#soulmate au request

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Can I pretty please request a soulmate AU for this prompt: you have a meter/rating on your body that tells you how dangerous your soulmate is

With the character being Thomas Hewitt??

🥺🙏🏻

Tommy's got his soulmate

Thomas Hewitt x reader

Gender neutral reader

Warnings: mentions of reader being an outcast, slight angst with a fluffy ending, mentions of the smell of cigarette/ weed smoke.

The faint smell of smoke and cheap incense lingered inside the rather dated van as you sat in the back. Soft chattering over the humming of a local radio station made the ride through the desolate Texas road rather calming.

You and your friends were doing a cross country road trip for your final summer vacation for your university years. Friends was a rather long stretch for your relationship with them, yet it could be worse.

On everyone's right wrist was a 1 to 10 meter that showed how dangerous your soulmate was, beeping when you get close to your soulmate. While everyone you know had ones and twos with the occasional three rating, you've always had the rating of ten.

Your soulmate was simply dangerous. The only saving grace was the fact that it never beeped- never actually meeting them before. There were times when you wondered if your soulmate was in prison or in some rather seedy situations, making you more reluctant on meeting them.

Although your parents tried to soothe your worries by saying that you will be safe with your soulmate even though whomever they are is obviously an dangerous person, you can still tell that they were scared for your future.

You tried hiding your meter from your peers but they all end up finding out the truth. If it wasn't the looks of pity, it was the quiet whispers everywhere you walked. It was a sad reality for you to be shunned for what fate or whatever Deity that chose this for you.

"Damnit Henry, you didn't fill the tank up!?"

Mark yelled at his friend as the empty gas light comes on. Amy and Maxine groaned with irritations as you looked up, seeing a sign for a service station a mile away. You spoke up over the arguing young men.

"Guys, there's a service station a mile away if we take this turn. If you two stop arguing like an old married couple, we might be able to make it before we're all fucked."

The men quickly shut up, somewhat intimidated by the simple fact that you were fated to be with a highly dangerous person. The women giggled at the last part, looking away from their magazines.

"How are you able to intimate those two so easily? They stopped fighting right when you spoke."

Maxine asked, looking at you with her doe like soft eyes. You gave an anxious smile as you hear Amy laughed at the other woman's innocence to your situation.

"Well Maxine, there's a reason why you've never seen my meter... I don't like showing it...."

You started to speak, your left hand moving over to rub the covered meter on your right hand. Amy interrupted you.

"Their soulmate rating is a ten, worst anyone could get. Their soulmate is is a fucking monster, Maxine. The boys are scared of how potentially dangerous they will be given their soulmate."

Before there was a chance for you or Maxine to speak, the van was parked next to a gas pump in front of the rather old service station. You opted to get out of the van and get some coffee from the station while Mark gets out to fill the van. Henry, Amy, and Maxine decided to follow you inside for a snack run.

You walked towards the coffee pots, filling a cup with the hot liquid. A quiet beep came from your meter as you heard a softer beep from a short distance. The gas station owner, an older woman stared at you with interest as the beeping becomes faster and louder.

Anxiety flows through your veins as you stood still- as if you were a deer in headlights. Heavy footsteps grew closer to you as the beeping for both yours and your soulmstes meters became apparent to your friend group and the the older lady as the door from the back exit of the building open.

Actually meeting your soulmate wasn't a thing that you've ever thought would happen within your life. The hurricane of thoughts made you not notice the audible gasp come from the older lady's lips.

The first thing you noticed was how much larger the man was. Your wide eyes looked up at him as he stared at you. Time froze as you took in every detail of your soulmate; from the way his curly brown hair clings to his large neck, the leather mouth piece that covers his mouth, all the way to how he has a farmers tan on his face and arms.

The logical side of you was screaming to run away as fast as you could because of how dangerous your meter says he is. Yet, you felt a sense of safety and acceptance coming from the much larger man. A older feminine voice brought the both of you back to reality.

"It appears that you're my son, Tommy's soulmate.."

A look of approval was shown on her face as she gave you a motherly hug. You accepted the hug from her as Tommy watches you.

"I'm Luda Mae, but please call me mama."

She continued as you heard tires screeched outside. Looking towards the windows, you saw your friend's van speed away from the gas station. Your eyes widened in shock as they left you alone with only your wallet. Luda quickly goes to the wall phone, calling what seemed to be the sheriff. You didn't pay attention to what was said as the two of you embraced each other, knowing that you have each other now.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Go Heavy on the Red

ALASTOR x (F) READER

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

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

For the lovely @anon-of-the-void

Requests are OPEN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, hello.”

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

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

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

“Umm..new to what exactly?”

“Oh, this…this is Hell. You…died?”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Going heavy on the red, huh?”

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

“New to the whole being dead thing my dear” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[plussizefantasia]

Unsure Hearts

Read Part One Here: Fluttering Hearts

Warnings: Reader gets grabbed, alcohol, I think that's it tbh

an: heyyyy... sorry I was MIA, lots of stuff going on I'll post an update about it soon. In the meantime enjoy part two of the Kili x reader fic from Flufftober. I think this will be a five-part fic including an epilogue and the next two parts are already underway. I've also got some requests ready to be edited and posted soon. Thank you for bearing with me, much love <3

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Thorin was getting worried, Kili had become somewhat of a ghost story over the past month. He had assumed that his nephew was simply doing his duty. Kili had volunteered to be the envoy between Dale and Erebor for the discussions of armament and training. However, that treaty was signed a week ago, and said envoy position was no longer needed. So why in all of Arda was Kili still going to Dale every day? The young prince left as soon as he was finished with his daily tasks and didn’t return to the mountain until well after the sun had set. Thorin was not worried for his nephew's safety, after all, Kili was an excellent warrior and could take care of himself, no, Thorin was worried for Kili’s heart. 

Fili had also noticed his brother’s absence but the blonde prince had always been a bit more perceptive than his surly uncle. Fili had noticed that Kili was missing, but he also noticed that every time he returned to the mountain it was with the most dopey grin that he had ever seen. A grin that he recognized, for it had also graced his face a few months ago when he met his beloved Alma. Fili would bet his beard on it, Kili was in love.

You on the other hand were getting more and more annoyed each time the brown-haired dwarf walked through the front door. He was charming sure, and polite. But he stared. At you. The whole time he was there. And he was there a lot. His attempts to engage you in conversation were far and few between, the few times he was able to grab your attention away from the bustling building he became tongue-tied the moment your eyes landed on his.

Kili didn’t understand why he couldn’t say more than a few words to you without choking on his words. Your eyes had to hold some kind of spell within them. They enchanted him and left him bewitched every time he caught their gaze. It left him frustrated, he had never had this much trouble with women before, why were you so different? Deep down he knew though, you weren’t just any woman. He was afraid though, afraid that naming what you were to him out loud would make it real. And when it is real, it can hurt you. 

There weren’t very many stories on One’s where the love didn’t end up requited, either because it just simply never happened. Dwarves were incredibly stubborn creatures after all, and it was entirely possible that they just wore down their other half until some sort of connection formed. It was also possible that those unfortunate few who weren’t able to woo their other half died of broken hearts. The former was unlikely as Kili kept having to remind himself, he couldn’t die of a broken heart. Right?

He was determined tonight though, to find out definitively if the sparks he felt for you were just interest in the handsome woman from Bree, or if you truly were the other half of his soul. To do that though he would need to say more than a few words to you. The problem with that was that you seemed exceptionally busy tonight.

Busy you were, Brant had told you last night that he was going to be leaving today to go to visit family for some type of emergency. 

“If the place is still standing when I get back, we’ll talk more about it becoming yours someday.” He had said. You were hoping that that ‘someday’ was sooner rather than later. Brant was getting up there in years. Just last week he had hurt himself trying to lift one of the barrels of ale that had been shipped in from the Iron Hills. You had been taking on more and more of his old tasks and to be completely honest, it felt like you did the job of an owner anyway, just without all the benefits.

You weren’t going to let the man down though, even if it did mean rushing back and forth all night trying to keep up with demand all by yourself.

“Another! Y/N,” was yelled in front the back of the room. Roland was a boisterous man who got along with everyone, he was only a year or two older than you and was currently on his eighth pint of the night. He had a large countenance and seemed to fill up whatever space he occupied, he was handsome but the more and more he drank the less his looks mattered. Usually, this is the point in the night where he starts bordering more on unruly rather than fun-loving. Nevertheless, he was a paying customer and as long as he could still walk on his own out the doors, you weren’t going to say no to his money.

You grabbed another pint glass and poured one for him, balancing it and several other drinks on a tray. You steeled yourself with a deep breath before running back out into the fray. 

Walking close to the stool he was sat on you leaned slightly over him and placed his pint down on the counter beside him. He was engrossed in the conversation between the large group of men, something about the best way to skin a buck, you weren’t really listening. As you grabbed his empty glass to take back to the kitchen to be washed, his large hand encircled your wrist none too gently.

“A pint is a wonderful thing, but it is even more delicious when served by a beautiful lady,” He whispered into your ear. You grit your teeth and roughly pull your hand back. 

“Now, Roland, what have we said about touching things that don’t belong to you? Huh? Touch the wrong thing and you might just lose your hand.” You spit back at him. Cutting your eyes up at the mounted swords that rest above the fireplace only a few steps from where the two of you are. “I’d hate to have to clean those swords, they are sharp.” You look back into his eyes, satisfied with the fear that you see within them. You stand back up and place your tray back upon your shoulder. 

“Anything else I can get you gents?” You question the other men scattered about the space. Silence reigned over the air for a few moments. 

“Alrighty then.” 

A pint here, a glass of wine there, and two hot meals delivered later, your tray was empty and everyone in the place seemed momentarily satisfied. 

 Letting out a breath you lean up against the counter.

“What did you say to him?” A somewhat familiar voice pipes up beside you. You turn your head towards the voice. It's the dwarf prince, and you are once again struck with just how handsome he is. You are also struck with the familiar feeling of annoyance, of course, he picked now to talk to you. Just when you had finally afforded yourself a break.

“Hmm?” You raise a singular eyebrow at him. “Who?”

“That large and very drunk man in the back, I couldn’t hear what you said but I could see the look on his face. It was similar to my brother’s when our mother would scold him for forgetting his manners.”

“That’s not too far off actually, Roland over there got a little too comfortable and touched something that didn’t belong to him, I had to remind him of the rules.”

“And what exactly did he touch that was so forbidden?” The prince smirks and laughs.

You smirk back and lift a glass to your lips before uttering one single word, “Me.”

All of the laughter drained from Kili’s face, “He touched you?” His voice had gotten much lower, his eyes darkened right before you.

 You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to stop you right there Your Highness, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t need some man, no matter how handsome he is coming to defend my honor every time I’m even remotely slighted. The trail of bodies will get far too long.” You stare into his eyes as you speak, putting all the righteous fury you’ve got stored inside into each word. 

Seconds tick by before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think that we have bigger problems if that is the only thing you got from that.” You took another sip.

“No, no, no I got the point, you don’t need a big strong man to come to your rescue. Lucky for you, I am not big.”

The laugh that sprung from the back of your throat caught you off guard, you slap a hand over your mouth in an impossible effort to catch it and shove it back inside. He was funny, he had never been funny before.

Kili liked your laugh even though it was closer to a snort than an actual laugh, and he would be foolish to ignore the way his heart picked up at the thought that he was the one who made you laugh.

“You- I- I have never heard of a dwarf who makes fun of themselves, in my limited experience your lot are very prideful.”

“Not as prideful as some other races, I should think.”

“No, you’re not nearly as prideful as the pointy-eared bastards who hole themselves up in that accursed forest.” Your words held a healthy amount of rage as well as teasing.

“I sense that there is a story there somewhere.” Kili raised an eyebrow, mimicking your face from earlier. He was desperately trying not to think about the fact that this was the longest conversation the two of you had had up to date.

“One that I’m going to need a lot more liquid courage before divulging, I’m afraid.”

“We can make that happen.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows and pointed at the bottles of liquor behind the bar that separated the two of you.

At that very moment, a shout from the rowdy bunch of men in the back rang out, calling for another round.

“Duty calls your highness, but perhaps I will tell you that story… another time.” You winked at him and grabbed for your tray again, beginning to load it up once more. If that is how conversations with the dwarf prince went all the time, you wouldn’t mind having them more often.  

You walked away before Kili could come up with a response, but he was more certain than he ever had been that your heart called to his. Why else would the very sight of you walking away feel like his heart was leaving too?

tags: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! I've spent hours reading your Steddie stuff when I honestly should have been sleeping because work and adulting. Gotta be some of my favorite writing! You have requests/prompts open? I have 2! If you like them :) 1. The Soulmate idea of people having a moving animal tattoo representing their Soulmate. Steve has hyperactive bat who loves to drape itself around his neck quite possessively. Eddie with a retriever pup or something that likes to curl up over his heart. 2. Always a sweetheart Steve? No King Steve era thing. He bugs Eddie to learn about D&D to understand his kids better qnd our poor metal gremlin melts :) I'm Soft Boi, so sorry for no angst.

I'm posting the 1st one here, but on the second one, I am gonna just give a rec instead. Last Man Standing by @griefabyss69 (GriefAbyss on AO3) is kind of this request but taking it to filth level 😈 But anyways, this idea is so fucking cool my dudes. I love a good soulmate AU, and when it's something super unique like this, I lose my shit. I definitely think someone could make a slow burn with this idea and if anyone does, please let me know! - Mickala ❤️

---------------------------------------------------------

He used to hate it.

