cathedral. Instead of one waiting for the other at the alter, they’d walked down the aisle together. Hand in hand, a symbol of them walking together through everything.

There vows had been touching, and finally, finally, after all they’d been through. They could forever be together..and this song..it was the one they played for the two grooms to dance too. The first dance of the night, with just him and Shiro on the dance floor, swaying together in each others embrace..that’s when he knew..that’s when Keith knew that Shiro truly was his soulmate.

”To the sea~ the sea of love”

Keith pressed his face into the crook of Shiro’s neck, resting his hands on his shoulders letting his eyes slip close as he lost himself too the rhythm of The music. Shiro in turn wrapped his arms around Keith’s torso and began to gently sway back and forth to the soft music.

“I wanna tell you~ how much, I love you”

Shiro began to softly sing along with the words, pressing his cheek to the top of Keith’s head, Keith could feel his eyes starting to get damp with the pure love and serenity of the moment.

“Do you remember~? When we met?”

Keith soon sang along with his husband, though his words were shaky from being a little choked up, and both of there voices were a little gravely because it was so early.

“Thats the day~ I knew you were mine”

Shiro could hear the teariness of Keith’s voice and it soon started too affect him as well, his own eyes growing moist with happy tears. They basked in the memory’s, in the love they held for each other. just swaying softly along with the rhythm. Holding onto each other tightly, soon one of Shiro’s hands reached up and gently took Keith’s from around his shoulders and laced there fingers as they continued to dance in their kitchen.

“I wanna tell you~ how much I love you”

Shiro kisses Keith’s forehead softly, small teardrops dripping down both their cheeks. He was so desperately in love with this man.

“come with me my love~to the sea, the sea of love”’

Keith sniffled softly, and there hands broke apart. Shiro’s hands fell too Keith’s cheeks and Keith’s mimicked him. They gently pressed there foreheads together, singing only soft enough for the other to hear.

“I wanna tell you~ how much I love you~”

They sang along together the last verse of the song, still pressed close, still swaying too the melody.

As the song ended, they continued too sway softly, the rest of the world disappearing around them. Keith’s thumbs gently brushed away Shiro’s tears, Shiro’s palms held Keith’s cheeks and they leaned together in synch their swaying slowing than coming too a stop. They were soon Gently pressing there lips together in a love filled kiss.

They held that kiss for a long time..it seemed like hours passed by the time they pulled away but at the same time it felt like that kiss hadn’t been nearly long enough.

They were still a breath away from each other, the bridge of their noses pressed together.

“I love you” they whispered in unison, the action making a soft smile creep onto both their faces.

They stayed like that for a while, holding onto each other, only a hairs breath away from melting into each other.

This was all they needed, they had each other.

Their love had gotten them through the toughest of times, and it would continue too support them through and through whatever life could throw at them; but here in this moment, where they danced in the kitchen, still wearing there pajamas nothing mattered.

All that mattered was the two heart beats that became one

❤️🖤

————

Thank you so much for reading this! It was kind of self indulgent but with all the craziness from season s6 and the wrecking ball that’s about too hit with s7 I needed to write a soft and tender fic too soothe my nerves. I totally think you should [Listen to “Sea of Love” by Cat Power|https://youtu.be/ilmApy6vFfo] it’s absolutely amazing! And I love all of the comments and likes I get on the stuff I write so don’t be shy! The art for the background and what’s below is done by [arrival-layne on tumblr|http://arrival-layne.tumblr.com/]. Thank you so much for reading this and I hope you have a wonderful day -❤️🖤

[wine-anon]

You’re Him Then - Jack Kelly Soulmate AU

Author's Note: just thought I'd write another little fic, get me some Jack Kelly goodness.

Requested: nope

Warnings: gets a lil’ steamy ngl but nothing explicit, like a single swear word

~~~~

A grey world was all you'd ever seen, since you could open your eyes there was nothing. Soulmates weren't a new thing to anyone, they'd been around since the beginning of time. When you met your soulmate the colours came and from all the books you'd read, it had been described as the most beautiful phenomena to happen in a person's life.

Your family was what you'd call 'middle-class', you aren't overtly wealthy but you had enough to get by and a little extra on the side. When you were six, your family moved to New York, to a little apartment in lower Manhattan. You'd made friends with the two boys next door, Les and Davey Jacobs, you attended school with Davey as you were the same age.

After Mr. Jacobs was laid off following an accident at work, Davey and Les stopped attending school and went out to find some work to bring in money for their family. Of course, your parents and you helped out in anyway possible. Including you bringing the boys, or specifically Davey, new books to read and homework to do. In return the boys told you everything they saw and did on the streets as newsboys, Newsies they said, everyday before supper time. Their life seemed so exciting, especially since they help start a strike and union to bring down the World and fight for fair pay. That's when they told you about Jack Kelly, the leader of said union.

"He's so cool, (y/n)," Les grinned up at you, "and he's a great artist. He painted these backdrops for Ms. Medda at the theatre and the colours he uses are incredible."

Les had found his soulmate earlier that week, a girl called Sally, and he seemed to bring it up at every moment possible just to annoy you and Davey. It was rare for someone of his age to have found their soulmate already; but it happened on occasion.

"That sounds wonderful, Les. He must be happy to have his soulmate," you said with a light smile on your face.

"That's the thing, (y/n)," Davey interrupted, "He doesn't have a soulmate, Ms. Medda said he's just got natural aptitude."

"Well, that makes him far more interesting. I'll have to meet this famous Jack Kelly soon, won't I?"

"Maybe you can visit tomorrow?" Les suggested.

"I've got school and some work to do with mum tomorrow," you sighed, you loved working with your mum but the bakery was really busy most days, "you could bring your friends around for a free little treat, I'll make those cupcakes you like so much?"

If Les wasn't already excited, he was practically busting now. You'd only ever seen him this excited a handful of time. The kid was over the moon most days but there was that rare occasion when he could have lost his mind.

"We'll be there tomorrow afternoon then," Davey smiled at you, "maybe around five?"

"I'll hold you to that, Davey."

You three talked for almost an hour more about a number of different things before they were called away for dinner. You went to sleep that night with a grin on your face, mind racing in anticipation for tomorrow.

~~~~

As soon as school had finished, you took off down the streets of Manhattan to get to your mother's bakery. She liked you to be punctual and school had run a bit overtime that day. You panicked when a bell rang from the clock further in town, it was five o'clock already.

Your legs ran faster, bag hitting your back and skirts rucked up to almost your knees. Heels were not fun to run in, no matter how comfortable they were, tripping was bound to happen.

Your lungs began to burn as you crossed the street towards the door of the bakery. It seemed far less busy than usual and a frown creased your forehead as you read the closed sign in the window. There was a group of people in the bakery, so why was it closed?

~ 15 minutes earlier ~

Davey had finally convinced Jack and the other Newsies to get some food at a different bakery than usual. It took a while for the Jacobs brothers to convince the Newsies to cross town just for a little bakery but after mentioning free cupcakes, the boys were rearing to go. They picked up Katherine on the way and left towards this special bakery.

From the outside, Sunny's Bakery was a cute boutique bakery, a large cart sat idle out the front, the bakery's name plastered on either side. A large group of people stood inside and out looking at the creations in the window. Cupcakes, biscuits, cakes and an array of breads sat in the windows and the Newsies' mouths began to water.

Davey led their group into the store, the bell above the door jingling lightly. A middle-aged woman stood behind the counter, frantically attending to each customer.

"Mrs. (y/l/n)!" Les called out to her, pushing through the people in his way.

"Les, dear," a soft smile spread over her flustered face, "you're early today. (y/n) is still at school, I thought she'd be back by now. Davey, be a dear and turn the sign on the door please."

Davey merely nodded before turning the sign to closed as the last few customers trickled out. The Newsies and Katherine watched as the Jacobs brothers interacted with Mrs. (y/l/n). Jack looked around at the inside of the bakery, small tables and chairs lined the walls and vine patterns on the walls. It was all grey, but if Medda's reactions if his paintings were anything to go by, then the colours of this little shop were beautiful too.

The Newsies began to move a group of tables and chairs together all the while being ushered by the owner of the bakery. Davey and Les laughing with her, they looked almost like family.

"So, how long do you think (y/n) will be? We really want them to meet our new friends," Les looked disappointed that this (y/n) wasn't here yet.

"I'm sure she's on her way now, she probably got held back at school," Mrs. (y/l/n) said, preparing plates of delightful looking treats.

