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All Over You

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Touch has always been your love language, until one overheard conversation makes you question everything. When you start to pull away Max realises just how deeply he’s come to need it.

2.7k words / Masterlist

Max always says you’re like a blanket come to life.

You cling. You cuddle. You drape yourself across him the second the opportunity arises. If Max’s lap is free you claim it without hesitation. If he’s stretched out on the couch, you’re pressed against his side before he even blinks. Your hand finds his thigh during dinner, your fingers sneak into his back pocket when you’re walking together, and every morning, like clockwork, your nose tucks into the curve of his neck.

It’s not something you think about, it’s instinct. It’s how you express the things you sometimes struggle to say. How you offer comfort. How you say I love you.

And for the longest time Max never says a word about it.

He lets you curl up beside him during movie nights. He leans into your touch when you rub lazy circles into the back of his neck while he’s gaming, or when you lace your fingers with his under the table at dinner.

So you think, this is us. You think, this works.

Until one night, when you overhear something you weren’t supposed to.

It’s nothing serious. At least, not really.

You’re padding back from the kitchen with a cup of tea, bare feet muffled by carpet when you hear Max talking on the phone on the balcony. His voice is low, casual. He’s talking to Daniel you think. Laughing at something.

And then you catch it.

“Yeah, you noticed huh? No she’s super touchy, always has been. Like, always on me.”

A beat.

“No, I don’t mind it. It’s just... I’m not really used to it, you know?”

You freeze, feet still against the carpet. The tea sloshes slightly, forgotten in your hands.

He laughs again, easy and relaxed. “She’s like a human magnet. If I’m sitting, she’s sitting on me. I swear sometimes I think she’d climb into my skin if she could.”

Daniel says something you can’t hear. Max chuckles. “No, she’s not annoying. She’s just... really affectionate.”

You don’t stay to hear the rest.

Your fingers tighten around your mug as you quietly retreat, heart a little heavier than before. You curl back into bed without saying a word, staring at the ceiling while your tea goes cold on the nightstand.

You’re not angry. He didn’t say anything cruel. Not really.

But for the first time questions being to lodge in your chest like a thorn... do I touch him too much? Does he just tolerate it because he loves me?

And just like that, something in you begins to shift.

You're still beside him. Still laughing at his jokes, still making him breakfast. You kiss him good morning and smile across the table. From the outside nothing changes, but the little things in all the tiny invisible places, the things that used to come so naturally they stop.

You don’t climb into his lap while he’s watching race replays, don’t tuck your face into the slope of his shoulder like you used to. You don’t slide your hand beneath the hem of his hoodie when you hug him from behind in the kitchen, fingers sneaking against warm skin. You don’t curl into his side when the movie starts, don’t tuck yourself under his arm like you belong there.

Instead you sit beside him on the couch with your legs tucked neatly under you, wrapped up tightly in a blanket like armour. A careful distance. A subtle retreat.

You keep your hands in your lap at dinner. You nod and listen and smile, but your fingers don’t find his thigh. You don’t reach for his hand beneath the table.

You still want to. God, do you want to.

Your whole body aches to reach for him, to run your fingers over his jaw, to smooth back his hair, to trace lazy shapes across his stomach. You miss the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart under your cheek.

You miss being held without thinking twice, but now that you’ve heard him say it out loud, that he’s not used to it, that he’s not like you, you can’t unhear it. It loops in your mind when the silence stretches between you.

Slowly you start to convince yourself you’ve been suffocating him. That maybe the way you love is too much for him. That maybe softness, when it clings like yours does, feels like smothering.

So you pull back, quietly, carefully, and hope he doesn’t notice how much it hurts. Or worse that he does, and lets you do it anyway.

Max doesn’t say anything at first, but after a few days he starts to notice.

A few inches of space on the couch. Your hand not finding his like it usually does. The way you don't crawl into his lap during breakfast, don't lean into his side during movies, don't rest your hand on his leg during long car rides.

At first he tells himself maybe you’re tired from work. Maybe it’s just one of those quiet moods that passes like the weather. He gives you space, the way people are always saying partners should.

But the distance doesn’t fade.

It expands.

One morning he slips behind you in the kitchen to steal a piece of toast. Normally you’d laugh, you’d wrap your arms around his waist and bury your nose in his hoodie, but this time you step aside without touching him.

He frowns, just a quick flicker, then hides it, but his stomach twists violently anyway.

It’s not like Max to spiral. He’s not wired for emotional uncertainty he prefers problems he can fix with strategy, planning, control.

But this?

This isn’t a problem he knows how to solve.

The way you sit on the far end of the couch, legs tucked under you, scrolling on your phone like it’s more comforting than him. You barely brush his arm when you slip into bed at night. When he tries to kiss your neck absentmindedly like he always does you duck away, not unkindly, but enough to make him panic

He tries not to panic, but that’s what this feels like panic.

It gnaws at him over the next couple days. The silence between your fingers and his. The distance that didn’t use to be there. The way you won’t look at him for too long, like he might read too much in your eyes.

Max isn’t good with emotional guessing games. He’s never been the type to bottle things up or pretend everything’s fine when it isn’t. He doesn’t do insecure. He confronts things. Fixes things. Puts it all on the table and makes it make sense.

And Max doesn’t know how to read silence the way he reads telemetry. He doesn’t know how to fix something when he doesn’t know where the break is.

He replays your interactions hunting for the mistake. Did he forget something important? Miss a signal? Are you sick or bored?

Is she pulling away because she’s planning to leave?

The thought stops him in his tracks. His chest aches with it, sharp and sudden. He sits with it, stunned, rubs at his sternum like he can soothe the ache.

You’re still sweet. Still say good luck before he gets into the car. Still text him updates about your day, what podcast you listened to, what ridiculous thing your coworker said. Still fold his shirts when he leaves them in a pile at the foot of the bed. Still laugh at the stupid jokes he makes when he’s overtired. You're still there.

