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deathshallbethelastenemy · 9 months

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you know i adore you (3)

TEEN!gojo x FEM!reader (soulmate AU)

TW⚠️: gojo's being a little manipulative, angst, mentions of death and blood, mostly fluff tho

1: what you see, i see

2: where you go, i go

A/N: gojo is so 1989 coded

Her phone had buzzed for the tenth time during her student council meeting, and for the tenth time, she ignored it. She didn't have to look at the caller ID to know who it was.

Who knew Gojo Satoru would be so clingy? And here she thought she would be the one hanging on his coat tails. Not that they were dating because they weren't. They were friends with emphasis on friends - she had decided that after the high of finally seeing each other face to face.

The morning after was very clarifying for her. She tried to remember her dream the night, only to realize that Satoru had not slept the entire night - he had been watching her sleep the entire night. It was especially clarifying when her mom knocked on her door, and she processed that not only did she have a strange boy in her room, but that he was also soaked in blood. A hectic morning of her hiding her soulmate in the bathroom. It didn't help that he was complaining the entire time - it was a miracle her mother didn't hear him.

Fact of the matter is it would be irresponsible for her to start seeing him romantically without actually getting to know him first and she was a responsible person. So responsible that for the time being, she had to put student council duties first over her friendship with him, especially with the festival coming up.

She would call him after the meeting was over, "Now, do we have everything prepared for the festival tomorrow?"

Everyone nodded as they checked classrooms, and fixed decoration, and they put up the banner outside of the school that would be welcoming everyone in. After this task was done, she would leave.

From atop a ladder, she tied the elastic ribbons into a bow and smoothed the banner over with her hand, "Everything alright on that side?"

Her peer smiled at her from the other ladder directly on the other side of the banner, "Yeah!"

She climbed down the ladder and looked at their handiwork. It was perfect. All that was left was to go get her things.

One of her classmates giggled besides her, "Your boyfriend's here again."

"Who's boyfriend?" She asked.

The girl pointed at the entrance of the school, "Yours." She smiled cheerfully at him, "Hi, Gojo!"

And there he was, walking over to them - pouting.

This was her fault she should've known he would show up if didn't at least answer one of his calls or texts.

"We've been over this." She said, "He is not my boyfriend."

"Does he know that?" The girl said.

Another classmate chimed in, "Why not? he's super cute."

She hoped Satoru hadn't heard that. His ego was big enough as it was.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist as he nuzzled his head in her neck, he said, "Yeah, I am super cute. Why not?"

Of course, he heard them. He looked at her expectantly over his glasses. He really was adorable when he wanted to be, enough that all of her classmates (boys and girls alike) practically swoon for him when he does anything.

She ignored him, "Meetings over. Everyone, go home."

Satoru huffed in annoyance but didn't let go of her, "Why don't you answer your phone?" He tilted his head so she could see more of his vibrant blue eyes despite his glasses, "A text would've been enough."

She fought the urge to run her hands through his hair, "I told you I had a student council meeting today." She twisted in his arms to face him, "and I told you that I wasn't going to be able to call or text until after."

He buried his face in her neck again and groaned, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you did."

This was a little more than friendly, she knew that, but she also learned at the beginning of their friendship that he also didn't know what personal space was. Besides, she would stop him before he got too far, but she would admit, she liked it when he daringly pressed his lips on her neck to test just how far he can push the boundaries she had set for them. But today, she would enforce them.

She tugged his head back from her neck, "I have to go get my school bag, Satoru."

She stilled as he leaned in and kissed her in the corner of her mouth. Another thing he did to see how far he could go.

She pursed her lips, "That's more than friendly."

He raised an eyebrow, "You mind today?" And let out a dramatic sigh, "it's cause people are watching, isn't it?" He shifted all of his weight on her, "I'm a dirty little secret!"

She finally hugged him back. Not to actually hug him but keep them from toppling over.

She heard footsteps and giggles as her classmates walked past her and Satoru, "Yeah, he's totally not your boyfriend."

She saw a glimpse of Satoru's cheeky smile before he stuck his lower lip out and rubbed his cheek against hers.

And like clockwork, "Aw~"

She glared at her peers, "Do not encourage his behaviour."

They all snickered as they left.

She rolled her eyes at them and grabbed Satoru's cheeks with one hand forcing his lips to pucker as they looked at each other, "Stop." She pushed him off of her and finally, went to go get her belongings.

She sighed when Satoru slipped his hand in hers. If she pulled away he would whine for the rest of the day, so she let their fingers intertwine.

His eyes wandered away from her from time to time. She closed her eyes for a second. Little spectres were staring at them, peeking their heads from their hiding spots, and whenever, Satoru directed his gaze at them they'd duck back into their hiding spots in fear.

Oh.

She opened her eyes and quickened her steps. Her soulmate kept up with her new pace with ease. She opened the door and quickly picked up her school bag, but Satoru took it from her hand before she could sling it around her shoulder and swung it over his instead.

"Those curses shouldn't scare you. You know, they're too scared to come out and hurt anyone," he said, "They're too weak."

She grabbed her phone from the table, "You know I can't see them the way you can."

He pressed a kiss on her temple, "I can handle them, no problem."

She rested her head on his arm. He was right if any curse dared to rear out their ugly heads against them he would excorcise it easily. She was safe. They were safe.

She flipped her phone open as they walked out of the school.

47 MISSED CALLS from Gojo Satoru

He was not serious.

83 TEXT MESSAGES from Gojo Satoru

Oh God.

2 TEXT MESSAGES from Geto Suguru

Geto.S: He's being insufferable

Geto.S: Answer so he'll stop whining to me and Shoko

She shoved her phone in his face, "For real?!"

"You weren't answering!"

She shook her head as she went through the text messages.

Gojo.S: Wanna go check out the new boba place <3

Gojo.S: Whatcha ya doing? :3

Gojo.S: Oh right student council

Gojo.S: How long is it gonna to take?

Gojo.S: it's been 30 minutes :(

Gojo.S: Pls answer the phone </3

Gojo.S: meeting boring

Gojo.S: Ditch :D

She skimmed the rest of texts until she got near the end.

Gojo.S: The decorations look great!! :b

Gojo.S: r ya seriously going to check every classroom?

Gojo.S: For real?????

Gojo.S: ______ <3

Gojo.S: Suguru punched me :(

Gojo.S: kiss it better pls

Gojo.S: How much longer?????

Gojo.S: A ladder for what???

Gojo.S: :'(((((((((

Gojo.S: <////////////3

Gojo.S: I'm heading over there

She flipped her phone close, "You are such a stalker, Satoru."

He gasped offendedly, "I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"Am not!"

"Really?" She said, "What about the time you were literally watching me sleep for hours?"

"I wasn't myself that day." He quickly added, "and you were sad all day! What kind of soulmate would I be if I didn't let you know I was okay?"

"How'd you know where I live?" She retorted.

"It's a cute little bakery!" He smiled, "how is anyone supposed to miss that."

"Uh huh," she hummed, "suuureee~"

She was right, Satoru had somewhat stalked her that day and with how empowered he felt - he tracked down the very little cursed energy she did have with his six eyes.

"You stalk me too!" He pushed back.

"Hardly."

She was lying, but there was a difference between his stalking and her stalking. She only wanted to make sure he was safe. After what happened a few months ago, she couldn't help it and she only stalked him when he goes on missions not for everyday things like he does.

"Liar," Satoru said, "I can tell. I have really good eyes and senses."

She blushed, "It is not the same." Stupid six eyes, "You stalk me for no reason."