"Oh, a goil huh?" Race and Romeo smirked at each other and then to Davey, "is she your goil, Davey?"

"No, Race. She's just our friend," Davey shook his head at the younger boy.

"Well, let's hope she's here soon then, huh?" Katherine eased the light tension between the boys.

The boys tucked in to the food your mum had prepared and joked about in the bakery.

~ Present ~

Your breath ran rugged as you all but crashed through the door of your mother's bakery. A dozen pairs of eyes stared at you. You scanned their faces, most unfamiliar to you. One face in particular caught your eyes and time seemed to stop completely.

As soon as you made eye contact with the eldest boy in the midst of all the faces looking at you, it was like a flood gate had opened. Colours burst through your surroundings. Light bounced off of colours you had dreamed of seeing for your while life. You couldn't seem to look away from the deep, crashing colours of the boys eyes. A storm of admiration and love flowed through them and you swore you'd never love another colour.

The boy, well almost man, stood up abruptly. The table moved forward and his chair fell back to the wooden floor of the bakery. Not once did he break eye contact as he moved toward you. You held your breath as he reached out to take your hand, the other pushing a loose hair behind your ear.

"Hi," he breathed out, almost a whisper.

"Hi," you returned, "you're him then?"

"Your soulmate? Or the famous Jack Kelly?" You both laughed and you reached up to brush the front of his hair off his face.

"Both, I suppose. You know when Les and Davey said they wanted to introduce me to the famous Jack Kelly and his beautiful paintings, I certainly wasn't expecting you."

"Is that a good thing?" he mumbled, nervous now.

"Most definitely," you tilted your head into his large hand. He smirked at you and leaned to peck your lips. You gripped his hand and reciprocated the kiss. Breaking away as cheers came from behind him and you peaked around his shoulder to see your mum laughing along with the Newsies and a girl. Katherine, you guessed.

Les handed a few pennies to Davey and you blushed as he winked at you.

"David Jacobs, you did not bet on me!"

Everyone laughed, Jack's body shaking causing you to look up at him. You smiled longingly at each other.

"Let me introduce you to the fellas," Jack turned around pulling you along. After introductions, you spent the afternoon sitting on Jack's knee, brushing the hair at the nape of his neck, the other gripped tightly in his hand. The colours of the world dimming as the sun set and Jack stood up, dragging you out of the bakery and into the street.

You followed him through the streets of Manhattan to the roof of the newsboys’ lodging house. Together you sat in his penthouse in the sky to watch the oranges and purples of the sun setting over the city. You watched enthralled as the water glistened. The view was breathtaking and you wouldn't have traded that moment for the world.

~~~~

Jack eventually walked you back home. You both talked the whole way back, getting to know each other. Conversation was so natural between you that it felt like you'd known each other forever.

When you reached the door of your home he hugged you tight and kissed your forehead, promising to take you to Ms. Medda's theatre in the morning. You grinned and kissed him before wishing him goodnight and entered your house. A lovestruck grin stayed on both of your faces as you waited for the morning.

~ Four Years Later ~

Almost four years after you met Jack, you'd bought a small apartment together with the money you saved from working at the bakery and him from working at the World with Pulitzer.

You frequently had the Newsies over and fed them a full meal every night. Crutchie was definitely one of your favourites, he was so kind to everyone and looked after the younger boys when Jack and you couldn't. He had gotten a job in the local flower shop, just down the street from the lodging house. After finding his soulmate a few years earlier he couldn't help himself from making beautiful bouquets that people loved.

You'd woken up to the smell of pancakes one morning. Opening your eyes you saw the bed next to you empty and sunlight breaking through the soft white curtains across the room. You softly rose out of the tangled sheets and padded your way to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. Jack's shirtless back faced you as he poured and flipped pancakes on the stove. He hummed a soft tune so you assumed he didn't know you were there yet. You crept closer to him and slid your arms around his waist, resting your head inbetween his shoulders. He jumped and dropped the spatula in his hand.

"Good mornin', sweetheart," you giggled and kissed his shoulder blade.

"Morning, Jacky," he spun around to grip your waist and kissed you softly. Smiling into the kiss as he pushed you against the counter opposite the stove.

You moaned as he ground his hip into yours. You parted for a moment to rest your forehead together.

"You weren't supposed to be awake yet, I was gonna bring ya' breakfast," kissing you hotly again.

"Well, we can always go back to bed," you panted into the kiss, Jack groaned.

"Mm, as much as I'd love that, sweetheart, I have a whole day planned for us today," you continued to tug him closer to you and he lifted you onto the countertop. Placing himself between your legs, brushing his hands up your thighs. Just as his hand crept up your nightdress, a burning smell reached your nose.

"Jack," you gasped, "the pancakes are burning."

“Shit,” he turned back and pushed the frypan off the hotplate and flipped the knob, stopping the gas. He turned back to you a sheepish smile on his face, “I guess I got carried away, didn’t I?”

A laugh burst from your lips and you shook your head at your soulmate. Your face flushed, hair a mess, and lips parted slightly, the light hit your body just right on the counter, you were breathtaking. His face suddenly switched to a serious one.

“What?” you asked him, a concerned smile on your face.

“I love you so much. More than anything in the world, more than any colour that I could see. I would give ‘em up in a moment to live the rest of my life with you,” your breath hitched, you’d been in love since that day in the bakery. Tears began to well in your eyes as he continued, “and I had this dream to run away to Santa Fe, to get out of this damn city. Then I look at you, with your messy bed hair and morning voice, and I don’t want to be anywhere that ain’t with you. You were made for me, since before I even knew you, and I don’t care what happens. I want you to be mine forever, I ain’t gonna find someone like you again. In a life that’s full of struggles and dullness, I never feel a dull moment with you. I got no use for moonlight or sappy poetry but I never planned on someone like you. I never thought I'd even meet you, especially not live this perfect life with you. What I’m sayin’ is, (y/n), will you marry me?”

Tears were pouring down your cheeks by this point, you could barely form words, let alone an answer to the most important question you’d ever been asked. Jack had just poured out his heart to you and it was like you were a seventeen year old girl all over again, staring at a boy in a crowded bakery. Colours faded this time, all you could see was his beautiful face and those green eyes you fell in love with years ago. You felt like you were on cloud nine, complete euphoria. 

“Jack, I,” your words caught in your throat. Jack tensed at what he thought was going to be rejection, “Jack I couldn't think of anything I’d love more than spending my life with you. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He lunged to wrap his arms around your waist, you were taller than him sitting on the counter so you kissed his unruly hair.

“I was scared you’d say no for a second there,” he laughed, both of you crying tears of happiness, “I was gonna ask you on our picnic later, but seeing you just sitting there... I couldn’t wait.”

“Im glad you didn't, my love.”

“God, I love you so much,” he looked up at you and kissed you again. He hummed softly, “maybe we should go back to bed, sugar.”

“I thought we had a full day planned, Jacky boy?” he picked you up as he carried you back to your small bedroom.

“Screw that, you're my future wife and I ain’t passing this moment up for a lousy picnic,” giggles bubbled from your lips as he lay you down on the bed before kissing you passionately.

“Happy anniversary, Mr. Kelly.”

“Happy anniversary, soon-to-be Mrs. Kelly.”

~~~~

Here’s another imagine for you, hope you enjoyed it. 

Remember requests are open.

[philsdrill]

Chapter 24: A Little Support

Fic Summary: “Everyone had a link with their soulmates, some could hear some of their partners thoughts, some had a tattoo that would appear with their partners name; for me, I knew when they got sick.” For a while Phil has thought that his soulmate might have an eating disorder and doesn’t expect to meet him in the restaurant where he works.

Genre: a lot of fluff, recovery, really fucking domestic, waiter!Phil

Warnings: eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, hospitals, panic attacks, references to past abuse, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, a lot of awkwardness, small amounts of smut. This is potentially triggering so for your own sake, please think twice about reading if anything this might affect you.

Disclaimer: I don’t have personal experience with eating disorders, but have done some research. If I have anything about them wrong, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll sort it out.