But it’s different. Your body has gone quiet, your touch has gone still. Less warm. Less you.

And Max, who never thought he’d crave something so soft, so intangible starts to feel the absence like a phantom limb, it feels like someone turned off the sun and expects him not to notice. And it terrifies him because he doesn’t know what he did to lose it, or how to ask for it back.

You can feel the ache in your chest growing stronger every day.

You don’t want to stop touching him. You miss touching him. You miss his warmth, the way he instinctively leans into your touch even when he’s focused on something. You miss curling into his lap without thinking, his fingers combing through your hair like it’s second nature.

But now? Every time your hand so much as twitches toward him, doubt rushes in like cold water.

Am I smothering him again? Is this too much? Is this what he meant?

You thought you were just adjusting. Giving him the space you assume he needs. You told yourself it was mature, respectful, kind, but it’s starting to feel less like an adjustment and more like a punishment.

Every second you don’t touch him? It hurts. In tiny, deceptive ways like a thousand paper cuts.

By the end of the next week, you’re sitting on the hotel bed in Jeddah, scrolling through your phone in silence, without reading a word, wrapped in one of his hoodies that still smells like his aftershave. Max pauses when he sees how far you’re sitting from the edge of the mattress. From him.

That’s when he finally speaks.

“Did I do something?”

You blink. “What?”

“You’ve been...” He trails off, eyes searching yours. “Distant.”

You hesitate. “No, I’m just tired.”

He studies your face for a long moment hoping you’ll offer somthing more, but when nothing comes he doesn’t push. Just nods slowly, then climbs into bed beside you.

You don’t cuddle him that night.

You face the other way, pretending to scroll while your chest feels like it’s being wrung out.

Max doesn’t say anything, but you feel the shift, the slight dip of the mattress, the warmth of his body inching closer in the dark, not quite touching. He stops just shy of you, like he wants to reach out but doesn’t know if he’s allowed to, like he’s hoping you’ll turn around and meet him there.

It takes until Sunday night, after the race for everything to crack open.

You’re both back at the hotel. Max steps out of the shower, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends, sweatpants slung low on his hips. You’re perched on the window seat, knees pulled to your chest, phone resting forgotten in your lap as you stare out over Jeddah’s lights.

You think maybe you’ll just go to sleep early. Then Max sits beside you.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just sits close enough to feel the heat off your arm. He’s never been good at this part, the vulnerable bit. The what if it’s in my head bit. The what if I’m asking for something she doesn’t want to give me anymore bit.

The part where he has to name the thing that’s been gnawing at him for weeks. The part where he has to admit he's scared he’s already lost something and just hasn’t caught up to it yet.

He’s spent enough time memorising the way you speak when you're lying. You don’t flinch or fumble. You just get quieter. Softer. Like you’re afraid the truth will hurt more than the silence.

But he needs the truth now, because he’s been tying himself in knots trying to figure it out. Replaying conversations in his head, wondering if he forgot someone’s birthday or crossed a line or said something he shouldn’t have.

And now all he wants is to be close. To be touched. Held. Seen.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, voice low, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

“Yeah…” you say, trailing off.

And then, when you don’t say anything else, something in your eyes flickers and he just knows.

Max’s heart kicks hard in his chest, the kind of lurch he only gets right before lights out. He swallows, throat dry, like he’s one bad move away from losing something he doesn’t know how to live without.

“I miss you,” he says, voice quiet. “Even when you’re right here.”

You close your eyes. Then you look at him, really look, and something in you gives. Like you’ve been carrying a weight for days and it’s finally too much to hold, too much to hide.

“I heard you,” you say.

His brow furrows. “Heard me?”

“On the phone,” you clarify. “With Daniel. A couple of weeks ago”

Max’s pauses for a second, trying to remember, and then his stomach drops.

“You heard that?”

You nod slowly, eyes still on the window. “You said I’m always on you. That I’m really touchy. That you’re not used to it.”

His expression shifts, jaw tight, eyes suddenly filled with something that looks a lot like guilt.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I wasn’t trying to. But after that...” You pull your sleeves over your hands, voice quieter now. “I started wondering if I’d been overwhelming you. If I was too much—”

“Wait, baby—”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, force you into something you don’t want.” you rush on. “So I’ve been trying to give you space. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Max’s heart actually hurts.

He didn’t even realise how it might’ve sounded. He remembers the conversation now, half-distracted, casual, him laughing while Daniel joked about your human magnet tendencies. It hadn’t meant anything to him, just a passing comment… but it had meant everything to you.

“Hey,” he says, reaching for your hand. “Look at me.”

You look up. Max’s brows are drawn together. He looks devastated.

“I swear I never meant that in a bad way,” he says. “I wasn’t complaining. I was just… explaining it. I’ve never been with someone as affectionate as you, it caught me off guard at first sure. But I love it. I love the way you love me.”

A beat. His voice softens.

“When you stopped reaching for me, I didn’t know what to do. I’ve been going crazy wondering why it felt like you were slipping away.”

You bite your lip, blinking quickly. “I thought I was just annoying you, that you were putting up with it because you love me, not because you wanted it.”

His forehead drops to yours, hands sliding to your waist, holding tight. “No. God, no. Baby, it’s the best part of my day. You crawling into my lap, always reaching for me. It makes me feel wanted... like I matter, like I make you feel safe.”

He leans back just slightly, fingers sliding to your jaw, cradling it gently.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “If I made you feel like you were too much. If I made you doubt what we have. That was never what I meant. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that you thought you had to pull away from me just to make me comfortable.”

Your lips part slightly, like you're shocked by the weight of his words.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he admits. “Watching you pull away, thinking maybe I’d done something. I was scared I lost you and didn’t even know when it happened.”

“I wasn’t,” you whisper. “I swear I wasn’t pulling away from you… at least not like that, I just thought I was doing the right thing.”

“I know that now,” he says. “But please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop”

Your arms are around him before he finishes the sentence.