"It's not for 'no reason' - I miss you." He readjusted the straps of her school bag on his shoulder, "Besides, you don't have to worry about me like that anymore. No one can get the jump on me like that again."

She knew what he meant: I'm stronger now. Don't worry, I'm not dying anytime soon, and he was right. Nothing could touch him anymore unless he wanted it to, even her. Still, he didn't know what it felt like to have him gone from her soul. It wasn't a fading feeling of him slipping away - No, it was violent and soul wrenching - he was viscerally ripped from her. She was left cold and alone with her heart being the only one left beating. She was with him the whole time when he was desperately trying to learn and understand reverse curse technique to heal his bloody and dying body. All Satoru knew was that she cried.

Soft lips pressed against her cheek and then to the other. It was so sweet, so wonderful she hadn't realized she was crying.

"Is that why we aren't dating yet?" He continued to kiss her tears away, "you scared?"

She hadn't cared for him then and she fell apart. Imagine the damage it would do to her if she was in love with him? Her lip quivered at the thought. With a shaky breath, she buried herself in his chest in a hug, and nodded.

Satoru soothingly ran his long, slender fingers through her hair, "My girl's a bit of a little cry baby, ain't she?"

Her heart fluttered, my girl.

"I have every right to cry," she mumbled stubbornly in his chest.

He kissed the top of her head, "Yeah, you do." He tilted her chin up so she would look at him, "Boyfriends give more kisses you know."

She smiled as she wiped her tears, "No fair, I'm emotionally vulnerable right now."

Satoru's lips pressed ever so softly on hers. It was barely even a kiss, but she melted in his arms all the same. It would be so easy to fall into him and he would catch her every time. Yet, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

She was right. He shouldn't take advantage.

He sighed... if time was what she needed then he could wait a little longer.

Part 4: i'm crazier for you

Gojo: y'all be scared to double text? Not me! Ding ding ding it's me again bitch!

Part 5: baby, you're the life of the party

Part 6: something's made your eyes go cold

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

@phoenix666stuff @96jnie @mr-underhills-things @whatamidoing89

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3lostyears · 4 months

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i adore how protective nine is of rose but i also think what is regarded a lot of the time as ten not caring about or valuing rose in the same way is him having more faith in her. it’s kind of like when people complain about rose not challenging ten the way she did nine when they’re just much more on the same page in s2 because they know each other better, so she doesn’t really need to.

in theory, ten could have yelled at rose in the idiot’s lantern for not waiting for him when she confronted magpie. but he doesn’t, he loses his mind trying to save her (VERY nine) and also acknowledges that her observation was spot on. the whole “domestic approach” line gets attention but i have never really interpreted his intention as being to insult her; in some ways, i feel her reaction is a holdover from nine, who did put down the idea of domesticity (and also actively manipulated her into leaving her mum in world war 3 which never really gets mentioned).

and of course, rise of the cybermen is a parallel to father’s day. the doctor starts out harshly talking to her the way he did when he was nine, forbidding her to see her father, but then he gives in when she just looks at him. which is exactly what he does that in father’s day too of course.

like, why do you think she refuses to be sent away in doomsday, another direct parallel to parting of the ways? she’s saying she’s not a kid anymore, that she already made her way back to him once before. she can’t be protected from the hard choices anymore and she won’t be, because she understands everything that it means to be the doctor’s companion. you never see it on-screen but clearly sometime between tooth & claw and doomsday she asks about what happened before he regenerated; she has to learn that she is the bad wolf, especially when she is to continue her journey of turning into nine in s4 and making hard choices. ten wouldn’t have known that, but it’s a mark of the respect and faith (he believes! in her!) that he stops protecting her from the truth.

#ninerose is so special and i get why people may prefer s1 over s2 because it’s TIGHT #but like…there’s a reason why the romance in s1 is kinda paternal lol #nine probably would have let the devil survive to save rose #or would have needed her to yell at him to make the choice #ten said i choose delusion and being in love and was RIGHT #doctor who #timepetals #ninerose #tenrose #s2 is so much better than people give it credit for tbh #like. direct link between rose looking into the heart of the tardis and ten killing the devil #they’re both insane and they’re soulmates #and then she got stranded on bad wolf bay and KNEW she could get back. some how some day #dw meta

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stump-o-matically · 7 months

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twas feeling the peterick vibes today ☀️🌙

in honor of the part time soulmate/full time problem t shirt bundle

#fall out boy #patrick stump #pete wentz #andy hurley #fob #joe trohman #part time soulmate #full time problem #half doomed and semi sweet #same vibe tbh #peterick #i am a peterick enjoyer ok

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aromantic-diaries · 8 months

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"platonic soulmates exist" okay but how about this: instead of being bound to a special person by fate you're the ones who chose eachother. Being with someone not because it's your destiny but because you want to be with them. Choosing that person out of any other candidate because they're the one you want to be with.

Think about it. There was a one in a million chance of meeting and it could have turned out in so many ways but against all odds it still came to be. That's so much more romantic than "it was always meant to be"

#honestly even before i knew i was aro i didn't like the idea of soulmates #oh they fell for eachother because it was their destiny? choosing your mate sounds a lot more romantic tbh

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aaandbackstabbed · 6 days

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Scrooge: I’m not that in love with Goldie

Huey: you are doodling your wedding invitations

Scrooge: no, this is our joint tomb stone.

Huey: …my bad

#because Scrooge McDuck is THAT kind of insane #he’s so silly #and evryone doesn’t actually realise how insane he is #so I’m here to educate #also #he’s so me #I would totally draw out my joint tombstone with th Loml-most hated rival-gf-baby-loser of a soulmate #bec that’s what cool people do #but also I need this casual insanity over Goldie from Scrooge #I love how he doesn’t even realise he’s insane #bec he is obsessed with that woman #((and rightfully so tbh))#but so is she #like their mutual obsession with eachother should take centre stage #in all aspects of life #that’s all I want #ok but #alsooo #like you can just imagine the look on guest face #utter confusion and little judgement #but overall everyone who is not them is bewildered by their arrangement #no one other than Scrooge and Goldie can be at peace with what they’ve got #((tbf even their not too at peace but at least their cool abt -eh~))#scroldie #scrooge mcduck #huey duck #goldie o'gilt #ducktales #incorrect quotes

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aclowntiny · 7 months

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Ink Trails- Hongjoong x GN!Reader (Soulmate AU)

Just about everyone has a soulmate, a person they're destined to be with, to go through life with in some capacity. The mark of this? Anything you write on your skin shows up on theirs.

Word Count: 2.4k | Soulmate AU, Banter, Faint Humor | Warnings: a bit of language

You weren’t a big fan of drawing on yourself. As a child, you were something of a neat freak, washing all the dirt you could off your hands and never wanting to add ammo to the enemy in yours and the sink’s war. Of course, your favorite sheet of temporary tattoos didn’t count as dirt, not when they granted you several days of carrying your favorite character, a little purple penguin, with you. In fact, you practically ignored the rest of the sheet besides a few snowflakes surrounding him, all of which everyone told you were now decorating some other kid, too.

Well, good, you thought, your penguin was the best and they probably loved it, too. Otherwise they couldn’t marry you or whatever soulmates did. Usually it was get married. Maybe you would get married when you grew up. Your grandparents liked being married.

As you grew a bit older, you wrote in school. Sometimes your pen or pencil slipped, skimming your hand with an accidental line. Sometimes your soulmate was clumsy, too, and you watched a pencil trail appear when you didn’t even have one in hand. The weirdest was when you watched a whole shaky ㅎ appear, the circle looking a bit square, then suddenly erasing and being reborn round again.

