part 1 - "Oh, I Can Do This All Night Long." || part 2 - [ only if you don't judge me. ]
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pairing: spider-man x f!reader
warnings: this one is ANGSTY. sorry not sorry ^^; This part is all sad no fluff. Maybe the next part will be better...
word count: 1.4k
summary: In another timeline where you’re psychologically connected to the physical pain your soulmate receives- you start to question just who your soulmate could possibly be, and how they’re even alive.
a/n: part three!! do the people want smut in this series or should I keep it to fluff and angst?? I don't mind either way. :) this was based on my own headcanoned version of Andrew Garfield’s peter, post TASM2 before NWH please enjoy! ~ Verdi🌻💜
Since you’d moved in, Peter had insisted on sleeping on the couch in the living room and letting you have his bedroom. You hadn’t asked, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer anyway. The apartment wasn’t very big, and there was only one bathroom- but you felt right at home regardless.
You couldn’t help but notice that nine out of ten times you managed to get out of bed, Peter wasn’t home. Even in the middle of the night. You joked with Aunt May that you’d seen him more often before you moved in than now. Every time he came home, though, he would always check on you first. Every time he did that, you could’ve sworn your stomach flipped. He was really so sweet, and even though you two had this weird arrangement, it was still so nice of him to dote on you like that.
One night when you were feeling okay, you heard him come home and waited for him to come see you...but he didn’t. Something nagged at your chest, telling you to not worry about it, but you couldn’t help yourself. You got out of bed and walked into the living room, but you didn’t see him.
“Pete..?” Your voice was a little groggy and thick with sleep as you called out softly. You looked around, but it wasn’t as if there were a lot of places to hide. Especially in such a small room. You pouted a little, determining you must’ve misheard before going back to bed.
Peter had been watching you closely since you moved in, tracking your good and bad days, but he didn’t say anything about it. Even so, he was sure he figured it out.
When you turned to go back into the bedroom, you were face-to-face with Spider-Man. You almost screamed, but he covered your mouth. Not forcefully, not in an upset way, but almost in a gentle way. A caring way. “Shhh...it’s 3 in the morning.”
Your eyes were wide, staring into the eyes of his mask, darting back and forth from different points of his mask because you couldn’t decide where to lay your gaze. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and gave a small nod. As you did, he removed his hand, instead sliding one hand to your waist to help you stay upright.
“Hey...” It sounded like he was smiling beneath the suit.
“...Hi.” Your brows furrowed a little as you kept your intense stare on him.
His other hand moved to grab yours gently, leading you back into the bedroom as he closed the door and sat you down on the edge of the bed. You followed wordlessly. Clearly, he was antsy to say something, and so you wanted to leave him the space to do so.
As soon as you were sat, he dropped down to his knees beside you, putting his hands on your leg gently. “Uhm...” Suddenly, he seemed more shy than he had during your interviews. You quirked a brow, looking down to him. Your hands stayed in your lap for the moment, but they wanted badly to touch him. “I need to tell you something.”
“I gathered...”
“Right.”
“Right.”
He looked away, his grip on your leg tightening just a little before he moved to look back up to you again. Before he could even start his semi-prepared speech, your hands found his shoulders. Then they trailed up his neck, and then finally, you found the gap between the mask and the suit. He tensed, but he let you continue. You stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to stop you, for him to beg you not to, but he didn’t.
You dug your fingertip beneath the fabric, getting a good grip as you began to pull it up. The mask was wet with sweat and blood, and it made you flinch a little when you felt how it was sticking to his skin.
“Are you sure?” You asked, your breaths deep and ragged. He took his hand and held your wrist, but nodded.
The suspicions had been there, but the confirmation still felt like the air had been punched right out of your lungs. “Peter...” Your voice was trembling as you held the mask tightly in both hands. You didn’t know what to do other than to stare.
“Hey...soulmate.”
His eyes looked tired, his lip was busted and bleeding, his face was dirty, and his hair was slick with sweat. And your heart was pounding beneath your ribs. Your mind raced with all the negative things you’d said about your soulmate to Peter, not knowing it was him, obviously. How long had he known? He was still keeping you around. You weren’t sure what to feel...You’d already said you didn’t want to ever meet your soulmate. But...you did really like Peter. All the pain you’d felt from his fighting, though...most days it was unbearable. And when it was, there would still be a dull throbbing pain all over you.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally willed some words from your throat.
“How long...have you known..?” You rubbed your thumbs into the fabric of the mask, fidgeting as you watched how his eyes stayed on you.
“I...had an idea. Before I asked you to marry me.” He admitted, cheeks flush. Even beneath the carnage of the fight he’d been in, he still had that boyish shyness. “It just solidified when...when I saw you every day...”
“When you saw me...unable to get out of bed?” You ask, a little more mean than you meant for it to sound. Your head cocked to the side as you continued. “When you saw me too sore to even take care of myself..? Or when you saw me digging around my backpack to see if I had any loose painkillers left?” There was a sharp edge to your words, a bite you couldn’t hold back. You felt a little selfish for thinking this way...but when it affected your daily life as badly as it had, it was hard not to.
He listened to you, not even trying to hide himself away from your venom. He just...stared. His eyes were full of compassion, maybe a twinge of sadness or guilt. You didn’t even realise you were crying until he lifted up his palm to your cheek and used his thumb to wipe your tears away.
“I’m so-”
You cut him off with your words.
“You knew you were hurting me, but you still go out there every night.” Your voice was so quiet, as if you didn’t even want him to hear you. Your eyes fixated on something on the wall instead of on him. Looking at him was only upsetting now.
It took him a moment to reply. “I...I can’t...not...do this.” He finally said, matching the softness of your tone. “I can’t. I have to. I-I-I...I have these powers...I can’t not use them.”
He sounded genuinely worried, his hands moving frantically as he kept speaking. He gripped a little at the fabric of your pants before looking back up to you with big brown pleading eyes. You stayed quiet for a few moments longer, but then let out a soft sigh.
“Can you...at least try not to get so hurt?”
Peter laughed a little bit, his cheeks flushing as he did. “I never intend to get hurt.”
You weren’t as amused as he was with his answer, and he frowned.
“What now..?” He asked, moving his hands up to your thigh as he rested his chin on your knee, still looking up to you- trying to meet your eyes even though you kept evading his gaze.
“Now...” You started softly, placing one hand in his hair and finally meeting his eyes again. “You’ll go sleep on the couch, and I’ll stay in this bed until opening my eyes doesn’t make me feel nauseous.”
He looked like he wanted to protest, like he wanted to try and stay and fix this but...he’d bothered you enough. Your chest tightened, seeing him like that, so defeated looking, so sad looking...You moved your hand from his hair back to the mask, picking it up off your lap and handing it to him instead.
“Good night, Peter.”
He stayed a moment longer, looking at your face still, before pressing a kiss to your knee and finally moving to get up and leave the room. He walked out slowly, as if he were waiting for you to stop him. But you didn’t.
“Good night.”
The door closed. And now you were alone to try and piece together your thoughts. Everything you’d been thinking...it was true. It was real. And it was more painful than the dull roar of your ribcage.
A/N: @stygianoir thank you for the lovely request🩵
A/N #2: I used Google translation for the Russian translations. My apologies if I got anything wrong.
Translations: doll - кукла |
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buck-star / divider made by me
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
You could literally be doing anything and Bucky can always easily pick you up and manhandle you any time he wants. You don’t mind when he does that. You like it when he does that.
“I want you.” Bucky almost whispers, kissing just below your ear.
“Then take me as you please. I’m yours.” You say softly.
Those two words “I’m yours.” always make him go feral. Bucky picks you up and threw you over his shoulder, playfully smacking your ass, making you giggle softly. He takes you down the hall to yours and his bedroom and drops you on the bed, your body bouncing on the mattress. You took off your -his- t-shirt as he spreads your legs open and gets in between them, hovering over you.
“You’re so cute and small.” Bucky almost whispers as he kisses along your neck.
He says that almost every time he’s about to go down on you. His hands tugged off your shorts and panties, tossing them on the floor. Bucky kisses down your stomach and lays down on his stomach in between your thighs, his hands caressing your thighs as he kisses the inside of them. A shiver went through your body when you felt his breath on your pussy. He wraps his arms around your thighs when he started eating you out like a starved man.
“Bucky…” You moaned softly, reaching down to put your hand on his head.
Your head fell back against the mattress and your eyes closed, enjoying the pleasure you’re receiving from Bucky.
“Eyes on me, doll face.” Bucky says gruffly.
You opened your eyes and looked down at him, making eye contact with him. His eyes weren’t the blue you’re used to seeing. His eyes were dark like the Winter Soldier right now. You knew it was him, but you wanted to be sure
“Winter?” You asked breathlessly, wondering if it’s him or if Bucky’s eyes are just darkened with lust.
“It’s me, кукла.” The Winter Soldier says.
A loud moan left your lips when his tongue licked from your entrance to your clit, your hips bucking against his face. He pressed his hand against your stomach, holding you down so you couldn’t move. He rapidly flicks his tongue against your clit.
“Oh fuck! Yes! Winter! Bucky!” You moaned, not sure what name to moan out so you both names.
You could feel pressure deep inside of you. Like you’re about to cum any second. You can feel it. You’re right there. You know you’re right there, because your legs started trembling around his head and arms.
“I- fuck! I- please!” You moaned.
“Cum for me, кукла.” Winter says gruffly against your pussy.
He did not left up on rapidly flicking his tongue on your clit. A loud pornographic moan left your mouth as you came harder than you think you ever have, squirting on his face. Your body convulses a bit.
“Atta girl.” Bucky praises.
He gave your pussy one last lick before sitting up on his knees in between your legs. His hands rub the tops of your thighs as you caught your breath.
“You ok, babydoll?” Bucky asks softly.
“Mhmm, yea.” You answered and nodded your head after a few seconds.
Bucky got off of the bed to strips off his clothes and gets back on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you onto your stomach, lifting your hips so your ass was sticking out towards him. Bucky wraps his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before rubbing it in your slick. Bucky lines his cock at your soaked entrance, slowly sliding his cock inside of you, inch by inch. He leans down and places soft kisses along the back of your shoulders, giving you a moment to adjust to his size.