He exhales into your neck, like he’s been holding his breath for days. Pulls you into his lap like he’s afraid you’ll vanish again. His hands spread across your back, and for the first time in a while something in him settles.

You crawl further into his lap like it’s where you belong. Arms around his neck. Fingers threading into his hair. He exhales like someone finally handed him back something precious.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin.

“I’m right here.”

He pulls back, eyes soft. “Don’t stop being you, okay? Promise me.”

You nod. “Promise.”

Later, curled up in bed, you trace lazy lines across his chest with your fingertips.

“You really don’t mind?” you ask sleepily.

“Mind?” he echoes, mouth brushing your forehead. “I crave you.”

You smile into his skin, small and shy.

He kisses your hair again. “You ruined me.”

“Good,” you murmur, already drifting.

You’re here. Wrapped around him, where you belong.

And Max? Max feels like he can finally breathe again.

hiii how are you ?

can I request a dad Charles where his daughter tells everyone that she French instead of Monegasque (just like Arthur) and Charles is just losing it every time she says it

She's Monegasque, not French

It started innocently, as most things with toddlers do.

Charles was sitting in the Ferrari motorhome, his three-year-old daughter Yn nestled comfortably in his lap, her tiny hands clutching a crayon-streaked drawing of what she insisted was “Papa’s race car.” The sun was bright, the paddock buzzing with media and mechanics and laughter as the summer European leg of the season carried on in full swing.

And then it happened.

“Papa,” she said sweetly, tilting her head up at him, eyes wide and so heartbreakingly sincere, “I’m French.”

Charles blinked.

“Quoi?” he said, pulling back slightly, eyebrows lifting in gentle confusion. “Ma chérie, no, you’re not French. You’re Monegasque, like Papa.”

Yn looked at him, lips pursed, deep in thought. And then she gave a little shrug. “Non. I’m French, like Uncle Thur.”

Charles groaned softly and let his head fall back against the couch. “Not this again.”

From across the room, Arthur—lounging lazily in a chair, eating grapes like he was Caesar in a past life—choked on his laughter.

“I didn’t teach her that,” Arthur said through wheezes. “She came up with it on her own. Genius, really.”

“You encourage it!” Charles accused, pointing an indignant finger at his younger brother. “You always say you’re French!”

“Well, I am French,” Arthur said with a grin. “Monegasque passport and everything. And clearly, Yn has excellent taste.”

“Excellent taste in traitors. And Monaco is not France,” Charles muttered, pulling Yn closer as if cuddling her tightly would somehow absorb her back into Monegasque pride.

But it didn’t stop there.

No, Yn had decided. French it was.

She told the Ferrari PR team she was French when they asked where she was from. She announced it proudly to the camera when someone tried to film a cute moment with her and her dad. She whispered it solemnly to Carlos while sitting in his lap eating strawberries.

“Papa’s sad ‘cause I’m French,” she told Carlos.

Carlos, eyes sparkling with mischief, leaned in conspiratorially. “That’s okay, Princesa. I’m Spanish, and he still talks to me.”

“Does he love you?” Yn asked, dead serious.

Carlos blinked. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Then maybe he’ll still love me even if I’m French.”

Behind them, Charles face-palmed.

The drivers got wind of it quickly—because of course they did.

By the next day, the jokes were relentless.

“So,” Lando said at breakfast in the hotel, stirring sugar into his coffee like he was preparing to deliver a monologue. “Do I address her as ‘Mademoiselle Yn’ now or...?”

“She’s not French,” Charles groaned.

“She told my engineer she wants her birthday cake in the shape of the Eiffel Tower,” Max deadpanned, walking by and tossing Charles a sympathetic look. “Good luck with that.”

Even Seb, who was visiting that weekend with his kids, gave Charles a comforting pat on the back. “At least she’s not saying she’s German. Yet.”

And then there was Esteban.

“Oh, this is fantastique,” Esteban beamed, scooping Yn up in the paddock one afternoon. “You’re French, just like me!”

Yn squealed and threw her arms around his neck. “Oui!”

Charles practically melted into the tarmac. “Mon dieu…”

But it was Arthur who reveled in it most.

He started wearing a beret. A beret, for god’s sake.

One afternoon in the hospitality tent, he presented Yn with a baguette and a small fake mustache. “For my fellow French citizen,” he declared proudly.

“Merci, Uncle Thur!” Yn beamed, sticking the mustache crookedly on her nose.

“I am living in a cartoon,” Charles mumbled into his hands.

No amount of explaining helped.

“But Monaco is in France,” she argued one night while Charles tucked her into bed in the team’s motorhome. “It’s right there.”

“No, chérie,” Charles said gently, brushing her curls back. “It’s close, but it’s its own country. Like Papa said before, remember?”

“I like France better.”

He sighed and tried the next best tactic: bribery.

“If you say you’re Monegasque again,” he whispered conspiratorially, “Papa will buy you ten ice creams tomorrow.”

Yn narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “What kind?”

“Any kind. Strawberry. Chocolate. All of them.”

“Hmm…” she tapped her chin with exaggerated thought. “I still wanna be French.”

He clutched his chest. “Traitor.”

The situation hit a new peak during the Saturday driver briefing. Yn, accompanied by Carlos and Charles, had been allowed to come along briefly before things got official. She toddled in wearing sunglasses way too big for her face and a little Ferrari cap.

Yuki crouched down to her level with a big smile. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Yn.”

“I’m French!” she declared proudly, striking a pose.

Yuki laughed. “That’s so cool! Then you must know that Uncle Pierre is also French!”

Yn froze.

All the drivers went still.

Charles raised his head slowly, eyes narrowing.

Yn’s nose scrunched up.

“…Uncle Pierre?”

“Yes,” Yuki chirped, unaware he was about to break the world’s most stubborn three-year-old. “He’s very French. Like super French.”

The silence that followed could have swallowed a pit lane.

Charles watched her face shift—concentration, confusion… and then determination.

She took off her sunglasses, turned to her father, and declared solemnly, “Papa. I’m not French anymore.”