And then just like that, it was all gone.

It hadn’t really been your habit to write things on yourself like others you knew- it just didn’t come naturally to you when you had paper and, a bit later in life, your phone. Beside that, given the marks of soulmates, any notes you wrote would appear on someone else’s arm, hand, anywhere they could get scolded for if they had strict family or teachers or a barrier to looking presentable at an academic event. It just didn’t seem fair. That was the same reason why, even years after school and becoming an adult, you chose not to get any tattoos. What if your soulmate hated it? Then they get it removed and you lose yours and the cycle goes on like some sort of stupid cartoon sequence of ink and lasers.

Ok, that part maybe not so much, but you knew how personal and controversial tattoos could be, so kinda weird to put one on someone else without their consent. Sorry about the penguin, you supposed all those years later, I was four.

Instead, perhaps preferably, you doodled a lot on paper, keeping at it even when that rude boy Matthew from seventh grade told you your cat looked so bad, it made him think it was a dragon holding a cookie. Such insults would not be taken from the guy who used ‘I don’t like the color red’ as an icebreaker ‘fun fact’…while wearing a red shirt.

Even if you were no artist, improvement naturally came with age and frequency, and you favored keeping your drawings cute anyway. Yet another reason to put them down on paper- pen ink faded from skin, but on paper, it was like a tattoo. Permanent with all your other notebooks of doodles that would have more than covered your body.

Your body, which was semi-frequently decorated anyway, not of your own accord. Your soulmate, likely around your age, had no qualms about use of the forearms as a notepad, so it wasn’t the oddest occurrence by far to wake up with things like ‘7:00 독주회’ or a more frantic ‘ENGLISH TEST 9:00’ scrawled there. Or even once a very unceremoniously written, shaky, clearly hastily added ‘BUMJOONG WAS HERE’ on the back of your hand. That was a fun one to try to explain. It made you wonder sometimes if your soulmate was a less considerate person than you or if you’d simply proven well in your restraint.

You weren’t expecting any answers, or perhaps more questions, to come in the form they all did.

The morning was like any other: it was your day off, time you’d reserved so as to endeavor some shopping. Making yourself a nice breakfast and choosing one of your favorite outfits, you hopped in the shower. Deciding what the heck, it was your day off, you even busted out the new sugar scrub you’d bought as peals of warm, crashing water echoed around you, lathering some exfoliant luxury upon the skin you’d always cared for.

Never once had you expected it to entertain anyone’s notice.

But there it was as you strolled along the concrete of the shopping center’s sidewalk, completely unaware of what was exposed until you ran into a friend, waving and exchanging the platitudes of two meeting after some time.

“Wow, (y/n), what a surprise, I didn’t know you got a tattoo! I thought you didn’t want any!” Your old friend Brian exclaimed with a wide smile, tilting his head. “May I see the whole thing?”

His words rose slowly to your head as you blinked, gears turning. For you had not, in fact, gotten anything of the sort done. Instinctively you held out your hand, assuming your soulmate had scrawled another vague practice reminder on the back of their hand or wrist, but your skin was blank, just a smooth expanse the same tone it always was.

“No, not your hand, silly! There!” Your eyes followed as he pointed down towards the ground, toward…your leg?

Swiveling at the hips, you bent and tugged on any necessary clothing to reveal, sure enough, writing near your ankle. Your chest sunk.

“I didn’t get a tattoo,” you said quietly.

“What?”

“I didn’t get a tattoo,” you repeated, voice a deadpan.

He pointed, finger rising slowly, almost shakily. “Then what’s-”

“I don’t know. I- I guess my soulmate did it.”

“Your soulmate got a tattoo without asking you?”

“We haven’t met,” you burst out as you raised the fabric around your leg higher, “I guess they don’t care what I think! What’s this even say, anyway?”

Frustration pricked at you at the sheer height of the piece- it wasn’t exactly dainty. Quite a ballsy move, all things considered. Sheesh. Wait, those were wings, huh?

“It says ‘faith’,” Brian supplied, “and I think it’s nice. Could definitely be worse. Could have been a partner’s name or, like, naked Spongebob or something.”

You cocked a brow. “Naked Spongebob?”

“Well, would you want that on your leg?” Brian shot back, crossing his black t-shirted arms.

“No,” you sighed, staring at your new, involuntary body art, “I suppose I would not. Well, you’re right- this is pretty nice. I can live with this. Hopefully it’s not the first one of many, though. My soulmate better leave me some control of my own skin.”

“Yeah, and if they don’t, you’d better give them a piece of your mind.”

A chuckle escaped you. “Yeah, right. I don’t even know where they are.”

“Have you never tried to find out?” Brian’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing at you like he was asking the dumbest question he’d ever uttered.

And maybe he was. Your chest contracted in realization that you had, in fact, never once considered taking any initiative into finding whoever it was had those recitals or English tests or who you really hoped had the spine to smack Bumjoong one for defacement of property. The person who, by the universe’s decree, was meant to be some miraculous piece of your life forever and you’d just…assumed they’d walk in whenever it was time. All your concern had gone to not bothering their appearance despite their clear lack of regard on the subject.

“Uh, (y/n)?” A hand waved in front of your face. Brian’s. “You’ve gone all spacey on me, what’s wrong?”

“Brian, I might be stupid.”

“Might?”

You descended back to earth, or at least close enough to its gravity, to find the wherewithal to smack his shoulder beneath the momentous echoing of reality throughout your brain.

“Also, I take it then the tattoo on your arm wasn’t your idea either?”

“The…what?”

Shopping day over.

Hongjoong couldn’t recognize his own handwriting. Or could he? Had he written that address on the back of his hand? He had to have. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. As if his schedule wasn’t busy enough, now here was some other errand he’d forgotten.

Pulling out his phone and typing it into maps, he saw that at least it wasn’t too far away. A reasonable drive, especially for a…tuesday? Oddly specific, but appointments were appointments, he reflected as he swiveled in his leather office chair.

After all, if it wasn’t important, he wouldn’t have written it down so visibly on himself like that. That was a habit he’d largely dropped in adulthood, image of greater concern and regard for mess a bit higher, too. Plus, the only other good it would have served seemed not his lot.

At least a fair number of songs had come from it. Ah, music- the eternal, universal processor. What would he do without it? Music was a way of filling every void-no, scratch that, coming to terms with the existence of voids within oneself- the thing that made him feel complete, or certainly one of them. Jokes had it that music was Hongjoong's soulmate, and while the songwriter didn't appreciate fun being poked at his expense, it was hard to deny the itching grains of truth beneath his skin at the words.

Music-related or not, this short trip was his lot, so why not make the best of it? After all, whoever had organized it picked a pretty nice café as the rendezvous point. Worst case, Hongjoong would at least get a coffee out of it.

You were starting to wonder if nobody would approach you, more singles and even couples getting in line and heading straight for a table or the door than you could count on one hand. In fact, in came someone else right in time with your thoughts, a super hot guy in fact, though he looked confused as hell. His eyes darted back and forth between the chalkboard menu and the industrial-style metal tables as he stood a little bit out of line.

Shit didn’t hit the fan until he pulled his phone out to check it, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. His loose black t-shirt sleeve fell back, revealing a tattoo suspiciously similar to the second one that Brian pointed out on your own body. And that font was very, very unique. And big. And it was on you now.