“Bucky…” You moan softly, letting him know that he can start moving.
Bucky leans back up and starts thrusting, placing his hands on your hips and slide them upwards to your waist, gently caressing your sides.
“Fuck…” Bucky moans. “Look at you. So small beneath me.” He rasps.
He pulls you back to meet his thrusts as he fucks you. His thrusts feel rough, but they’re not to feel like that. It’s more of fast than rough. His thrusts are also loving. You can feel it. So can he.
“You’re mine. All mine.” Bucky says possessively, the Winter Soldier coming out a bit.
“I’ll always be yours, Buck.” You say softly.
One of his hands leaves your side and slides up to the back of your neck. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck with a firm grip and pulls you upwards so your back was against his chest. He turns your head towards him just enough to kiss you. The kiss was a mix of passion and possessiveness. You love those kinda of kisses. You reach a hand up, putting your hand on the back of his head to deepen the kiss. Your fingers tugged on his long hair, making him moan into your mouth.
Bucky wraps his metal arm around your waist to hold you against him. The cool metal of his arm feels good against your heated skin. His free hand snakes down your body to your clit, rubbing it at a decent pace. You broke the kiss, parting your lips as a loud moan left them. You leaned your head back against his shoulder. He places soft kisses along your neck before marking you up.
“You’re all mine.” He says possessively again, licking the hickey he just put on your neck.
Your hips bucked against his hand as he sped up the rubbing on your clit. Your legs began to tremble like they did moments ago. You can feel the good kind of pressure deep down inside you. Your orgasm was coming upon you faster than it did the first time.
“You gonna cum, doll?” Bucky asks softly in your ear.
“Yes! Oh, yes!” You moaned.
“Cum for me, pretty girl.” He says.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a pornographic moan left your lips as you soaked his cock.
“There you go. Good girl.” He praises, giving your clit one more rub. “Such a good girl for me.” He praises again.
Bucky’s metal arm remains around your waist and places soft kisses along your shoulders as he focuses on his own orgasm. His thrust came to a halt as he came inside of you, a low groan leaving his lips as he came.
“Fuck…” Bucky breathes.
He slowly pulls out of you and gently lays you down on the bed. He lays down next to you, facing you. His fingers traces small patterns on your hip as you two caught your breath.
“You’re so gorgeous.” He compliments softly.
You hummed softly and leaned your head forward, kissing him softly.
Type: One-Shot (First part- Drabble) {If you want things to make sense you probably should read it, the first part, 😁😁😁}
Pairing: Fem! Student! and Soulmate! Reader x Damian Wayne/Robin
AU: Soulmate! Reader
Content: Swearing, angst, teenage stupidity, aged up kiddos 16/17, technical talk about soulmates, lowkey frustrations, some much angst yall, some fluff, mythology, toxic parents, and soul crushing
Word Count: 7,233
(P.S: Okay so this is going to be continuing from the I Feel a Sin Coming On drabble, I've been getting a few comments on it asking for a part two and someone sent in a request for a Shy and Smart Student! Reader with Damian and let's just say the gears in my head started turning. Anyways this could go on if you guys want it to, but it could also end like this! It will break you. I hope you all enjoy! :D)
While, unfortunately, it's true the somewhat cruel existence of soul mates was around and kicking, love- true love was still there. Or at least it was believed to be there. It supposedly thrived even more for some reason. Some speculated that it was because there was a standing of everyone deserving love. Whether they were good or bad or in-between, they got someone who would love them for the rest of their life regardless of all the mistakes they made or continue to make. Others said it was because the universe deemed people good enough to have someone for the rest of their lives. Which seems a little close minded for a society in which everyone has a soulmate. But maybe that was because of the belief that if things didn’t work out with your soulmate- if you didn’t love them as you should or didn’t get the love you thought you deserved- it was because you weren’t good enough. Weren’t good enough to get the right kind of love. But in the end soulmates do exist. They exist and are for everyone. For each person you pass on the road, there is someone out there for them. Just as there's someone out there for you.
But the daunting notion that you have to be the right kind of good to get your perfect love chilled you to the bone. After all, if it wasn’t perfect what did that say about you? Because in the end weren’t they made for you? Maybe that’s why some still believed in true love, that it was real. Both because of and not because of soulmates. Rather because of the concept. Someone made just for you. Even if that person was flawed-if you are flawed, just as they were made for you, you were made for them. But sometimes, what is made for you can harm you a lot more than what’s not.
It was why you believed that the reason true love might still exist was actually because some people fell for their soulmate before they realized they were fated to be. Before that dreaded bond-that agonizing pull kicked, of their own free will they fell in love. Because they didn't have to suffer through the pull of a bond they never wanted, these people were blissfully ignorant of what forced love was like. They did not know the horrors of those forced to stay with someone their heart loved but mind did not. And despite all your animosity towards soulmates, despite your fear and hatred, what made this all the worse-all the more ironic-was that you were technically one of those people.
Before you even knew what a soulmate was to you-before you were old enough to recognize the pull, to feel, it’s dark and fervent demand for attention-you fell for him. For his laugh: in the way he tilted his chin back as if trying to suppress its joyous sound and his smile: in the way the corners of his would curve showing a slight dimple in his left cheek and revealing the softness his eyes could have. For his kindness: in the way he disregarded what others said and lived his life freely as himself despite the demand of society for him to be like the rest-to be normal. For his mortality: in the way he would never allow bullies to pick on others around him, even if he thought they needed to toughen up. But most importantly for the way he tried each and every single day to learn more and be better even if you’re the only one who noticed. For the way he seemed to be all what you dreamed, something that should have caused you suspicion but instead drew you in.
That is until your 13th birthday and, much like many before you, you felt the tug of that dreaded bond.
You were six when you decided to loathe soulmates. Six when you swore on your very soul- your existence that you would never love your soulmate. You swore to live in misery of your own making rather than fates. No matter who they were, you would hate them.
But fate... well fate hated to be tested. So, fate did the worst thing it could. It made you fall for the one person you swore never to.
Your soulmate.
Your very own soulmate who seemed like the only light in the dark and suddenly you began questioning whether or not these feelings- these emotions you had thought were your own and genuine- were actually yours. Or if they were just fate pulling its strings and making you dance and dance and dance.
To say you were upset was an understatement and... well let's just say fate might be prideful, but you were twice as petty.
At age thirteen you shoved the emotions you had so dearly cherished so deep in your chest they seemed like nothing more than echoes of naive mind. You distanced yourself from him and only let yourself feel in your loneliest of moments.
Four years, it had nearly been four years since you had begun your battle against fate. And- and and fate was getting stronger... as you have been told. The older you get- the closer you are to your soulmate, the stronger the bond is.
Those moments... those lonely moments happened more often, and those stupid annoying emotions rose up with the beating of your traitorous heart.
Which is exactly how you ended up in the last place you ever wanted to be. Face to face with your soulmate... with them recognizing you and what you were to them.
"I'm your soulmate." Damian Fucking Wayne said his eyes locked on you as you felt your heart jump to your throat and all the color drain from your face.
"Fucking shit, " You whispered, unable to break his gaze.
Shaking-hand shaking and heart pounding at your rib cage demanding you acknowledge him-that you give in and tell him he’s right. That you are soulmates and let fate drive you. But there was something fate and your treasonous heart seemed to forget. You were one petty bitch.
Weakly smiling you let out a nervous laugh and turned, avoiding eye contact. Eyes darting around they finally settled on your bare wrist as your other hand scrambled to gather your things against your trembling chest.
"Oh- my,” Your voice cracked as you shoved your things into your bag, “would you look at the time! I need to get going."
Fingers racing over the items in your bag you went to zip it close and make your escape when your eyes rested on your final item. The book you were reading earlier. Which just so happened (damn you fate) to be right in front of Damian. Eyes raising to him, gazes latching for just a moment you did the one thing you should not. You looked down, down and back at your book before making the stupidly impulsive decision to lunge for it. Your fingers brushed the cover, nails barely scraping lines into it when a hand-warm and firm clasped around your wrist. Pulling you back towards the table in a quick tug that caused your stomach to slam against the tables side. Wincing you stabbed your nails into your palm, not daring to look up. You had fallen for his trap, the oh so obvious trap you could have avoided had you just not looked at him.
"I'm your soulmate," He said again, his voice clear and stanch as he gently pulled on your arm, clearly trying to get you to meet his eyes, "and you are mine."
Soulmate- God why did you have to care about him. Why- why-did it have to be him? Why-
why couldn’t fate just leave you alone?
Something about the tone of his voice made your heart shatter. It was almost desperate, but you couldn’t-you couldn’t allow yourself to be weak. After all, you would not let fate win. Petty- you were so violently petty and prideful- oh even fate knew this yet- it still tried... this- you wouldn't let this stand. You could-no would not allow fate to get away with even attempting this. Taking a breath in-a deep breath- you raised your chin. Steadying your mind with the thoughts of your parents, of how you needed to be around them. Calm, poised, emotionless. Ignoring the well of tears in your throat and the pressure behind your eyes you finally met his gaze.
Green. All you could see was those beautiful green eyes, wide and desperate. Yearning-yearning for you to give a reply. But the one you were about to give would only hurt those eyes, regardless, it needed to be done. One pain- one moment or time of pain and sorrow was far better than a life of them.
Slowly letting out the breaths you previously let in you tilted your head, feeling his grip on your wrist lightening.
“I do not have a soulmate," You began instantly seeing the surprise on his face-the confusion, so you continued, “I won’t have one. Not you. Not anyone. You see, I don't believe in soulmates. So, I do believe you are mistaken.”
His grip dropped but seeing the broken look on his face made your facade crumble in an instant as your heart screamed to stop. To comfort him. To take back your words and press yourself into his arms. But you were smarter than that, even if you weren’t strong enough to hide the tears anymore. Throat bobbing, you felt your mouth tremble as your eyes stung and something warm began spilling down your cheeks.
Pulling yourself away from him, you smiled a bitter smile, not even daring to acknowledge the tears you were shedding. Head high, you turned.
Voice cracking, you bid farewell, “Now, if you excuse me, I have to get going.”
Feet scrambling you nearly dashed out the door, leaving the book that got you into this mess behind. After all, it was now only going to hold harish and painful memories.