Charles blinked. “You’re not?”

“I’m Monegasque now.”

“...Why?”

She folded her arms. “I don’t wanna be the same as Uncle Pierre.”

“WHAT?!” Pierre shouted from across the room, utterly betrayed.

Arthur was on the floor, laughing so hard he nearly cried. “Nooo! The French alliance has fallen!”

Carlos, barely holding it together, whispered, “Monaco wins.”

Charles scooped Yn up with the biggest grin he’d worn in days. “You have made Papa so proud.”

Yn patted his cheek. “Do I still get ice cream?”

He laughed, hugging her tight. “You can have all the ice cream you want, mon amour.”

Behind him, Pierre was muttering in disbelief, “What did I do? What did I do?”

And from that day on, Yn was proudly, defiantly, loyally Monegasque.

Until next week, when she decided she wanted to be Italian because “Papa’s car is red like Italy.”

And Charles just sighed into his espresso.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

Found Family

summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.

pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader

word count: 8.2k

preview

a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)

reblogs are appreciated!

“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 

“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 

“Good. Nightwing?” 

“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 

“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 

“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 

“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 

Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”

“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 

Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”

He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 

Attempt 1: G6B24 

Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)

Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 

Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision

‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 

“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 

Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.

His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 

“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 

“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.

Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 

“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 

The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.

You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 

“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.

You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.

“Batman?” 

Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.

Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 

You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 

Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 

"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.

He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."

You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 

When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.

They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 

“Hello?” 

“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”

“What’s going o-”

He hung up. 

Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 

Damian covered his laugh with a cough.

You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 

Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 

Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 

Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.

Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.

You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.

He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 

“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 

Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 

You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 

He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”

You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.

Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 

Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 

You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 

Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 

“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 

You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?

“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 

Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 

At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 

Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.

Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 

You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.

“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  

Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 

You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 

“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 

“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 

Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 

“Wayne.” 

He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”

“Wayne.”

This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”

The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 

Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”

“No.” came their simultaneous response. 

Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 

Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 

Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 

Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”

Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”

Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”

You nodded, “I like it.” 

Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”

Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 

Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 

Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 

Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 

You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 

You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 

“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 

“They’re fine…Thank you.”

He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 

You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 

You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 

Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner

You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 

You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 

Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 

Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 

“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.

He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 

You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 

“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.

His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 

“How?” 

All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 

“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 

Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”

“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 

Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 

Bruce simply gave a nod. 

Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 

Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.

Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 

Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 

She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 

Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”

“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 

“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.

Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”

You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”

“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 

Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 

He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”

“Sounds about right.” 

Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 

The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.

The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.

Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 

“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  

The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 

“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.

“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 

You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 

Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 

You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 

Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.

Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 

“This better be good.” 

Tim mumbled, “Finally” 

“Miss me Timmy?” 

“Quite the contrary.”

The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 

His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 

“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 

Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 

“Holy shit, man.” 

“Jason, will you shut up?” 

“Never.” 

“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 

“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 

“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 

“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 

“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 

Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 

“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 

“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 

“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 

Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 

Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 

“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 

Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 

Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 

“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 

She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 

“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 

Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 

“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 

“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.

“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 

“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 

“I want time with her, Bruce.” 

“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 

Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 

Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 

You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”

She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”

You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

Clark gave you a fond smile. 

Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 

The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 

“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 

You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 

It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 

You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 

He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”

“I suppose so.” 

“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 

“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 

“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 

Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 

A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 

You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 

Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 

You nodded, “Yes, please.” 

Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 

“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”

Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”

Cass nodded in agreement. 

“We’re just buying training clothes.” 

“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 

You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 

“See?”

Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”

Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 

When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.

Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 

You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 

The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.

He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 

He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 

The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 

By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.

The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 

When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 

The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.

As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 

You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 

He nodded, walking away to change as well. 

You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 

“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”

You nodded.

“Let’s see it.” 

You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.

Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.

Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”

He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”

You nodded. Made sense. 

“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 

You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.

Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 

You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 

This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 

Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 

You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.

The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.

He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 

And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 

“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 

You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 

You nodded, “How are we doing that?”

He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 

You nodded. 

“Okay… and…. Go!”

You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 

“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 

You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 

They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 

That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 

They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 

The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 

Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 

Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 

You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.

Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 

Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.

Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 

You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.

Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.

Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.

True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.

Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 

You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.

Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 

You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.

Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’

Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 

Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.

These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.

These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.

And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.

You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.

Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag (I'm not sure why some people's tags didn't work,, I am very sorry, if anyone has suggestions onhow to fix that i'm open to fix them)

OC Reincarnated as Damian Wayne's Older Sister

[Here] Reincarnation never guarantees your freedom

[Here] To be free is to take matters into your own hands (wrapped around a sharpened blade)

[Here] Point of convergence

[Here] We meet again

spiderling ; peter parker.

sequel to particles!

pairing ; peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis ; peter was supposed to find you after strange wiped everyone's memory of him away. instead, you found him.

words ; 2.0k

themes ; angst, mild fluff and comedy

warnings / includes ; lots of feels crammed into this, peter is a flustered mess, reader is an insanely smart kid of tony’s, mentions of may and the rest of the spidey gang :(

main masterlist.

Ever since Peter had asked Strange to wipe the entire world’s memory of him, things had been… uneventful to say the least. He studied, he worked two boring jobs for a low minimum wage, and he visited May’s grave every afternoon. 

There wasn’t much else to do when nobody knew him as Peter Parker. 

Sometimes, he’d go out in his itchy, make-shift spider suit that he’d fashioned with bright fabrics from a corner store that also sold his most favorite orange-flavored popsicles, stopping common crime as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Other than that… he slept. He played Crossy Road on his phone—or he’d rewatch the Star Wars movies for the billionth time. 

He thought of his best friends, Ned and MJ. He thought of his brothers, Peter 2 and 3. He thought of his Aunt May, and Happy, who visited her grave almost as frequently as he did. He thought of the closest thing he had to a father figure, Tony Stark. He thought of Mr. Stark’s oldest kid—which he used to refer to as his significant other. 

The love of his life. 