A bat was such a menacing and disgusting creature.

Anyone who saw it would give him a look that was equal parts apologetic and concerned.

But when Steve started getting left alone at home, when he only had surface level friends, when he cried himself to sleep because the silence wasn’t enough to drown out the negative thoughts, the bat wrapped itself around his neck, and he didn’t feel so alone.

He’d started sleeping with his hand on his shoulder just to feel closer to his soulmate.

Hoped that whoever it was wouldn’t be disappointed that he was theirs.

————-

Eddie convinced himself for his entire childhood that the golden retriever tattoo that ran up and down his arms every day was some sympathy soulmate tattoo.

There was no way his soulmate was someone this hyper.

And then Wayne explained there was usually a story behind the tattoo, something more than just the personality or energy of a person.

At night, the retriever would pace across his chest, eventually settling right over his heart.

He wondered what his tattoo representation was.

He hoped it was a bat.

————-

“Dude, it’s not a big deal. Just show us!” Tommy yelled to Steve from the pool.

Steve had managed to hide it from his friends for so long.

He wasn’t ashamed necessarily, but he definitely didn’t need Tommy and Carol or any of the rest of the basketball team to see it.

The tattoo often stayed hidden pretty well during the day, usually hid on his thigh or stomach. He got away with always wearing shirts for practice and skipped post-practice showers with excuses that he had a study group to get to.

But his pool was a problem, especially now that he was at an age where everyone wanted to come over to swim when his parents weren’t around, which was often.

He tried to make excuses, said he was just worried about the sun, worried about a creepy neighbor watching.

It only worked a couple of times.

Now it was night, so no sun.

The neighbor was on vacation.

And everyone expected him to strip down and get into the pool.

So he did.

Everyone stared in silence as the bat flew from his stomach to his back and settled on his shoulder.

It seemed like it wanted to be seen, but still wasn’t sure how it wanted to be perceived.

Steve could relate.

No one commented on it, probably too afraid that one wrong word would get them kicked out of the pool permanently.

When he went to bed that night, the bat took its place around his neck, his hand rested in its place against his shoulder, and he sighed.

“I hope you’re being seen,” he whispered into his empty room.

——————-

The golden retriever was completely still for more than eight hours the same night Starcourt exploded.

Eddie tried not to panic for the first few hours, knew it could be any number of reasons the tattoo wasn’t moving.

But after hour six, he called Wayne at work, worry carrying over the line as fireworks boomed in the background.

“It’s not moving. It- you said when it stopped it meant- they can’t be, though.”

“Eds, take a few slow breaths, son. C’mon now, you’d have known if he-”

“But what if mine’s broken? What if the connection isn’t right?” Eddie tried taking breaths, but it wasn’t working.

The more he thought about it, the more likely it was that his soulmate was gone.

By the time Wayne made it home from work, the retriever had moved from his forearm to its usual place over his heart, and Eddie was fast asleep on the couch, his hand resting on top of it.

—--------------------

Being dragged into more freaky Upside Down shit was not on Steve’s to-do list. Then again, it never really was.

He wouldn’t have even bothered coming with Dustin and Max if not for the fact that Dustin was terrified something had happened to his new best friend Eddie.

He tried to hide his terrible mood, but knew he was failing.

He woke up this morning to his bat already on his leg, seemingly asleep, though it was normally still around his neck or on his shoulder when he woke up.

It hadn’t moved all morning, and he was a little worried about what that might mean.

He was also getting more worried by the day that he’d never meet his soulmate.

He knew it was dramatic, but most people he went to school with had met theirs by now, their tattoos now permanently placed in matching spots on their bodies.

“Dustin, this is so stupid,” he reiterated for the hundredth time as they walked up to the boathouse door.

He kept thinking it to himself as they poked around looking for Eddie, as he was being held against the wall with a broken bottle to his neck by Eddie, as he felt a flutter in his stomach at the way Eddie was watching him as they told him about the Upside Down.

He didn’t take the time over the next couple of days to pay much attention to his tattoo, didn’t really consider the fact that what little time he slept, he was so out of it he didn’t even notice whether the bat was on his neck or not.

Didn’t think about it until a moment in the RV alone with Eddie, when something in his brain told him to check on the bat.

“Sorry, just. Can you wait one second?” Steve interrupted Eddie’s thought as kindly as he could.

“Uh, yeah?” Eddie responded, confused.

He slipped to the back, not bothering to close the curtain that separated it from the rest of the RV.

He lifted his shirt in hopes of seeing it, but it wasn’t there.

He groaned and unbuttoned his jeans, rushing to just check and see if the bat had moved at all.

He shoved his jeans down and frowned.

It was in the same place still.

On his inner thigh on his right leg.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, or what he thought was under his breath.

“Everything okay?” Eddie’s voice was much closer than he expected, making him jump and rush to pull his pants back up. “Shit, was that your tattoo?”

“Yeah. It hasn’t moved in a while.”

“Neither has mine.” Eddie moved in closer. “Actually, mine’s on my thigh too. Kinda makes it hard to check.”

“Which thigh?” Steve couldn’t help asking.

“Right.”

“What is it?”

“Golden retriever. Can’t really imagine who it would be,” he admitted.

Steve’s first and only pet had been a puppy. A golden retriever named Daisy.

She was his entire world for almost a year until she chewed on one of his dad’s expensive watches and ended up being given to a man who worked with him.

He cried for days after that, didn’t talk to his dad for weeks, not that that was difficult to do since he was gone more often than not.

He vowed that he would get another one the moment he was an adult.

That didn’t quite work out.

But his nannies all used to call him a retriever, his energy contagious in the best way, his playful demeanor a relief. As he grew up, it got dulled by his parents, expectations, society, but he knew inside, all of that was still there.

“What’s yours?” Eddie asked, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“A bat.”

Eddie tilted his head and looked at him, eyes squinting to take him in.

“A bat?”

“Yeah. He’s a playful guy, but kinda shy it seems like,” Steve’s smile was fond until it was sad. “At least until he stopped moving.”

“When did he stop moving?” Eddie ignored the fact that it was a he for now.

“I guess I noticed it the day we found you in the boathouse.”

They both stared at each other for a moment, possibly coming to similar conclusions.

“What about yours?” Steve asked quietly, though something told Eddie he already knew the answer.

“The day you found me in the boathouse.”

“I-”

“How-”

“Dingus, we gotta go!” Robin was suddenly yelling as the RV door slammed open.

They could figure this out later.

They would have to.

—-----------------------

As Steve sat by Eddie’s bedside in the hospital, he thought about how often the bat tattoo had been the only comfort he had, the only thing that kept him from being completely alone.

He thought about how Eddie had always done his best to include the people who didn’t belong anywhere else, how he’d put on a show to protect himself, but hated being seen.

Wayne watched him from the other side of the bed, silently judging him, probably trying to figure out how to kick him out.

But he couldn’t.

He felt the pull now.

Now that he’d been around Eddie, somewhat gotten to know him, how he was fearless when it came to the gremlins, was willing to give up his own life if it meant getting Dustin to safety, he could feel the tug on his heart.

It was inconvenient since they didn’t know when or really even if Eddie would wake up.

So he waited.

He waited for Wayne to kick him out. He waited for doctors and nurses to have answers. He waited for Eddie to wake up.

He waited to know if he’d be able to have his soulmate or not.

—-------------------

Eddie’s first word when he woke up was Steve’s name.

Steve let out an uncontrollable sob, curling down so his head rested in the sheets of the bed.

Wayne’s hand was on his back, his voice trying to speak to him and Eddie at the same time.

They’d gotten closer over the last few days, Wayne’s calm presence enough to keep Steve from completely losing his mind with worry.

But the pain meds in the IV drip seemed to catch back up to Eddie within minutes and he was asleep again.

“He woke up though. Your boy woke up,” Wayne said to him, holding his hand.

“Yeah. He did.”

—-------------------

When Eddie left the hospital, Steve insisted on pushing his wheelchair to Wayne’s truck himself.

The nurse agreed with little argument; The hospital was incredibly understaffed and overrun with patients from the “earthquake” and she had a million better things to do.

The walk down was mostly quiet, but not awkward.

“I think some of my tattoo is missing,” Eddie finally said, barely more than a whisper.

“From the bats?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Doesn’t change anything.”

“No?” he asked, voice full of hope.

“Not a thing for me.”

—------------------------

They dated.

It was unconventional in every way.

Steve had never pictured himself with a man, but now he couldn’t picture himself with anyone but Eddie.

Eddie had to explain that they couldn’t just go out and hold hands like any of Steve’s other dates, they had to be careful.

It wasn’t always easy; Steve got frustrated and Eddie got insecure.

But they always ended their nights with soft kisses, with whispered words of comfort and promises.

They fell in love like that, the tattoos only the beginning of something that no one could have expected.

[canibeanythingelse]

here's my miraculous ladybug 2022 secret santa piece for @rosie-b ! this was so so so fun to draw so i hope you enjoy it!! happy holidays ❤️💚

(and thanks @mlsecretsanta for hosting this event!!!!)

[robertdowneyjjr]

a soulmates au where your words only show up after you’ve met your soulmate. sort of like an insurance policy, you know, so you’re not left wondering whether every other person you meet is the one if your words are too generic.

in this universe, captain america has been recovered and active for several years now. he runs missions and saves the world with his ragtag team of superheroes formed by SHIELD. steve's become a celebrity, which he doesn't love, but it's something he learns to live with because that's life for public figures in the 21st century.

tony never became iron man because he walked away from his father's legacy the second he turned 18. he and howard are still working on their relationship, but maria couldn't be prouder and tells tony so everyday. he built his own company from the ground up and it's thriving under his leadership. he's only marginally famous these days and he tries his best to stay out of the limelight, guarding his private life as much as possible. that's how it's been for twenty years and he's happy.

they meet on a day when steve is tired, irritable and angry. he's just returned from a mission where two of his teammates were injured because of the faulty information they received. he goes out on a walk to let off some steam and he's just slipping his phone back into his pocket after rejecting fury's fifth call for a debrief when he slams right into tony.

tony was having a good day. he'd just sent out a new set of designs and decided to reward himself for it. he goes and gets himself a fresh, delicious, life-affirming cup of coffee and is just stepping out of the cafe with aforementioned cup when a walking brick wall comes out of nowhere.

good news is, tony had ordered a cold brew. once every few weeks that's just what he's in the mood for and it had been one of those days. bad news is, instead of drinking it he is now wearing it.

sticky and cold and more than a little shocked, tony barely has time to recover and figure out what happened when steve starts tearing into him.

“god damn it, watch where the fuck you’re going! that could have spilled all over me! idiot!” steve yells at tony. and on a normal day, he’d be apologetic and he’d never curse like this at a stranger. but he really didn’t need yet another thing to go wrong today and he’s on a short fuse.

maybe later, when he’s calmed down, he’ll think back on the cute man with the giant brown eyes staring at him in disbelief and start beating himself up over how he behaved.

at the moment, all tony can do is look at steve’s pristine white t-shirt that somehow has not a single drop of coffee on it, then look back down at his own chest. he has no words except, “wow. you’re a fucking asshole.” and he just turns around and walks away.

tony gets home and strips off for a rinse before he gets ready for his flight to london for a week of meetings. all the while he can’t help but think that angry blond man looked vaguely familiar and he can’t place where he knows him from. he doesn’t notice the new string of words tattooed down the side of his thigh until he’s in his hotel room half a day later.

meanwhile, steve gets home after his walk, after he’s checked on his teammates, after sitting with fury for three long hours to debrief, and finally washes the day off of him. before he gets into the shower, he notices something different about his reflection.

along his left bicep are the words, wow. you’re a fucking asshole.

he thinks back on the cute man with the big brown eyes and a chest full of coffee and wonders how in the hell he can fix this mess.

[mirisss]

Fated No More

Enhypen OT7 x afab! reader

Soulmate au, angst, Enhypen are still idols in this though you can think that their ages are a little older than in reality - specifically Jungwon and Niki, 

Warnings: angst, sad, Enhypen members being very rude/mean to reader, talk of depression, Lies, Enhypen kind of getting scammed, 

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate some people have multiple, but what if the one you’re fated to be with doesn’t want you? 

Wordcount ≈ 3.4k

Thank you for the request @lene03! I hope you enjoy it and that it lives up to your expectations! I’m sorry if it turned out a bit too angsty.

Part 2: Fated To Feel

Third Person POV

(Y/n) knew early on in her life that she was blessed with more than one soulmate. The day she turned 5 a small tattoo appeared on her right shoulder of the initials of her soulmate, L.H. It was strange for someone to receive their soulmate mark so early, though it all made sense as she received another one on the day she turned 7. This time the initials appeared on her left wrist, P.J. The next one appeared on her 10th birthday, S.J., and this one was placed on her right wrist. The fourth one appeared on her 12th birthday, this one like the first was placed on her shoulder though the P.S. was placed on the left shoulder. K.S. Was the fifth initial to appear, this one came on her 14th birthday and was placed on her right ankle. (Y/n) wondered how many soulmates she could possibly have as five was more than usual. If someone had multiple soulmates it was usually no more than three, at least that’s what she could find when doing research. Nonetheless, she was ecstatic and hoped that these boys lived close to her and to each other so they could quickly find one another. On her 15th birthday, she examined her entire body wondering if maybe she had received another name, but she found nothing, perhaps she didn’t have a sixth one. A year later as she woke up on her 16th birthday, she was shocked to find a pair of new initials on her thigh. Y.J. A sixth soulmate. That must be it? Right? I can’t possibly have more, right? Was what (Y/n) thought. Two years passed and it was now (Y/n)’s 18th birthday, last year she had not received any new initials but she wasn’t calm yet as she figured out that the initials only appeared every 2 or 3 years. This meant, that today was the last day she could receive an initial as after you turn 18 you can’t receive anything more unless your bonding is from scars or something like that. Tattoos are not included in that category. (Y/n) got up out of bed in the morning first looking at, the now familiar, initials she had received over the years. She then began searching for a possible new one, and she quickly ended her search as she only had to look in the mirror on her left collarbone, where she found N.R. as a small yet noticeable tattoo. Seven. Seven soulmates. That’s a lot, but (Y/n) couldn’t be happier. All her life, that hasn’t been that long, she had felt that she had a lot of love to give, more than just one person could receive. And she was ready to feel that love from her seven soulmates too. She just had to find them. Are you looking for me too? 