As soon as your feet touched the gravel, you ran. Tears freely spilled down your cheeks and you sobbed and panted. Mind trying it’s best to soothe the heart that had just torn itself into pieces. But there was nothing it could do. There was nothing you could do but cry and run. Run away from him. From all the pain you had and were going to feel. It was hell, yes. But at least it was yours. At least you knew how and why it had happened, at least you knew what was to come. At least you were still you right?
By the time you had finally calmed your tears-though your heart was still howling, you had made it home. Wiping your tears you took a deep breath in and held it, hoping it would steady your mind and breathing enough to face what was about to come. You hesitated for a moment, then let the breath out wiped your face again and walked up to the door. It was then you heard the shouting. The rage filled voices cursing at each other, dishes and shoes flying, shattering and knocking things about.
Hand trembling you pushed down the doorknob and walked in. The barrage of insults and dissonance of things being thrown slammed into you. Your feet shuffled across the floor as you saw the shadows in the kitchen, too caught up in their most recent argument to even acknowledge your existence-that is until they came into view.
“God you never listen!” Your father roared
“Better than sitting on my ass doing nothing all day!” Your mother countered
Quivering you slowly moved towards the staircase as their fight pushed into the living room. Your father’s hands waved as your mother rolled her eyes at him, arms crossed.
“Really that’s how you’re gonna be?”
“Yeah it is.”
“Fine then, I’ll just take this lazy ass of mine and leave!”
“GOOD!”
With that your father turned and stormed past you straight out the door, slamming it behind him. You flinched and turned to see your mother staring at you.
“Ugh! I can’t believe him,” She hissed before she shook her head, scowling, “absentee father, sitting on his ass all day while I make the money and take care of the needless kid. God, pregnant at 18- now married to that loser! My life went down the drain. If only it weren't for you...”
Those words stabbed at your heart, sinking in their little daggers in the spots they knew best. You knew she didn’t mean for you to hear them, but you always did. It wasn’t the first time you had heard things like this, but it did seem to hurt all the more due to what happened earlier this afternoon. Sniffing slightly, you lowered your head and your voice cracking as you had to fight off more tears whimpered,
“I’m sorry mom.”
As if a flip switched your mom’s brown furrowed and scowl dropped. She looked you over, concern in her eyes and she took a step forward.
“Are you okay honey? You don’t sound too good.”
Raising your head you tightly smiled and nodded, “Of course, just stressed cuz of school. I’ve got some exams coming up and it’s causing my emotions to be all over the place.”
She nodded eyes raving over you, resentment heavy in them as she plopped onto the couch with sigh, “Okay, you better be doing good in school alright? Don't want you to end up like that louse of man your father is.”
You nodded again, “Of course! Actually I was about to go and study.”
“Good, you do that.” She replied as she picked up the remote and flipped on the T.V.
You paused, for just a moment watching her as the resentment began to slide from her eyes, her face softening. She was so pretty, yet harsh lines from constant scowls and frowns bore their way onto her cheeks. Line surrounded her eyes from the tears and sleepless nights. And it was all because of you. Turning, your hands tight on your bag, you raced up the stairs, dashing towards your room where you collapsed onto the ground the second the door was closed. Hand against your face you pressed your head against the door and bit your lip. You did not have the luxury of more tears.
Turning you found yourself looking at your own reflection. The combination of your mother and father. The perfect combination. It made you wonder what they saw when they looked at you. Did they see a reflection of themselves? Or just an echo of the person they loathed to love. You knew for a fact they never saw you, just you. It was always tied with one or the other. You could tell because today your mother avoided your eyes, that was because you had your father’s eyes. So today, she must have seen him in you. At least until your hair covered your face-her hair- and she saw herself. Maybe that’s why she softened; you didn’t truly know. They loved you, yes. But only because they saw themselves in you. Because on the good days, they saw each other. Because in a way you were them. What hurt the most though, was not when they saw each other or themselves in you. But the fact that they would never see you. And if your parents, the people who were supposed to love you the most, the people who brought you into this world could never see you, who could?
It had nearly been a week since you last saw and denied being soulmates with Damian Wayne. In said period you spent your free time dodging Damian and all his friends as well as digging your nose into every soulmate lore, history or origin you could find. While you didn’t want a soulmate, that didn’t mean Da- you soulmate should suffer because of it. So, you had made it your mission to discover if there was any way you could break the bond now. Research had told you that if one party ignored the bond for long enough it would fade for the other. But you didn’t know how long that would take and merely telling Damian you weren’t soulmates tore you up so badly that the mere sight of him sends you into tears. Therefore, you needed to find a way to break the bond. Both for yourself and for Damian.
But as far as you could tell it was impossible. Every single myth, origin and lore of soulmates explained them as the other half of each other, inseparable even incomplete without the other. Part of you hated that thought. That you were incomplete without your soulmate. Because weren’t you a person, able to function live, laugh and love all on your own? Without a soulmate? Only Greek mythology even considers you as whole without your soulmate. Though it does say that they are meant to be together and once they meet they will not want to part. Which did not read well for your plans. In Chinese mythology there was the Red String or Red Thread of Fate
A tangible string, perhaps it was something that could be broken. But from what you read it could not, at least you could not cut it or tear it with your hands. It cannot be broken. It cannot be broken. It can-
Taking a deep breath in, you rubbed your brow. It didn’t really make sense to you that the string or thread or whatever it was couldn’t be broken. It also didn’t make sense that a soulmate was to be bound to you for life. Logically speaking there had to be a loophole. Afterall no one feels their bond until they are thirteen. If you were truly bound for life, you would always feel it. Therefore, there must be a workaround. A way to break the bond or someone- or someone to break it- to remove it.
Since it is not there from the beginning it cannot be like in the Greek, Jewish or Hindu myths. But it might be connected to that string of fate theory. And there was one person who you could think of that might be able to remove or break the bond. The very person who put it there. And if the Chinese myth is right it’s Yuè Xià Lăorén or Yuè Lăo. But as far as you could tell no one was meeting old men at night right before their thirteenth birthday.
It felt like a lost cause. You doubted anyone actually ever seriously tried to break their soulmate bond. No one ever seemed to have your determination or rather stubbornness. Most people would have surely given up by now, but you desperately needed a way. Because despite how much you hated it, how much it made you hate yourself. You couldn’t help but love him. And it terrified you.
Your parents started out in love and now they were-... it’d be difficult to say what they had was anything other than torture. Day in day out fighting. Yelling and screaming. Shouting. Such anger at someone they were supposed to love. It made you wonder, were they really in love? Were they really supposed to be each other's happy ever after? Each other's eternity? If so, what did that mean for you? Did that mean you were doomed to be stuck in the same cycle of love turning to hate? Did that mean that you were going to lose a love you always told you had? Did that mean that you were going to die unloved? It was a fear- your biggest if you were being honest. That the person who was supposed to love you forever, doesn’t really love you. And you could take the chance. Not with what you knew- what you’d seen. There was no way in hell you were ever going to let that happen.
It was truly unfortunate that you just so happened to have a mother deeply involved in her job. One that resulted in her dragging you to a gala because she needed to show she had the perfect little family. What a joke. A cosmic joke as said gala was happening at none other than Wayne manor. And its host? You guessed it, Bruce Wayne himself with his gaggle of children all in attendance. How did you know this? Well, your eye caught one of the many children. The one you were trying your hardest to avoid.
Damian Mother Fucking Waye.
And it seems you caught his eye as well, because the second he looked in your direction his face lit up. That is until you turned away from him, the next you saw the color drained from his face and he practically stormed out of the room. Though any random bystander would have thought he calmly exited, you knew better. Which was valid considering you had basically spit in his face and said he wasn’t good enough. But it still hurts. Nowadays it seems that everything hurts. Though it was all probably due to the bond you were so determined to reject.
So, to dull the pain you clung to the walls of the ballroom. Heavily nursing the glass of champagne you snagged from an unassuming waiter. It had been probably close to two hours since you arrived and you hadn’t even gotten halfway through it, however you most definitely did not want your parents to see. You were underaged and they wanted to keep their ‘perfect’ image intact. Which is partially the reason why when the people began to make their rounds around the ballroom, you decided to slip out. Though you abandon your drink, you thought wandering around the manor’s halls might help you relax even if it was only a little bit.
Wandering down the darkened corridors you listened to the faint music that trailed after you as you got further and further away from the ballroom. Night encompassing each hallway you turned down it wasn’t long till the sounds of the strings playing was nothing more than a faint humming like the buzz of a fly. Darkness and silence swallowed the area-well near silence. The creaking and settling of the manor seemed to be the only sound. That is until you hear a clattering and an all too familiar voice cursing in another language.
Maybe, it was due to the slight buzz those sips of champagne gave you-maybe it was the exhaustion from the days of fighting off your feelings-or maybe it was because the pull was just too strong; you walked towards the sound and pushed a door open to find a disheveled Damian Wayne sitting in on a couch, a bottle of whisky clutched in his hands, a crystal glass at his feet with half melted ice cubes surrounding it.
He did not seem to notice your presence, so you slowly began to venture closer. Noticing his messy hair, unbuttoned shirt and missing tie. Why did he have to look so damn beautiful? Better hearing his mutterings which were half in English, you pause to listen.
“Seems like Todd was correct,” He mumbled as a hiccup stalled his sentence, “this does improve everything… or perhaps not.”
His body shifted as he hiccuped again, and had you not seen it yourself you would not have believed that the high pitched sound came from him. It almost made you laugh, but you were able to restrain yourself and move closer. This time, it seems Damian heard you as his head snapped in your direction. He blinked a few times almost as if he was trying to get water from his eyes. Head tilting he narrowed his gaze, voice slurring as he asked, “Y/N?”
Sighing you nodded and walked even closer until you stood in front of him. Smiling slightly you waved and took a deep breath in before replying, “Hi Damian.”
He blinked more, brow furrowing as he muttered something you could not catch. Sinking deeper into the couch he gave you a blank look.
“So have you come to inform me of our ‘non-existent bond’? Because I assure you if you do not wish to discuss it with me I will leave it alone.”
You raised an eyebrow and crouched so you could be eye level with him. Meeting his eyes you found yourself once again admiring their beauty.