Moving completely of its own volition, your body peeled from its metal seat and strode right up to him. No thoughts swirled to the surface of your mind even as you reached his side, prompting him to turn on his heels.

The only words your mind could barely form fell out of your lips. "You're the one who gave me these tattoos."

Jumping back, the man gaze at you with saucer-wide eyes, saying nothing as you pulled your own sleeve back to reveal the second and luckily last set of writing Brian had found on your body, this time reading 'No 1 like me', and again showed your ankle.

"I designed that one myself, how could you possibly-" His wide-eyed gape fell slowly into a smile. "I have a soulmate?"

"Yes, of course you do!" You replied, incredulous. "Did you think you didn't?"

"You never wrote anything!" He shot back.

"I was trying not to mess you up!"

"I just..." The man's handsome features fell, first into seeming hurt then just into a pensive look. "For so many years I taught myself to make my own way. Sometimes I was fine with it, sometimes I wasn't."

"No wonder you thought there was no one like you," you said before panicking, thinking better of it, "not that the tattoo isn't cool! And still true. I really like the font, actually? You said you designed at least one of these?"

"Yeah, I knew what I wanted, so I drew up the faith one and..." He tilted his head, sliding his phone from his hand back into his pocket. "wait, do you want to get a table?"

"Only if you buy me a drink," you teased, nodding toward your arm as you got back in line, "you owe me for these."

"I think you owe me for years of radio silence," the man shot back with a smirk, crossing his arms.

Heat crept into your face at the way he fixed the intense look at you, but you refused to back down. "The way you described it sounded like I taught you a valuable lesson."

"Pain can teach lessons."

Ok, you were about spent at that. "Are we really fighting over something as stupid as one free coffee?"

"I mean, fighting wasn't the word I would have used there, but you're right. I've got this one."

"Oh, you two are so cute!" The barista waved her hand as you placed your orders. "I love couples who bicker like old married grandparents! So, what are your names?"

You and your soulmate glanced at each other, your eyes sliding back into those deep, dark, expressive ones you wouldn't mind getting used to. He searched yours, too, and a small smile played on his lips that had you wondering what he was thinking... until you realized it, too.

Maybe you had wildly opposite views over the years on using your body as a notebook, but you two soulmates had the exact same sense of humor.

"We don't know," you both said at the same time.

"I'm Hongjoong," the man in black introduced himself, smiling wickedly now.

"(y/n), nice to meet you," you replied, bowing back to him.

The barista mirrored Hongjoong's initial shock at your confrontation as you both headed to your table, laughing now. Somehow that all came as easily as bickering, all your interactions up to that point having a certain flow you'd never felt before. Placebo effect? Maybe, yet the tug you felt the moment you first saw Hongjoong was yet to fade. It was like those old sayings: it felt like you two were making music.

"Ok, please don't think I'm being rude," Hongjoong's voice cut into your thoughts, "but I'm a songwriter, and I feel like I just have to write down some lyrics right now."

All you could do was just grin at that. Well, shit. Maybe now you really would have to try leaving more of an ink trail.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #soulmate au #can't believe this is my first soulmate au piece tbh...but hope y'all enjoy 😁

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brbsoulnomming · 7 months

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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 15

-----

Eddie can hear the sound of thunder overhead, the smell of rot fills his nostrils, and the taste of bile lingers at the back of his throat. Part of him has been fucking terrified beyond comprehension since the moment he went out onto the lake, but it's been kept at bay - barely - with reminding himself that the others are right there, with distracting himself by talking to Steve.

But he must have gotten separated from them, because when he looks desperately around the filthy, decaying forest, he's all alone.

"Steve?" he calls out, his heart pounding in his ears. "Robin, Nancy?"

There's silence, except the distant shriek of the demobats and a low, otherworldly growling, growing closer.

Shit.

He lurches forward, stumbling his way through the forest as he tries to remember where he was supposed to be going - the Wheelers' house, to get guns, or was it to his place, to go through the gate? He's so focused on where he's going that he doesn't pay close enough attention to his surroundings, and it's not long before he's stumbling over something.

A something that immediately grabs his ankle.

Eddie looks down, panic already filling him at the expectation of seeing a vine wrapped around his foot, of knowing that he'd alerted Vecna.

The thing on the ground is distinctly more humanoid, though, and Eddie has a brief moment where confusion wins out over panic - until a crackle of lightning streaks across the sky at the same time as the thing looks up, and he meets Chrissy's wide, vacant eyes.

Eddie screams, so loud he can feel it tearing through his throat the way he usually associates with a particularly good night at the Hideout. He scrambles back, forgetting what had drawn his attention to the ground in the first place, and nearly trips over himself when his ankle is held tight.

It's Chrissy's hand.

Her arm is broken and bent, stretched out at an angle that shouldn't be possible, fingers swollen and rotting, and yet her grip around his ankle is solid as steel.

You left me, echoes in his mind, cutting through his screams.

But not through his terror, and he keeps trying to yank his foot from her grasp even as he's shouting, "I'm sorry, Chrissy, I'm so fucking sorry, please-"

Chrissy's mouth opens in a silent scream as she stares up at him, neck broken and distorted, and she drags herself closer to him, her other hand reaching for him - though that arm is all twisted up behind her, and she can't quite make it.

"Please," he begs again, giving one more desperate yank of his leg.

It works, incredibly, but he wasn't expecting it, and he ends up on his ass on the ground in front of her.

Eddie tries to push himself up, but now she's so much closer, and she's able to grab his leg and drag him towards her.

"No no no no no no," he chants desperately, fingers scrabbling at dirt and leaves, trying to get a hand hold.

"Eddie?" someone calls, and he nearly weeps with relief as he realizes it's Steve.

Eddie starts to call back, but his hand slips and he's pulled closer into Chrissy's grasp, and he shrieks.

"Eddie, it's okay, I've got you," Steve says.

Something grabs his hand, and Eddie instinctively yells and tries to rip his hand free - but then he looks back, and realizes he recognizes the hand grabbing his.

Steve.

"Steve?" he asks, because he can't see him, fuck, he still can't see anything but Chrissy's bleeding eyes and the Upside Down and -

"It's all right, Eddie, you're okay. You're safe now, I've got you," Steve is saying, and Eddie doesn't -

The world tilts and fractures, and when he looks down at his legs, there's only sheets and blankets tangled around them.

His throat hurts, his shoulder and wrist hurt, his sides and stomach and legs hurt, just - fuck, everything hurts, and it's not helping that he can barely breathe and he feels like he's having a fucking heart attack and all he can see is still Chrissy's broken body and -

"Breathe," Steve says, and if Eddie had enough air for it he'd laugh, because shit, what does Steve think he's trying to do, and -

Steve's still holding his good hand, and abruptly he finds it pinned to Steve's chest, with Steve's other hand pressed palm flat against Eddie's own chest.

"Breathe," Steve says again. "In and out. In and out."

He times each word with the rise and fall of his chest, and Eddie can feel it expanding and contracting under his fingers. Steve's palm moves every time Eddie manages to pull in a breath or let it out, and slowly, instinctively, his breathing starts to match Steve's.

"You're safe," Steve's switched over to saying. "You're not alone, I'm right here."

"Where'd you learn how to do this?" Eddie asks when he's got his breathing under control again, when he's come back to himself enough to remember that he's not in the Upside Down anymore.

Steve quirks a little smile. "You're not the only one who has nightmares about all of this."

Eddie doesn't ask if Steve means himself, or one of the other members of their party. He kind of assumes that the answer is all of the above.