*A month after (Y/n)’s birthday, at school*

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)!” “Moa! What’s up?” (Moa is (Y/n)’s best friend, change the name if you want to,) Moa sat down beside (Y/n). “You have to help me vote during lunch,” “What are you voting for? The next prime minister?” “No, something important! It’s for a survival show!” “Of course it is, haha, alright, here, download whatever app I need or whatever and show me a performance of the one or ones you want me to vote for,” “You’re the best (Y/n)!” Moa showed (Y/n) a few performances pointing out her favorite trainees, (Y/n) had to admit everyone was very talented and handsome. (Y/n) didn’t notice at the time that the seven people that Moa was fangirling for matched the initials on her body though it hit her ones one of them, Park Jay, was particularly close to the camera with one of his hands and she saw multiple initials on him, ones that just so happened to be matching hers. “Moa, do you also see my initials on Jay’s wrist? Or am I just crazy?” “HUH?!?” Moa paused the video and moved close to the screen. “We might just be delusional but yeah I definitely see your initials and also two others that match some of the ones on you,” “Is it possible that he’s one of my soulmates?” “I mean it could be anyone so yeah it’s possible but at the same time, it could just be a coincidence that the initials match your own and the ones on your body,” “But if he’s an idol, or becomes an idol, it’s going to be all the more difficult to meet him,” “Yeah, it will be really hard,” A few weeks passed by with nothing much happening except the survival show ended and Enhypen was formed. (Y/n) kept up with the show after that day and she was convinced that it wasn’t a coincidence that all the members matched the initials on her body, along with her finding her initials on Jay, that first day, and later on seeing them on Heesung and Sunoo too. (Y/n) was trying to find out if the boys had found out they were soulmates or if maybe it was just a coincidence that the initials matched. So far, she got nothing. 

* At the Enhypen dorm * 

The boys found out as soon as they met that they were soulmates as their tattooed initials slightly burned and began glowing until they touched each other to stop the burning and calm down the glowing. They had a conversation regarding the last initial that they all shared, speculating over whether it would be another guy or if it was a girl, or maybe someone non-binary. “I think it will be a girl, I can just feel it,” “Yeah? Feel what? The bullshit you’re pulling out of thin air?” “Oh shut up Niki, you don’t understand the things I know,” “Hyung, you sound like you’re sixty years old or something,” Heesung and Niki were sitting on the couch just talking when they suddenly entered the topic of their eight soulmate, causing a friendly bicker between the two. “No matter what gender they have, I’m sure they will fit in just great with us,” Jungwon said as he entered the living room to end the bickering. The boys couldn’t wait to find their final soulmate, though they knew it would be difficult to find the last soulmate since they were idols. 

* A year later *

During one of Enhypen’s fan meetings, Jake noticed that the fan in front of him had a tattoo with matching initials of his own, he hadn’t felt any burning sensation nor seen either his own or the girl's tattoos glowing. Yet he felt obliged to ask for her name to see if maybe fate was just slow with reacting to them being so close to each other. “Excuse me, what was your name?” The girl giggled and blushed before answering. “(Name)” (Aka, a name matching your initials) Jake gasped as the name matched the initials he and the other boys had tattooed on them. “Excuse me, manager-nim,” Jake called over their manager who quickly came over to him, worried that the girl had done something bad. Jake whispered to the manager about the situation and that he suspected the girl might be their soulmate, The manager nodded his head and after the girl finished speaking with all the members, the manager arranged for her to come backstage. The girl was then informed of why she was given this chance. The girl knew that she hadn’t felt anything from her initials meaning she wasn’t Enhypen’s soulmate but feeling a bit greedy and wanting to meet with them she agreed, lying by saying that she had felt some burning when meeting with the members. She thought she would be stupid to not take this chance, she didn’t care about the truth for now, after all, she could only benefit from this situation. Once the members got to the backstage area Jake had already told them of what he saw and their manager said that the girl had experienced some burning. While the boys thought it was strange that they hadn’t felt it they played it down to that perhaps they got used to the burning from experiencing a strong burning sensation when they met each other. Soon enough, they had fallen in love with the girl. 

* Yet another year later *

(Y/n) had studied hard with the determination to attain a job at HYBE in order to meet her soulmates and after two years of finding out who her soulmates, probably, were, she had succeeded. “Moa! I can’t believe this! I got the job!” “WAAAHH! CONGRATS!” After graduating from high school, Moa and (Y/n) moved in together, it was difficult getting by but they managed. Now though, everything would be better because (Y/n) finally got a well-paying job. “Let’s order some good food and celebrate!” “Yes!” 

“Ah! I can’t believe it’s your first day already! I feel like a proud mother sending her daughter off to the first day of school!” “Haha, you look like the part too, good luck at the shop later, I’ll see you for dinner!” And so, (Y/n) headed out for her first day at HYBE. She knew it might take some time before she could meet with Enhypen, though it was worth it as long as she could find out eventually if they were her soulmates or not. This was a step in the right direction. 

* 2 Months later *

“(Y/n), good job, You’ve really shown how skilled you are during such a short amount of time. Manager Sung here is in need of a new assistant manager and after seeing how tenacious you are I believe you would be a great fit for that position,” (Y/n)’s boss was praising her, she surely did deserve it for everything she had done during just two months. Manager Sung, does he work with a debuted group or with the trainees?” “Oh, right. I didn’t tell you about that, Manager Sung works with Enhypen,” (Y/n)’s smile widened so far her cheeks hurt. Finally, she thought. 

A few days later, (Y/n) was heading to the practice room in which she would meet Enhypen for the first time. She was to be in charge of their schedule for the day as Manager Sung was busy with meetings. (Y/n) stopped right outside the doors, “Deep breath, (Y/n), deep breath,”. The second (Y/n) opened the door and stepped inside, she was met by all her soulmate tattoos burning like crazy as well as glowing like a raging fire during a pitch-black midnight. The Enhypen boys also felt the burning and saw the glowing. They didn’t understand why it was happening now as they already had their eighth soulmate. Soon the burning calmed down and the seven boys turned to the door to find an unfamiliar girl standing there with tattoos that were glowing just like theirs. “Hi” Was all (Y/n) said as she was in awe of how handsome they all were. “Who are you?” Sunghoon asked while the boys all moved closer to each other, not wanting to be too close to the unfamiliar girl. “I’m (Y/n), I’m Manager Sung’s new assistant manager. Nice to meet you,” They introduced themselves as Enhypen, keeping it very formal. (Y/n) was confused over why none of them had mentioned the whole soulmate thing yet, she knew that they had felt the burning based on what she saw and heard as she stepped into the room. (Y/n) cleared her throat and began explaining her assignment for the day, the boys’ schedule for the day mostly consisted of dance practice and some vocal training. “Yes, we know our schedule for today, thank you for reminding us though. I guess we will see you for lunch, bye,” Jungwon’s words were sharp and cold, just like the stares all seven boys directed toward (Y/n). “Oh? Uhm, I was told to stay with you all day so I’m just gonna sit in a corner, out of your way,” The only response (Y/n) received was a single nod from Sunoo before Jay prepared the music and Niki began showing them some good warm-up moves. (Y/n) sat down in a corner as she had said, sighing and wondering why the boys seemed to be so cold toward her. 

All too soon the day was over and Enhypen as well as (Y/n) were meant to go to their separate homes. “Wait! Can I talk with you guys?” “What? You a fan or something?” “I guess you could call me a fan, yes, Niki, but that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. Please? Can we just sit down and speak for a few minutes? It’s really important,” “Alright, 5 minutes. Then we have to leave,” Heesung said while Jungwon took up his phone alerting their driver of the short delay. The eight of them sat down by a table in the corridor, the boys all seemed to have bored looks on their faces while (Y/n) was giddy with happiness. “So, um. Did you notice anything special when we met each other?” “No, not that I can think of,” “Are you sure?” (Y/n) began doubting herself as they denied her suspicion of them being her soulmates. “Yes, we are sure. Was that all you wanted to talk about? If so, we’ll take our leave,” “No, wait. Please. The second I stepped into that room the seven initials I have tattooed on my body began burning and glowing, the initials matches yours exactly. That should mean something, right? That should mean that you guys also felt something,” “Look, (Y/n), was it? We already have our eighth soulmate, we don’t have a ninth,” Sunoo usually looked so sweet whenever (Y/n) had checked variety shows that Enhypen joined yet now, his words were almost mocking and mean. “No, but, I’m your soulmate,” “Maybe fate got it wrong this time because we love her and we’re fated with her,” (Y/n) could feel her heart breaking at Jake’s words, the smile she once wore was turned into a shaking frown as she tried to hold back her tears. “We’ll leave now, goodbye, miss assistant,” They got up from the table and walked away without turning back once to check on her. 

That night as (Y/n) got home, Moa noticed the glum look on her best friend’s face and the tears waiting to fall from her eyes. “(Y/n)? What happened? What’s wrong?” Moa rushed toward (Y/n) as (Y/n) collapsed on the floor after getting her shoes off. “They have someone else,” “What? Who?” “Enhypen, Moa. They have another soulmate, they rejected me,” “No, that’s not possible, how could they have someone else if you’re their soulmate? Did you feel the burn?” “Yeah, it sure did burn and glow, and I saw theirs glowing too yet they still deny it,” “Maybe they are just confused, try talking with them a little every day so they can warm up to you and realize that you are their true soulmate,” “I’ll try, thanks Moa,” “Everything will work out, don’t worry,” 

(Y/n) continued trying to have small conversations with Enhypen though her attempts resulted in nothing but cold shoulders and the silent treatment. It was clear that they wanted nothing to do with her, (Y/n) tried to remain positive through it all, and hoped that the next day would be better. However, each day seemed to only get worse. Working so closely with them made it all the more difficult to ignore their icy attitude. Three months after their first meeting, Enhypen had grown tired of (Y/n)’s constant tries at getting close to them. They were over her. Their girlfriend, (Name), was not happy once the boys had told her of (Y/n). They said that they knew (Y/n) was their true soulmate and not (Name) but that they loved (Name), not (Y/n). (Name) was happy that they chose her over their true soulmate considering she had done the same for them, though she had yet to meet her true soulmates. “Hi boys, great work on the music video so far, want to eat lunch together?” “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE US ALONE? IS IT SO HARD TO ACCEPT THE FACT THAT WE DON’T WANT YOU? WE ARE COMPLETE, WE DON’T NEED YOU, FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO BOTHER,” They all took turns yelling at her, fortunately, no one else had seen or heard their outburst. Once they had finished screaming, (Y/n) was crying silently, her whole body was shaking. The boys felt their soulmate marks itching and hurting, most likely a sign of them rejecting (Y/n) and being so harsh to her. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave,” (Y/n) turned around and left the location, telling Manager Sung that she wasn’t feeling so good and needed the rest of the day off along with the next day, Manager Sung agreed and hoped she would recover quickly. 

“Moa, I’m gonna quit my job at HYBE and move somewhere else. I’m sorry for the inconvenience this will cause you,” “(Y/n), no. We’ll fix this. You can find a job somewhere else around here until you do I can cover rent, with my raise I received recently that will be fine, We might have to cut down our food expenses a little but we’ll manage,” “I can’t stay here, I can’t be close to them, it hurts Moa. I can barely breathe, my body is numb and heavy, I can’t move it, I would rather die than stay here,” “Okay, we’ll find a way. I’ll help you, We promised to stay with each other so wherever you go, I shall follow,” “I wish you were my soulmate, Moa, it would have been so much easier, don’t you think?” “Yeah, it probably would,” And so, (Y/n) sent in her resignation letter to HYBE, saying it would be immediate and the reason was because of a family situation. The two friends began searching for new jobs abroad and apartments as well until they finally found two jobs perfect for them and an apartment in (Country and city of choice). (Y/n) had become severely depressed but having Moa around helped a little. 

A year goes by and one day when (Y/n) wakes up, she comes to realize that the once vibrant soulmate tattoos have begun fading. The marks hurt the first weeks after the rejection but now they only brought her emotional pain as she looked at them. With every day the marks faded more and more until they were no longer visible. (Y/n) knew she wouldn’t receive a second chance in this lifetime yet she was relieved that she at least no longer had to stare at the initials who broke her heart. The Enhypen members had not been as blessed as (Y/n) when it came to the marks, theirs were constantly itching from the day that they screamed at her. The marks were bringing them a lot of discomfort yet they still stayed with (Name), refusing to leave her because they loved her too much. Perhaps fate was punishing them for the way they acted toward (Y/n), the truth might never be known, but the thing that is certain is that they are fated no more. 

Hope you liked it, please reblog!

[saltsicklover]

Title: Fated to Run - Fated to Fly ꨄ︎ Part Two

Read Part One

Part Three Coming Soon!