“Really? Then thank you. I appreciate that.” You paused concern stirring so strongly in your chest you couldn’t help but let the worry take hold, “ But I’m not here for that.”
Damian sat up glaring at you and you did not move, swallowing as he got a bit closer.
“Then what are you here for?”
“I’m worried about you.”
As if it was instinctual, he replied, “And who's fault is that.”
Though he winced afterwards despite you merely sighing at his comment. Resting your chin on your knees you gave him a sad smile and nodded.
“You’re right… I owe you an explanation.”
Heart in your throat you met his eyes again and asked, “Would you let me give you one?”
Silence thrummed between the two of you for a lot longer than you would have liked. His gaze not leaving your face as you took a deep breath in and let it out. You should have done this from the start and at the very least if things go awry he probably won't remember any of this.
His hand gesturing to the place next to him he said, “Sit.”
You snorted and rose to your feet. Then the seat next to him shifted a bit awkwardly before you turned to him. He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes as he took another swig from the bottle. It stung far more than you would ever admit seeing him like this. But- but it would fade. It will fade. He won’t be like this forever. He won’t.
“So… I should probably tell you why I don’t believe in soulmates.”
He grunted in reply, and you weakly laughed, “I-hmm… this is rather hard to explain. You see my parents are soulmates and they-”
You stopped yourself, watching as he stared across the room. Realizing that telling him about this was letting him in. And you could not let him in. Biting your lip you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut as you once again fought off tears.
“I really don’t like their relationship. I hate it. And and to me it seems everyone with a soulmate is miserable. They aren’t happy. Shouting, arguing, fighting. I will not risk the chance of being like my parents. I refuse.”
He was looking at you now. Brow furrowed and the bottle slipped between his fingers. Your voice cracked and you winced, swallowing as you shrugged.
“I- i am a coward. I refuse to take any chances because I don’t want to get hurt.”
The unspoken ever again hung on your lips as your parents' rage flashed through your mind. Fingers picking at one another you looked down. Unable to keep eye contact without crying.
“I’m scared and- and worried and and I- I’m so sorry. You deserve better and i-”
His hand was over your mouth and you blinked in confusion looking up to see him pinching his nose, bottle still in hand.
“Please silence your excuses.” Damian snapped, “I will not hear anyone talk about you that way.”
Something jolted in you and you froze, tears springing to your eyes, you nodded and he removed his hand. Fingers darting to wipe away tears you began to turn from him. His hand batted your fingers away and cupped one of your cheeks. The other still clutching the whiskey bottle half cupped the other. Damian pressed his forehead against yours and looked you in the eyes.
“I care not that you are a coward. I care not that you are running away. I understand your unease, I understand your logic. But I disagree. I can do no better than you, my soulmate. My other half. I will be here for you and will ease your fears, I will drive your worries away and treat your scars. Emotional or otherwise. I am here for you. I do not know what I have to do for you to understand I am yours. Whole and solely yours. As you are mine. Please- I beg you. Tell me what I must do for you to allow me to love you to my fullest capacity.”
Unable to look away, your heart taking control as that bitter bond turned soft and sweet you began to cry. Tears spilling down your face, you pressed your forehead more against his, words slipping from you before you could even think.
“Be forever mine and let me be forever yours,” You whispered.
Something softened in his eyes, a warmth in them you desperately wanted to see but hoped you never did. He began to lean in a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his hands shifted, the bottle falling from his grasps as he muttered,
“Was that ever in doubt?”
You tilted your head and his lips pressed against yours. He tasted of bitterness, a darkness that burned so sharply it had you clinging to him. Hands bunched in the cloth of his shirt you found yourself leaning in. His arm wrapped around your waist and as he pulled you in tighter, body shifting as he couldn’t get you close enough. As if there wasn’t a way to hold you where he was near enough. It was as if he wanted to shift-sinking-melting completely and totally into you.
Air, you had no air left, but who needed air? He was here. His touch gentle and constant, reassuring as he pressed against you, gripping you as if he was terrified the second he let you go, you would disappear. And he was right.
You broke apart both gasping for air and his grip loosened. Foreheads pressed against each other he smiled, a smile that sent your already raging heart racing. His hand rested against your cheek, fingers playing with your hair. Squeezing his eyes shut he muttered,
“I love you.”
Your heart skittered and-
Tug, there was a tug a mother fucking tug that made your whole-body ache. One that stole the air you had just barely regained. One that sent shivers up your spine and knocked some sense into you.
You couldn’t breathe. Standing up suddenly, your head spun. Blinking a few times as tears sprang into your eyes you shook your head.
“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry.”
And with that, you bolted from the room. Faintly hearing Damian calling after you, you rush down the hall brushing past a butler whose name you think is Alfred. He gives you a soft smile and you nod, quickly wiping away the tears. He paused but you kept moving. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of here now. No matter what it took.
Feet nearly tripping over the other you stumbled back into the ballroom. There would be hell to pay later, you knew it. But if you stayed any longer you could get hurt beyond repair. Allowing the feeling of everything that had just occurred loose, you promptly burst into tears as you stumbled towards your stunned parents. Your mother frantically moved to you as your father’s eyes widened and he began speaking to the people before them.
“Y/N, Y/N honey we’re in front of a lot of people. Can this wait?” Your mother whispered as she got closer.
Sniffling you collapsed into your mother’s arms, feeling her embrace again for the first time in nearly a decade. Trembling as sobs escaped you, you were able to get out.
“I want to go home. Please. Please. Let me go home.”
At first, she didn’t reply, then she began moving you towards the door.
“Alright. Alright. Let’s get you home.”
She did not even turn in your father’s direction. After all, they had done what they always do, taken separate cars. Unable to quell the tears, you let your mother guide you out the door before he came to pull you back into fate’s vicious plot.
Two days, you hadn’t left your room in two days. Not that your parents had noticed, not that anyone really did. You doubted anyone noticed your absences from class. You hoped no one would notice truthfully. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his face again. It was driving you crazy. So you locked yourself in your room and hoped-prayed-that these growing feelings would just die. Or maybe you could just die. That sounded like a solid solution as well. It was part of the reason why despite the late hour, despite living in Gotham you had unlocked and opened your window.
There was a sound that awoke you, yanking you from the nightmares that never seemed to cease. And as you opened your eyes to the familiar shapes and silhouettes in your room you found one that did not belong there.
"Who are you?" You whispered to the woman hiding in the shadows, not really caring if acknowledging her would lead her to strike.
After all, who would lurk in the shadows of someone's room while they were sleeping unless you planned to kill them. It was a relief of sorts, that you were more than likely going to die soon. It would help you feel less guilt about Damian, about the situation that occurred a few nights before and the feelings that refused to listen to reason.
Stepping into the moonlight the woman towered before you. Half her face tilted towards the light and you blinked twice almost recognizing it- but- but that couldn't be possible. There was no way you knew this woman. You hardly knew anyone, let alone an murder or assassin who would sneak into sleeping peoples rooms.
"You don't have to worry about that.” She replied in a soft voice, her accent reminding you of something-something…something!
You just couldn’t quite place your finger on what though. It nagged and nipped at your mind, tugging and swirling in faint recognition you could not connect.
The woman took a step forward, her black hair swaying as she crossed her arms, her tone sharp and barbed, “I think who you are is a more important question.”
Her gaze did not leave you and you adjusted your blanket before glancing towards the open window almost blankly saying,
"Nobody special I can assure you."
This caused the woman’s posture to relax a little. She hummed slightly as you crossed your legs and set your elbows on your knees.
"Hmm, really?"
Nodding you rested your face in your hands as you looked at her shadowy figure. She seemed kind, in a way. She was at least talking to you before killing you. That was something was it not?
"Just the byproduct of fate's meddling and destructive hands."
"Ah, your parents are soulmates?' Her stance relaxed even more and you noted how from what you could see her outfit was nothing like the things the Gotham vigilantes wore.
"Unwilling but yes, soulmates."
It was more of a snort than a reply, but it didn’t seem to phase the woman as she rested herself on your desk the moon light allowing you to see the curve of her jaw and shape of her nose. Familiar features that made your gut churn.
"Oh, oh. I see. They did not choose-"
"To have me?” You interrupted with a sigh, shrugging you nodded, “I guess you could say that."
Silence followed and you saw the woman’s eyes narrow. She crossed her arms again, stance tightening.
"... you do not seem the type to share your innermost troubles with a stranger, why are you talking to me?"
Pulling your face from your hands you gave her a shrug as a yawn slipped from your lips, "Well, for one I think you're here to kill me and two... I've needed to tell someone for a while. Why not a perfect stranger?"
"Your parent's fate troubles you that much?" Her voice seemed to begin carrying concern, which only troubled you because it made you think there would be a possibility she wouldn’t kill you.
"They are living proof- hell I am living proof that soulmates shouldn't be forced together…” You paused crossing your arms with a scowl, “and because fate is cruel, I have a soulmate too. Despite how awful they are."
"Your soulmate is awful?"
Something in her tone said she did not believe what she was asking in the slightest. Which was true, yet it still caused that buzzing familiarity to ring just a bit louder.
"n-no, he's not.”
Squeezing your eyes shut you sighed deeply, running your hands along your face, “ He's kind and- and all I could ask for but- but... how do I know he's all I want? How do I know any of this- any of my feelings are mine? How do I know that it isn't fate pulling my strings and wanting me to dance? How do I know he won’t leave? That the bond will only become apparent when we fight and won’t exist otherwise? When the love is gone and only the bond remains? How will I know that I won’t be abandoned again? That I won't be hurt again? That I will gain a love that will last? I won’t. Not to mention even if I didn't like him... I would have to be with him."
"No,” The woman scoffed, “you wouldn't, dear."
"Yes, I would. My parents- they tried and now- now I live in the shambles of a home. They are together because of that damned bond even though they hate each other." You were crying now, of course you were, "fate does not like to be ignored and I don't like to be told what to do."
Angrily grabbing a tissue you blew your nose, faintly hearing the woman laugh. From what you could see, she had a look in her eyes that seemed soft- understanding. One you most certainly did not expect your killer to have.
"Oh my, really?" She mumbled head turned towards the window.