Word Count (for this part): 9.3k

[Uploads will be approximately every couple of weeks! (hopefully)]

A/N: So this is the longest chapter yet... I did contemplate splitting it up, but there wasn’t really a sensible place to do so, so you guys are in for a long one here. Also, this is the fastest I’ve got a chapter done since last July (its under two weeks, what!?), so I’m pretty impressed with myself there. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERPOST

<= Previous Chapter

Dan’s POV:

Finally, I was feeling like myself again. It had been a little over a week since I’d had my medication dose upped and I was finally free of the side effects. I’d felt pretty terrible at first, with headaches and nausea as my body adjusted to it, but now I could see it was worth it. I wasn’t feeling anxious, like at all. I felt a little like all my emotions had dulled down a little, the highs and lows all being squashed closer to the zero line, but I could deal with that.

Phil had been leaving me home alone now I was feeling better. After the night I’d been ill, he’d made sure that at least Louise was with me if he couldn’t be. It was only once I was free from the debilitating nausea that he accepted I was fine to be left alone. For Phil and I, it was hard to be apart when one of us wasn’t feeling well. We relied on each other, and although Louise was good at looking after me, no one could quite compare to Phil. I felt a strong need for him when I was sick and I knew he felt as strong a need to be with me.

Tonight, Phil was on the earlier shift from four-thirty until nine. I preferred when he worked at this time, as it meant I actually got to spend some time with him in the evening, rather than him rushing off after an early dinner and heading straight to bed when he got home.

Our relationship was in no way defined by sex, but I’d learnt that sleeping would be the only thing happening in our bed after the late shift. It didn’t bother me too much, but there were days I was horny and struggled to get off without Phil’s help.

I was looking forward to tonight, as Phil and I had had a little chat earlier about how I was feeling and if I’d be up for something later. With how good I’d been feeling yesterday and today, I was more than up for it and I let Phil know I’d do a little preparation while he was out.

My little bit of preparation consisted of making sure everything was clean down there and having a little stretch as it had been a while; I didn’t want that stage to take too long later. Although it did turn me on a little, I’d learnt to do it in a controlled manner and save myself for Phil.

I’d thought about using a butt plug, I sometimes did, but I decided today wasn’t the day for that; it might turn me on a bit too much. Instead I would just put up with the empty feeling and deal with the fact I might tighten up a bit again before Phil got home. I still had two hours, more like two and a half as Phil had decided to walk to work today.

I was making myself dinner, some pasta in one pot and some sauce in another. I didn’t have Phil’s level of culinary genius, but I could make a handful of edible things. Phil probably wouldn’t entirely approve of my lame attempt at a sauce, tinned chopped tomatoes and vegetable stock, but it was food and that was what mattered.

As I sat alone, with my rather unremarkable plate of pasta in front of me, it crossed my mind that I could just not eat and Phil wouldn’t know. However, I wasn’t going to do that; I could, but I was better than that now. I didn’t mind eating these days; there were a few unhealthy things I couldn’t deal with, but I could keep myself nourished.

I think Phil’s cooking was one of the best things to ever happen to me, because in the early days, the fact it tasted so fucking amazing actually helped me to get through a plateful of food. I wish Phil got to cook more often, as it made him happy, but with his work shifts, dinner was always rather rushed for him. There were nights like tonight when he had a sandwich before he left and might have another when he came home, but that wasn’t dinner, not by Phil’s standards.

His current job wasn’t really what he wanted to do with his life, I knew that. Phil wanted to become a chef, and maybe open a restaurant someday. I knew he’d attended a number of cooking classes and had a couple of qualifications under his belt, but he needed to get back into cooking school if he wanted to achieve his dreams. His last set of cooking classes had been last spring. He’d never enrolled in any after the summer as I’d formed a bit of a roadblock in his life, but now I was ready to encourage him to get back to where he needed to be.

I made a note in my phone to mention that to Phil. Things might very well get steamy quickly when he got home, so the note would remind me tomorrow, or when it was a better time to bring it up. He could probably still apply for something in the coming academic year, starting in September. I could get a job to pay the pills and Phil could work on his dream. At the moment, that seemed like the best thing to do. I was still to find my dream and that would give me the time I needed to think about it. I’d said before that I had an interest in video production, so I would keep that in mind, maybe help Phil with his cooking channel a bit more, as he sometimes got a little bored of the editing.

When I’d finished my pasta, I helped myself to a biscuit from some baking that Phil had done earlier in the week. Phil sometimes worried that I didn’t eat enough sugar so he would make biscuits and encourage me to eat them. I didn’t feel too bad with it only being one biscuit and sometimes I noticed I felt a bit more alive after eating them. At the moment, they were round shortbread like things with a chocolate swirl through them. Phil liked to experiment and would make different things every time.

I took my dishes from the table and cleared up around the kitchen, loading everything into the dishwasher, apart from a couple of pots and a wooden spoon that I’d have to wash by hand. I was about to fill the sink when my phone started ringing, blaring out its ringtone over on our dining table.

Moving my hand away from where it hovered over the tap, I rushed to the other room to pick it up. I wondered who it would be, as Phil was working, he wouldn’t call unless something was wrong. I guessed it might be my mum, or maybe my brother.

I was fairly close with my guess of brother. It was Ethan, his soulmate. I grabbed the phone and answered it, pulling it to my ear. I wondered if something was wrong; we’d been keeping in contact periodically by text and he’d only ever phoned me after texting first to check I wasn’t busy.

“Hi, Ethan,” I greeted him, not saying much to give him have the chance to talk.

“Dan, I need your help,” Ethan said, his voice trembling a little.

Immediately filled with concern, I asked him what was up, “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“I accidentally outed myself to my dad, like he found out my soulmates a guy,” Ethan rushed, “I’ve been kinda avoiding the topic recently but he made me talk and a.. a ‘he’ slipped out and I couldn’t do anything about it. He beat me up for a while and then kicked me out of the house. I ran away; I’ve got as far as the park with the duck pond but everything hurts and I can’t go any further.”

“Okay, I’m going to come and get you,” I said, doing my best to sound calm for him, as he sounded rather panicky.

“Try and take some deep breaths, keep your breathing slow,” I advised him, “I’m on my way.”

I hurried to get ready, grabbing my coat, keys, medication, Phil’s car keys and putting on a pair of shoes.

I kept talking to Ethan while I did this, “Phil’s at work but he walked so thankfully I have the car. It’s a yellow Corsa. I’ll be like five minutes, ten tops.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, mumbling a little.

“Okay, where are you in the park?” I asked him, as I shut the door to our flat and locked it.

“I’m by the railing on the high bit, where there’s the drop down to the pond,” he explained.

“Okay, d’you think you could move nearer the road or is that too much?” I asked, being careful as I didn’t want to ask him to do more than he was capable of.

“I don’t know if I can,” he said, groaning.

“Okay, don’t worry, I’ll come to you,” I told him, now halfway down the stairs.

“Thanks,” Ethan mumbled, “M so sorry…”

Ethan made a choking sound, cutting himself off. I couldn’t figure out what was happening for a second, until I heard some sniffling sounds. I think he was crying.

“I’m going to be with you really soon,” I said, leaving the apartment building and heading over to Phil’s car, “I’m outside heading to the car now.”

I unlocked the car and got in, dumping my coat on the passenger seat.

“Okay, I’m in the car, I’m going to have hang up now so I can drive, but I’ll see you in five,” I told him.

“Okay, see you soon,” Ethan choked out a reply, then hung up the phone.

I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat with my coat and started the engine, getting going as quickly as I could. I took the most direct route to the park, focusing on getting there quickly.

I parked outside the park in a layby, which at any other time of day would be full of cars. I pocketed my phone, put on my coat and got out of the car, locking it behind me. I hurried into the park, thankfully knowing where I was going. Phil and I had been here a handful of times on dates so I knew the place pretty well.

As I approached the area Ethan had described, I could see a figure sat, leaning against the railings. When I was a little bit closer and I could confirm it was him.

“Ethan,” I said, crouching down in front of him and starting to take in the various injuries he was sporting.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, weakly.

“It’s okay, honestly,” I said.

I could see very clearly that his left eye was a bit swollen and starting to develop a bruise. He was just in a t-shirt, with a number of bloody scratches on his arms and he was hunched up, looking in a lot of pain.

“Are your legs okay?” I asked, after taking in his other injuries.

Ethan nodded weakly, not making any effort to speak.

“If I give you a hand, d'you think you can walk back to the car with me?” I asked him, knowing that he didn’t feel up to walking that far five minutes ago.

Ethan nodded again, “Yeah… just chest, hurts to breathe.”

“Okay, keep doing your best, I won't make you talk too much,” I told him, “And we’ll go slowly.”