"You didn't have any at the hospital," Eddie points out.

Steve shrugs - or shrugs as best as he can, when he's got one hand over Eddie's and the other still pressed to Eddie's chest. "Neither did you."

Eddie considers that for a moment, not sure what to say. He didn't - it didn't occur to him to wonder why until now that he's had one. The meds, maybe, or that his fears seemed to come out as he was waking up instead of when he was unconscious.

But mostly, he doesn't say anything because Steve looks like he's considering admitting something, and Eddie remembers that Steve will keep talking if Eddie stays quiet and attentive and doesn't judge him.

"It's better when I have someone with me," Steve says finally. "Or not just someone, I guess, but one of you guys. My nightmares are about - well, they're about a lot of things. But it usually ends up in me not being able to protect someone. It helps having them right there to remind me that it's not real, that they're okay."

And just like that, the thing he felt like he was just missing when he kept seeing people in Steve's hospital bed clicks into place. "Does everyone know?"

Steve makes a face. "Robin and Dustin do. I think Erica and Max have figured it out. Nancy… she knows how it was that first year, I think she might know more now, too."

He remembers Nancy telling Steve he needs to rest, asking it's worse now, isn't it? He takes a closer look, then, seeing the exhaustion in the slope of Steve's shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. "Were you having one tonight, too?"

"Nah." Steve finally pulls his hand away from Eddie's chest, scrubs it over his jaw. "I, uh. Hadn't gone to sleep yet."

Eddie isn't sure exactly what time it is, actually. Late, he guesses, but not tipping into early morning, since the room would be pitch black if it weren't for the soft light of the lamp. He thinks about scolding him, teasing a little that Steve is supposed to let Eddie look after him too.

"Stay in here, then," is what comes out, and Eddie - yeah, okay, guess he's going to have to stand by that.

Steve drops his hand, looking at him with a furrowed brow. "What?"

"You said it helps, right?" Eddie tries to look a lot more careless than he feels. "And obviously we discovered that I do a lot better with someone here when I wake up, too."

With Steve. With Steve here when he wakes up, specifically, but Eddie doesn't want to think about that.

Shit, he's developing a pretty hefty list of things he doesn't want to think too closely about. It's probably going to come back to bite him in the ass, later, but as long as it waits until he's done recovering from his actual bites, he can deal.

Steve's looking at him in a way that seems familiar - almost like how he'd looked at Max, Eddie thinks, when she'd shoved her way into his hospital bed. "Yeah, all right. Just let me go get the walkie. I already talked to Robin and checked in with Henderson, but I promised him I'd keep it close."

He's gone and back before the shadows in the room can grow too uncomfortable, before Eddie starts to feel eyes on the back of his neck, before he's too afraid to look up or look down - but only just.

"So, uh. How do you want to do this?" Eddie asks.

Steve bites his lip, like he knows exactly how he wants to do this but isn't sure he wants to say it, and he sets the walkie on the nightstand before he lets out a soft breath. "Can I have the side closest to the door and the window?"

"Oh." Eddie'd kind of been wondering if Steve might offer to sleep on the floor, or the reasonably comfy looking chair. His brain is scrambled mush right now, and he doesn't know what to do with the fact that Steve immediately jumped into sharing the bed with him.

And putting himself between Eddie and the main points of entry, though that at least he'd kind of expected with what he now knows of Steve.

"Yeah," Eddie agrees hurriedly, because he can see the little scrunch developing between Steve's brows, and he doesn't want him to think that Eddie's uncomfortable with that. "Yeah, that'd be nice. Good. That'd help."

Fuck, what is wrong with him?

It just makes Steve look a little relieved, though, and Eddie scoots over to one side to give Steve room to climb into the bed next to him.

"You want another dose? It's been long enough," Steve offers.

Part of Eddie thinks he should ration them more carefully, despite the fact that Steve already dumped almost all of his pain meds into Eddie's, but - fuck it, he still aches everywhere, and he nods.

"Thanks," he says, accepting the pills and glass of water when Steve hands them over.

Steve doesn't ask if he wants the light on still, which Eddie is kind of grateful for - he's also grateful for the fact that he has to lay on his back to be at all comfortable, and can't be tempted to roll over onto his side to watch Steve.

Steve is right there. He's wearing pajama bottoms and a long sleeved shirt, so there isn't any risk of Eddie seeing the writing on his skin, and - fuck it, Eddie tips his head to the side so he can watch him anyway.

Steve's eyes are closed, head tipped back against the pillow as he lays on his back, too. If he can feel Eddie watching him, he doesn't give any sign of it.

After a long handful of moments of Eddie just looking, memorizing the shape of his nose and the line of his jaw, Steve breathes out.

"Night, Eddie," he murmurs.

"Night, Steve," he whispers, taking that as his cue to turn his head away.

He thinks it's going to take him a long time to fall back asleep again, with the dueling distractions of the lingering effects of his nightmare and the acute awareness of Steve Harrington sleeping right next to him, but - he's out between one breath and the next.

—

He's shocked awake by something he can't place, but at least it wasn't a nightmare. He doesn't feel terrified, just warm and sleepy and - kind of in pain, ugh, the meds must have worn off. Eddie hopes it's been long enough that he can take more.

There's a static feedback sound coming from a few feet away, and an equally staticky voice saying, "Come in Hawkins crew, over."

Must have been what woke him up.

Eddie's all set to ignore it, but his source of warmth - Steve, his brain supplies, though he's still too groggy to do anything with that thought - is moving away. He grumbles, wiggling as much as he can to scoot closer to him.

"It's Mike," Steve tells him, grabbing the walkie from the nightstand and bringing it closer.

Eddie can hear a chorus of other voices coming from it, louder now that it's right by him.

"Nooooo," he complains, even though Steve's already responding. "Wanna g'back to sleep."

"Jesus, Steve, do you have some girl sleeping with you?" Mike's voice demands from the walkie.

"That didn't sound like a girl, brochacho," another voice says helpfully.

"Yes there's someone with me, no it's not some girl," Steve says, and Eddie can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice. "It's-"

"Gross!" Mike shouts, and fuck if that doesn't feel like a douse of ice water all over, shoving Eddie the rest of the way out of sleep.

He sits up, gingerly, feeling a little sick to his stomach.

"You want to take a second to think about what you just said, Michael Wheeler?" Steve's voice is cold with disappointment, somehow managing to make that both a question and a statement.

Eddie resists the urge to look over at him. There's a long pause, where he can't hear anything but the unsteady beat of his own heart, then -

"What? No, not gross because it's a guy, that's - I don't care, that's not - gross because it's Steve!" Mike says, sounding just a little bit frantic - and his voice just a little bit more distant, like he's talking more to someone with him than to the walkie.

He feels a rush of relief, and he lets himself sit for a moment before he risks looking over at Steve. He looks - tired, in the faint light of the morning sun streaming through the blinds, but the pale yellow catches in his sleep rumpled hair, and Eddie has to look away again.

"Walkies are supposed to be for party members only, Steve!" Mike hisses, directly into the walkie this time.

Eddie latches onto the easy distraction that provides, looking back at Steve and making grabby hands for his walkie. Steve raises an eyebrow at him, but he hands it over without protest.

"I did not spend all year welcoming you into Hellfire just to get kicked out now that I'm in the party for real, Wheeler," Eddie says, putting on his best I am your DM and is this really the choice you want to make voice.

"Eddie?" Mike asks after a moment of silence, sounding confused. "What're you-"

He must put together some guy sleeping with Steve and Eddie on the walkie, because the next sound is a shriek that's half static feedback and half Mike Wheeler.