"Yes! I'd rather live in a hell I have control of, a hell I made rather than one fate forced upon me. If- if I ignore it enough... I heard it will fade for him, I- I will still feel it but- but because he tried, he will be spared. He'll have a chance- one I never had. And though- though I can't truly tell if these feelings are mine, it's all I want. I love him. I love him”
You stopped yourself trembling as you said it yet again, “I love him.”
Nodding you continued on, “and… I want him to be happy without me. Because- because I won't give way to fate, not even for him."
"Hmmm. I have a question for you.”
“Yes?” You pulled the tissue box closer to you sure more tears would come.
“Do you really want to die?”
“Excuse me?”
The woman shrugged, waving a hand, “It’s just, it hardly seems to me that you want to die. Rather it seems like you want to live.”
"What- I, I’m sorry I-." You were at a loss for words.
She was smiling as she replied with a shrug, “You have told me of a cause you wish to live for, no? To fight against the soulmate bond. While I personally disagree with your choice, I hardly think dying will do anything other than let the bond win.”
“Wha-... I-,” You sputtered, mainly because what she said made sense.
It made an insane amount of sense. So much so that it had your head spinning. Why exactly did you think dying was the best option? You may not have the best life, but it was yours right?
“I’m-I’m sorry.” The whisper escaped not entirely directed at the woman but rather just as a declaration in general.
The tears on your face felt silly and you blew your nose again as the woman sighed. Causing silence to spin about the room until she remarked,
"I believe I should be the one apologizing."
You laughed, wiping the tears from your face, "Why?"
"Because I'm not here to kill you."
Something in you skipped a beat and you shook your head. Of course she isn’t. Who would want you dead after all. You hadn’t done anything that would cause a reason to be killed.
"Oh darn." You snorted, rubbing the back of your hand across your face, "Here I am looking like a fool asking for something I don’t even want from someone who can’t even give it to me. Fate is cruel… Though life does seem crueler."
"Yes," She muttered looking over her shoulder at the window, "indeed it is."
A figure loomed where she looked, a familiar figure in green, yellow and red. The woman smiled at you again and she moved towards him patting him on the shoulder before climbing out the window.
“It was nice to meet you Y/N.”
Blinking in confusion you latched onto the vigilante who was now looming in between your room and the outside, "Robin? What are you doing here?"
He sighed, the woman disappearing as he rested on the window frame, "I am afraid it is quite difficult for me to explain at the moment."
"Wha-.... wait-wait."
In the silence of the night, with the slight breeze trailing in from the window where Robin was perched, you felt a tug. A heart wrenching tug you had felt just the other night. A tug that sent aches all over and made your throat tighten.
"...you're-oh."
Biting, you lip you fought off tears as he slowly entered your room. Breathing deeply, you began picking at your fingers before you finally found the courage to look him in the eyes.
He was right in front of you as tears spilled down your cheeks and through sharp stabs of pain you tightly smiled remarking,
"...hi Damian."
He was silent and you bit down harder, weakly you took in a breath. His voice was soft in reply,
"Y/N... are you- are you alright?"
You didn't know what to say. After all, he must have heard something... then again, he might not have but-
"How-" Your voice cracked as you avoided looking at him despite him being so close, but it was hard as you could feel the heat from his body, "how much... How much did you hear?"
His was quiet and you squeezed your eyes shut, heart dropping as you tasted blood. Pain dancing across your lips and air fighting to leave you. A tiny sob escaped you and you took a ragged breath in as you opened your eyes facing him. Rob-no Damian raised a hand and brushed it against your face before he leaned in. His lips almost pressed against your ear he said,
2: “I want to fuck you until you can only remember my name.” ,Steve Rogers, 7: Mutual pining
for soulmate au,please🥺🥺
Waiting for a Sign
Steve Rogers x soulmate!reader
Sometimes the answer is right in front of your face
Warnings: some smut but not fully smut, both reader and Steve are virgins but Steve is a closet freak (as we all know he is), mutual pining, semi-public sex, fingering
WC: 2.1k
Minors DNI
2: “I want to fuck you until you can only remember my name.”
7: Mutual pining
1: Soulmate au
1000 Follower Celebration
Steve was a stupid man. Not in the way you’d think though. He was highly intelligent in many aspects, he could easily read people’s behaviours, he knew many languages (French was his favourite), and his memory was downright perfect. But for all those smarts and talents, he was still a complete idiot, as Sam loved to remind him.
The main reason he was an idiot was in regards to his soulmate. The person he was destined to spend eternity with, to marry and have a family, to have everything he’s ever dreamed about. A symbol had been carved onto his collarbone the day he turned 18, the black ink standing out against his naturally pale skin.
It was a collection of stars that seemingly formed the petals of a rose. He adored it. All his adult life, he imagined the person that wore the same mark. What would they be like? He knew that, whoever they were, they would be the most beautiful person in existence. He had no doubt about that.
But after coming out of the ice, he lost almost all hope that he was ever going to find them. Sam told him not to give up, that they may be closer than he thinks. He ignores him, there are bigger fish to fry now. But sometimes, he lets himself dream, particularly of the plump little woman that was recently hired in Stark Industries as Pepper’s new assistant, Y/N.
“Such an idiot.” The Falcon sighs, watching his friend do his usual morning routine, completely oblivious to the loving gaze of the new addition to the tower from only a few feet away. “Tell me about it.” Natasha huffs glaring at the pair who unknowingly dance around each other.
“Is there a reason we can’t tell them? You know for a fact it would make our lives easier.” “They have to figure it out for themselves. But yes, it could be so much easier if we just told them.” Sam retorted, rolling his eyes as Y/N’s head snapped down to her (locked) phone, pretending not to have been staring at Captain America when he turned back around.
Steve sighed as he looked down at the young woman. She was wearing her usual work attire, a plain emerald blouse with a high waisted pleated skirt that always swayed around her plump ass, not that Steve ever noticed that (he totally did). The matching blazer was hanging over the chair she was perched on, along with the small over the shoulder bag she carried with her everywhere. She was beautiful, no doubt about that, but more than that, she was kind and intelligent and the most genuine person he had ever met.
As he sipped from his coffee, Steve couldn’t help but trace the soft lines of her curves while she was distracted with her phone, presumably finalising Pepper’s schedule for the day. “…Steve? Did you hear what I said?” His head snapped up, face flushing at having been caught.
“What?” Nat’s forehead fell to the kitchen counter, grunting in annoyance. The younger man groaned and repeated his question. “Are you coming down to train, man?” “Yeah yeah um, I’ll be down in a minute.” He stammered, trying to hide his blush behind the coffee mug, eyes darting away as Y/N looked up from her phone giggling at Steve’s expression. His cheeks got even redder.
“Alright! Enough of that! We’ll see you down there.” Sam clapped him on the shoulder as he and Nat left the room. Silence settled over the pair, neither of them perceiving the tension hanging thickly in the air. She smiled kindly at the Captain and his heart skipped a beat. Her eyes shone in the morning light, her dewy skin looked incredibly soft.
Y/N watched as Steve seemed to zone out. Her lips parted, tongue darting out to wet her plump bottom lip. He was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. With his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw, as well as a body that could’ve been carved from marble, he was statuesque. He handled himself with more grace than she would’ve expected from a man that doubled in size and weight in less than 10 minutes. His blue eyes shone in the early morning sun, always reflecting deep emotion that seemed to draw her in. And just as she was about to speak, “Y/N! There you are! I’ve had some last minute changes.” Pepper strolled into the room, not at all caring about whatever was going on in the kitchen.
Steve took that as his cue to slip away, trying desperately to ignore the heat in his cheeks.
——————
“Oh oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Y/N hissed as the piping hot coffee ran down her front, staining her blouse. The agent that had come around the corner too quickly and without looking and practically dumped the hot beverage onto her was furiously apologetic. “L-let me get you some napkins! I feel so awful!” Y/N waved her off. “It’s fine, I was feeling a bit cold anyway.” She joked, accepting some of the paper towels the agent shoved at her, and dabbing the hot liquid from her chest.
She sighed. This was just great. First she had been benched while Pepper ran meetings with Tony, left Y/N to do all of the paperwork and Pepper wasn’t exaggerating when she said it was a shit-ton. Then, her favourite cafe ran out of her favourite sandwiches so she didn’t have time to find another place to eat lunch, and now, her favourite blouse was stained with the dark brown liquid.
“Just go.” She said to the agent. “I know there’s a mission debrief soon that you can’t miss.” The woman seemed relieved. “Thank you so much and I’m so sorry about this.” And she scampered off. Y/N huffed, still blotting at the dark stain as she walked back to her office, grumbling about how crap her day has gotten.
Thank god Pepper gave her an office with blinds and a solid wood door. Peeling off her blazer and shirt, she pulled out more tissues from her desk, trying to wipe up as much of the coffee as possible not only from the fabric, but also from her skin. She was so grateful she wasn’t wearing a nice bra today, so only her shitty brassiere was stained. Laying her shirt over the small heater in the corner, she turned to throw away the damp tissues when her door was opened.
“Hey Y/N! I noticed you didn’t have any lunch today so I got you this sandwich…” Steve trailed off, frozen in place in the middle of the entryway, a brown paper bag and a to-go cup in hand. “Steve!” She screeched, attempting to cover her naked top half as he stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Close the door!”
He did so. “With you on the other side!” “Oh oh right.” But he made no move to leave, his blue eyes flicking down to her full bust. Heat crawled up her neck as he studied her. “Steve go.” She pleaded, starting to get more self conscious. “Your soul mark.”
Y/N looked down at the tattoo-like drawing on her chest, the rose made of stars looked like it had been painted onto her skin, she usually covered it up since it was in more of an intimate place. “W-what about it?” She tried to turn away but Steve was faster. He dropped the cup and the bag, his big hand grabbing her shoulder to keep her in place.
With a quick move, his own tight shirt had been pulled over his head and cast to the side. Y/N squeaked, eyes darting to anywhere that wasn’t the super soldier’s body. “Look.” Calloused fingers guided her jaw down and she gasped. There on the Captain America’s very sculpted pec, was a rose made from stars. Tentatively reaching out, she touched his warm skin, tracing the delicate lines of the mark.