Realising how much he was shaking, I took off my coat and wrapped it around his shoulders, hoping that would block out some of the cold February air. I brought my hands under his arms and working with him, hoisted him to his feet. Once he was up, I brought my arm around him for a little support and we slowly starting heading in the direction of the car.

When we got there, I opened the passenger door and he got in with no problem. In the open doorway, I crouched next to him, deciding at this point, that I should check with him what all was hurting, in case it was the hospital we should be heading for instead of mine and Phil’s flat.

“Okay, is anything else hurt other than your face and your arms?” I asked.

“My chest… my dad punched me pretty hard there and then I ran and got really out of breath and…” he told me, pausing to cough.

“You don’t have asthma or anything, do you?” I asked, a bit concerned about his breathing.

“No,” he shook his head.

With him confirming that, I could put it down to panic over the situation as a whole, being kicked out his family home, “I think you're panicking a bit, yeah? That’s understandable.”

Ethan nodded, a few more tears leaking from his eyes.

I opened up the glove box in front of him and pulled out a packet of tissues. I made a quick trip to the boot, where we kept a packet of water bottles and grabbed him one.

Once he had dried his eyes a little with a tissue, I got him doing a basic breathing exercise to help him calm down a little. I encouraged him to take small sips of water if he felt like it, as that too might help him feel a little better.

After a couple of minutes, he was struggling less and I felt I could talk to him again, “So you probably have a bit of bruising on your chest?”

Ethan nodded, a little bit less weakly this time.

“It’s a five minute drive back to mine and Phil's place, you good to go?” I asked him.

“Okay,” he said, “Thank you.”

Closing the passenger door for Ethan, I made my way around to the other side and got in. I double-checked he was okay, and then set off.

On the one main road I took on the way home, we had a bit of a scare. A car speeded out of a side road and right across our path without looking. I had to slam the brakes on faster than I’d ever done in my life and let’s just say, thank fuck for the seatbelts.

Ethan cried out in pain, holding his hand to his chest. I felt panic rising in my throat instantly at what had been such a close call. I needed to pull over. Fifty metres ahead of us, there was a layby. I indicated and turned into it, so thankful there was somewhere we could stop.

“Are you okay?” I asked Ethan, the pain clear on his face.

“I’m fine, just the seatbelt tightened on my chest and it hurt a lot but it's okay now,” Ethan said, stumbling over his words a little.

“I am so glad you were wearing one; I never even thought to check,” I said, running my hand over my own chest and feeling my heart pounding beneath my skin.

“You don't mind if we stay here for a couple minutes?” I asked Ethan, pausing to take a couple of deep breaths, “I just… I feel a bit panicky and don't want to have a panic attack while driving.”

“That’s fine,” Ethan said, something I recognised as concern building on his face.

Focusing on my breathing for a minute, I managed to calm myself down a bit, but I could still feel my heart beating fast. I wasn’t quite having a panic attack, not with the tears and shaking, but I was close.

“Ethan, there’s a tub of pills in the left pocket of my coat, could you pass me them?” I asked, “And the bottle of water from the door pocket?”

Not asking any questions, Ethan passed me the tub of pills and my water. I downed my dose of pills quickly, knowing they would start working soon. I didn’t really give much thought to driving after taking them, but I knew it would be preferable to driving while having a panic attack.

I concentrated on my breathing for another minute and told myself that I’d done good, stopping so quickly. I managed to calm myself down pretty well and I could feel my medication working its magic on slowing down my heart rate. After a couple of minutes, I decided I was sufficiently calm to continue driving.

I started the car and checked all around me for cars coming from funny places, before setting off. I turned into a quieter road a minute later and took a different route home, avoiding the main road. A couple of minutes later, we turned into the flats’ car park and I let out a sigh of relief once I’d parked the car back in our space.

Apart from being a little shaken up, I felt okay, which was good as I needed to put my focus on looking after Ethan. I took the keys out the car, put them in my pocket and headed round to the other side. Ethan was already out, looking a little better than he had when we got in.

“I’m no longer out of breath from running,” he told me, “That was why I was struggling so much earlier.”

“Okay, I’m glad you’re feeling a little better,” I smiled, “Ready for four flights of stairs?”

Ethan didn’t look terribly enthused, but walked ahead of me anyway. I locked the car and caught up with him, wanting to stay by his side, even if he was okay to walk by himself now.

I made sure Ethan took the stairs slowly; I didn’t want him getting any more tired out. When we reached the second floor, I unlocked the door to our flat and encouraged him in ahead of me.

“Right, head for the sofa. I'm gonna grab our first aid stuff and I'll be with you in two minutes,” I told him, “Also, maybe send Adam a text and let him know you’re okay and that you’re with me. He’s probably in a lot of pain too and worried about you.”

I headed to the kitchen, where we kept most of the first aid stuff. Phil was a little accident prone and sometimes got his fingers by mistake instead of the carrots. I grabbed the plastic box that had a couple of varieties of plasters, some antiseptic stuff and a number of other things. I opened the freezer and took out the bag of frozen peas, a good ice pack that should help Ethan’s eye injury.

Thinking about Phil, I realised I should text him so he knew what was going on before he got home.

Ethan got beat up by his dad and kicked out. I have him home now and I’m about to help sort out his injuries. Nearly had a panic attack on the way back from getting him, but I’m okay - I’ll explain later

Returning my phone to my pocket, I wrapped the bag of peas in a tea towel and took it, with the first aid box, through to the living room, where Ethan was sat on a sofa, his phone in hand.

“I had three missed calls from Adam, but I’ve texted him now,” he said, “He’s not replied yet, should I be worried?”

“I’m sure our mum’ll be looking after him, but if he’s not replied in half an hour, I’ll call the home phone, okay,” I told him, nodding consolingly.

I sat down next to Ethan him and passed him the wrapped up bag of peas, “Frozen peas. Hold that to your eye and it’ll hopefully make the swelling less bad.”

Next, I got an antiseptic wipe and started to clean his arms. There were various scratches, but it looked less bad once I’d wiped the blood off. With the length of them, it would be difficult to put plasters on them, but they weren’t really too bad. My eyes moved over the scabs on his wrists, presumably those from a couple of weeks ago, before he met Adam. It struck me that they should probably have healed up by now, so maybe he was one for picking scabs.

I got Ethan to switch which arm he was holding the ice pack with so I could see his other wrist. Here I found another scratch from his Dad’s violence, which had flicked off parts of the scabs and left his wrist looking quite raw. This needed more attention.

I got a fresh wipe and cleaned it up. Ethan flinched when he realised where the scratch was and tried to pull his arm away.

“Ethan, I know about these, Adam was here when you made them,” I told him, “I’m not going to make you talk about it, but I’m going to make sure they’re all looked after.”

Rather disgruntled, Ethan gave me his arm back, refusing to meet my eye. I gently rubbed some antiseptic cream into this scratch, as it looked like it was maybe starting to septic. Ethan flinched again, but let me continue. I found a bandage to wrap around this wrist, as a plaster wouldn’t quite cut it.

“Ethan, I think we should maybe look at your chest,” I said to him, “Or at least you take at a look at it if you’d rather.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind if you see too,” he said, “It’s probably better to have a second opinion.”

Laying the frozen peas to the side for a minute, Ethan took his shirt off and lay back on the sofa, his eyes widening at the bruises starting to form on his chest. So far, they were just reddening blotches, with darker patches clearly made by the knuckles of his dad’s fist. He slowly ran his fingers over the injured skin and winced as they skimmed over the bruising.

It looked really painful and I wondered whether his dad could’ve had the strength to break his ribs. Most likely they were just bruised, but even if they were broken, they should heal by themselves. We would see how things progress.

“I’m going to get something else out the freezer for you to put on that,” I told him, “And d’you want some paracetamol?”

“That would be good, thanks,” Ethan replied, staring dejectedly down at his chest.

“Okay,” I said, getting up and heading for the kitchen.

I pulled another bag of frozen veg out of the freezer and found another tea towel to wrap it in so the cold wasn’t directly on his skin. I filled a glass with water from the sink and grabbed the box of paracetamol from where they sat in a clump of assorted medicines on the counter. Only moments later, I returned to Ethan with them, laying the cold bundle down on the table while I handed him the box of water and the paracetamol.