Y/N Stark.

Peter missed you. He missed you more than anything in the entire world. He missed your wide smile and the specific way you’d throw your head back and laugh so hard you’d be grabbing onto his arm, gasping for breath. He missed how you’d press your chest into his back and kiss along his neck while he did his physics homework, quietly mumbling corrections to his calculations when he’d distractedly scribbled down the wrong formula. He missed how Mr. Stark would pull him to the side to give him the ‘Responsible Dad Talk’ just about every time the two of you hung out together, and how you’d have to tell your dad that you could make your own decisions and you didn’t need him to hover over the two of you.

Besides, you used to say with a soft smile, it’s Peter. You know Peter. He’s… he’s Peter. He’d never hurt me, pops.

But he did hurt you. He erased all the memories you had together—he completely wiped himself out of your life.

You loved him—and he had taken that away from you. 

“I love you,” you had whispered into him as you hugged him tight, a tear slipping down the corner of your misty eyes. Peter wrapped his arms around your waist and held you all the closer. “Come back to me, Peter. Or… or I swear to fucking God—I’ll find you myself and—” 

Your words died on your tongue as he surged forward and kissed you, hard and desperate. The kiss tasted of salt from your tears, of coppery blood from his throbbing, split lip. Neither of you cared.

You hiccupped a sob when he reluctantly pulled away, pressing one last kiss to your grimy forehead, before letting you go entirely. He turned before he could see you crumpling into MJ and Ned, who had roped you into a pained embrace, your shoulders trembling with wracking cries. 

That was five months ago. Five months after Strange wiped everybody’s memories of him.

He’d wanted to find you again—he really did. Obviously, you were an extremely busy person, not only being the oldest kid of Tony Stark, but also a genius student, a researcher, the heir of an entire company, and an older sibling to Morgan. But, if he was completely honest, he didn’t really know what to say.

Hey, I’m Peter Parker and I’m in love with you, but I never got the chance to tell you because this wizard that’s sort of a friend of your dad’s erased everyone’s memory of me because the multiverse broke and a bunch of bad guys from other universes slipped into ours because I ruined my friend’s chances of getting into their dream college—

Yeah. That wouldn’t really work out, would it?

So he put it off. 

Put it off for a week, which rolled into two, which became three, which became three months.

All of a sudden, it was summer, and he still hadn’t seen you. 

He made sure to go to the coffee shop MJ worked at, just to see how she and Ned were faring. From what he heard while he eavesdropped—they were doing great at MIT. 

Peter tried his best to keep up with you through those news articles that kept flashing him ads like You Wouldn’t Believe What This Celebrity Looks Like Without Makeup! or Learn All About Steve Rogers’ Exercise Routine! 

There wasn’t much that he could find about you, other than a couple pictures of you with your little sister, Morgan, chowing down on cheeseburgers at McDonald’s. After all, you’d always been a rather private person, which was the one jarring difference between you and your infamously public father. 

Your social medias were, expectedly, all privated. Peter doubted you’d accept his follow request, anyway.

It was an ordinary Tuesday—Peter had a shift at a car garage in a couple hours, which left him quite a bit of time to burn. He had ACDC softly playing in the background—a band that both you and your dad had been completely infatuated with—half a dozen books spread out around him as he multi-tasked studying new chemical compounds for his web fluid, and rotational mechanics for an upcoming exam. 

Then, much to his surprise, the doorbell rang. 

It’s probably the landlord, Peter thought with a grimace, thinking of the old woman who always had a cigarette between her coarse fingers, despite her own strict policy of no smoking in the building. He turned the music down to a low thrum, before swinging the door open.

And… there you were.

Peter could feel his heart drop to the floor.

You were… God, you were beautiful. There wasn’t much about you that changed—you got a new pair of glasses, he could see, and you’d cut your hair shorter. There was a tattoo peeking slightly out of your loose-hanging t-shirt etched over your skin, depicting a sketch of an arc reactor, in memory of your late father. 

Besides that, you were the very same. The same bright, intelligent eyes, the same lips that puckered ever so slightly to the side in thought, and the same brows that knitted together whenever you were concentrating. 

Your hands were shoved into your jeans as you cocked your head, studying him with narrowed eyes.

“Erm,” Peter started, mouth opening and closing as his brain struggled to comprehend that you were here. In the flesh. Fuck, you were gorgeous. “Wh… Y/N?”

Your eyebrow arched high up, closer to your hairline. “First name basis already, huh?”

“I’m—”

“You’re the Spiderling, aren’t you?” you asked abruptly, nearly giving him whiplash. Before he could say anything else, you were swiping your phone open, a hologram of a Youtube video playing right in front of his face. The video displayed Spider-Man swinging from building to building, stopping a car from ramming into an elderly woman crossing the street with nothing but brute strength. Peter didn’t even remember that happening. To him, that was just an ordinary day. “That must’ve been, what—like, thirty-five hundred pounds, about fifty miles an hour? Impressive.”

“Wh—”

You brushed past him into his tiny apartment. Peter cursed himself for not throwing away the pizza boxes stacked on his kitchen counter, and for leaving his sketches of web shooters out on his desk. 

A small smile graced your lips as you spotted the blue and red scrap fabrics discarded into the trash can. “Hm. You make your own suit? My dad did, too. God—are those goggles?” You picked up his vision goggles from his unmade bed, peering through them as you snorted in amusement. “How on earth do you see anything though these?”

“I—”

You turned to him with an intrigued grin. “I’m sure you already know who I am, seeing as you knew my dad. It’s nice to finally meet you, Spiderling.”

Peter blinked. The overwhelming sense of deja vu washed over him like a tidal wave—you were behaving eerily similar to when Mr. Stark had approached him to go to Germany back in 2016.

“I… how…”

“What’s your name?” you asked, gingerly stepping over his textbooks to stare at his pinboard, where his calendar hung. 

“Peter,” he finally mumbled in reply, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “And it’s Spider-Man, not Spiderling. What are you doing here? I mean, not that I don’t want you here, but, uhm—how did you find me?”