Prompt from THIS ASK

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader SOULMATE AU

Word Count: 4000+

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Lots of Crying, Parent Trouble and Reconciliation, Insecurity,

We don't get to meet Bobby yet, I'm sorry!

My father's office looks the same. Honesty it has looked the same for as long as I can remember, and it's not just this office either. Every single one of my father's offices has looked just this way. Tan walls, that sort of sad, off beige color that every military installation, from this side of the world to the next, think outfit them so well. There's always a strong oak desk, sometimes it's pine, but either way it's always a sturdy piece of furniture that has no business around the thrown together particle board of the neighboring pieces.

My father has always brought in his own chair. It's faded leather is always well conditioned and it's warn in. Warn in just the way that when you sit in it, you can almost feel the ever lasting presence of the many years my father has sat in that very seat. He has hauled it with him all around the country, always in unaccompanied baggage so it would be sitting in his office and ready for him upon his arrival. He used to joke that if he made it there before his beloved chair, his time stationed there would be hell in a handbasket.

The day he got stationed at Top Gun as the Air Boss, that chair took it's rightful place behind the new desk. The same desk with empty drawers and too many files preemptively stacked atop it. But that's just how it is, right? After all, it's been that way since my father made Commander and things don't look to be changing anytime soon.

The decanter on his book shelf has been wiped clean of dust and fingerprints. No doubt filled with any run of the mill whiskey that may find it's way into my father's hands. It's an office staple, that decanter's about as old as myself, but the crystal still shines after 25 years, especially after a good cleaning. There's a bottle of good whiskey in the bottom drawer of his desk, sat beside a bottle of the best vodka he could find. Always ready for the COMPACFLT to drop by on a moment's notice, though the Admiral has never made himself known long enough to break it out.

I sit and stare out the windows, the ones that make up the back wall of his office. There's always windows, but strangely the size seems to correlate with rank. One might think it would depend on the building, on the base, on the climate or area of the world, but what I've come to find out is the higher the number on your Pay Code, the bigger your fucking office widows.

That, and the less time you have for your family. It seems the higher that Pay Code number, the more time I've managed to spend with clerks and assistants. More visitation with office windows and the low reflection that stares back at me as I try to focus on the air field. Aircraft take off and land, the service men and women knocking out their required flight hours as the sun moves its way throughout the sky. But still, there are times I catch my own eyes in that low light reflection, but there are less tears now. Or there had been, until that fucking incident at the airport.

Truth be told, I haven't stopped shaking. In that damn reflection of my father's office window I can see both my tear stained cheeks and the confused looks on Rhett and Jake's faces. The images twist together. It's all hurt, every last piece.

I'm sure the three of us would be a sight if we were all standing in the same place, the boys with those same lost looks, hurt flashing through there eyes, and me, red rimmed irises and damp skin. Skin that is already threatening to chap over from the way it stings. I should have savored the way they so fiercely defended me. The way they folded me into themselves and kept me safe. Isn't that what home is, if only so briefly? A lifted wing to a chick in the same way their kind eyes were to me. It's a shame, the way it all came crashing down with those four little words.

There's not even a part of me that doesn't ache when the memory of only hours ago runs through my head. Their touch still ghosts over my shoulders. Phantom fingerprints left upon my upper arms, still smoldering, smoking as they cool.

Friendship has to be written into the strands of the universe, it just must be. Hidden deep within the stitching, taking a back seat to the drips of ink that are marred into skin, so easy to see. Because if it isn't, my soul shouldn't feel this heavy. It couldn't feel this heavy. So it must be. It must be.

There's mumbling coming from just beyond the fire door of the office, voices that I can't make out by ear but I know those tell tale footsteps that can't help but get closer. My heart pounds in the same way his footsteps all but reverberate through the floor. The voices get closer, and closer, but I can't seem to focus on anything but the air field- the vision of my own red rimmed irises in the glass of the O-9 sized window.

"Sir, I'm trying to tell you that-" The words come through muffled then clear as the door nearly squeaks open. A call to DPW and those hinges wouldn't grind, but I know door hinges aren't exactly on the high priority list for a Vice Admiral.

"Birdie?" That damn nickname's spoken by my father, in that surprised tone that is just a little too irregular completely flattens all my resolve. The floodgates open, or moreover, they break, just as I turn to meet his eye.

"Hi Dad," The words come out too wet and too close to a sob, but we both just stand there looking at one another. In the time we stare at each other, the Earth has rotated almost two hundred eighty miles around it's access. Four hundred fifty kilometers in roughly fifteen seconds. His hand is still curled around the doorknob, the brass of the handle turned down just so. A Lieutenant stands next to my father, an apologetic look hung upon her features. The tightness of her bun pulls her eyebrows up, barely noticeable, but it makes her look a little more surprised, a little bit more of herself that's usually hidden under the mask, just barely breaking through.

It's another two hundred eighty miles before my father makes a move. He enters further into the office while the Lieutenant slips the door shut. I can almost feel how the handle must be warm beneath her slender fingers. The same warmth is rolling off of my hands; all of the nervous energy having nowhere to go but cycle out to my fingertips only to crawl back up my arms once more.

"Hey, kid," My father speaks after another moment passes, another few miles, "I- uh,"

There is so much hanging between us. After spending so many years arguing, instead of words left unsaid between us they all seem to be hanging in the air. Stiff and starched like a uniform collar, textured underneath my fingertips. The way they brush against my skin makes me itch as I inch closer. I wish to choke on them; on the words, longing for a moment that I had something else to say. Some sort of words found stuck somewhere between the tightness of my throat and the stickiness of my gums, lips dry and cracking under the pressure. Instead, they all still hang between us, a rickety old rope bridge while the few feet between us is a canyon's expanse.

The average argument lasts ten minutes, and families tend to have around a hundred arguments a year. That's a thousands hours of disagreements that stand between us over the last year alone. A hundred and twenty five words per minute. That's one hundred twenty five thousand words and I can feel each and every letter that hangs between us in this moment, thick between us like a fog. I can't seem to breathe.

The only thing that seems real is the hot tears falling down my cheeks and the sight of my father's downturned smile. There is so much pity there, or maybe it's remorse in the way one is remorseful for not appreciating a song the first time it's played through. It's the missing of the baseline and the way the bridge carries through to the end of the score. His eyes are gentle, in the way roses are- pricking, piercing from just the right angle.

"It's been a long time, Dad, I've missed you," The words have been hidden in the spaces between my molars, stuck there so long I barely recognized their honesty as they fell from my tongue. My lips catch on their sharp edges and I swallow down the acrid taste of bile and copper. Wiping at the new found streaks of tears, smearing them across the heat of my cheeks, my fingers come back tinged with watery mascara smudges.

"It's been too long, Birdie, sweet pea, too long," There's a slight hesitation in his tone, but it's all too genuine, in a way that makes my stomach turn. The nausea isn't new, not today. "How was-" I know he's going to ask about the last year, about the travel and the time spent in-between our arguments but I can't keep the words from slipping off of my tongue.

"I need to know about your Aviators," He stops, the words hitting him straight in the face leaving mouth hanging open mid sentence. His eyebrows scrunch with the narrowing of his gaze, the confusion evident in the way his head cocks gently to one side before he straightens it right back again. Parts of my father are slipping past the Admiral, like sand through fingertips, but he does everything he can to hold onto his hardened exterior.

"My Aviators?" There is so much hidden in the way the syllables crackle from his throat. He looks as though he has words still stuck to the roof of his mouth, words he keeps tonguing at to keep them hidden behind his teeth.

"I- yes," My brain is spiraling just a little to fast for my mouth to keep up. I can almost feel the way my nervous system is spiking, my neurons firing as my tongue tries to say the words in the forefront of my mind. The deep breath I force into my lungs does nothing to slow my thoughts, but my father's shoulders relax at the sight of my own shoulders dropping slightly. It's a shallow effort but it helps, if only a little.

"I met one of your Aviators today, at the airport," He nods in understanding, "Blond, tall, from Texas. Super nice. Said his name was Jake,"

"Jake?" My father huffs out, scrubbing a hand over his face. "A Texan with one of those shit eating grins?"

"He had a nice smile, if that's what you mean," I reason. The feeling of an impending argument is like static in the air, the hair on my arms standing on end as gooseflesh breaks out over my bare skin. That feeling is acknowledged with a quick glance between us, a look that has him moving closer to his desk. He picks up a framed photograph from it's corner before holding it out to me. I finally move closer, separating some of the distance between us. It's strange, being so close together after spending so long apart. I often wonder if that's how all children's relationships with their parents are after they grow up, or if my father and I are stuck in a unique form of perpetual misunderstanding. I take the photograph from his hand.

"This him?" He points at a man in the back row of the photograph, big smile and kind eyes. It's definitely him, that much I am certain of. There is just something so recognizable about that smile of his, the way the lines on either side of his mouth bend with a dash of mirth, bracketing perfect teeth. It's sick, really, how nice his teeth are.

There are a handful of other people shoved into the photograph together. Jake has his arm thrown around another man who sports a mustache and messy hair. That man looks at Jake like he emits pure light. Eyes squinted slightly with a smile too big to be contained with a closed jaw. That's Rooster. That's Jake's soulmate. There's no other explanation as to why the blond would be holding the other man so incredibly close, with his hands gripping into the material of Rooster's flight suit.

To Jake's other side is a woman. Her smile is smaller, almost practiced, but true joy emits from her eyes. With slicked back hair and sharp brows, she looks all business, like a woman not to be fucked with. But a friend, maybe? Her nametape is too small to read, but as one of the only women in the squad, she won't be too hard to pick out of the crowd. It's the man standing next to her that throws me. Another familiar face stands to her side, Rhett, only with shorter hair and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. My eyebrows scrunch, mimicking my father's expression.

"Yeah, that's him," I confirm, my eyes still tracking over the faces in the photograph.

"Why do you ask, sweet pea?"

"I met a man on accident, really, his name is Rhett, and his friend was with him, this man here, Jake. We actually ended up on the same flight" I watch my father nod in understanding, one of his hands coming up to brush at his nonexistent five o'clock shadow. I huff, averting my eyes for the next part. "I might have had my soulmate sentence encounter earlier this afternoon," The confession is sheepish at best. I don't meet his eyes. There's no point. I know the expression he wears now and I know I can't handle it in this moment. There's already been enough crying.

"Was it with him? With Hangman?" I watch from the corner of my eye as my father's eyebrows knit together impossibly tighter. His voice is pinched at the callsign, lips tight around it.

"Yes, it was him, but that's not really the point, Dad," My eyes trail over him in the photograph again, but I'm pulled back to Rhett, confusion gnawing inside of my skull, just behind my eyes, "How old is this photograph, because this is Rhett right here, and he told me he wasn't military," I want to ask him if he really knows his aviators all that well, considering the lack of acknowledgement on his features.

"That photo was taken after their last mission, wasn't more than a few weeks ago, right after they all graduated their advanced training. It's recent, and there's nobody in that squad named Rhett,"

"There has to be! This is him, right here next to that woman. I swear it's him!" My fingernail, all chipped polish and sparkles, clinks against the glass, my father leaning closer to get a better look before plucking the frame from my gently shaking hands.

"Sweet pea, I think you're mistaken," His tone sounds like his words are treading a minefield somewhere deep in his throat. I can't help but cough at the thought. That tension bristles between us again, electric like a storm. My fingers knit through my hair to keep from chipping more of my nail polish from my already scraped up nails.

"That," My father taps the glass with his finger, "Is Lieutenant Floyd"

"Lieutenant Floyd?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Floyd," There's a faux confidence in his tone, the same one he used to use when he would call home to say he'd only be gone a little while longer.

"Dad," I raise my eyebrows as I finally swing my eyeline back up to meet his, "What is Lieutenant Floyd's first name?"

He sputters a bit, a hand rubbing at the lack of stubble on his chin. There's a sort of furrow to his brow, one I recognize, even if the rest of his features are laid out in a way I have never come to know. My father has always been a sure man, steadfast in his actions, information spread out in his brain easy to access. This grappling for an answer is unlike him, but it makes him seem impossibly more human. 

"Oh, Dad," The words are spoken with slight exasperation laced in the low chuckle that springs forth from deep within my chest. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'll just ask the very nice Lieutenant who let me in earlier, she seemed... knowledgeable," 

I am met with the deep roll of my father's eyes, his hands no longer scrubbing over his face, instead he rubs carefully at his temples. His reaction makes me grip a little harder at my hair. It's stupid, this battle between us. Something left over from the strife of my youth; what we clung to with white knuckles and bloody nail beds just to keep a semblance of a relationship. It's all adolescent animosity stripped to adulthood anonymity, achingly arduous. 

"Honestly, Birdie," The words travel on an exhale, "I don't know his first name. Hell, I don't know most of them, especially if they don't give me trouble. I've always called him Lieutenant, barely ever needed Floyd tacked on the end,"

My father shrugs his shoulders unceremoniously, plopping the photograph back down onto the corner of his desk. He leans back into the long line of his desk, his usually pristine tan uniform wrinkling with the way he almost folds in on himself. My tongue flicks over my teeth as I fight the grimace I can feel rising over my features. I try and school my face back into pleasant nonchalance, much like my father usually does, however I think it's a skill better mastered with each star pinned to his collar. 

"Can I say something?" There's too much honesty in the way the words crackle out. I nod; it's easier that way. My hands find home near my hips, my thumbs tucked into my belt loops in a shallow attempt to keep from continuing the pull on my roots. 