Once he took the tablets, I took the box back from him, something in my mind telling me I should maybe be wary about leaving them around. I knew he’d overdosed on something before, but I had no idea if he was likely to try it again. I handed him the second bag of frozen veg and took the paracetamol back to the kitchen, putting all the medication away in a cupboard out of sight.

I knew that realistically, he would get cold eventually, so I just said to Ethan to keep the ice on his injuries until he felt he couldn’t take it any more. In the end, he lasted about fifteen minutes, before he started shivering. I took the frozen vegetables off him and returned them to the freezer; they probably wouldn’t have defrosted too much.

Ethan was still shirtless in the living room, looking at his shirt miserably. As I approached him, I realised what the problem was. There was a bit of blood from his arms on the shirt and he probably didn’t fancy putting it back on.

“D’you want to borrow a t-shirt?” I asked him.

“Yeah, that would be good,” he said, “This one’s a little bit gross now.”

“Actually, it's nearly nine, d'you want to borrow some pyjamas?” I suggested, thinking he might as well put on what he was going to sleep in.

“I can stay over?” Ethan asked surprised, surprised.

“Of course,” I said, firmly, “You’re staying here for as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Ethan said, getting to his feet and hugging me, “So much… I don’t have anywhere else…”

Hearing from his voice that he was emotional, I hugged him for a little longer, letting him have the consolation he needed, “Okay, I’m going to get you some pyjamas and then I’ll phone my mum and see what’s happening with Adam.”

“Thanks,” he said, sniffling a little.

I left Ethan to find him some pyjamas, heading to mine and Phil’s room and rummaging around in my drawer. I had a particular pair in mind, which I think I’d only worn maybe once, but they didn’t fit me anymore. Ethan was a little smaller than me and I was guessing they would be about his size.

I took them to the lounge and handed them to Ethan, “These are pretty new, but they don’t fit me anymore. Phil and I’ll get you sorted out with a few things of your own in due course, but you’ll need to make do for tonight.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, still a little tearful, “I basically have nothing at the moment so…”

“They’re officially yours if you want,” I told him, with a gentle smile.

I let Ethan know he could go and get changed in the bathroom. In the meantime, I went to check over our spare bedroom and make sure it was ready for a guest. It was more or less good to go; Phil and I had put the sheets back on the bed after we’d washed them from Adam being here, so it was all set up and ready to go.  All I needed to do was move a couple of things that Phil and I had dumped in there to get them out of the way. There was one of Phil’s coats that he didn’t wear much, some cardboard boxes and packaging that should really be in the recycling and the hoover. I moved them all to our office, which we didn’t really use much and functioned mainly as a storage room. The guest room was now ready to go.

Ethan was still in the bathroom, which thankfully Phil cleaned after I threw up. I was trying to think of what other essentials he would need… a toothbrush and toothpaste. I took to mine and Phil’s ensuite bathroom and had a rummage through the cupboard. I’d had a feeling that we had a new toothbrush and toothpaste in there as spares for when ours needed replaced. I took them through and was just past the bathroom door, when Ethan emerged, now dressed in pyjamas and a little damp in the face.

With that, I realised he would need a towel to dry his face on. I handed him the toiletries and headed for the cupboard we kept towels in, “These are for you; I’m just gonna grab you a towel.”

Ethan took the towel I gave him and gently patted his face cry, avoiding the bruised area around his eye. He let out a sigh and folded the towel up to put it on the towel rail.

“Tired?” I asked him.

Ethan nodded, “I know it’s early, but I’ve had all my energy beaten out of me, literally.”

“D’you want some tea or coffee or something before we phone Adam?” I asked him.

“Tea would be good,” he mumbled, picking up his clothes from the floor and flicking off the bathroom light.

“What kind?” I asked, so used to having different tea depending on how I was feeling.

“Uhh… normal?” Ethan replied, clearly unsure of the other options, “With milk and sugar.”

“Okay, sure, I’ll get the kettle on,” I told him, “D’you want me to wash your clothes?”

“Could you?” Ethan said, “That would be great.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I said, taking the pile of clothes he was holding, “You go and take a seat in the living room. I’ll be in two minutes.”

I dumped Ethan’s clothes in a pile in front of the washing machine and put the kettle on to boil. I sorted his clothes; his underwear jeans and socks were all dark so those could go in together. His t-shirt would need a little more attention. Thankfully, I’d actually figured out how the washing machine here worked, so I got it started in no time. We had a bucket we kept under the sink for the odd thing we had to hand wash, so I filled it with cold water and a little stain remover and left the t-shirt to soak in it. I didn’t know if it would work, but it was the best I could do.

“Dan, can I use this blanket?” Ethan called from the living room, holding one of the blankets that just seemed to live on our sofa now.

“Yeah, of course, that’s what it’s for,” I replied, glad he had asked rather than sitting there being cold.

The kettle had only just boiled, perfect timing to make the tea. I made a cup for both of us, deciding that I could have some myself while the water was hot. I carried the two cups of tea through to the living room and set them down on the coffee table.

“It might need to cool a little, but there you go,” I said, “D’you want anything to eat? A biscuit or something? Wait, have you had dinner?”

“I’ve had dinner, yeah,” Ethan confirmed, “Well most of it. It kinda got cut short though, so a biscuit or something would be good.”

“Okay,” I said, hurrying to the kitchen and grabbing the box of biscuits Phil had made, “Phil made these. They’re really good; help yourself.”

“When’s he home?” Ethan asked, glancing at the clock, which showed it was a couple of minutes to nine.

“We’ll he’ll be finishing his shift in the next couple of minutes, so probably about half nine, as he needs to get his stuff from the back room and then walk home,” I explained.

I had just brought my phone out of my pocket to call my family’s home phone, when the screen lit up with Phil calling.

“Oh, Phil’s calling. I texted him with what happened, so he’s probably wanting to hear more,” I told Ethan, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it short so we can call my mum.”

I picked up the phone, “Hi Phil.”

“Dan. Right, I’ve just finished my shift; I’m through the back now getting my stuff and I’ll hurry home. Have you got everything under control? Have you been in contact with Adam?” Phil rushed, his speech a little unclear but I still got the message.

“Yeah, I’ve had the first aid kit and the frozen peas out and done what I can,” I explained, “I’ve given him some pyjamas, we’ve just sat down with some tea and we’re about to phone my parents. Adam hasn’t replied to the text Ethan sent him, but I’m sure I’ll be able to get through to my mum or dad.”

“Okay, well I won’t keep you,” Phil said, “I’ll see you soon… love you.”

“Love you Phil, bye,” I replied, pausing a second then ending the call.

As soon as I ended the call with Phil, I got started on the call home. I pressed the call button and held the phone to my ear. It rang a number of times and I thought it was about to ring out, when my Dad picked up.

“Dan, son, this isn’t really the best time. Adam’s in a lot of pain from his soulmate and he tried to call him maybe like an hour ago and he wouldn’t pick up. He’s gotten so worried, he’s having some kind of breakdown,” my dad told me, “Mum’s with him; she’s doing her best, but there’s not really much she can do.”

“Dad, Ethan called me for help and I have him here with me now. He's got a few injuries but he's okay, he's conscious and drinking a mug of tea,” I told him, “Let Adam know he’s okay and maybe get him on the phone so they can speak.”

“Oh thank God,” my dad said, “Right I’m going to tell him.”

I heard the squeak of my parents bedroom door and a bit of scuffling. I heard the voices of my parents distantly, then some more scuffling as the phone was handed over.

Adam sound very rough as he picked up, “Dan? You've got Ethan there?”

“Yup, he's a bit beaten up as I'm sure you know, but I've done what I can with the first aid kit, some ice and some painkillers,” I explained.

“Thank you so much for taking care of him,” Adam choked, “Can I speak to him?”

“Of course, I’ll pass you over right now,” I said, handing the phone to Ethan.

I watched as Ethan explained all what happened to Adam, it tearing my heart out to hear some of the details he hadn’t told me. I wished this hadn’t happened to him, but something told me that life would get better for him from here on in.

He talked to Adam about it for a while, constantly on the verge of tears and having to pause occasionally to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. I’d asked him if he wanted me to leave to give him some privacy, but it seemed having me by his side was giving him some of the support he needed.

About twenty past nine, I heard the door open and turned around to see Phil taking his coat off. He was a little red in the face, but then he was home ten minutes earlier than I’d expected; he must have rushed. Phil came over to where I was sitting, leant over the back of the sofa and messed up my hair. I’d more or less given up on stopping him from doing that; it didn’t really matter as we were at home.