"No!" Mike shouts. "Steve, what the fuck, come on, first my sister and now my DM?"

He sounds so indignant that Eddie can't help it - he cackles, despite the ripples of pain it causes, and he can hear laughter from a few different voices spilling out over the walkie.

"Get out of my life!" Mike demands.

Steve takes the walkie back from him. "Is that any way to talk to your step-DM?"

The smug look on Steve's face only makes Eddie laugh harder, and he smacks at Steve's shoulder. Steve's laughing, too, more like a soft little huff than Eddie's near rib cracking glee, but Steve is smiling so wide his whole face lights up with it, and he's looking at Eddie like he's the best thing he's seen all week, and -

Hell if that doesn't make Eddie feel on cloud nine, like if he can make Steve look like that, he can do anything.

It almost makes him feel like maybe he has a chance. Like maybe, even though he'd resigned himself to having a platonic soulmate the moment he saw I'm not in love with her show up on his skin, he might have something, here. Mike Wheeler clearly thinks he and Steve are fucking, and Steve hadn't hurried to deny it, hadn't pulled away from him - he'd just played into it, and now he's leaning into Eddie's space and giggling with him, and Eddie lets himself hope.

In the background, there's still distant protests coming through the walkie, but someone more adult shaped must have grabbed it from Mike, because someone sounding closer to Eddie's age says, "We're almost to Hawkins, guys. Another hour or so and we can be at Nancy and Mike's."

"Yeah, it's going to be longer than you think," Dustin says. "It's a little bit of a mess out there."

There's a pause, then, "Sorry," someone says, very quietly - a girl, probably around the same age as the freshmen.

The walkie blares with static from a handful of voices trying to reassure her - Eddie can only make out Steve's, since he's there in person.

"Hey," Max says, cutting through it. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead. No sorries."

"No sorries," the girl - who Eddie is guessing is El - echoes, and this time there's a trace of something like a smile in her voice. "Thank you for your message. I need you, too."

"It was Steve's idea," Max says, very clearly deflecting.

El rolls with it, though, very seriously saying, "Thank you, Steve."

Steve's ear turns a frankly adorable shade of pink, and Eddie has to look away before he does something stupid like bite it. "I'm glad it worked, and everyone's okay."

"Party meet up at my house?" Mike says, a little bit of an edge in his voice - like he's worried, like he wants to see for himself that everyone is actually okay.

Eddie hasn't actually seen the kid in action, but he gets the feeling it's similar to the paladin he'd played at Hellfire.

There's a chorus of agreement to meet at the Wheelers' in two hours, then Steve sets the walkie back on the nightstand and slides out of bed, pausing to stretch. It makes his shirt ride up a little bit, and Eddie's feeling just reckless enough to let his eyes linger, greedy for the strip of skin it'll reveal.

He sees mostly gauze, though, and the reality of why he was in bed with Steve Harrington crashes back into him.

"How's your pain?" he asks, instead of saying how're you feeling. There's still wiggle room for Steve to get around it, of course, but at least it won't let him deny he has any at all unless he wants to flat out lie.

Steve makes a face at him. "Exactly how you think it is, man, probably a few steps below yours."

And - all right, fine, well played. Except for the fact that Eddie has no fucking shame about acknowledging that he hurts, that everything hurts, so really, Steve played himself, and Eddie grins at him. "Hurts like a bitch, then? Great, glad we're on the same page, here. I'll be sure to radio Robin and Dustin and tell them to send you home after a few hours so you don't collapse again."

"Almost collapse, Eddie, I almost collapsed."

Eddie's pretty sure the look he gives Steve tells him exactly what he thinks of that distinction, because Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't insist on it.

"You're okay with staying here today, then?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, I know I'm basically on house arrest for a little while, I'm not going to fight it. Besides, I, uh. I'm not sure I could even if I wanted to," he admits. "I know me surviving the first time was as much of a deus ex machina as the Great Eagles carrying Samwise and Frodo out of Mordor, I'm not about to try to test it by over exerting myself now."

Steve's frowning at him, brows doing that cute fucking scrunched thing that he does when he's thinking, and shit, it's too early for this. "Does that make me the great eagle in this metaphor?"

Eddie huffs out a little laugh. "Guess so. Thanks for carrying me out, by the way."

He gets a little shrug in response, Steve's gaze shooting away like he's trying not to show whatever he's feeling about getting thanked for that. "I'll be your deus ex machina any time, Munson."

That's -

Hmm.

Somewhere Eddie's not sure he wants to go right now, when both of them are still all bitten to hell. So he says nothing, looks down at his own hands until he can hear Steve moving again.

"Gonna go make us some breakfast. Yell if you need anything, all right?"

Eddie flashes a thumbs up at him, then begins the careful process of getting out of bed and shuffling over to the bathroom. Moving around doesn't take as much out of him as it did yesterday, but it's slow going. Still, even though it takes far longer than he'd like, he's not winded by the time he takes a piss, splashes water on his face, uses some of the brand new deodorant stashed there - seriously, who keeps toiletries still in their packaging in their guest room? - and makes it back to the bed, so he's feeling pretty pleased with himself.

Steve comes back up just a little bit after with a plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of juice, shoving what looks like an entire half of a piece of peanut butter toast in his mouth.

"Didn't save any toast for me?" Eddie teases, reaching out for the plate.

Steve sets the juice down on the nightstand and hands the plate to him, waiting until he swallows his toast before he says, "Soft foods only for now, I read the doctor's instructions."

He thinks about complaining, just because he can, but decides it's not worth the effort and just shoves a forkful of eggs and cheese into his mouth instead.

Steve heads out to go get dressed, returns when Eddie's just about finished, wearing jeans and a blue sweater. There's a few books tucked under one arm, and he shoots Eddie a little smile.

"So you don't get bored," he says as he drops them into Eddie's lap.

Eddie looks down, half expecting to see books on sports facts or something, but - no, it's fantasy. Dark Tower: The Gunslinger, To Ride Pegasus, So You Want to be a Wizard, and even the first Lord of the Rings book stare up at him. Eddie seizes on that last one, holding it up with an affronted look at Steve.

"You acted like you didn't know what Mordor was!" he accuses. "Is this like that thing where you keep saying Dungeons and Dragons wrong even though I know you know what it is?"

Steve smirks at him, and for a moment Eddie thinks he's not going to answer, but then he's shaking his head with a soft laugh. "Nah, that one's Dustin's. He made me borrow it when he found out I've never read it, but it's such a slog to get through."

Eddie gasps, flinging a hand to his chest like he's been mortally wounded, and collapses back against his pillows.

Steve just laughs at him, but that's a good enough response for Eddie, and he grins back.

"Need anything else before I head out?" Steve asks, collecting the empty plate from him.

"Nah," Eddie says. "I'll have plenty to occupy myself seeing what Steve Harrington thinks is a better read than Tolkien."

Steve leaves the walkie talkie with him, promising to radio when he's there and when he's on his way back, and then he's gone. Eddie can hear him tromping down the stairs, the sound of the garage door opening and closing, and if he closes his eyes -

Well.

He doesn't close his eyes for long, because if he does, he lets himself feel like it's almost domestic, like this is them - like Eddie's lazing around with a good book after being delivered breakfast in bed, like waking up to Steve in the morning and listening to him head out is something they do.

The walkie blares to life, and Eddie reaches for it as Dustin's voice calls out to him and Steve.