"For what feels like forever now, it's just been you, your brother and I against the world. Just the three of us, and I know not having your mother has been one of the most challenging things, for all of us. I know there has always been this bond that Arrow and I have had, and maybe it's because he is my son, or because he decided that the Navy was his calling too. Either way, I know that there's a foundation there, one that you and I just don't have," I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I do my best to blink them back. The more he speaks, the more the sight of him swims. 

"But, I want you to know that even though you and I have struggled," There's a little trace of humor there, but neither of us comment on it, "I love you so fucking much, kid. So much that my chest aches. And I knew this day was coming- your soulmate encounter. God, kid, I am so excited for you, but so fucking scared because you're my baby bird and I don't want anything bad to happen to you, I love you too much," 

There are tears steaking down his cheeks, a sight I haven't seen since my mother passed away. It makes my own chest ache in turn, seeing the strongest man I have ever known begin to crumble. With two quick steps, I am in my father's embrace. His arms are warm, cradling me into his chest, my face into the sandalwood scent of his collar. The stars pinned there less of an obstacle between us, now. He lets a land run over my spine, palm flat to my back, the warmth pooling through my top.

"I'll love you no matter what, kid, even if your soulmate is some military rat like me," He laughs,  low and rumbling, into my hair. 

"I love you, too, Dad, so much," I mumble into his collarbone, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. I can feel my tears sinking into the cotton of his shirt, the tan darkening with moisture. He doesn't seem to mind, or if he does, he doesn't say a thing. We stand there like that for a while, embracing. It's my father who breaks the silence. 

"So, kid," He clears his throat in an attempt to hide the mangled bit to tears that still sits on the back of his tongue, "Tell me, how did it all happen? What did Hangman say?" The distaste in my father's tone is evident. I pull away from the embrace with a rueful laugh, one that stirs around that anxious feeling that's been ever present since the airport. 

"Well," The word is all sigh, "Jake, Hangman or whatever you call him, was on the phone listening to his voicemail and Rhett had asked him who the message was from, you know? It was a pretty long message," I babble out the last sentence, trying to get to the point, but the words are stuck somewhere under my tongue. 

My father just nods at me, allowing me the space to continue. Instead, I plop down into one of the chairs that sits in front of his desk, ones that are meant for official meetings rather than anxiety soaked realizations. I scrub a hand over my face before winding my fingers through my hair again, gentler this time. He stares at me, patient eyes and expression neutral. It's practiced, but genuine. I stare at he ground in front of my shoes when I can no longer meet his gaze. 

"Rhett asked who it was," I begin again, back tracking a bit, "And Jake looked at him and said Oh, it's just Bob and that was it. I've had these words on my skin for so long that I thought hearing them would be so easy, but Dad, I panicked," 

"Oh Birdie, it's okay," My father hums, giving me a small grin on the side of reassurance, "It's not always like the stories, the fairytales are just to give us hope, but that's not how life is supposed to play out. It's alright," 

"It gets worse," My words are wet, "I ran, Dad, I ran. I heard him say that and I ran out of the airport and into the first cab I could find. I came straight here, I didn't know what else to do. I didn't even stick around to figure out exactly who Bob is to Jake. God, this whole situation gives me as much anxiety as a baby on board a pond jumper, look at me, I'm shaking like a fucking leaf." 

"What did you just say?" 

"I said I'm shaking like a leaf, look at me!" I laugh, but it catches in my throat and comes out all gargled. I hold my hands out, watching the way they tremor at the thought of it all. 

"No, not that," My father shakes his head, "The thing about the pond jumper," 

"I dunno, Dad, it was an analogy," I reply, it's all furrowed brows and tired voice. as if it could be anything else at this point. I watch my father's expression turn quizzical, his eyes tracking though the air as if he's watching a hop. His nose twitches for a second before he schools his expression back. His hands tighten a bit around the edge of his desk, then he's clicking his tongue to punctuate a sort of silent eureka moment. 

"Come with me, kid, I think there's someone we need to go talk to," Then he's pushing himself form the desk and heading towards the door with the same conviction the Admiral meets everything with.  

"What?" I push myself from my seat but can't keep my shoulders from sagging. He's stopped at the door, turning back to offer just a hint more. 

"I think you and I need to go see Captain Mitchell," There's distain in his voice at the name. I bite at my lower lip, tucking my hands back through my belt loops. 

"Why do we need to see Captain Michell? Isn't he the man you can't stand?" I ask, following after him. The whole thing seems futile but a curiosity thrums between my ribs. We pass the nice Lieutenant's desk, her seat vacant, before turning down the hall. It's not long before we are out on the air field and heading towards one of the large carriers.

[shhh-secret-time]

We need more of that Soulmate stuff! Can we get one with Stan??? I've such a weakness for our goth boy!

Oh and thank you for writing gn! It's such a small thing but it makes me feel good to read! 🫶

Of course you can! I love Stan and soulmate shit so literally any excuse! I'm glad my writing makes you feel good darling!

Warning: Strong Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, over use of the word skin and flesh, and a single shit excuse for poetry

Pairings: Stan x GN!Reader

The most annoying habit Stan had was chewing his bottom lip, so many things of lip balm used to try and repair his lips. Little discarded tubes of flavors that were the foulest thing he'd ever tasted, it was Kyle's idea, if it tasted bad maybe he could trick his brain into stopping the habit.

The second annoying habit was drumming his fingers on his desk, he was especially bad about it when he was younger. That was before the little marking on his skin started popping up. Little words and doodles on his forearm dancing on his skin. At first it freaked him out, he was fourteen and these weird little tattoos were popping up on his skin and then disappearing.

The third annoying habit was never learning to not go to his father when he didn't understand something. One would think after it backfiring so many times Stan would learn to go to his mother when he had questions. To his credit Randy did give him an answer. It just led to a whole ordeal of him telling the entire fucking town that his son has a soulmate and that his son was just like him when he was fourteen. It was embarrassing and he hoped that whoever his soulmate was didn't hear it.

Apparently, the little doodles and grocery shopping lists on his forearm was his soulmate’s handwriting and boy did they love to draw on their arm. Stan would be out in the football field practicing his throws when he'd feel the light brush of the pen across his arm. Which always lead to him fumbling a pass. Maybe he had to thank his coach for all the times he yelled at him because it was after one practice that he finally started marking on his arm back.

At first it was just to try and get whoever his soulmate was back. Taking a sharpie to the underside of his forearm, the big blocky letters spelled S-T-O-P. He remembers tugging down his sleeve with a grumble, thinking he would be free from the torment. Little did he know this was a declaration of war.

You were sitting in the science lab when it happened, working on your assignment when the letters appeared. Up until then you never saw something like that happen, so when it did you nearly dropped the beaker. Soulmate or not, who did they think they were to send such a passive aggressive message?! You excused yourself and hurried to the bathroom, ignoring the look of your partner. You pulled up your sleeve and glared down at bright silver words.

Stan furrowed his brows as his eyes scanned over the new message.

"Who uses a silver sharpie?! Are you kidding me?!" You hissed.

Well, you couldn't take that sitting down, could you? Your hands dug into the pockets of your pants to pull out the pen you always kept on you. Dragging the tip of the cheap pen across your skin, you wrote your little soulmate a loving note.

"Eat shit."

The font lit a fire in him as his eyes narrowed. Stan took the lid off the sharpie and drew a crude middle finger on his palm. Once he was satisfied with it, he pulled his gloves back on, maybe his soulmate didn't have gloves and would have to deal with that.

From then on Stan carried that damn sharpie everywhere. He would be in the middle of talking with his friends about something when he'd feel your words sketch onto his skin again. He would stop even if he was in the middle of something just to read whatever rude thing you'd come up with. It was Kyle who finally approached him about it.

"Dude you're gonna get ink poisoning." Stan almost missed the way Kyle scolded him, to focused on writing.

"I don't care Kyle! They're insulting the Broncos!" Stan hissed back.

"How did you even get on that topic?" Kyle rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I-...I don't know but I'm not going to just let them shit on my favorite team!" He looked up towards his best friend, Kyle could see the fire behind those blue eyes and almost chuckled.

"This person is supposed to be your soulmate, ya know? Like your forever partner."

"I know that! But it's like they know exactly what to say to get under my skin!" Stan groans as he caps the sharpie and slumps back against the park bench. "I mean...was it like this for you? You found yours recently."

The red head raised a brow at his friend, the question catching him off guard. "Hm...no? We got along pretty much instantly. Guess it helped they found me before I found them?"

Stan watches as Kyle presses a thumb into his palm. A warm smile plays across his lips as he rubs the golden letters. Rumors of Kyle and his soulmate spread quick, they were the talk around campus for a while much to Kyle’s dismay.

"But I get what you're feeling."

"You fight with your partner like this?"

"What? No! Not yet at least...I mean it's bound to happen eventually, but I mean the thing you said about their words getting under your skin." Kyle shook his head making the green straps on his head swing back and forth. Before Stan could respond Kyle held up his hand and continued. "They'll text me or say something to me and it just...feels like my heart is going to explode. The first time we kissed it felt like my skin was on fire, it felt intense. So... I think that might just be a side effect of having a soulmate. Everything is kinda turned up to eleven."

Stan just sat there and listened to him. He pushed his hands in his coat pocket and squeezed the sharpie, letting the words sink in. Leave it to Kyle to make him think about it more. Stan responds with a long sigh.

"... Maybe."

"Hey at least you can talk to yours. We had to go based off each other's thoughts...it's hard keeping my thoughts in control."

"Yeah, I don't know if I could live with that, probably end up cutting my hand off." Stan chuckles and looks down at his forearm.

Maybe he could swallow his pride a little and just take it easy. It certainly made sense now why your words were having such an effect on him. If everything was turned up to eleven like Kyle said, then maybe he needed to take a step back and try something else.

It wasn't until he was sitting in class bored again that he got the idea. He even went out of his way to use a different marker, one with a smaller point. Pressing the tip to his arm, he watched the bright blue ink bleed into his skin. Stan didn't really know what to write, it was hard to go from writing stupid insults and drawing crude things to something just mundane. He pressed his lips together and stared hard at the little blue dot until his hand started moving. Stan wrote best when it was in song lyrics or his poems.

Watercolor running down my skin.

It's supposed to feel cool but all it does is make my head spin.

You get under my skin like fire.

The tip of your pen bleeds me like sharp wire.

He pulls back and looks down at it with narrowed eyes. Stan can already feel the warm embarrassment spreading over his face and up to the tip of his ears. Quickly pulling down his sleeve again, he tried to push it out of his mind for the rest of the day. An hour went by before he felt that all too familiar feeling, it was something he was getting used to at this point. He looked down and his eyes widened in awe.

"Did you write that? It's good."

No smart-ass comment about his poetry. You didn't make fun of him for putting his words in a silly simple format. You just complimented it. Stan could feel his heart speeding up as he re-read the small sentence under his poetry over and over again.

"Yeah. I'm not good at communicating normally."

"Poetry is just easier for ya huh?"

"That or music."

"Really? You play?"

Stan grinned down as he started running out of room on his forearm, having to move to the surface of his arm now. His face getting closer to his skin as he hunches over his desk to keep writing.

"Yeah, guitar and a little bass. They're kinda similar."

"That's cool!"

"Do you play any?"

And soon his entire arm was covered in back and forths. Talking about music to whatever else the two of you could come up with. He learned about all your hobbies just as you learned his. You started keeping a little journal of all the poems he wrote you, all the little songs he'd write down across his. It was when you'd wake up to a poem, first thing in the early mornings. The sunlight caressing your entire body, wrapping you up like a hug.

The poems spoke of things like how he was excited to talk to you throughout the day. Asking you if blue was starting to become your favorite color. Did you think of him when you saw it? Things like how he was so happy to see you respond and that he thinks of you every time he strums on his guitar. You were just thankful he couldn't hear your heartbeat or see the way he made your face flush.

But there was that longing to finally see this person. You learned your partner was a he but the thought of asking him his name didn't seem to matter. It was like you'd known him your whole life, and because of him blue was starting to become your favorite color. So one night as you sat at your desk, you decided to just go for it.

"Hey. I just thought about how I don't know your name!" You had to move to writing with your non-dominate hand which made your handwriting a little shaky.

You giggled at the little doodle that came up next to your statement. It was a horrible drawing of Kirby pointing at the writing, but his face was scrunched up in disgust.

"I dunno. Didn't think about it."

You waited after reading his sentence, thinking he was going to continue. Nope. Nothing.

"Well, what is it??" You asked as you doodled next to the Kirby, a little frog wearing a hat joining the fray.

"It's Stan."

"What?! No way!"

You circled Stan's name with your pen and drew a bunch of exclamation marks. You knew a Stan; he was the quarterback at your university! He had three little friends that always seemed to follow him! He was the kid who brought a guitar to-

He brought a guitar to class sometimes.

He wrote in his notebook when he thought no one was watching.

He made your heart beat and the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

He was your soulmate.

Did he even notice you like you did him? Did he know you sat across the room from him in history? Or that you were his soulmate? Of course he didn't! He doesn't even know your name.

You break out of your spiraling thoughts when you see the blue ink across your skin again. "Pretty sure way. That's the name my mom gave me."

"You know what I mean dick! I know you! You're Stan Marsh! You live on that farm that's like an hour away from here in South Park!"

There was nothing for a while. Maybe you shouldn't have said all that, but the faster your heart sped the faster you wrote. You didn't think to slow down until you looked back at how hastily everything was written.

"You go to my university, don't you?" He asked.

"South Park college. Go cows." You doodled a little cow next to the response hoping to relief a little tension.