Phil bent down to whisper in my ear, “I’m going to grab a glass of water and I’ll be back.”

Phil had started to leave for the kitchen when I called him back, “Phil.”

“Yeah?” Phil murmured, back behind the sofa.

“Go and get changed or take a shower or whatever you feel you need to do,” I suggested, “We’re doing okay here.”

Phil left for our room, with the suggestion that Ethan and Adam could move their conversation to Skype so that they could see each other.

This idea seeming a good one, I butted to Ethan and Adam’s conversation, “Ethan, tell Adam to get mum to Skype me… then you can see each other.”

Ethan passed on the message and I grabbed my laptop from the coffee table, opening up the Skype application. It was a couple of minutes before my mum came online, so the boys kept to the phone in the meantime, but soon enough me and my mum were ready to pass the laptops over.

I took my phone back from Ethan and continued my conversation with my mum. We had a couple of things to talk about, the most urgent being Ethan and Adam’s current situation. I went away to the office with the phone, so there wasn’t interference with the Skype call going on in the living room.

“I don’t think they should be apart,” I told her, “Like, yes he’s only been here an hour, but I can see Ethan’s not good. He’s holding together at the moment, but he needs Adam. I know he can’t make everything better in an instant, but the support of his soulmate is really what Ethan needs.”

“I agree; they need to be together,” my mum said, thoughtfully, “Adam’s not been doing much better over the last two weeks, since he came home from you. Yes, things have been better now that he knows Ethan and can talk to him, but it’s hurting him to not be with him.”

“Could you and Dad bring Adam up here?” I asked, “Or are you too busy with work?”

“I’ll speak to Dad about it,” she said, “I don’t really want to shove him on a train up alone in this state. Plus, Dad and I haven’t seen where you’re living yet, so we could make a little trip out of it.”

“Yeah, if you can get the time off, that would be an idea,” I told her, “Though you and Dad’ll need to stay in a hotel because Phil and I only have one spare bed and it’s now Ethan’s.”

“What about Adam? Do we want him sharing with Ethan?” she asked, “They might… you know…”

“Have sex?” I finished, brashly, “You can’t really stop them as they’ll both be old enough in a few days. Whether they would or not, I don’t know, but I doubt you’ll be able to separate them easily.”

“Would you mind, if they like did it in your spare room?” she asked.

“Not really,” I said, pausing to think about it, “Like clearly there’s some logistics to think about, such as Phil and I making sure they have privacy, but I don’t have any problem with it. I’ll maybe have a little chat with Adam once he’s here, see what he’s thinking, if he’s ready, if he’s kitted out to be safe when they do.”

“Are you and Phil… ummm…?” she started, trailing off, clearly unsure how to ask her question.

“Sexually active? Yes,” I answered briskly, although a little embarrassed, ”Safe? Well we’re both tested so we’re good.”

I could almost feel my mum turning red at the other end of the phone. I stayed quiet, waiting for her to say something, to acknowledge what I’d said.

“Dan, the reason I never gave you a sex talk is because I don’t really know how it works between guys, so I’m glad you figured that out yourself,” she admitted, “I haven’t given Adam one either, d’you think he’ll figure it out? Ethan probably won’t know either because his family didn’t know he…”

“Mum, I’m sure they’ll figure it out,” I interrupted her ramblings, “But I’ll talk to Adam and see if he needs any advice.”

“Thank you,” she said, sounding a little tearful.

“You alright, Mum?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she paused, sniffing, “Just getting a little emotional about both my boys being grown up.”

“You’ve still got two years before Adam’s eighteen, I wouldn’t get too emotional,” I said, trying to make things better.

“I know,” she said, now putting on a cheery voice, “I’m going to go and talk to your dad about how soon we can bring Adam up; I’ll phone back in five-ten minutes.”

I returned to the living room, to find Phil having taken my earlier spot on the sofa next to Ethan. He’d clearly had a quick shower as he was now sitting in his pyjamas with wet hair. As I approached he moved over to give me my space back. I settled between him and Ethan, and looked over at the laptop, where I could see my brother’s face. Now Ethan had told him all what had happened, the conversation was more spread between us. I asked Adam how he was doing and if he’d been managing to get on track again with school over the last couple of weeks.

“I’m getting there,” he told me, “Like there are bits I’ve missed, so mum and dad are thinking about getting me tutors over Easter to help me figure out what I’ve missed.”

This sparked a thought in Ethan’s mind and he added to the conversation, “I don’t even know if I’m going to be sitting my exams. I don’t really know, but my mum told the school a bit of what happened and I’m off ill until further notice. They were sending bits of work for me but I never really got much done…”

At this moment, my mum burst into the room at Adam’s end, “Right, Adam, Dan… I’ve spoken with Dad. He has the day off tomorrow and I can phone in with a family emergency and we can be up there by lunchtime. How does that sound?”

“That’s fine,” I nodded, watching the happiness build on Adam and Ethan’s faces.

Adam turned away to talk to my mum and next to me Ethan was getting a little emotional, smiling, but tears starting to roll down his cheeks. I asked Phil to grab the tissues and passed him a couple, putting an arm around him and trying to give him a little emotional support.

This was clearly what he needed, as Ethan took this as an invite and curled up, leaning into me, seeking a hug. I brought my arms around him and held him steady as he was overcome by a bout of sobbing. I could see Adam on the laptop, trying to get Ethan’s attention, but it wasn’t really working.

“Ethan,” I mumbled, “Adam’s saying you need to take a couple of deep breaths and try to calm down a little.”

Ethan, nodded, shakily inhaling and exhaling. The tears were still leaking from his eyes, but he was trying to regain control.

“M sorry,” he mumbled, both to me and to the laptop, “I’m really tired and everything’s a bit much, but I’m glad I’ll see you tomorrow, Adam.”

I could see how tired Ethan was and half of his crying was from pure emotional exhaustion. I was worried about him; I knew he needed to get to bed.

“I think you two should finish up for the night,” I suggested, looking to Ethan and to Adam.

Ethan nodded, “Yeah, if you don’t mind Adam.”

“That’s fine, of course,” Adam said, “I’ll let you get some sleep. I wish I could give you a hug, but that’ll need to wait until tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Ethan mumbled.

“Dan,” Adam started, “Thanks for taking care of him. Make sure he gets to sleep okay for me.”

“I will,” I nodded, not even needing to be told as some part of my family instinct was making sure I took care of Ethan; he was pretty much family after all.

Once the call had ended, I gave Ethan a couple of minutes to himself, then encouraged him up to go clean his teeth. I waited until he was in bed, then went to check up on him and ask if he needed anything.

“No, I'm good,” Ethan told me, but not sounding entirely convincing.

“Okay, goodnight then,” I said, slowly shutting the door; he probably just needed his space.

Only a moment after the door clicked shut, Ethan's voice sounded from inside, “Dan?”

“Yeah?” I asked, opening the door again.

“I'm scared,” Ethan admitted, his voice trembling a little.

“Of what…?” I asked gently, pulling the chair over neared the bed and taking a seat.

“My future,” Ethan told me, struggling a little to get the words out, “Because I've pretty much dropped out of school; I couldn't cope with it. I was in hospital at the start of the year and I haven't been back since. I'm pretty much off ill for mental health reasons until further notice, but I couldn't focus on any of the work that got sent home so I just gave up. I'm probably not going to sit my exams, 'cause if I did, I'd be bound to fail. So then what? I've got a handful of mediocre GSCE results under my belt that no one really wants. I'm not going to be able to go to uni, or get a job easily and I don't even have my family to support me. My thousand pounds in the bank isn't gonna get me far if I don’t even have my debit card.”

“Ethan, I know it's not the same as your parents, but you have Adam… and me and Phil, and my parents. We're your family too and we're all here to support you,” I said, resting my hand on the duvet that covered his back, “Clearly your situation with school is difficult, but we'll figure something out. We’ll talk about it with my parents, they'll know what to do.”

I sat with Ethan for a little bit to make sure he was okay. I knew Phil was waiting for me in the living room, but I knew he wouldn't mind. In fact, he'd probably insist one of us did exactly what I was doing.

I stayed until Ethan started to doze off, creeping quietly out the room. I'd done what I'd promised Adam and made sure he got to sleep okay. I'm sure everything would be better tomorrow once they were together.