“It’s you?” He nodded, a relieved smile overcoming his features. “I’ve waited a lifetime for you.” They paused for a brief moment before their lips crashed together. The kiss was by no means romantic or tender, it was all teeth and tongues as months of tension finally snapped. Muscular arms wrapped tightly around her thick waist to pull her even closer, the need to feel each other growing at an alarming rate.
Y/N’s hands slid up his strong back and tangled in his perfect blond hair, her soft stomach pressed against him, moaning into Steve’s mouth as she felt the length of his hard cock on her tummy. Suddenly she pulled away. “Wait Steve. I have to tell you something.” His grip loosened slightly. “What is it? Do you not want to do this?” She shook her head. “No no. I do. I’ve wanted this for so long. I just- I’ve never done this before.”
His blue eyes widened before they got darker, lust radiating from them. He dipped down and met her lips once more, immediately snaking his tongue into her mouth, one big palm cupping her plump ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Me neither.” He groaned in between kisses. “Do you know how hot that is?” Sloppy kisses were placed down her jaw as he spoke. “That we will only have each other for the rest of our lives. That I will only be yours and you will only be mine.”
Y/N moaned, guiding his head to her throat, where he proceeded to bite and suckle the delicate skin, leaving deep marks that she would definitely struggle to cover up tomorrow. “I’m yours Steve. All yours.” Heat pooled between her legs, soaking her panties through. The bigger man rolled his hips into her, desperately trying to relieve his aching cock.
She gasped as her ass collided with the edge of her desk, several items falling to the floor, but Steve didn’t relent, he couldn’t. Not when he finally had her in his arms. Sharp nails scraped down his back and he growled into her neck. His mind was overloaded with sensations, the way Y/N was mewling into the air, the feel of her skin beneath his lips, the smell of her weeping cunt which seemed to invade his senses with a tangy sweetness, the taste of her sweat on his tongue.
He couldn’t wait anymore.
Thick fingers slipped down her front, nudging her skirt up over her hips so his warm palm could cup her clothed pussy. “Are you ok with this? We can slow down.” She shook her head, hand falling to his wrist and pushing it even closer to the sizable wet patch in her panties. “I want this so bad. Please.” Steve felt like his knees were about to give in as she looked up at him with big doe eyes.
“Ok ok, lemme just prep you first, I don’t want to hurt you petal.” Oh god, he was going to be the death of her. With delicate movements, like he hadn’t just been sucking on her neck like a fucking vampire, Steve lowered her soaked panties, letting them drop to the floor. He kept his eyes lock on hers as his hand slid up her soft inner thigh, the calloused tips of his fingers barely brushing the folds of her sex. “Steve please.” She breathed, rolling her hips down, needing him to touch her.
But he continued to tease, seemingly hypnotised by the way her wetness gathered on his hand and shimmered in the white light of the fluorescent bulbs above them. It was pure torture, he was so close to where she needed him but still so far away. It just slipped out, her mind already going hazy. “Please Captain.”
The growl that resonated through his chest was downright feral, it was deep and almost animalistic, like she was suddenly trapped in her office with a bear and not a man. “I want to fuck you until you can only remember my name.” In a surprisingly bold move, Y/N bit down on his ear lobe before whispering. “Then do it, Captain.” Steve grabbed her by her wide hips to plant her on top of the desk, immediately stepping between her thick thighs.
His lips were already swollen from their kisses, his pale face a dark red with a flush that spread down his chest. “This may hurt.” His breathing was ragged and he looked to be at the very end of his composure. Wrapping her legs around his small waist, Y/N brought his body to hers, the blunt head of his cock pressed tightly to her virgin opening. “Hurt me.”
Steve’s blue eyes fluttered and his breath hitched. “You’re going to regret that little girl.” He growled and pushed in, fitting together like a missing puzzle piece. Both exactly where they were meant to be.
With caught under mistletoe, frat bro soulmate!ransom keeps tries to orchestrate moments of him and Bee getting caught under, but Andy always swoops in at the last moment to get the kiss and leads Bee away.
Christmas countdown day 5 — Get caught under the mistletoe
Ransom was pissed, he was beyond pissed in every possible way. Every opportunity to get you under the mistletoe was somehow overshadowed every single time by Andy and his ability to literally steal you away. Every chance Ransom had to kiss you under the mistletoe was kiboshed by the future lawyer stepping in.
“Better luck next time, Drysdale.” Andy had chortled as he took you, as he swept Ransom’s bumblebee away from him.
Every chance, taken.
Every time, ruined.
You were his soulmate, and Andy’s, but you were his first. He had expressed his frustration when Andy had tried to steal you the last time, not so elegantly cursing out the future lawyer. He was unbothered, Andy, shrugging off the curses with a sly smile and the guarantee that he would do it again.
Ransom, to his credit, was not going to miss the chance ti catch you the next time. He had a stalwart plan to secure his chance to kiss you under the decorative Christmas plant.
“You wanted to talk?” Ransom had invited you in, noting the lack of Barber at your ass, giving him a chance to finally kiss you under the mistletoe.
“Bumblebee, I’ve been trying to get you alone for so fucking long-“ Ransom had begun to unload his emotional digressions upon you, frustrated with the lack of progress he was making with you.
He was mid sentence and almost getting to the point when you had lurched forward and kissed him silent. Your lips smacked against his own, your hands fisting in his sweater to pull him closer. Ransom’s hand reached around to cup your ass, lifting you from the ground so you could wrap your legs around his waist.
“Fucking finally.” Ransom breathed against you, huffing content.
“You can thank Andy for that,” you grinned, eyeing the mistletoe above his head, “he felt for you, Rammy.”
“Barber did this?” Ransom scowled, looking up at the roof where the mistletoe hung. “Of course he did.”
Instead of returning to your room you made your way to the gym. You needed to beat the shit out of something. You popped in the locker room and slid on your workout clothes before taping your hands. Wade was waiting for you when you came out. You sighed. “Thought I said not right now.”
He grinned. “Figured you wanted to hurt something. What are besties for?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Wade.”
“Sure you do, sweet cheeks. Everyone wants to hurt me.”
You snorted a laugh, unable to help yourself. The merc bouncing on his feet in front of you grinned. You watched him for a moment as your lips twitched in amusement. Well, like he said, what were best friends for? You shrugged before landing a right uppercut to his chin.
Wade stumbled backward while you headed to the mat. “What the shit?” he yelled when he joined you. “That wasn’t cool, princess. Not cool at all. You have to give me some warning.”
You smirked at his dramatics. “But I feel so much better. You’re right, hurting you is therapeutic.”
He narrowed his eyes and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.
“Either fight me or let me hit the bag.”
Wade nodded and moved into a fighting stance. “You know how this works. We fight and you talk.”
You dodged a swing then blocked another. “Talk about what? Pretty sure you heard it all.”
“Yeah, and so did everyone else including pretty boy. How are you feeling about that?”
You advanced with a flurry of punches, more than one landing on his ribs. When you stopped, you backed off with a shrug. “It is what it is, Wilson.”
“Mmhmm. Well, if you don’t want to talk about that, how about we talk about what you’re still hiding.”
You froze at Wade’s words, not expecting him to be so insightful. He managed to land a hit to your stomach before you snapped out of it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Try again, sweet cheeks. This is Wade you’re talking to.”
You backed off the mat as you studied him wondering how the hell he’d picked up there was something you were still keeping back. Finally, you shook your head. “That’s a discussion that needs to be had with my soulmate and only my soulmate.”
Wade smirked. “So, you do intend to talk to him again at some point.”
You frowned. “Why wouldn’t I talk to him?”
He seemed speechless for a moment. You weren’t certain you’d ever seen him that way before. “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, princess, but I’m pretty sure everyone is under the impression that you’re angry with him.”
“I’m not mad at him. I’m angry at myself because I can’t get past this.” You moved over to hit one of the bags. Wade followed and leaned against the wall where he could see your face but was out of the way. “I know he’s not the same person. I know it but my brain won’t let me forget who he was. Just when I think I’m making progress I have one of my dreams.”
Wade sighed. “If that’s true, I think you need to talk to him. He was pretty messed up when you left.”
You slammed your fist into the bag one more time. “Shit.” You removed the tape from your hands as you moved across the room. “I’ll see you later, Wade.”
“I could just—”
“Go home, Wilson. I’ll call you later.” You tossed the tape in the trashcan as you passed by on your way to the elevator. You were sure your best friend was mostly just wanting to make sure you’d be okay, but Wade was also the biggest gossip. He wanted to know what was going on before anyone else.
When you arrived at Bucky’s floor, Steve and Sam both turned to look at you. It appeared they’d been in conversation.
Sam smiled when he saw you. “Hey.”
You gave him a small smile in return.
Steve, however, was not happy to see you. “What are you doing here? Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Steve.”
His brows lifted as his lips pressed into a tight line. “Excuse me?”
“I’m here to talk to Bucky.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Sam stayed quiet, his eyes just moving between the two of you as you argued.
“Steve, I don’t know how to tell you this but Bucky’s my soulmate, not yours.” You crossed your arms over your chest and bit back some of the more scathing things you wanted to say. Steve was just looking out for his friend, but you seriously didn’t want to deal with his shit right now. He’d already made it clear on more than one occasion that he thought you weren’t good enough for his bestie. You know, his bestie that had killed dozens of people. The Hydra assassin that shot Natasha. Sometimes you wondered what the hell Steve thought you’d gotten up to in your spare time.
When the man just continued to glare at you, you sighed. “Look, I’m going to talk to him. You can try to stop me if you want but it won’t change anything.” You clenched your teeth and worked a muscle in your jaw. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, Steve. It’s my story. All I did was tell it.”
After a moment of thought, he stepped back and gestured down the hall. “Good luck. We can’t get him to answer the door.”
“Funny how you think I’ll give him a choice.”
You walked past them to Bucky’s door and knocked lightly. When there was no answer, you tried the knob only to find it locked. Unfortunately for your soulmate you didn’t give a shit about his privacy at the moment and you were one of the people he’d given full access to his room. “Jarvis, unlock Bucky’s door please.”
“Of course, Miss.”
You slipped into the room, shutting and locking the door behind you. Bucky sat with his back against the headboard. His head leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed. He groaned in annoyance. “Damn it, Steve. I don’t want to talk and I don’t need a baby sitter. Just leave me alone.”