"Steve just left," Eddie tells him. "Just me for now."

"Switch to channel four?" Dustin says.

Eddie gives an affirmative, switching over. "What do you need, Henderson?"

There's silence for a moment, which immediately gets Eddie's stomach twisting into knots as he thinks oh fuck, what is it, then -

"You guys are doing okay, right?" Dustin asks.

He sounds so small, so unlike the confident, brash kid that Eddie knows, and it gets Eddie right in the soft underbelly that's getting harder and harder to pretend he doesn't have.

"Yeah, we're doing okay. You were right about Steve making breakfast," he adds, because he doesn't really want to expand on what okay means, and he kind of figures telling the kid that he was right about something will get him going off.

Sure enough, Dustin's voice brightens. "See? I told you."

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie says, but there's no heat in it. "Harrington makes a killer breakfast and rips apart demobats with his teeth, who'd have thought."

"He what?" Dustin screeches, and it's then that Eddie remembers Dustin wasn't there for that part, and there probably wasn't time for anyone to catch him up to speed.

"With his teeth," Eddie repeats, throwing a little flare to it. "Then he swung one around by its tail and slammed it against the ground, again and again, and when it still wouldn't give up he pinned it down with his bare foot and tore it in half."

"Holy shit," Dustin breathes out. "And Max thought he was insane before."

Eddie snorts. "Insane is one word for it."

"And you didn't believe me when I said he was a badass," Dustin retorts smugly.

"Forgive me, oh enlightened one, for not being immediately sold on the idea that the coolest of cool kids is secretly a badass monster hunter."

Dustin scoffs. "Steve isn't a cool kid. He's just Steve."

Eddie makes a noise of disbelief, exaggerating it a little because Dustin can't see his raised eyebrow.

"Steve is a dork," Dustin insists. "If you don't believe me, ask him about our secret handshake."

"Secret handshake?" Oh, Eddie can't wait until Steve is back so he can badger him about that one.

"Uh-huh." The kid sounds even more smug now. "We made it Steve's senior year. It's got a lightsaber battle."

Steve's senior year? All right, yeah, okay, he's accepted that Steve's different than how he thought he would be, but - maybe part of him had just kind of slotted that into Steve changing after high school, that he graduated and moved on and didn't care about being popular anymore. Being forced to think about it now means being forced to reconcile the image that Eddie had of him last year, to realize that Steve Harrington had a secret handshake with lightsaber battles at the same time that he was getting crowned prom king.

It forces him to acknowledge that he never knew Steve Harrington at all, that probably everything he assumed about him was wrong. That everything Eddie assumed about his soulmate might have been wrong, that he -

"-the walkie talkie on?" Dustin is saying, and Eddie snaps himself back on track and forces himself to listen. "Just so you can be a part of it, too?"

Oh.

Eddie considers that for a moment, but honestly, the idea of being looped in via walkie talkie while the rest of the party does their thing immediately sends him back into the time he spent in the boathouse with the walkie as his only connection to them.

"I'm probably just going to sleep, man, I'll catch up with everyone when you can all come over here."

"Oh. Are-" Dustin cuts off, and Eddie has a moment of panic before his voice picks back up again. "Steve's here! I'll still keep the walkie with me just in case, okay?"

And then Eddie's alone, really alone, for the first time since they all came to his rescue out at Skull Rock. He thinks he should - feel some kind of way, thinks it should be catching up with him now the way it hadn't caught up with him when he'd had a similar thought last night.

It doesn't.

He doesn't know if he should be grateful for that or worried that it's going to sneak up on him, but he doesn't really want to think too hard on that at the moment.

Instead, he takes another dose of pain meds, gets comfortable with one of the books Steve'd brought for him, and dozes off reading about a teenager who finds a book and discovers a whole new world of magic that'd been right there all along.

Taglist (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

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Part 16

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie and dustin #steddie fanfic #steddie soulmate au #soulmate au #bed sharing #nightmares #now that steve's gotten to share a bed with eddie he's never going back tbh #mike wheeler

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17mujipens · 20 days

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i’m finally reading the poppy war trilogy and while i’ve got a lot of thoughts and opinions and all that. but. the whole “me, my military academy fwb (frenemy with benefits) situationship, his dilf of a dad who i have a psychosexual relationship with and the spirit of the one that got away who’s haunting us” thing in the dragon republic is killing me

#compels me though #there’s also ‘my lieutenant who was in love with my the one that got away’ and #‘my platonic soulmate who’s a sunshine (he’s actively drawing up plans to terrorise the enemy as hard as possible)’#really encouraging me to write interpersonal relationships weirder in my own work tbh #the poppy war #the dragon republic #laila.txt

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27-royal-teas · 7 months

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look but it’s the connection between Pete writing a book called gray and the video for takes over breaks over and the motif of black and white he has, and then you contrast that with Patrick’s synesthesia and the color he sees in music, like, he adds the color to Pete’s grey, he adds color to the words— and Pete saying that they are soulmates and truly they are because Patrick adds color to Pete’s world and idk?? am I getting this message across properly do you understand what I’m saying?

#tbh I’ve been wanting to write a soulmate au for a while.#might do a color related one at some point…#toby speaks #peterick

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nat-20s · 4 months

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Something happened to Donna Noble in her Year That's Wasn't. Sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, she's can see the glowing white thread connecting her to her soulmate. She just wishes she knew why it was always leading to the stars.

#i think about soulmate aus for the doctor and donna a lot and i go a little bit batty tbh <3 #doctor who #tennant doctor #donna noble #might turn this into a drawing. if i can ever figure out how to draw again <3 #also if anyone sees this and wants to expand on it PLEASE send it to me so i can eat it

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boundinparchment · 7 months

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Dream a Little Dream of Me - XLIX

Celestia had a cruel sense of humor. He knew this, even before his days as a student. But to be given a soulmate? Now, when he openly blasphemed against the cursed island in the sky? He would outlive you and the dreadful fated bond that haunted your shared dreams. There was little point in this. He could at least put a Vision to good use. People were nothing but disappointments. He had no use for you. Until you pulled the bow across your instrument and awoke a part of him long buried by self-hatred and arrogance. Soulmate AU; Il Dottore/Female reader w/ established personality and backstory. Slow burn. Lore and world speculation and interpretation within; follows canon story where possible. Rated Explicit; MDNI. Mind the tags. Chapter also posted on AO3; accessible to registered users only.

Rare were the moments when your hand reached out beneath the sheets and comforters and found not only warmth but the source of it. Sunlight began to bleed through the cracks in the drapes, dawn grazing the mountainside like a forlorn lover. You rolled over and, in the dim light, found dilated crimson eyes already watching you.

You slipped your hand out of the sanctuary of the covers and traced the lines of Zandik’s jaw and neck. He shifted slightly under your touch and, as if on instinct, your feet and legs tangled with his. Half-awake, your breath hitched when you moved even closer, acutely aware of the precarious position of his thigh between yours and how little your nightwear did when your breasts pressed against his chest.

“Usually you’re up by now,” you murmured.

Zandik’s voice was laced with sleep, his chuckle more like a low rumble in his chest as his hand found your hair and played idly with a stray lock.

“I am discovering these moments are not to be taken for granted,” he replied.

“Perfect for observation, you mean.”

He turned his head and pressed his lips to the inside of your wrist as your fingers grazed the hairline of his temple. You felt the twitch of the corner of his mouth and soft breath against your skin.