You looked over your shoulder with a knowing glint to your eyes. “I keep tabs on everybody my dad used to work with. Honestly, it wasn't too difficult to track you down—given the radius of where Spider-Man usually frequents and his response times to local crimes, it was easy to pinpoint where you lived. After my AI ran a couple voice recognition tests and estimated bodily proportions, that led me right to you.” You leaned against his rickety wooden desk with a curious grin. “Thought you’d be a bit older, though. Looks like you’re around my age.”

“I… that’s… wow.”

Wrinkling your nose in amusement, you turned back to his full calendar. 

Peter prayed you wouldn’t flip over to your birthday month—he’d circled your birthday with bright red sharpie and drew loopy hearts all over the little square. Thankfully, you stopped skimming through, pausing at the relatively empty weeks where he had nothing planned other than a few work shifts.

“Looks like you’re free from school in a couple weeks,” you said. “I know this is really sudden and very abrupt of me, but—I’d love to offer you a job at Stark Labs. You must be crazy smart to design synthetic webs with a Young’s modulus that’s off the charts. Could really use that brain of yours at my company. Plus, you’ve got a lot of work experience in the bag.” 

There was a beat of silence. Peter stared at you with parted lips. 

A bit more timidly, you added on, “And… it’d be nice to work with someone that knew my dad.”

Well, Peter didn’t want to brag, but he’d definitely say that he didn’t only just know Tony Stark. But you didn’t need to know that right at this moment. 

“Yes,” he blurted out, a bit louder than necessary. “Are you kidding me? That’s… that’s amazing! Yeah, oh my God, I’d love to! Thank you!”

Before he could stop himself, his body moved out of pure muscle memory and excitement, stepping forward to wind his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. Your familiar perfume made his eyes well with tears—fuck, he missed you so fucking much.

“Oh—” you began to say, muscles tensing. “Okay, then. You’re welcome, pal.”

Rouge flushed hotly over his cheeks as he realized that you weren’t his significant other anymore—in your mind, this was the first time the two of you were meeting. Quickly, he let you go, backing away with a grimace. 

“Sorry,” he winced. “Sorry, I just—”

“Have we met before?” you asked, cutting him off. “I don’t know… it just feels like… nevermind. I’d probably remember a cute face like yours.” 

Peter’s face burned an even brighter shade of red. 

“Here’s my contact information. I’ll send you any contracts, NDAs, legality issues, dates for any research projects you might be interested in joining, payment negotiations, all that jazz,” you told him, placing a card onto his desk. “I look forward to working with you, Patrick.”

“Peter,” he corrected.

A smile played with the corner of your lips. “Right. Peter. Nice music taste, by the way. I love ACDC—I can see why my dad liked you so much.” 

With that, you ambled over his scattered belongings on the floor, flashing him one last beam, before striding straight out the door. 

Peter stared at the open doorway for a minute—or was it an hour? He really couldn’t tell. 

He collapsed into his bed, the goggles you’d dangled digging into his back. He arched up just enough to pull it away, clutching it to his chest with a goofy smile.

You found him. 

Against all odds, you’d found him.

Fuck, Peter loved you so much.

Telling you though—now that was a different story entirely. One that Peter knew was going to take time. 

But for you… 

He’d wait centuries.

On the edge of everything

Request: “Can you do an imagine where the reader keeps trying to leave neverland and pan wont let her because shes his and he actually loves her.”

“I hope you will enjoy this! It is a little dark… but yeah, enjoy!^^” - Tiger Lily <3

On the edge of everything

“Maybe I shouldn’t have gone this way…” You muttered to yourself eying the tall mountain rising over you, a dark gloomy sky behind it. The trees are towering above you, and you keep looking over your shoulder, making sure that no one were following you. There was a cliff, a special one that stopped abruptly and led to the deepest grounds. It is said that if you jumped down you would pass into another world. There was a portal, but you could miss it. Now after having tried to make the shadow take you home, but then being caught by Peter and pulled to the ground, having tried to make a trade with a mermaid but then she was nearly killed by Peter’s arrow. You could say that your chances had run out, there was only one left. But why are you leaving Neverland? Neverland was amazing, full of adventures and never-ending quests and journeys. There were dangers, but for a person liking this freedom and liking to test itself, well Neverland would be perfect. You had just fallen in the worst traps of all. You had fallen in love with Peter Pan. He did talk to you at times and take you on quests together with some lost boys, but then that was it. Whenever you dared to walk over and talk to him he had other plans that were more important. You felt alone and you felt stupid. Why did your heart only see him when he never even glanced at you? Still you couldn’t help but feel confused. Peter had personally stopped you from leaving every time, the first time he pinned you to the ground. “Where do you think you’re going?” He had asked, voice laced with anger. “Are you trying to leave Neverland?” He stood up and looked at you with an amused expression. “You cannot leave Neverland, love. Not without my permission.” And then he had vanished. Left you to sit there alone and frustrated. Couldn’t he see that you didn’t want to be in Neverland? When he nearly shot the mermaid you told her to flee, and then you spun around to look at Peter Pan with both fear and anger. “You could’ve killed her!” You tried to say, but were silenced when Peter’s gaze turned dark.   “If you don’t want to be here you shouldn’t have come here in the first place.” He had said. “Now you’re here and now you’ll stay. Forever.” But forever could easily end. You knew that for a fact. You didn’t come to Neverland for no reason. Now with the dark sky above you threatening to unleash and pour down streams of cold rain, you were trying to leave once again. If you failed this time, you would die and Peter couldn’t stop you. As you reached the cliff, coming out upon it through a wall of bushes, the rain had already begun to fall. You eyed the sky, was it trying to warn you? Or trying to warn someone else?     “You sure are stubborn.” You spun around and stepped back in shock when you saw him stand there, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl upon his face. You were two steps away from the edge.   “Trying to kill yourself too?” He asked through gritted teeth stepping forward and you took a threatening step back as well. “Stop it, y/n.” He pleaded and you frowned, narrowing your eyes at him.   “What do you mean?”   “You can’t leave.” He stated but it sounded like another plea.   “Let me show you.” You threatened and took a last step back, now your right foot was just on the edge and Peter reached out for you and stepped forward.   “I’m telling you can’t!” He cried and gripped out for you but you leaned away.   “Why can’t I?!” You yelled at him and he looked up at you with widened eyes. You were both drenched, his bangs stuck to his forehead and you wouldn’t even know if he was crying because the rain stuck to his eyelashes and made it look like it. You yourself felt cold, but you couldn’t care less. Peter reached out a hand for you to take, but you just looked down at it. “Because I don’t want you to.”   “Well, and then when this is over you’re gonna go back to all your business as if I don’t exist and how does that show you don’t want me to leave? You don’t care!”   “I CARE!” He roared and his voice echoed in the dark space around you. “You just don’t see it! If you weren’t there I wouldn’t know what to do. I make sure you’re okay and make sure you don’t get hurt, but I…”   “You don’t even talk to me?!”   “Because I don’t know how to! I don’t know what this is. I don’t know how to react, I just want to be near you and have you here with me.” You looked at him with disbelief while he stepped closer and you felt his hand on the side of your face, it was cold but still you felt your skin burn where his met with yours. “I… I think I love you, y/n.”   “Then show me.” You pleaded and he looked down on your lips and then into your eyes. You felt his thumb caress them and you inhaled shakily. On the edge of everything, Peter leaned in and kissed you. When you opened your eyes again you were surrounded by white walls and after looking around you realized you were in his tent.   “This time, after stopping you from leaving, I won’t leave you either.” He said and kissed you once more.