“Not Steve.”
He jerked his head up and his eyes flew open. When he moved to get up, you held up a hand to stop him. You tilted your head and studied him for a long moment. His muscles were taut, his eyes red and tired.
“What are you doing here?” he asked when you remained silent. “Have you come to reject me?” His voice broke along with your heart.
You stepped forward and climbed on the bed to sit facing him. “No, Bucky. I’m not rejecting you.” You laid your hand on top of his and he shifted to intertwine your fingers.
His head dropped forward while his eyes locked on your hands. “You should.”
You scooted closer and laid your free hand against his cheek. He sighed and leaned into it. A sob jerked through his body and you nudged his head up to look at you. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Buck. That wasn’t how I intended to tell you at all. Unfortunately, you pushed me on a shit day and I reacted without thinking. I’m sorry.”
His face contorted into a look of pure disbelief. “What the hell are you apologizing for?”
Your hand dropped away from his face and you smiled softly. “It was a conversation we should have had in private.”
He grasped your free hand in his so he was holding both as he shook his head. “It’s fine, sweetheart. It kept you from having to say that shit more than once. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”
“I was a kid the last time you saw me in Hydra. And your brain wasn’t exactly in the best shape.”
He made a sound of agreement and leaned his head back against the wall while keeping his eyes on you. A tear or two ran down his cheeks. “I can’t say enough how sorry I am. Hurting you was my biggest regret from my time as the soldier.”
“It’s not your fault. That wasn’t you. I know that. You know that. It’s just hard to compartmentalize sometimes.” You weren’t mad at yourself for telling your story, but you did regret not having a private conversation with your soulmate first so he was prepared. You sighed and pulled your hands away from him as you got back to your feet.
You started pacing the floor at the foot of his bed. His gaze followed you and he shifted so he sat at the edge with one leg hanging off while the other was folded beneath him. “What is it, doll?”
“There’s something else I should tell you.” You chewed on the tip of your thumb as you continued pacing. “When they rescued me, they had trouble determining my age. In addition to all the other shit Hydra did to me, they were pumping me full of hormones and chemicals.”
“Why?”
You huffed a laugh though there was no humor in it. “They were trying to speed up my development so they could move onto the next phase. They wanted little super soldier babies. Soldat and Nicto combined in one little person.”
“Shit,” you heard him say moments before his chest pressed against your back to stop your incessant pacing. His arms wrapped around your waist and his face pressed into the curve of your neck as he took comfort from your presence. “Fucking Hydra.”
You leaned your head back against his shoulder and took a deep breath. “When they went through the files from the base, they found files where they’d listed the pros and cons of all the different methods of conception. They intended to have you breed me.”
Bucky jerked his head back to frown at you, his brow furrowing in anger and disbelief. “You were a kid.”
“You think Hydra gave a shit? They’d been forming me into their tool since I was six. It was just another use for me.” You rubbed a hand along his arm in comfort and his face found its way back to your neck.
“Anything else you need to tell me, doll? Let’s get this over with all at once.”
You turned in his arms and rested your hands on his chest as you looked up at him. “It really bothers me that you haven’t seen Beauty and the Beast yet.”
He grinned and leaned forward so his nose rubbed against yours and his lips were millimeters from yours. “Watch it with me then.”
Then he kissed you. It was soft, searching. A touch and gesture you both needed to heal from the day and the damage it had done to your hearts.
When you pulled back, the two of you just looked at each other for a long moment. “I need to change first,” you finally said. Your workout clothes weren’t exactly the most comfortable to lounge around in.
“Okay.” He released you and opened a drawer in his dresser to toss you a pair of cotton shorts with a drawstring waist. Then he grabbed a t-shirt draped over the back of his chair and handed that to you as well.
That wasn’t exactly what you’d meant but you weren’t going to complain. “You find the movie, I’ll go change.”
Once you were shut in the bathroom, you lifted the shirt to your nose and inhaled. It smelled like Bucky but with a fresh undertone telling you he hadn’t worn it very long. You smiled and changed your clothes.
When you opened the door, Bucky ran his gaze over you from top to bottom and grinned as he licked his lips. He’d changed from his jeans into pajama pants. He was sat to one side on his bed, back against the headboard and remote in his hand. “Animated or live action?”
“They’re both good but animated first.” You climbed onto the bed with him. Rather than sitting beside him, you scooted further down and curled around so your head rested in his lap.
He went still beneath you and you turned to glance up at him. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaped just a little. “Is this okay?”
The question seemed to snap him out of it. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s perfect.”
You smiled and turned back to the TV as he started the movie. You hummed along with the music.
By the time the village finished singing about what a funny girl Belle was, Bucky had one hand resting on your hip while the other played with your hair.
And by the time Beast let Belle leave the castle, he had shifted so he was laying with his head propped up on his pillows and you curled into his side with your head on his chest. His arm wrapped around you and his fingers found the way under the hem of your shirt to rub the bare skin just above the shorts you wore.
That was how Steve found you hours later when he finally had Jarvis unlock the door in his worry for his friend. He was surprised to find you there. He’d assumed you’d said whatever you needed to say to Buck and headed back to your room. The sight of the two of you snuggled up together as you slept eased his most of his concern. He grabbed a spare blanket from the top of the closet and covered the two of you up before quietly leaving and telling Jarvis you weren’t to be disturbed.
helloooo!! I have a Spencer request :) Could you write one where Spencer is injured (maybe like when he broke his leg or something like that) and he stays round yours and you look after him, help him shower, comfort him and stuff :)
Anonymous said to beautiful-bau-beau: could u do a soulmate au w spence where you feel the share pain with your soulmate, i think it would be interesting since spencer seems to be shot or nearly killed in almost every episode
Sticks and Stones
fem!reader/Spencer Reid
masterlist
[Set in season 5 when Spencer gets shot in the leg but makes references to Maeve]
----
To the average eye flowers are soft, simple little things. They spark romance in the hearts of budding couples, they aid the grieving widows, their beauty inspires the masses in forms such as poetry and art. For some, flowers only caused distress.
Few were "fortunate" in the world to have soulmates. Once twelve years of age, a soul bound to another would feel the pain, to a lesser extent, as well as receive a flower at the sight of the intrusion. Small purple blooms grew at bruises, at a cut, the flowers would mimic the length and size. Any other type of pain was indicated by large, red blossoms. As each wound healed, the flowers would wilt and die.
You were among the many to few flowers as flimsy nuisances, only serving as reminders of the pain you had to go through.
Before turning twelve you often wondered if you had a soulmate. You had spent many days vividly imagining who your soulmate was, what he looked like, what he did for a living, choosing to ignore that if you indeed had one, a lifetime of pain was sure to follow.
Lifetime of pain indeed.
Your soulmate must have been a stuntman, a police officer, hell- even a lion tamer with the amount of pain he seemed to put you through. The occasional bruise and scrape seemed to hit you up until your early twenties, that's when the real pain began.
Every other day it seemed that you were doubled over, screaming in agony. You were an ugly vision of purple and red, but hell, it seemed to strike up a conversation with you and your patients.
You served as a private duty nurse, taking care of patients in the safety of their own home. You enjoyed the one-on-one with your patients, and it was decidedly better than working in a crowded hospital with a difficult schedule.
You had just finished a job working with an elderly woman, as her granddaughter had recently decided to move in with her to take care of her. It was a sad departure, but the job had finished and it was now time for you to find another patient in need.
You were employed through a small local medical office and received career requests through their office website.
One particular request caught your eye that morning from a Ms. Penelope Garcia. A friend of hers had recently been shot in the leg and needed to quickly recover before returning to his job.
You eyed your own leg, sighing heavily. It still seemed to throb harshly every once in a while.
A week ago, out of nowhere, an extreme pain radiated through your leg, causing you to drop what you were doing and scream. Thankfully you hadn't been on the job but the look of pity your neighbors gave you the next day felt just as awful. Every time you glanced at the offending appendage you could swear you saw another blossom grow.
"You and me both, buddy." You mumbled, picking up your phone. The job seemed simple enough, and hopefully you would be able to bond with this new patient by shared leg pain.
-
"You ordered a nurse for me?" Spencer hissed into his cell, turning to look over his shoulder. "I can take care of myself!" He eyed your figure, currently unpacking a medical bag. You had entered his apartment mere minutes ago, not understanding his confusion.
"Are you Spencer Reid?" You asked, greeting his wheel-chair bound figure. "I'm Y/n Y/l/n, the nurse your girlfriend Penelope ordered." You were met with a blank stare. "Is she uh.. here?"
"I'm going to have to make a phone call." Spencer blurted, wheeling himself inside. He left the door open so you took it upon yourself to enter.
"Spencer, I love you but are you listening to yourself right now?" Penelope replied, twirling a pen around her fingers. "You were shot a week ago, you're in a wheelchair. How are you going to shower? Replace your bandages? Sweets, this nurse will help you. And before you even have to ask I already checked and your insurance covers this!"
"Garcia-"
"I won't hear anything more about it as I know I'm right! Goodbye, dear!" A heavy sigh came from the man, and he placed his cellphone back in his pocket. He turned to look at you again, wheeling his way over to you.
"I apologize for earlier. I wasn't exactly informed that you would be coming here." He placed his hands on his lap, awkwardly.
"That's alright!" You chirped. " You’re low-risk so I won’t invade your space too much by staying overnight with you. I'm here to help with personal medical care, bathing, trimming nails, and making you comfortable.... as well as urinary and colostomy care." His eyes widened and you simply waved him off. "I get it. It's weird. But from what I read through of your medical reports, the bullet went clear through and you'll need a crutch in two weeks! At least you're not hooked up to a catheter?" You tried to joke. You were met with another simple stare.
"Let's uh, change your bandages, shall we?"
-
It had been a few days since you started working with Spencer. He was a nice man, a little awkward, and seemed to be more of an introvert, so you respected his space. He seemed to take to staying in bed, simply asking for books every once and awhile.
"There's no way you're able to read all these so quickly. You'd have to be superhuman..." You teased, bringing him a stack of his latest requests.
"I have an IQ of 187 and can read 20,000 words per minute." Spencer replied, catching your eye. He flushed under your surprised glance. "...Not to brag."