“Observation implies a lack of practical application. One of which happens to be that, for once, my thoughts are sharper, full of clarity when I’m around you. They were loud before, intrusive; the Segments and Omega muddled everything and for so long, I could not understand how or even if you were meant to find a place with me.”

The revelation was not entirely new. You were already aware of the deep-rooted sentiments and bias he held against the very fabric that kept you two together. Nonetheless, to hear it spoken tugged at your essence and warmth flooded through your chest. Your fingers reached and grazed at teal curls, as if you could hold this moment in your hands, keep it safe.

"This is different for you," you said softly. "Borderline romantic."

"I've been known to be charming from time to time."

You gave a skeptical hum, answered only by the careful graze of lips against yours and an arm ensnaring your waist. Heat flooded through you, running from your cheeks to your stomach, curling lower as your heart skipped. One kiss gave way to another, and then another, a hunger long buried awakening as you brushed your tongue against Zandik’s, deepening the kiss and unwilling to part.

This was so much better than the exploratory fragments of dreams before you saw his eyes. Better than the languid brushes of fingers and mingled breaths, long discussions that made you dizzy and left an ache behind when you woke.

An ache that accompanied a growing eagerness you wished wasn’t accompanied by a pang of shame and mingled with so many other memories impossible to tell apart.

More, more, more. You craved more. You craved him. Agency was yours, all you had to do was—

Leveraging your heel behind Zandik’s calf, you closed the remaining distance, pressing yourself against his thigh. You shuddered at the pressure against the clothed apex of your thighs, your wet heat searing despite the layers between you; his pants were tight and it was impossible to ignore that he too was eager. For a moment Zandik tensed, one of his hands beneath you on your waist as the other splayed across your lower back.

“I have been exceedingly curious about how else we fit together,” he whispered before he kissed you again, sucking slightly on your lower lip. “I have not found accurate accounts that do not devolve into poetic nonsense.”

It was your turn to smirk when you shifted your hips and pressed yourself further against him, friction sending a jolt through your aching core. The hand on your back exerted pressure and you bucked at the sweet jolt that ran through you. His member twitched.

You would be lying if you said you, too, were not intrigued. The mechanics were well-known, understood. But the sensations that arose in his presence, at his touch, were unconventional and akin to nothing describable except a grounding bliss. To experience what laid beyond that, to reclaim it, sang like a siren’s song.

Lips captured yours again, the kiss full of fervor, before they traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck. You gasped and bucked as he found the sensitive spot beneath your ear and in the curve near your shoulder.

“But I am not so eager that I would overlook the notion that patience is well-rewarded. For both of us.”

You swallowed a moan and pushed it to the back of your throat as the hand on your waist ghosted over your stomach and the curve of your breast, stopping to trace a circle around your nipple. His hand hovered, cupping the soft flesh only once before continuing up to dip beneath the neckline of your sleepwear. Your skin tingled as Zandik grazed the other side of your neck and collarbone, the area sensitive, untouched by most. Instinctively, you arched your back as you rolled your hips against his thigh; you were rewarded with the beginnings of a familiar low heat curling, tightening, and a soft cry escaped your lips in recognition.

No, no, you couldn’t...not without…

Reaching between you, your hand searched and found his hardness, his pants tight. You angled your hand to touch him through the fabric, palm against his length, but your muscles twitched with hesitation. Zandik’s hand left your collarbone and covered yours as he guided your hand down his member and back up through his pants.

“I don’t want to...not if you don’t…” you gasped. “Not fair…”

“You and your sense of fairness, rooh 'albi,” Zandik teased. He smirked before he kissed you again. “Not everything is so direct. Try again. Consider this akin to sight-reading.”

You nodded and Zandik let go of your hand. Slowly your fingers danced along his waistband and traced the hard planes of his abdomen. Further up, his chest, just as solid. Neither were incredibly defined but instead were the kind of muscle that came from use, not vanity exercises. In the dreams, when either of you attempted this, you never truly touched one another; you were only left with the vague sensation of being touched, like an echo of a shout in a cavern.

The goal of sight-reading was to feel the notes, get a sense of the rhythm and how one movement flowed into the next. You tried to sense the slight muscle twitch when your touch delved too far to the side or the sharp intake of breath when you grazed Zandik’s tricep, tracing the lines of muscle and earning a soft groan. He fought back a shudder when you went lower, brushing what you could reach of his forearm.

He was quiet as you continued your exploration, save the occasional change in his breathing that told you to try to recreate both the sound and the sensation.

Your fingers found their way across the expanse of his shoulders and upper back, feather-light as they ran up the back of his neck and traced his hairline. He shifted, rolling his head slightly, almost like a cat. Curious, you ran your fingers through his hair and he inhaled stiffly before he gave a soft exhale through his nose, as if working to keep himself quiet. You tried again, fingers seeking and this time keeping a slightly firmer hold as you gently tugged.

Zandik’s lips parted in a breathy gasp as the hand on your back pressed you back against his thigh, your desirous ache returning full force. Your knee, the one tucked between his legs, was precariously pressed against his member, his hips rolling twice in search of friction.

The sun had long since slipped through the seam in the drapes in full-force, bathing the room in a muted sea of golden light. It was well past when either of you usually awoke. Your head snapped towards the bedroom rooms closing the space off from the rest of the suite. Just beyond, you could hear breakfast being arranged by the dedicated staff member who always brought the food straight from the kitchen.

“To be continued another time,” Zandik whispered against your lips.

You untangled yourselves slowly, against either of your wishes, the chill in the room doing nothing for your burning desire. As you attempted to smooth your hair and wrapped yourself in a dressing gown, you couldn’t help but wonder what might have occurred had your morning routine not continued on its usual schedule.

Would your mind have cooperated? Or would your body have reacted on instinct, vision glazing over as you recognized the ceiling, knew the number of tiny motifs carved into the plaster high above? Would you have struggled to breathe as you willed your mind to separate Zandik from Omega from…

Something warm touched you and you flinched, coming to your senses as you recognized Zandik, half-dressed in front of you. Amusement as your still-recovering form barely masked the concern creasing his brow.

“ ...are you truly that dazed, my dear?”

“What if we can never...?”

The words left your lips before you fully formed the thought, the fear gripping you as you gestured to your head. What if you could never give neither of you that experience, that closure, that bliss? If you took the false memories out of the equation, who was to say you would fare any differently?

You tried, once or twice, although never with fellow musicians; it was never successful, never satisfying. Never like the teasing licks of fire that you felt with Zandik.

He stepped closer and tilted his head. His hand fixed the strand of hair tickling your face before resting against your cheek. You hardly ever felt his touch without his gloves and this would be the last time, at least for today.

“Omega pursued what he wanted regardless of boundaries. I have my faults but even I’m not capable of such acts,” he said. “We don’t have to until you’re ready, if you ever are. There are plenty of alternatives and I am never without the means nor drive to find more.”

“Thank you,” you said , the words caught in your throat.

You closed your eyes as a beat passed. Zandik wavered for a moment and then leaned forward to press a parting kiss to your forehead.

“As I said before, patience is something I have in abundance. It is never conducive to be fatalistic.”

Warmth blossomed between the syllables and sat in your chest to replace his lingering touch before the morning chill could snatch it away again.

#dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore/female reader #il dottore/female reader #dottore x female reader #il dottore x female reader #genshin impact reader insert #soulmate au #mdni #minors dni #minors look away #this is the chapter that jumps the rating to cover my bases later on #Idk how to tag this tbh #Heavy petting?????#thigh riding?????#they want to but don’t???#There’s nothing in here that’s actually The Act but damn do they want to

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