"Go to Stark Pond in an hour."

"What?! Dude it's like 6:30! I can't just leave this late!"

"I wanna meet you and I don't wanna wait. I'm already in my truck."

You could tell from the way the letters were spaced out and slanted. It was almost gibberish, gibberish that had your blood pumping. In a manner of seconds, you learned the name of your soulmate and you were actually considering going out. It would be around seven thirty before he actually showed up. You bit your lip and looked over at your car keys but only for a moment. When the thoughts of how he wanted to meet you were so bad he was willing to drive out again to see you. To see who you were. The fear of disappointing him did cross your mind, what if he hyped you up too much.

You knew Stan Marsh. You knew how pretty he was and how he could make a group of people follow him. You knew he had those beautiful baby blue eyes that seemed to go forever.

God you loved the color blue.

With a huff you grabbed your keys and put on some decent clothes. You waited at Starks Pond for that hour, you could have stayed home to wait but your anxiety wouldn't let you. Not the way your heart was still pounding, every minute that passed felt like agony. Pulling your jacket closer to your body, you almost leapt out of your skin each time a car would pull up; only to be disappointed when anyone that wasn't Stan got out or drove off.

When finally, a beat up brown truck pulled up next to yours. Your breath hitched when you saw movement, breathing out when you saw a familiar pair of red shoes. A blue hat that looked well-loved over shaggy black hair.

He was standing by the water looking around, he looked as nervous as you felt. Just when he thinks you're not coming do you finally find the strength, the feeling, in your legs to step out of the car. The cold air nipping at your skin, it felt like ice right now from the way your skin set ablaze. The sounds of your footsteps crunching against the snow makes him look back and his jaw drop.

"It's you."

"It's me." You respond with a little smile, your voice barely above a whisper.

Stan takes the initiative and meets you halfway, the two of you meeting on the worn out walking trail. It isn't until he steps into the moonlight that you realize he's not wearing his jacket, but you notice the ink going up and down his arms.

"You actually came. I didn't think you would."

"I almost didn't...it's cold you know." You shoot him a little smirk, changing the tone in your voice to a lighthearted tease.

Stan let's out a breathy chuckle, you can see the little puff of air that escapes his lips. He takes a step closer towards you. You can feel the heat coming off him, radiating around your body. "Yeah guess it is. Forgot my jacket."

"Were you that excited?"

"Are you kidding? Yeah! It's not fair you knew what I looked like!"

And when you giggled Stan felt himself walking on air. The way you made his heart soar from that alone. He'd never write something funny on his arm again, if he had something funny to say you'd hear it just so he could hear that laugh.

"Then I hope you're not disappointed."

"Wh... what? Of course I'm not disappoint- You have no idea how much I'm trying not to throw up right now."

"What?!"

"No! Hold on! That came out worse than I meant! I mean I'm nervous because- because you're so beautiful and-....and I'm fucking this up, aren't I?" You watch the panic in Stan's eyes as he scrambled to try and find the right words.

You broke his mind when you laughed again. If your hands didn't come out to take his he would have bolted, ran off to find hole to crawl into. Instead, your hands anchor him to that spot, your smile brings him back down just for him to get lost in your eyes.

"You do suck at communicating." You whisper and press a kiss into his cheek.

"Uh...yeah well...you're the one kissing me. So ...I must be doing something right." Stan mentally kicks himself for that comment, but he can't help that little competitiveness in him.

Stan doesn't let you get whatever you're about to say out, his lips meet yours eagerly. He knows whatever you're about to say is only going to make his face turn a deeper shade of red. When he pulls away and sees your eyes are shut and your lips still slightly parted from the kiss, he knows he's already in deep. Especially when you cupped his face and brought him in for another.

Everything felt like being turned up to eleven. Everything felt right. You felt right being in his arms like this. He never wanted to come down from this feeling and he was sure you felt the same.

[kelcemenow]

Your Voice - Chapter 1.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1118

Warnings Strong language, that's all.

This Anon request piqued my interest as I used to read a lot of Soulmate AU fanfiction 'back in the day' and I really liked this idea! AU's give me so much creative freedom...and a chance to go back to college Travis!! Now, I wasn't going to make this a series but as I was writing, I realised it is going to have to be as I had a great idea for it! I hope you enjoy! "Can I request a Travis k x soulmate au? pls 😩"

CHAPTER 1

"What did your Soulmate say today?"

You looked up from your lunch, pausing from pushing a piece of lettuce around the plate with your fork.

"Go long, man." You rolled your eyes as you repeated what you had heard earlier that day, "I'm honestly past caring at this point."

Chloe clapped her hands and jumped a little in her seat, "So, he's a sports guy? Maybe we should scope out the teams and see if you recognise anyone's voice?"

You sighed, "Chloe, I really don't care anymore. I've been hearing his voice for 3 months now. This college is huge, it would take me forever to find him here. Plus, some days I can't even make out what he's saying, it's so faint and muffled, I doubt I'd even recognise it."

Chloe twisted her mouth as she thought, "I could get us some invites to the jock parties?"

"You're not listening to me at all are you, are you?" You returned to your salad.

"We'll get you looking super hot, see if the voice gets louder at any of them, get talking to guys and then before you know it, you've found your Soulmate!"

"No, then." You said whilst chewing on your chicken.

Chloe reached across and held your hand, "But this is so exciting. Think of poor me, Y/N. My Soulmates voice was so loud back home, I come here and now I can't hear him at all. You've actually got a chance of meeting yours, he's obviously here! So, let's go and find him."

You stared across the lunch table at her, your face unchanging.

Chloe slowly retreated back into her seat and picked up her Diet Coke can, "Okay. I'll try again later."

______________________________________________________________

You stretched in your seat, rubbing your eyes and looking down at your watch.

10.15pm.

You ran your hands through your hair and closed your study books and files, calling it a night. Looking around the library, you noticed that you were now the only one there. You packed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder. The campus was relatively quiet as you walked back to your dormitory, the night sky quickly darkening with the dusk. Your footsteps rang out into the night, accompanied only occasionally with muffled music coming from the nearby houses. Suddenly, a tall figure appeared ahead. You instinctively grabbed the strap of your backpack, ready to launch the heavy contents if needed. Each step seemed to get louder in your ears and the sky darkened further.

As you got closer, the figure turned to face you and the dim streetlights revealed the stranger.

"Oh, Travis. It's just you." You sighed in relief.

Travis Kelce wasn't a complete stranger to you. He was a pretty big character on campus, but didn't exactly run in your circles. He was holding a bottle of beer and was stood on the steps of one of the sorority houses, presumably having stepped outside from a party.

Travis smiled as he saw you, "Hey, Y/N. You coming in?" He pointed towards the front door with his bottle.

You shook your head quickly, "Oh no, I've been to the library."

"On a Saturday night?" He snorted a laugh, "Man, you know how to party."

You quickly raised your eyebrows, "Yeah, anyway. I'm just heading home."

Travis wrinkled his nose, "On your own? Nah, fuck that."

You held a hand up, "Really, it's fine. It's a short walk, like 2 minutes. I'm okay walking by myself."

"To hell you are. Come on, I'll walk you back, make sure you get there safe." He began to walk away from you.

"Travis, really-"

He stopped and turned back slowly, "Either you walk with me or I follow 20 yards behind you."

You smiled and sighed, "Okay, okay. Fine."

As you caught up to him, you heard the front door of the house open and a high-pitched voice shouted out.

"Travvy, baby? Where are you going?"

Tiffany, Travis' girlfriend was gripping onto the side of the door frame, seemingly to keep herself upright. She had bleached blonde hair, a modelesque figure and the reputation as one of the most popular girls on campus.

You stayed looking ahead to the sidewalk as Travis looked over his shoulder at her, "I'm just walking Y/N back to her dorm."

"Why?" Tiffany squeaked.

"Why? Because she's walking on her own and there's creeps out there." He shouted.

You glanced quickly to see Tiffany pull a face before slamming the door closed.

Travis turned back to you and raised his eyebrows.

"Really Travis, you go back to the party. I don't want to cause any issues with you and Tiffany."

"What issue? I'm just walking you home...to make sure you're safe." He cleared his throat, "Besides, Tiffany has an issue with everything I do."

You walked together in a slightly awkward silence, Travis taking a sip of his beer every now and again.

After a while, Travis turned to you, "Can I ask you a question?"

You nodded.

"Can you hear your Soulmate's voice?"

You smiled softly, "Sometimes yeah. Sometimes it's really loud, but it's mostly muffled so I can't make it out easily. Sometimes it's really quiet and it's impossible to figure out."

He looked down at his feet, "That's weird. I wonder why it's muffled."

You shrugged your shoulders, "No clue. I wish we got more, it would make it so much easier."

"Yeah, one sentence a day sucks."

You walked in silence for a few more steps.

"Is Tiffany your Soulmate?"

Travis laughed, "Nah. She's cool and all...but she's not...no."

"Are you looking for your Soulmate?"

Travis tipped his head to the side, "In a way. I mean, I hear her voice. And I listen for it as much as I can. But I'm so busy with class and football that sometimes I miss it. That's why I was outside of the party, I needed a bit of quiet time to see if I could hear her."

You looked ahead to the tall building, slowly your walking pace slightly, "This is me."

Travis looked up, "Oh, that was fast."

"Yeah, I told you it was two minutes." You giggled.

Travis rocked back on his heels, "Well, goodnight. I'd better get back to..." He trailed off as he looked back in the direction of the party, a slight frown on his face.

"Yeah. Thank you...for walking me back." You awkwardly held your hand out to Travis.

Travis looked at your hand and smirked, grabbing it tightly, "No sweat. I'll see you around?"

You nodded and headed to the front door, turning your key in the lock and stepping in. Travis watched as you disappeared into the lobby, smiling to himself.

______________________________________________________________

I'll warn you now, this fic is going to get real fluffy, real soon. I've had the idea of the chapters alternating between the point of views. So, the next chapter will be from Travis' perspective and then from the readers, and so on. If you want to be on my Taglist, just let me know!

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[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Hi for the Soulmate Au could I request Bo Sinclair for this prompt please - You can hear your soulmate's voice in your head only when they're singing

Here's your fic, I hope you enjoy dear anon

Song Bird

Bo Sinclair x reader

Gender neutral reader

Soulmate AU where you can hear your soulmate's voice in your head whenever they sing.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Bo being Bo I guess, mentions of his childhood trauma, I couldn't decide which retention of the song that I wanted to refer to in this so I picked both.

Bo remembered hearing growing up that soulmates came to each person in their own ways. He never really paid no attention to the stories to begin with, especially after asking about the ideal of soulmates to his mother when he was five years old, only giving Bo a harsh laugh before telling her son that he will never have a soulmate that will love him.

The combination of being a natural skeptic towards subjects like soulmates and how his parents constantly will tell Bo growing up that monsters like him don't deserve to have a soulmate caused Bo to avoid the subject altogether.

He never truly believed in the tales and stories from the people he grew up with until he heard his soulmate's voice when he was 17. The songs started with old church hymns that he remembered hearing throughout his childhood during Sunday church.

The voice he heard singing made the lyrics have a haunting atmosphere, as if the person he's hearing- his soulmate was hiding years of pain behind the melodic songs. It was too real for him hearing the singing of his soulmate fill his mind.

At first, Bo was rather annoyed with hearing the hymns as he's trying to listen to his small radio. Behind his initial annoyance was the fact that he had to deal with the fact that somewhere in this world, he has a soulmate and they could hear each other sing.

As the years went by, Bo could hear you sing more. From their various rock out to whatever rock mix tape they had, all the way to songs that he's never even heard of. Bo found those times where he hears the singing to be calming to him, giving him a sense of peace.

It was early one afternoon when Bo heard the voice sing. He was in the garage, piddling with a recent attraction's vehicle when he started hearing the singing. It was louder than usual, almost as if the source of the singing was haunting his brain. He tried to move on with his day, attempting to ignore the singing.

The phone from the garage started ringing, quietly startling Bo from his focus on the singing. He quickly wiped his hands with a grease rag before walking to the wall phone, picking it up. It was Lester informing him that there's a new arrival that just entered town. After hanging up, Bo decided to see if he could find the person and lure them.

The normally dead street made Bo more hyper aware of the singing he's hearing, he could hear the faint notes of a piano playing coming from the church. He quietly walked towards the entrance of the church. The singing became louder as he tried to resist the urge to sing the song with the voice.

Bo enters the church quietly, seeing the back of your body as you sat on the piano bench. Your black shirt and blue jeans was what Bo was mostly able to see as he made his way through the isle in the middle of the pews. His nerves filled his body as the temptation to sing with you grew louder and more intense.

He was right behind you just as you were going to finish the song. Bo gave into the intense temptation and sung the last few words with you. You quickly took your hands off the piano jumped just as you were about to finish the final word, causing you to look into Bo's eyes in a startled worry.

"I'm begging you please wake me up, In all my dreams I...."