--

I joined Phil in the living room and let him know that all was well. Clearly our plans for the evening had been thwarted a little, but there were no harsh feelings. Phil and I talked for a while about what all had happened, making sure he was fully informed about Ethan's injuries.

We gradually got ourselves ready for bed, it not really mattering if we were in bed early as we could just sit and chat comfortably.

Once we were in bed, I went over a few things with Phil. I told him about what happened earlier with the near miss with the car that sped out of a junction in front of us. At the time it had been terrifying, but with everything that had gone on since then, it was starting to fade into the back of my mind. Phil let me know how relieved he was that we were okay and congratulated me on handling my anxiety about the situation well.

“How are you feeling with what’s happened to Ethan? Seeing the outcome of another abusive relationship; is that affecting you at all?” Phil asked, a little cautiously.

“A little, yeah,” I nodded, “Like the bruises… I had bruises after… uhh… but I managed to focus on looking after him, but it’s reminding me of what happened to me and I don’t like it.”

Phil lifted me the short distance into his lap and made his arms a little more snug around me, “If it gets too much, let me know immediately. Though I suspect he’ll be looking more to Adam for support as of tomorrow.”

“I know,” I nodded, “It just hurts to see him this down and to know so well why he’s feeling that way.”

Phil nuzzled his face into his neck, “It might not be easy, but he’s going to be okay… and you’re going to be okay too.”

“We need to make sure he gets counselling or therapy or something soon,” I said, “Like we don’t know how much this is going to affect him in the long run.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” Phil said, grabbing his phone from the bedside table, “That’ll remind me to bring it up if we forget.”

“Good,” I smiled, resting my head on Phil’s shoulder.

I took a couple of deep breaths, inhaling some of Phil’s warmth. It was relaxing to be this close with him, but my body was still craving something more, a feeling of arousal still pooled silently in my abdomen from earlier in the afternoon. I wasn’t really sure what to do about it… could we still do something even though Ethan was here, or would that be too risky as he could overhear us? Not even realising, I let out a quiet groan, something Phil wouldn’t have heard if we hadn’t been so close.

“Dan?” Phil said softly, “You okay?”

Knowing I wouldn’t gain anything from keeping it from him, I let Phil know what the issue was, “I need to get off… or something.”

“Ahh,” Phil mumbled, “Did you stretch earlier ‘cause we were planning something?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, nodding, “Like I’ve been saving myself for you. I haven’t gotten off since we last did together.”

“Dan, that was over a week ago,” Phil said, shocked, “Even I’ve had a wank in the shower and I’m the old one here.”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t feeling up to it with all the medication side effects, but I’m good now,” I explained, “I did start a couple of times but got too tired before I could finish. Now I feel like I’m going to explode if I wait much longer.”

“You’re not going to explode,” Phil laughed, “We can still do something, but you’ll need to be fairly quiet. I’m thinking quite calm and not too rough; that’ll help you relax.”

“Sounds good,” I said, “How would you like me?”

“Stay where you are; this is good,” Phil told me, “I’m going to let you take a bit of control here and ride me. Does that sound okay?”

“Yup,” I nodded, starting to envisage how this was going to happen, “Good plan.”

Phil returned his head to the crook of my neck, nuzzling his face in again but this time starting with some kisses. By now, Phil knew exactly where my sensitive spots were, probably better than I did. Phil worked slowly from my neck to my jaw, then up to my mouth, meanwhile slipping his hand under the bottom of my t-shirt and caressing the skin of my lower back.

Kissing me deeply, Phil slipped his hand round to my chest, firmly rubbing over my nipple. Suddenly feeling the need for more, I brought my chest closer to Phil’s, craving that closeness. He put his hand out to stop me; for a moment I felt a sense of rejection, that was until he slid both hands under my shirt and lifted it over my head. Phil’s shirt followed and finally I got the closeness I desired.

The warm mass of Phil’s chest pressed up against mine made me feel all bubbly inside. I don’t know if that stemmed from it having been so long since we had this level of intimacy, or just the fact I was so turned on already, starting to feel myself growing hard.

Keeping one hand on my back to keep me close, Phil reached his other down between us and began to touch me through my boxers. It didn’t take long for me to be thrusting into Phil’s palm, fully hard and ready for more. He too had a tent growing in his pyjama bottoms. With both selfish desire and a wish to turn Phil on further, I shuffled forward a little and ground down against him. He had to bite his lip and breathe out loudly to suppress a moan.

--

Phil’s POV:

Dan was slowly killing me with the way he was moving and I was struggling to keep things together. There came a moment when Dan paused and I decided it was time to put the attention back on him. I helped him out of his boxers, licked a couple of my fingers and rubbed them gently over his entrance. I didn’t do it, not without lube, but I felt how easy it would be to just slip them in.

Getting Dan to lift himself up for a moment, I pulled my pyjama bottoms down to my knees and reached out for the lube. Moments later, he settled back on my lap, his length positioned perfectly to have a swordfight with mine. I lubed up my fingers and got started with a little stretching. I could tell Dan had done a lot himself earlier, but the last thing I wanted was to be rough on him when he was a little emotionally sensitive.

I had to shush Dan a couple of times when my fingers brushed his sweet spot. I decided to reduce the distance that had grown between our upper bodies, one for the change in angle, and two so I could capture his mouth in a kiss to keep him quiet. Dan’s moans now muffled themselves in my mouth, a great outcome meaning that I could hear him but we were still being quiet enough.

With Dan’s needy moans and my straining length, I decided it was time we actually got down to doing it. First coating myself in some lube, I lifted Dan up, hands gripping his bumcheeks, and helped him sink slowly onto me. Of course, we started slowly, but today we kept the speed a bit slower, more controlled.

I kept my hands on Dan, supporting some of his weight to make things easier for him, but still letting him have the majority of the control. The sensual experience of his pleasure and movements was doing it for me and Dan seemed to be getting just what he needed out of it. He was rolling his hips and moaning into my mouth and everything that was making him feel good was making me feel ecstatic also.

By no means did this turn out to be a quick fuck; it took us a while to reach a state of orgasm, but it was completely worth it.

“M close,” Dan mumbled me a warning, bouncing a little faster and working his hand up and down himself.

I let my hand join Dan’s for the final few strokes, giving him a little bit extra to help him get over the edge. Dan’s orgasm started with him tightening around me, then the spurts of white started to decorate our hands and chests.

Having Dan orgasm around me was enough to get me there too. We pretty much rode out our orgasms together, although Dan’s lasted longer and was a lot more intense, him trembling and shaking as he came, doing his best to stay quiet.

Despite starting to feel a little overstimulated, I let Dan continue to ride me until he was finished. Spent, he pulled himself off me and returned to just sitting on my thighs, my hands still on his bum to hold him as he came down from his intense high. He was still trembling slightly, letting out little pants and holding onto me tightly.

For a minute we just sat there, both of us needing the time to recover. Dan seemed a lot more drained of energy than I was; I couldn’t see him getting up to get himself cleaned up.

“I’m going to go grab a washcloth and I’ll help you get cleaned up,” I told him, forcing him to move a little so I could get out from underneath him.

I headed into our ensuite, grabbed a washcloth from the side of the bath - one that had likely been used for similar purposes before but washed since - and ran it under the hot tap. I waited until the water had made it pleasantly warm, before turning the tap off and wringing it out so it wouldn’t drip everywhere.

I gently wiped down where Dan had come on himself, not wanting him to be uncomfortably sticky in his sleep. Before getting into bed next to him, I wiped some similarly sticky areas on myself and tossed the cloth to the side of the room, into a pile of clothes for washing.

I put my pyjama bottoms back on so I wasn't completely naked and got into bed with Dan. I asked him if he wanted any of his pyjamas back on, but he just refused sleepily and cuddled up to my side. I made sure the duvet was covering him well, wished him goodnight and held him close as we both drifted off to sleep.

Next Chapter =>

[shsummertimefest-blog]

Enjoy, @binlar-lover!

I really hope you enjoy this fic, as this was my first soul mate AU to write! I may have taken liberties with the soulmate concept but if you have questions feel free to ask. I enjoy writing this and I hope you like it!

Clary knew she should probably just talk to him. Every day, she saw him walk into the studio, every day she watched as he admired the paintings on the walls, stopping to tilt his head every so often. Strands of blond hair would fall in his face, and Clary would find herself blushing at the thought of wanting to push them back, wanting to ruffle his hair and maybe explain the difference between Van Gogh and Picasso if he asked.