"Well... that'll do it." You set each book in your arm down, one by one, a particular title catching your eye. "The Narrative of John Smith?"
"Have you read it?" He asked, trying not to sound too eager. He hadn't originally pegged you for an Arthur Conan Doyle fan.
"Uh, no." You scratched behind your ear sheepishly. "But a few friends of mine have, they all highly recommend it. What do you think? Does it live up to all the hype?" Spencer opened his mouth but shut it almost immediately, causing your brows to furrow.
"I can't tell you what to read... it's just a very special book to me."
"Did someone special give you the book? Penelope?" Spencer let out a chuckle, hissing as he adjusted himself on his bed.
"Garcia is just a friend but you're correct, someone special gave me the book."
"A soulmate?" You asked, immediately regretting your choice of words. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. I'm just the nosy nurse that asks too many questions." You knew it was a sensitive topic for some, with or without the soulmate.
"No, it wasn't from a soulmate... but I wish she was." Spencer's voice grew soft. You felt as if you had stepped too far, intruded upon a fond memory.
"I do have one though." He continued, noticing your unease. "Sometimes I worry I imagined her but every once and awhile, I'll notice some flowers by my legs, the likely result of a cut from shaving or bruises." You let out a laugh, leaning against his door frame.
"I would love a low-risk soulmate like that. He must jump through flaming hula-hoops or something. I could make a decent living as a florist." You murmured.
"That's got to be tough." Spencer observed, noticing no flowers on your arm.
"I guess he's a lot like you." You lifted up your pant leg, crimson petals on display. "His reason can't be nearly as heroic as yours, though." Spencer couldn't suppress the smile that grew from the compliment.
"Well I guess you'll have to find him and ask."
"Well you're in the FBI right? Let's formulate a profile and find him so I can give him a piece of my mind. You in?" You teased.
"Sounds like a worthy use of all my newfound time." He let out a small huff of amusement, eyeing your figure. He appreciated how lighthearted and casual you were. He noticed the space you gave him and your little efforts to make the apartment easier to maneuver around. Although he hadn't seemed motivated at first, something told him he should get to know you more.
-
"Y/n?" Spencer asked, drawing your attention away from one of the books you had borrowed from his shelf. "Is there any way we can wash my hair?" He had procrastinated in asking, too embarrassed for whatever your plan was for showering.
"Of course! I could cut it too if you'd like." You offered, standing to wheel him into the bathroom.
"Are you saying you don't like my hair?" He faked an offended tone which he knew would make you laugh.
"I think your hair is beautiful, right at that perfect length before it gets too weird for any man to wear." You snorted. You moved him to a stool, not too difficult a feat as he was able to support the majority of his weight on his good leg. "Alright, the shirt has got to come off."
"Isn't against a code to try and seduce your patients?" Spencer teased. Since your conversation the other day he had grown to feel more comfortable with you and a friendship ensued. You took care when treating him and told stories of past patients. It was clear you loved what you did and cared for the people even more.
"Oh please. If I was seducing you, which I'm not, you'd know." You rolled your eyes, waiting for him to lift his arms before peeling his shirt off of him. He leaned back, long tresses falling into a pool in the sink.
He was extremely handsome, you couldn't deny it. His sharp cheekbones and jawline, his full and enticing lips, the way his hand flexed as he read.... you didn't notice any of that. You especially didn't notice how wonderfully intelligent he was, or how kind. Not at all.
Besides, it would never work. You both had your respective soulmates and he seemed to still be carrying a torch for the past relationship he was in. Not to mention the most important factor of all, he was your patient.
You carefully stepped around him to grab a large and small towel, snickering as you found a familiar design on one.
"Star Trek fan?" You asked, hanging the fabric on the shower rail and turning the tap on to warm water.
"Typically I'm not one for fiction but surprisingly there aren't that many scientific errors in Star Trek, especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors, which make it so enjoyable to watch."
"Eh, I've only seen the film from 2009, and I was mostly paying attention to the deliciously handsome cast." You knew that would agitate him. "And not just for Chris Pine but Zachary Quinto as Spock? Oh, he is gorgeous, even if he is gay. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, and not that I had a chance with him anyway." You laughed.
"Y/n, I am not one to comment on the education of another but you are seriously missing out! Star Trek: The Next Generation is one of the most influential series of it's time. the new film doesn't even have Data! Data, y/n, Data!" He grumbled as you washed his hair.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Next you're going to tell me that the 1996 Doctor Who movie is better than the series?" He opened his mouth when you raised your soapy hand. "Disregard that statement, I can't afford another argument, I'm already too emotional from our last one." You faked a sniffle.
"You know, most females I talk to don't watch Star Trek or Doctor Who."
"I'm just that amazing, I know." You sighed, moving to grab the washcloth and dousing it with water, handing it to Spencer so he could wash himself. You grabbed the Star Trek towel and started to dry Spencer's hair.
"You're something alright." He retorted, drawing a gasp from you.
"I could have let you sit with greasy hair, you know!" Just for extra measure you rubbed his head a little harsher than before but miscalculated your aim, accidentally hitting your wrist against the marble sink.
Spencer felt pain radiate through his wrist and time seemed to slow. It suddenly seemed to dawn on him all at once. You experienced constant pain, pain he gave you because he was often injured on the job. Not to mention his gunshot wound on your leg and now the purple blossoms forming on his wrist.
He wanted to shout, yell, jump up, wrap you in a hug. He had finally found his soulmate! However, he remained silent.
When you spoke about your soulmate the other day you seemed angry and forlorn at the amount of pain you had to endure. There was no doubt in his mind that if you knew he was your soulmate, you would walk right out of his life, but not before giving him a swift kick to the ass.
So he stayed quiet.
-
You weren’t sure what changed between you and Spencer. After the shower he mentioned he didn’t feel too well so you guided him to bed. Since then he stayed in his room, barely calling you to his side.
It was weird. If it was any other patient you would have paid no mind and kept to yourself but you thought you had made a connection with Spencer. You enjoyed the banter between you both and finding out your shared interests. It must have all been in your head. You brought yourself out of your thoughts to prepare Spencer’s tea.
“Here you are!” You called, stepping into his room to hand him the mug. “I’m about to head out, do you need anything else?”
“No, thank you.” You stayed by the door, waiting to see if he would even spare you a glance. When he made no motion to move, you gave up, spinning on your heel to grab your purse and coat.
“Ah!” You heard Spencer hiss from the other room before feeling a sharp sting on your tongue. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, brows knitting together in confusion. Was he…? Did he…?
Spencer was your soulmate, he had to be. There was no possible way that him burning his mouth and your pain that followed were coincidences, right? Spencer was your soulmate! So why did you feel your heart drop into your stomach?
You shut the door, racing down the stairs and out of his apartment building, letting the cold air sweep over you.
There was nothing special about you. You were just a simple nurse and he was your patient. Besides, how were you deserving of Spencer? You weren’t.
He couldn’t find out, he just couldn’t.
-
You didn’t know if it was just because you knew that Spencer was your soulmate but the tension between the two of you was… palpable.
“Hey!” You popped your head into his room, his figure jumping in surprise. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you!” You exclaimed.
“Hi?” He greeted, trying to seem calm. You were leaving tomorrow and he was panicking. The past few hours were spent debating about whether he should tell you that he was your soulmate. Could he really just let this opportunity pass by?
“I just wanted to know if you needed anything? I figured you probably ran out of books by now. Everytime I think you’ve reread all the books in your library I keep finding new ones.” You tried to joke.
“I… Yes. Yes, please.” He mumbled, hiding his gaze. You sighed, wondering for the millionth time what you had done wrong to make him so distant and reclusive.
“Alright, I’ll take the stack.” You bit your lip to keep from sighing once more, groaning as you picked up the books littered around the room. “God these are heavy.” You whispered under your breath, trying to waddle into the other room as you quickly realized you were losing your grip. It seemed as if it was too late, the pounds of literature falling on your feet.
Both you and Spencer let out a groan, heads snapping towards each other in surprise.
“Did you- did you feel that?” You asked, even if you knew the answer.
“I did.” Spencer’s voice seemed small. “Y/n, I am so sorry.” You were taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“You’re sorry?” You questioned, pain forgotten as shame radiated through you. “Am I that bad of a soulmate?” You whispered, clenching your fist to keep tears from pricking your eyes.
“No! No, no, no!” He tried to sit up as straight as he could, internally cursing at how hurt you looked. “I only apologized because… I can’t help but feel like I disappointed you! I am an FBI agent, I’m always going to be in danger therefore putting you in danger. When you first mentioned your soulmate you seemed so… upset. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be able to make you happy.” He admitted, the tips of his ears turning red as his gaze fell to his lap.
“Disappointed? Past-tense?” You cried. “Did you know about this?” He didn’t move.
“Well… I guess I can’t be angry with that.” You sighed. “I knew too. I just thought that… you wouldn’t want me. You still seemed so in love with whatever woman gave you that book. And out of my league. And my patient.” You let out a wry laugh, sitting on the edge of his bed.
“Are you kidding me? You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met. You make me laugh and you are so kind and caring. I am proud to be your soulmate.” He swallowed thickly.
“Spencer you are selfless. You dedicate your life every day to helping others. You are handsome, sweet, and hilarious.” You reached for his hand. “And I am so happy you turned out to be my soulmate.”
Your eyes finally met and before you knew it, your lips smashed against his.
“I don’t know if you know this… but I happen to get injured on a lot of missions.” He uttered as you pulled apart. “So I have a feeling that I’ll need you around more often.”
“Well Doctor, I think you just might be right.” You giggled, drawing him in for another kiss.
Hey all! Back at it again with another review from my Bookshelf #2. I just finished How Did You Know? by @blueeyesatnight and...WOW!! I really love soulmate AUs and this is so amazing! I haven’t watched Zach’s arc on Brothers and Sisters yet so I am not too familiar with his character, but this story is amazing! I love how their love was a gradual process and they built it over time. I also like how it kinda went full circle. The ending was so sweet and beautiful. The soulmate trope isn’t overt in here, but I think that is what makes it awesome! There are hints and it makes me smile. This is an amazing read and I recommend it to other people. Thank you for creating this beautiful story, @blueeyesatnight. (I especially love how long it is!)