x

Not as good as it could be though. Still I hope that you liked it! I’m gonna try and see if I can do better with the next one! Please like if you enjoyed it, thank you!^^ <3

Sincerely, Tiger Lily. <3

The Salt

Had to write this because I am captivated by Sally Jackson and her lover (the Sea god). Please enjoy.

A man.

More than that.

A dream.

She’d been dreaming for weeks of the sea. Of waves, crashing against the cliffs with foam and spray. The salt that would linger on her skin, on her lips. How her hair would move, how her feet would tread in the sand.

But more than that.

Green eyes, the color of seawater when it rushes over the sand. Dark curly hair, tanned skin that she somehow knew. A presence, a knowing, a voice.

Find me.

It was lunacy, insanity. The fantasies of a college grad knee deep in debt, dreaming in her tiny Manhattan apartment, of the sea and a kiss that tasted like saltwater. But it was easy, so easy to scrape her money together, to push her yelling boyfriend aside, and just go. Go far, far away from the noise and the job and the debt.

The sea would wash everything away.

For hours, she sat in that cabin on the dunes, watching the sun get low, just thinking. The boyfriend. The arguments. The broken plate, her favorite blue plate, shattered on the floor. The blue and violet bruise on her ribs. She turned over her shoulder and gazed at the dusty mirror.

Wavy brown hair, a few white hairs here and there. Gray eyes, the color of thunderstorms. A white dress she’d bought at a tiny shop, embroidered in gold thread. She didn’t wear sandals, she wanted to feel the sand beneath her, to let the waves wash over her.

The sun made the sky a thousand shades, the clouds like splotches of paint on an indigo sky. The sand was soft beneath her, and she picked up her dress as the water lapped at her feet. Quiet. Calm. Her eyes closed, and she began to smile, soft and slow.

“The sea has a way of bringing things back to us.” A voice said, deep and gentle as the water beneath her.

She opened her eyes, and she saw a man. A dream.

He stood, knee deep in the surf, smiling at her. When he saw she was looking at him, his smile widened and she saw brilliant white teeth, the lines around his eyes creasing. She thought, blushing as she did, that he looked like something from the old movies she watched when she was younger.

The line of his jaw was terribly romantic. His nose was straight from the Greek busts she’d seen in her college textbooks. His eyes, a brilliant shade of sea-green, even from where she stood. His dark hair, messy and rather gorgeous. But it wasn’t just how he looked.

“What?” She managed.

He laughed, a rich sound that made her consider collapsing into the ocean and never coming up again. “You’re smiling.” He said, “Smiling in a way that only the sea can bring out of people.”

She smiled back at him, “Oh? And you know the sea?”

He grinned in a way that seemed he had a secret, “I know it well.”

She let her dress drop into the water, holding out her hand, “I’m Sally. Sally Jackson.”

He walked up to her and even though she held his gaze, she felt her head tilting back. He was taller than she’d thought, a head taller than her, maybe more. Oh, don’t you dare, she said to herself, don’t you dare Sally Jackson. Don’t. You. Dare.

He took her hand, and rather than shake it, gently pressed his lips to it.

Well, that’s just over the top, she thought somewhat faintly.

She tucked her hair behind her ear nervously, “Won’t you introduce yourself?”

He tilted his head, “I have many names. Which one would you like?”

She bit her lip, tapping her finger to her chin, “Hmm. John?”

He shook his head.

“James?” No. “Harry?” No.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I think we’ll just stick with nothing.” She said, “I don’t see why you can’t be mysterious.”

“I’m not mysterious.” He said simply, “But you’ll have to ask me to get an answer. And maybe I’ll ask you one.”

She walked slowly with him through the waves, “What do you do?”

“I’m a fisherman by trade. Always at sea. And where are you, Sally Jackson, when the sun rises?”

“Me? Oh, I live in Manhattan. I’m a waitress, but I’ve always wanted to be a writer.”

“Ah, a writer. What do you want to write?”

She blushed, looked away. He struggled not to laugh.

“You’re going to laugh. Everyone does.”

“I’m not laughing, but then again, I’m not everyone.”

“Oh, fine.” She turned to him, “Just once, before I write anything serious and important, I’d like to write one of those little romance novels that people buy to read at the beach or on a plane.”