She knew he wouldn't ask, because she would never work up the courage to talk to him. The gallery was one of her favorite places to be, filled with her mom's work and some of Luke's attempts at pottery- multiple people had actually considered them to be "true art" (whatever that meant), but the pieces always stayed, an ugly mug next to a bright yellow canvas, a contrast of two working as one. Clary watched as the boy eyed one of the mugs curiously, tugging on the cuff of his sleeve as he bent down to get a better look.

His hair was in his face again as he worried his lower lip. He was only a few feet away, Clary figured, it should be easy to talk to him. Maybe tell him she liked the color of his sweater or that his shoe was untied. Clary stole a look at his feet- plain black sneakers, but no untied laces in sight. The boy moved around the podium, trying to get every angle of Luke's horrific mug in, as if he was trying to pan-sear it into his brain like a steak and vegetables in oil.

Gulping, Clary checked her watch. Five o' clock- the gallery would be closing. She'd have to go home.

Maybe she'd call Magnus and ask for advice. He always knew what to do when it came to crushes.

Her mother, Jocelyn, once explained soulmates to her, back when she was a little girl, still wanting to hear stories of whimsy and magic and all things unicorns. So Jocelyn would oblige, making sure to spin the most fantastical tale possible it would send Clary into fits of giggles and dreams full of dragons and rainbows and handsome princes.

"If you meet them multiple times, in the same place, then it's meant to be," Jocelyn said one night.

"But what if I don't feel it?" Clary asked, "Shouldn't I feel something?"

Jocelyn smiled, "The feeling is the best part."

At this, Clary would often tilt her head, frowning as her mother tucked her in, asking fervently, "But how will I know? Like you and Luke?"

"Trust me, darling," Jocelyn said every time, "You'll know."

Looking back on that conversation, Clary knew it probably wasn't the best explanation to give at the time. Jocelyn and Luke had just clicked, and it hadn't even occurred to Clary they were soulmates until they sat her down and explained it. The talk then was awkward, but Clary thought she now understood what her mother was trying to say. Sitting in Magnus's living room now drinking tea, he had the same message.

"When I met Alec," Magnus said, "It was like fireworks. You know the rush you get from being on a roller coaster?"

Clary grinned, "Yeah, I guess? I was never one for roller coasters." The mug was warm in her hands, steam wafting up to tickle her nose.

Magnus rolled his eyes, "You Frays were never roller coaster people, I know. But you know what I'm talking about? Meeting your soulmate is like that."

Clary set down her mug, ignoring Magnus's disdain at her not using a coaster. Really, it was his fault for having such an expensive glass coffee table; a table was used to have things on it, why would they need to protect it? They were sturdy things, and she expected every table to support her cups and plates fully. The tea swirled in her cup, the ceramic making a creak as she slid it against the glass.

"So does it feel like fireworks or a roller coaster?" Clary asked, "Because when I asked Alec he said it felt tripping over his own two feet along with wanting to puke as he fell down three flights of stairs."

Magnus scoffed, running a hand through his hair. It was a habit Clary had noticed, and whenever she third-wheeled their dates, Magnus liked to run his hands through Alec's hair too. He picked up his own mug, taking a loud sip, "Doesn't matter how it felt to me, biscuit. You'll know when the time comes."

Clary pursed her lips. She was starting to really not like that phrase. It meant waiting. And the longer she waited, the more time she had to think; the blond boy at the gallery could only occupy so much of her brain, but he really was gorgeous, with his high cheekbones and floppy hair and full lips. Was this what it was like to have a soulmate? Thinking about them nonstop? She asked Magnus, who grinned behind his mug. Her own tea was getting cold, steam no longer rising from it.

"You think you saw him?" Magnus asked.

"I think so?" Clary said, "I mean, I see him at the gallery a lot and he always looks at Luke's mugs-"

"Those should not even be considered mugs, more like ancient artifacts," Magnus muttered.

"-and I think he is my soulmate, you know?" Clary finished, "Like I feel kinda.... weird, if that's the right word? Like your roller coaster thing, y' know?"

Of course, Magnus did know. He went on to regale Clary with the story of how he met Alec, how he swept that tall black haired boy off his feet and how it felt like the fourth of July all over again.

Clary drank the rest of her tea, the mug now cool against her fingers. The bag inside was soggy.

The boy finally came up to her the next week.

Clary had been fidgeting with one of her mother's paintings, as the curator had hung it crooked in the frame. The sign said not to touch the artwork, but seeing as it was her mother's gallery, she couldn't help it, leaning over just enough to not touch the velvet ropes and being able to grip the corners with her fingers to tilt it just ever so slightly to the left.

"Do I need to call security for theft?"

Clary yelped, jumping back as a voice chuckled. Face burning, she whirled around, ready to snap at whoever it was that scared her-

Only to falter at the bright smile of the same blond boy she had seen at the gallery for the past month. He was wearing a black t-shirt, and Clary noticed ink sneaking out onto his arms. He ran a hand through his hair, his smile turning even brighter as Clary just stared, wide-eyed. She probably looked like a deer in the headlights, she stood there for so long.

"Are you okay?" the boy chuckled, "You almost took quite a nasty spill there."

Clary tugged at the ends of her hair, managing to squeak, "I-I just- it was my mother's painting and it w-was crooked-!"

He held a hand up in mock defense, "No worries, I won't report you to the authorities. I don't think they have the time to deal with red haired art thieves."

Clary grinned, her laugh sounding more like a bark- of course, she couldn't have one of those cutesy quiet laughs, no she had to sound like the horn of a freight car about to sneeze. Her face was probably as red as her hair, but here he was, right in front of her. Talking to her as if they were already acquaintances, as if they were the only people in the gallery.

(To be fair, Clary really was the only other person who came to the gallery very often.)

The boy broke through Clary's train of thought, "I've seen you around here, y' know."

Clary scoffed, "I mean, my mom owns the gallery. I'm always here."

The boy ducked his head, turning to Jocelyn's painting. The frame was now more crooked than before, the velvet rope lying on the floor from Clary's almost-fall.

"I like to think this one is about soulmates."

Clary blinked. "What?"

"The painting," the boy said, "the way the dark and light colors mix, despite the obvious clashes. It describes soulmates pretty well, wouldn't you say?"

Clary nodded, "I watched my mom paint this one. I didn't think it was much at first, and to be honest, I'm not a fan of the colors."

The boy didn't say anything, keeping his gaze thoughtfully on the piece. Stealing a glance, Clary had time to really look at him now; his cheekbones were sharp and angled, his lips a pretty pink. Streaks of brown peppered his blond hair and it took her a few seconds, but his eyes were two different colors- one blue, the other brown, with blue seeping in to meld at the pupil. She couldn't remember the term, but they were pretty.

"Like your eyes?" Clary suddenly blurted, clapping a hand over her mouth as he looked at her.

"My eyes?" he asked, "What about them?"

Crap. She was in deep shit now. Wracking her brain, Clary found herself stumbling over her words, "I-I mean, your one eye, it's blue and the other is a mix of blue and brown, and since you were talking about the painting reminding you of soulmates, and let's be real I've seen you in here everyday for the past month or so-"

Oh, Clary wished a god would smite her where she stood. Why was she still talking? She was going to embarrass herself, and he would think she was weird and creepy-

What if he already thought that?

Clary bit her lip, letting her rambling trail off. The look on the boy's face was one she couldn't decipher, although it was easy to pick confusion from the bunch.

"Despite the fact that what you just said is slightly weird," the boy chuckled, raisin an eyebrow, "What I'm about to say might be a bit weirder."

Clary tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "It can't be that bad. I just made myself look like a weird stalker like, twice now."

"What's your name?" he asked, "Just so I don't have to call you Weird Stalker Girl."

Clary giggled, "Clary Fray."

The boy grinned, "A pretty name for a pretty girl. Well, Clary, I'm Jace, and- I can't believe I'm saying this- I'm your soulmate."

Suddenly, Clary knew what Magnus was talking about. A deep feeling in her gut- almost like she was going to puke, but not really. It traveled up her body, and for a second, she thought she might actually be sick, but puke never came. She heard it. She heard what Magnus was talking about. Instead of a roller coaster, however, or fireworks popping in the night sky, she heard clear notes, cellos and violins and a piano all at once, all harmonious as the realization dawned on her.

Clary heard a symphony when she finally talked to her soulmate. And Jace gave her that symphony.