[lossie92]

mdtb discovering they're soulmates for @titaniafaeriequeen

buy me a ko-fi ❤️

[thedarkcoven]

Lovers Mark | Kylo Ren RQ

Kylo Ren x Reader Soul Mate AU. Cuteness. A bit of angst. No warnings just gonna be cuteness <3 Also it means a lot that I and other writers can make your life better and make you happier <3 I know it took a bit to get out and I do apologize but I hope you enjoy it, anon <3 It was my honor -Kitty  P.S Sorry for any mistakes!! <3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’ve been working for the First Order for a couple of years now and have come to terms that you were partnerless. Everyone around you already had Soul Mates minus a few like General Hux, The Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, and a few of the Storm Troopers. You were the only one that Kylo trusted to work on his TIE Fighter and that is how you came to find out that he had no soul mate. You knew you had romantic feelings toward the dark-haired ruler but could not act upon them for the fear of many reasons. One being you were still on the look out for your better half and another being he was intimidating.  Kylo Ren was always known for his harshness. His deep voice booming as he gave orders and his mask only making them more terrifying as he gave them, his temper was quickly set off if things did not go his way. He was known to destroy equipment or take his anger out on Troopers, Officers, and General Hux. But your thoughts of the dark hearted Prince changed when you caught him training, covered in sweat and breathing heavily as he fought with some trainees. He was in a black undershirt and his normal black trousers with his boots. There it was. The same shaped mark that you bare on your right forearm just below the bend of your arm. You hurried out of the training room and felt as if your world came crashing down around you. You were hyperventilating as your heart hammered against your chest so hard you thought it might explode out of your ribcage. It wasn’t until about a few days later when you were working hard on repairs for Kylo’s TIE fighter that you hadn’t noticed him walking up to check on your progress and to see why you ran out so quickly until his dark eyes flicked to your jumpsuit sleeves rolled up revealing a mark that was slightly covered by the ebony fabric of your uniform. No... could it be? He thought to himself. When you notice him standing a few inches from you, you jumped and smacked your head hard against the hull of his fighter jet.  “Su-Supreme Leader!” You managed to squeak out as you quickly pulled your sleeves down and wiped the sweat off your brow. “A-All most done, si-.”  “That’s enough. My chambers. Now.” Kylo stated before turning and walking faster than intended to his quarters. There it was. The suffocating feeling. You couldn’t breath. Your throat felt like it was closing and filled with glass as you forced your shaky legs to walk toward his room. You couldn’t stop the tears from pouring from your eyes as you covered your mouth to muffle the sobs that escaped you. Your whole body was shaky so badly you weren’t entirely sure how you managed to arrive without passing out from anxiety.  As soon as the door opened with a woosh and Kylo’s eyes were on you again he stood, his ebony brows knitting together in confusion at your emotional state, His heart twisting at the thought of what could possibly be making you cry like this. When the doors closed behind you he rushed over to you making you flinch. You say Kylo’s jaw clench making you feel guilty at the fact that you were cowaring in fear in his presence. He tutted his tongue as he brought his large hands up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing your tears away as he tilted your head up until your eyes met his.  “Please don’t be scared of me. I know I can be tough to be around and I am not exactly the one you wish to see but I must ask.. Could I see your mark?”  “Please don’t be mad?” Kylo smiled softly at your words as his hands moved to the zipper of your jumpsuit and unzipped it to your waist belt and pushed the top half down and took your arm in his hand. His thumb running over the matching mark. A big smile spreading on his face as tears swelled up along the waterline of his eyes. “Why would I be when I finally found you? My soul mate... I-I thought I was going to be alone forever. I could never be mad at you. I was just curious about your mark is all.” Kylo let out a sob filled chuckle as he pulled you close, resting his chin on the top of your head as he hugged you tightly.  Your heart swelled and you felt like you were floating on air. Kylo Ren was showing you a different side to him and you were lucky enough to be the one that was connected to his heart from the very beginning. Everything was falling into place and you never wanted to let him go. You finally had him. Your other half. Your soulmate. Your Kylo Ren.

[zepskies]

i just came across never say goodbye and i was like, “oh my goodness gracious great balls of fire this was amazing, i want more”

anyway, i wanted to request a one shot of the reader finds out she is pregnant and deans reaction, something like that. (sorry if i didn’t do that right, i’ve never requested before 😅)

Hello there! 😂

Aw thank you so much! 💜 Never Say Goodbye was the first Dean Winchester x Reader series I ever wrote, and the first soulmate AU! So it holds a very special place in my heart.

After getting the results of the poll I ran this past week (thank you again to everyone who voted), it looks like this is what the rest of you want to read next from me!

Coming soon: later this week...

"The Old-Fashioned Way"

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?

[Soulmate AU]

👀 Sneak Peek:

“Is it my birthday again?” he asked, despite it already being February. 

He ventured into the kitchen where you were getting two bottles of beer. You looked up at him with a smile when he came over and held you from behind. You enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against your back, while his hands found your hips.

“I cook all the time, Dean,” you pointed out. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head in greeting.

“Hmm. Yeah, but now my spidey senses are tingling,” he said.

You set down the beer before turning in his embrace and twining your arms around his neck. Already he could feel your anticipation through the soul bond, but that was all you were letting him sense. You were keeping your walls up a bit, to stop him from hearing your thoughts. In this case, it felt like a tease.

You tilted your head, a smile playing across your lips. “Oh, yeah?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Oh, yeah.”

[unholyhelbig]

PART TWO OF SPIDER!PERSON SOULMATES

[a/n: Thank you all for the response to the first part of this! Here is part two, and depending on demand I may do a third part. Let me know!]

Title: Magnetic

Ship: Kate Bishop x gn!reader

Disclaimer: I did not proofread, if there are mistakes, I'm sorry!

Trigger warnings: mild injuries, horrible parenting, labs [?]

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts

Read Part One | Join my Taglist!

Summary: Reader is a spider!person from earth-2099 and Kate Bishop is curious about why she's so drawn to them.

There was a trivial feeling to packing a duffel bag that you pilfered from the nearest thrift store. It was resting between a tapestry of crudely drawn frogs and an old vacuum cleaner that was still caked with dirt. It was small and the upholstery was falling apart, but it was enough for the little clothes that you allowed yourself.

If you had a few more weeks here, maybe you would have bought the frog tapestry and hung it up. The walls of your apartment were just as empty as they were two months ago when you painfully slid across the gravel rooftop of the very building you rented in.

You’d dislocated your shoulder and leaned up against the door to push it back into place, trying to swallow back the metallic taste in your mouth. The landlady opened the door and eyed you, her cigarette lit and angry in the dark. Old pink curlers were in her hair, and she blew a puff of smoke into your face.

They’d just had a room open up, and you used what little cash you had to pay the first half of rent for the month. That night you slept curled up on the wooden floor with your sweatshirt under your head. It was the most peaceful sleep that you’d had in months.

Kate and Peter lived across the hall in an equally shitty apartment that was somehow done up nicely and with a certain type of style that every Peter Parker you had met in the past couldn’t pull off. It was just your luck- to find Kate Bishop so soon after you had crash landed.

It infuriated you that there were so many rules along with the lack of rules that dimension hopping possessed.

Don’t interact with other versions of you- which, wasn’t a problem. There was only one you and it was difficult to keep track of that much.

It’s better not to mess with fate. Really- keep to yourself and don’t’ do anything superherolike because you carried a signature, and that was easily trackable. The last thing you wanted to be was trackable.

Don’t fall in love with a different version of your person. This is the one that you broke all the time, without fail.

It’s why you were shoving everything you owned into a bag and lifting up the floorboard in the back corner of your closet to retrieve the pocket watch. It used to be a pocket watch, anyway. Your father had enhanced it and tinkered until a portal tore into the universe and he stepped into it, hoping that it would work.

It did. From there he changed that pocket watch to something wearable, something that you could alter on your wrist. When you stole the original watch, you used to it jump to Earth 267, only for a moment, to disable the tracker before you hopped three more earths and found someplace to sleep, and cry, and think.

You squeezed the cold metal, breathing in. There wasn’t time to linger. You shoved the golden watch into your pocket, slung the duffel bag over your shoulder, and opened the door to the hallway. The green overhead lights tinted everything in a dingy blue, the carpet in the corridor smelled of mildew. You’d left the brass key and an apology note on the empty kitchen counter, which wasn’t your style, but also a hell of a lot nicer than the other tenants that occupied the space.

A small breath escaped you as you stared at Kate and Peter’s door. Part of you expected one of them to burst through it, but everything was silent, save for the methodic drip from the water pipe in the stairwell.

Two weeks ago, Kate had stolen you from the elevator the second the rickety doors screeched open. You were carrying a well-done steak that was left to congeal with mashed potatoes and gravy after a patron took a single bite. You’d wrapped it in tin foil, your body aching.

You were ready to crash on the single bed pushed against the back wall of your apartment, entirely content on scarfing down cold food and reading another chapter of a pulp horror book you’d thrifted along with a lamp without a shade.

“Y/n, you have to help me.” Fear and questioning must have flashed across your face, because Kate squeezed your arm and a warmth flooded your stomach. “There’s this massive spider in the shower, and Old Woman Harbor told me to shove it.”

“It can’t be that big.”

She deadpanned “It has its own zip code. Please, I’m begging you.”

“Where’s Peter?”

You asked the question even as you resigned to your fate and let her grasp your hand, tugging you towards her apartment. It was decorated much nicer than yours, seeing as it had furniture, and smelled thickly of cinnamon. There was a comfort that radiated from the space- it was lived in, it was personalized.

“Pete? Please, he’s more afraid of spiders than I am.” Kate turned to you, watched as your eyes flitted around the room, taking in the art, and the books, and the records. “Rescue me, fair warrior, for I am at the mercy of an eight-legged creature from darkness.”

You had scooped the spider onto a piece of paper, using a mug that was holding discarded pens and keys that led to nowhere. It was a big spider and you tried to ignore the way it blinked at you as you slid open the window and gently set it on the damp fire-escape.

The door that you stared at now didn’t open to that familiar comfort, or that deep cinnamon scent. You pulled your hood over your head and pushed into the stairwell. Instead of going down, towards the street, you went up to the place where it all started.

The pocket watch that weighed down your clothes packed a punch. There was an electromagnetic pull, everything would raise into the air and then come crashing down. Better some gravel than the shitty furniture you had acquired.

A light drizzle cool your cheeks, the lights from buildings around you were blinking on and off with activity. There wasn’t a moment in this city where it wasn’t raining. You couldn’t tell if it was the earth, or the season. Either way, you looked up for a few, long moments, letting the drops soak your collar.

Lightening flashed, shading the limestone of the building, your breath as it pushed through the air. There had been dozens of universes, each one different than the last. But the tugging, the importance of this one, lingered against your skin. No rain could wash it away. No amount of swallowing your pride could make any of this feel right.

You clenched your eyes shut and fought back emotions that clung to you. This was better for everyone. It was better to leave- because the one moment that you had let yourself be you was enough for your father to pick up on a signal. He’d rip through the city if you stayed. Rip through Gary, and Peter, and Benny, and Kate.

“You were just going to leave, then?”

Kate.

She was silhouetted by the dim light of the stairway, but only for a moment. The door fell closed behind her and suddenly, the two of you were alone on the rooftop. Even in the darkness of the night, you could see the anger written across her face. It wasn’t quite disgust. Not yet.

Her words rumbled over the rain. “You’re a coward.”

“I’m not going to fight with you. Not again.”

You set the duffel bag down and turned to her, took a few steps away from the edge of the building. There was a good distance between you. Water had matted her hair down and dripped from the point of her nose and slope of her chin. There was hurt in her eyes.

“You’ve never fought with me.”

“I’ve seen how this plays out.”

“With all the other Kate’s!” she raised her voice, gesturing angrily. “Dozens of them, from what I figure. You appear in their lives, and then leave and how do you think that makes them feel? How do you think that makes me feel?”

“I’d rather you be in pain than dead. Do you not understand? I’m fated to be with you, but you’re also fated to perish in every single universe where we cross paths. I’ve mapped them, I’ve… I’ve lived them and I may be a coward but better a coward than the cause of your demise.”

You had closed the gap between you. She was taller by a few inches; the furrow of her brow was prominent. Your bones itched to pull her close, to ignore the rain, and the cold, and feeling of defeat in favor of her body against yours, if only for a moment.

She whispered. “Eventually, you’re going to run out of worlds. Don’t you think it’s worth it to fight for the one you’re in right now? To fight for me?”

Pain ripped through you and you gave in to the cold of the rain that soaked into your clothes. You had resigned yourself not to cry in front of Kate Bishop. But water was dripping down your face and you could hardly muffle the sob that pushed through your throat.

“All I’ve ever wanted to do,” Your voice cracked, “was fight for you, Katie.”

The archer had softened, her head lilting to the side for only a moment before her angry exterior dissolved and her hands were on both of your cheeks, applying gentle pressure. Her eyes were red, strands of black hair adhered to her forehead.

She finally said, “Tell me. Tell me what happened.”

You ended up in her living room in front of one of the original fireplaces. The brick supported the building, and that was the only reason they hadn’t been repurposed into something cheaper. Old Woman Harbor didn’t’ pay for central heating, or air, but the brick hearths made up for it. You had lit your own once, reading by the warm glow.

Kate had supplied you with sweatpants and a T-shirt that smelled like lemon, like rosemary with a hint of detergent. She’d draped a blanket over your shoulders and handed you a cup of mint tea despite your protests. You both sat cross-legged, parallel to one another, knees barely touching.

Your duffel bag was by the door, dripping water onto the floor. You’d slid the watch from your sweatshirt and into the pocket of the pants you were provided with. Your nose was still red, cheeks pink from the steam of mug you held under your chin.

“I thought I answered all of your questions.”

“Don’t get defensive.” Kate pulled her knees to her chest, rested her chin against them. “I need you to tell me why your father is after you, why he’s so hellbent on making sure you don’t exist anymore.”

You took a scalding gulp of tea, mint filling your lungs. It burned, made your eyes pinch with water, but it was a better pain than remembering something you had tried so hard to forget. Your instinct was to run away from this Kate. But she was so, so much like yours- the one you had lost and yearned for.

She watched you quietly, taking in your movements and your procrastination. There was no pushing, not anything past the initial question. The warmth from the fire was beginning to settle into your bones.

“My father is a geneticist. He spent his entire life trying to splice the DNA of different things with humans, and his partner, Lyla- she specialized in interdimensional travel. They were funded by Alchemex, given free reign of the labs and unlimited funding.” You swallowed the artificial sweetener taste on your tongue. “Everyone thought they were capable of wonderful things.”

Kate’s voice was barely a whisper. “What changed?”

“My father became obsessed with creating the perfect creation. He started taking DNA from bats and splicing it with monkeys. Wolves and hamsters, fish and lizards- you name it and he tried to achieve it. He was getting to the point where he wanted to splice human DNA with something more. Lyla was the only one who could reign him in, not even my own mother could get through to him.

“Christmas Eve, Lyla was staying late at the lab, and her technology faltered. It was an interdimensional travel device that was stronger than a pocket watch they toyed around with in college. Either way, something went wrong, wires got crossed and suddenly, Lyla was gone.”

“Into a different dimension?”

Your eyes were damp, clouded with emotion. You shook your head and when you curled into the cup in front of you, a tear escaped, landing on the soft fabric of the blanket. You were quick to wipe it away, to steel yourself.

“My father can still talk to her. I don’t know how, I was never the science kid, you know? Music was my thing. I was a prodigy, even. Miguel, my brother, he was the one that followed in my father’s footsteps. The one who gained his respect.”

You hugged the blanket closer to you, shuddered into it. Kate flinched as if she wanted to move and comfort you, say something to ease your worries. But you both stayed where you were.

“A year after Lyla, I came home from college for the holidays. It was Christmas Eve, and though my mom begged my father to stay home for the day, he went into the office. I was sent to Alchemex to get him.” You laughed wetly, using the back of your hand to wipe away moisture “Which was stupid. He didn’t like me. He barely tolerated me.”

This time Kate did reach out, her fingers were like an electric current as they touched your knee. You flinched, then settled into the familiarity of her grip. You placed your hand on top of hers, constricted your fingers around hers. It was holding you in place.

“The man that I saw that night was not my father. I knew that we had our issues, our lack of connection, but there was this cold, detached look in his eyes. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even blink.” You whispered the next part, not finding the words. “One minute he was there, the lab was there, I was there and the next everything was black, there was this horrible pain in my temple.”

“He knocked you out?” Kate asked.

“Yeah, he did. A hell of a lot of force too. When I woke up, I couldn’t collect my thoughts, not all the way. The only thing that I could think about was my mother and how she had worked so hard on dinner and how it was getting cold. Which is so, so stupid, right? Worrying about the quality of mashed potatoes when my own father had me strapped to a lab table.”

You frowned, trying to remember. This part of your story was ebbed in pain. You were in and out of lucidity. There were lights that fuzzed at the edges and a surgical mask over your fathers face. He didn’t talk, but you pleaded. As much as you could, but knew it was worthless.

“He was ready to take his experiments to the next step. He wanted to try to morph DNA with a human and I was… I was there. I was convenient for him.”

Kate’s voice was soft, weak. “Jesus Christ,”

“When he wasn’t in his lab, he was traveling, searching the world for animals and insects that would aide him when he did finally perfect his craft. One of the spiders he brought back from his travels was the Evarcha Culcivora. The vampire spider.”

She blinked at you, clenching her jaw “The what?”

You laughed, some joy returning to your words. “Yeah, cute little thing, actually. It’s a jumping spider, and got it’s name because of it’s taste for blood. It doesn’t bite humans, though. Just mosquitos.”

“And that’s what he chose to…?”

“Mm, and it worked too. The pain was blinding, nearly unbearable. It felt like a million hornets had been shaken up in a glass and then pumped into my veins. Through all of it, I had broken free of the table, had enough strength to get away from him. I did the cowardly thing and I ran.”

“Coward? Y/n, he altered the DNA of his own child. There is a difference between being a coward and being alive.”

“I felt like a coward, and I suppose the habit stuck.” You shook your head, trying to clear the jumbled memory of pain and fear. “I… I couldn’t get my thoughts together. I blindly grabbed at his inventions.  The only thing I could remember was you. The you in Nueva York. There was a ring on my finger, and when I looked at it, I knew where to go.”

Kate swallowed hard, closed her eyes for a long moment. When they opened, they were stormy, saturated in despair, and longing. You couldn’t read the other emotion, her thumb moving over your knuckles.

“It’s the biggest mistake of my life. Leading him there.”

“He killed her.”

“Shot her twice in the stomach.” Your throat tightened. The collar of the sweatshirt Kate leant you was damp with tears. “Whatever sanity he had left was gone the moment he pulled that trigger. So, I pulled the one on the pocket watch. I let it take me wherever it wanted to.”

The silence lingered between you both, wood cracking as fire ate its way to the core. You took another gulp of your tea, it was cold now, coating the back of your throat with a fresh flavor. Kate had pulled her hand back into her own lab, stared at them for a long moment.

“Running is the only thing I’m good at.” You broke the silence. “I carry this… signature. Each time I use the watch, or do anything that’s remotely spider-like it pings on my father’s radar. He’s torn whole universes apart looking for me. Looking for one of his only successful fusions.”

“So, the other night, when you swooped in and helped Peter and I?”

“He knows. So, logically, it would make sense for me to go back up to the rooftop and get to the next universe.”

“And illogically?” Kate asked, raising both of her eyebrows. “What’s that option?”

“Kate,” You warned “There is no other option. I’m not strong enough to fight him. What he did to me, it gave me increased speed, and agility, and strength. Fuck, it even gave me fangs. But he’s too powerful.”

She groaned dramatically “Do you always have to do everything by yourself? Y/n, you’re not alone here. You have me, and Peter.”

“While I appreciate that, Katie, I don’t think it’ll be enough.”

“Okay!” She sighed, lowering her voice “Okay. Then I’ll call Clint and he’ll call the rest of the Avengers.”

You frowned and took a long gulp of your lukewarm tea. The mint made your throat tingle, your fingers twitching around the mug. The Avengers. You’d met all of them individually, in between universes where they fought their own battles- aliens from different worlds, and creatures that rise from ash.

“Clint,” You whispered, eyes finding Kate’s soft grey ones “What is he to you here?”

“My… my mentor. I wouldn’t say we’re best friends, but I mean, I think I’m wearing him down.”

You laughed; the sound filled the room like a crackling fire.  Kate gave you a proud smile that reminded you of a parent watching their kid walk for the first time or accept an award on stage. It was endearing and made your heart hum with longing.

“Good, good. I’m glad.” Again, you looked down at the muted brown liquid in your cup. “Katie, while that is incredibly noble of you, I have a feeling that the Avengers have bigger threats then my world hopping.”

“You won’t know unless you ask. And don’t give me that bullshit about getting turned down in different universes because this is my universe and if you haven’t noticed, I’m extremely charming and persistent.”

“I’ve noticed,”

Kate swallowed hard and took her hand from your knee. You fought a complaint about the lack of warmth, of comfort, but her palm was quickly against your cheek. She smelled like rain, damp and silent. Kate’s thumb moved soothingly, tracing the contours of your face.

“I know what it’s like to want to run, y/n.” her voice was a choked whisper “But just this once, please, stay. We can figure this out.”

“Kate,”

“Seeing you up on the roof, with that pocket watch, knowing that you could vanish into another universe in the matter of seconds and I’d never… I’d never see you again, it scared me. I don’t scare easily.”

You sighed, closing your eyes, clenching them so hard that you could see stars. When you opened them, she stared right back, so resolute and solid and touching your face. You had tried so hard to keep away from every single Kate Bishop you came across, for her safety. You hadn’t felt her hand since a ring weighed it down.

Every part of you wanted to give in and let her hold you, let her comfort you and make everything okay. Her words made you believe they might be.

“Forty-eight hours.” Kate begged “Give me 48 hours to fix this, and take you out on a proper date.”

There was apprehension in your voice, and in your stare. Kate would move earths for you, that was clear by her expression, her contemplation. “Okay, Katie. 48 hours.”

Taglist 💜: @lovelyy-moonlight

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

In Another Life

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick, Bad Times at the El Royale, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Miles Miller, Soulmate AU

Summary: It's so hard to say goodbye to the one you love. But even at the end, you remind Miles that you'll see him again. Even if it isn't in this life....

Word Count: 1058

TW: Soulmate AU, Hurt/Comfort, Cancer, Reader Death/Rebirth, Happy Ending

Notes: Thank you to @slightly-psycho-multifan for sending the title for the made-up title game! I ended up running with it and I hope you like it! 💕

You were fading fast. They had told you there was a better chance of survival due to your young age but in the end, it didn’t matter. Between the multiple rounds of radiation and the war being raged within your body, you just didn’t have the strength to fight for much longer and you knew it. That’s why you were happy that you had been able to convince your husband to check you out of the hospital and bring you home to the hotel. The El Royale wasn’t much, but it was home. It was where you and Miles first met. And it was where you wanted to spend your final moments.

As another coughing fit hit you, Miles was suddenly at your side with a glass of water. Carefully, he helped you drink it then sat down in the chair next to your bed. Once you had caught your breath, you gave him a weak smile and whispered, “Thank you, baby.”

He nodded, then looked away but not before you saw the tears glistening in his eyes. You tried to reach out to take his hand, but he pulled it away. With a soft sob, he cried, “This is all my fault!”

“What?” you asked incredulously. “Miles Miller! How in the world did you come to that conclusion?”

“God’s punishing the woman I love for my sins. For all the horrible things I did during the war.” His shoulders began to shake as his sobs intensified. “It should be me laying in that bed, not you.”

“Miles, look at me.” This time, you didn’t take no for an answer. You grabbed his hand and held on as tightly as your frail body would allow. He stopped fighting you and slowly turned to face you. “This is not God trying to punish anyone. It’s just my time. I know it’s a lot shorter than either of us expected but we still had so many wonderful years together! Years I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

“But I can’t lose you, bumblebee!”

“You’re not. We’re just saying goodbye for now.” You reached up with the hand not holding his and wiped a tear off his face. “Do you remember what you told me the night we met? When you saw me in the lobby for the first time?”

Miles nodded, running his thumb over the back of your hand. “I said you looked awful familiar. Like someone from a dream I once had.”

“And what did I say?”

“You agreed and said it probably meant we were soulmates or something. That we must have met in another life before.”

You smiled at the memory. You had only meant to stop at the El Royale as you were passing through on the way to find yourself in California. However, you found everything you could ever want and more in Miles, so you never left. Now it seemed as if you never would. 

Trying to clear the lump in your throat, you said, “So if we met before in another life, I know we’ll meet again sometime in the future. Just please take your time coming for me, okay? I don’t mind waiting.”

Miles buried his face in the crook of your neck and you could feel his tears dampening your skin as you ran your hand over his curls trying to soothe him. Though it was muffled by your neck, you heard him cry, “I love you, my bumblebee. In this and every life.”

“I love you too, Miles. And I promise, I’ll see you in our next adventure.”

You were running late for the first briefing of this new Top Gun assignment. The irony that you– a pilot –were late because there was an emergency and they had to find someone else to fly your commercial plane from Nevada to California was not lost on you. Neither was the fact you would have gotten here sooner if you had just rented a car like your sister suggested. But you were here now, though you were disappointed you missed the gathering at the Hard Deck the night before. 

Just as you were about to fling open the doors to the hangar, you heard someone behind you shout, “Look who the cat dragged in!”

You whirled around with a wide grin and threw your arms around Phoenix. “Hey! You didn’t tell me you were going to be here!”

“Neither did you!” she said, hugging you back. “I thought you might be but when I didn’t see you last night, I figured they made a mistake in their selection process.”

“Nope, just a delayed flight.” You pulled back and for the first time noticed Phoenix wasn’t alone. “And who is this?”

“Oh, this is my new WSO, Bob. And before you ask, yes, that is his callsign.”

But you almost miss the last part that she said as the world around you seemed to fade slightly. You stared at the man, your head tilting slightly. There was something so familiar about him but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe it was his sparkling blue eyes that radiated kindness. Or the timid way he held himself despite the strength you could see within him. Or the soft pout that pulled at his lips as he stared back at you with the same curious expression. The glasses and hair were throwing you off slightly, but you definitely knew this guy from somewhere. 

You stuck out your hand. “Have we met? You look awfully familiar.”

“I-I don’t think so. I don’t think I could ever forget someone like you.” His face grew red as he took your hand and gave it a surprisingly firm shake, his thumb grazing across the back of your hand. “But I don’t know. I-I feel….”

He trailed off but you knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t something you could put into words. It was just a feeling deep in your chest unlike anything you had ever felt before. Like an ache that you hadn’t ever even realized was there suddenly fading away. You felt….. whole.

However, you weren’t going to tell this stranger that, so instead you said, “Yeah, it’s weird. But who knows? Maybe we knew each other in another life or something.” Still shaking his hand, you smiled. “Regardless, it’s nice to meet you, Bob. I’m Bumblebee.”

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @mayhem24-7forever, @tavners, @merlehs, @green-socks @sunshineflowerchild789, @shanimallina87, @topguncortez, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @hederasgarden, @callsign-phoenix, @wildbornsiren, @lt-natrace, @the-untamed-soul @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @joalsglasses, @curlyolly, @nobody7102, @footprintsinthesxnd, @thesewordsxlibrary, @double-j, @phoenix1389, @some-lovely-day