He had promised not to laugh, but he did smile, from ear to ear. The sight made her a little drunk and she pushed lightly on his shoulder, “Oh come on!”

He laughed out loud, a sound that echoed across the water, “In my entire life, I’ve never met someone who wanted to write the little romance novels people read on a weekend.”

“Well, maybe you don’t read them, but people do.” She said determinedly, “People need romance. It’s like the sea, it’s this thing that connects everything and everyone, and it’s powerful and beautiful and it’ll sweep you off your feet if you’re not looking.”

“Have you fallen yet?” He asked, “Has the sea already swept you away?”

She knew he was looking at her, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. She shook her head, “No, no, I-“ She looked at the setting sun, “I think that I’m not made for the romance I write.”

“Why’s that?” He asked softly.

She turned to him, trying to make the conversation lighter. “Come on!” She said, “I’m reckless. I mean, I just grabbed some cash and left. Who does that?”

He shrugged, but his eyes twinkled.

She looked down, “I got my brand new dress wet, you know that?” She sighed and then winked.

His eyes were the last thing she saw as she fell back into the surf.

The water was gentle, caressing her skin. She stood, dripping wet and laughing. The look on his face made her stop.

He was looking at her. Staring at her. Like she was something else. Something more. It’s as if his eyes were hers and hers only, for this moment and the next.

She felt embarrassed. Standing in a dress clinging to her skin, in front of a man she just met. She knew what her boyfriend would think, and she wondered how many plates it would take for him to calm down.

“Sally.”

Her eyes flicked up to him. He looked…different. More powerful. His brows were knit together, his eyes dark and unreadable. “What?” She walked up to him, “What did I?”

He reached out, his large hands featherlight, and touched the side of her ribs. He did it incredibly gently, but she knew what he saw. Indigo and violet and sickly yellow, the massive bruise on her side.

“Oh.” She said lightly, “Oh, I must have fallen.”

His eyes practically burned her, “Sally, I know what makes marks like these.”

As carefully as he could, he curled his hand around her ribs. His fingers were longer and wider, but the marks were identical. “Don’t tell me I’m overstepping.” He said quietly, “Not when you’re owed better than this.”

She pushed him hard, but he barely moved.

“Sally.” She kept walking, pushing her hair from her face, gasping for breath. What was she doing, on a beach in Montauk? Letting a man touch her, look at her like-like that? Her boyfriend would be waiting at home, with a beer bottle and a fist. A broken plate, her favorite plate.

“Sally-“ His hand closed around her wrist and she turned to him, face streaked with tears.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I am owed.” She said, her body shaking, “It’s none of your business what me and my-“

“Your what?” He said sharply, “Your lover? Tell me, Sally Jackson, do they write that in your romance books? Black and blue bruises, screaming fights, broken plates?”

She hesitated, “Broken plates? How did you-“

“Because I do.” He said simply, “Because when you’ve lived a life like I have, you know many women with bruises. The sea washes away many things, Sally, but it won’t help you forget.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Who are you?”

His eyes were sad, noble.

“Poseidon.” He replied, “God of the sea. The sea that washes away many things.” He took her hand and pressed it to her side. Her eyes widened. She looked down.

Her bruise had vanished.

“My dreams.” She said softly, “You. You called to me.”

He smiled gently, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “You came. The sea has always been your home, as it’s been mine.”

“I don’t understand.” She whispered, looking up at him, “Why? Why did you want me? When I’m-when I’m-“

His hands cradled her face, “Sally Jackson, you are worthy of the Manhattan skyline. Of every romance in the world. No man can diminish that, no matter what he tells you.”

She touched his face and he leaned into her hand. “In every dream, you were kind. In every memory of the sea, the sea has always been gentle to me.” She ran her thumb gently over his lips and he kissed her palm, “I knew you before I met you. And before I knew you, I wished I did.”

There were tears in his eyes. What power she must have, she thought to herself, to make the god of the sea weep saltwater tears. But she learned there were many kinds of salt.

The rough calluses of his hand in hers, skin hardened by years of salt. The way the sea water seemed to dance around them as he carried her through the higher tides. The salt of the air that made his hair ruffle in the winds, his eyes forever on her.

For days, she read out her stories and he laid on the sand and listened. He would hum in a quiet baritone, and for once, the waves hushed just so she could hear him sing. They swam until she got tired and he would wrap her in his arms and hold her until the stars came up.

He told her secrets, things no mortal ever knew. Scars on his body, and the memories from a thousand years ago. She could stare at him for hours, just to listen to his laugh or to see how his eyes gleamed when he looked at her.

One night, he gave her a pearl and she gave him a kiss. A kiss on salty lips, so tender that he swore to wear it on his mouth forever. But she knew and he knew, it couldn’t last.

The tide was going out and she stood in the sand. Holding her hand was a young boy, with sea green eyes and black hair. She wore the dress she wore the day they met. On her neck was a pearl.

He stood in the water, looking at her. She had hardly aged, but he felt as if he had lived a lifetime, captivated in her eyes. When he would return to the sea, it would be like it never happened. Except for a pearl, forever concealed in a band around his finger.

He could have made her a queen. He begged her, pleaded on his knees, but she just shook her head. She asked him to stay, and he knew he couldn’t. It was how things should be, would be, forever.

But still, when they both turned away, there was a little more saltwater in the sea.

A Long, Long Time

As your twenty-fifth birthday approached, you were excited, of course you were, but you were also insanely nervous to meet the person the universe decided was the one for you.

It was the day before your birthday. You woke up at the time you usually did and laid for a while, staring up at the ceiling. Inhaling a deep breath, you sat up and looked down at your forearm, where, tomorrow, there would be a name written there in black ink, just like every other person on the planet.

Someone knocked on your door.

“I’m awake.” You called back.

“Can I come in?” It was Steve.

You’d been living at the Avengers Compound for the past year and so far, you loved it. Your life as an Avenger was many things, but it was never boring. Your powers made you a valuable asset to the team, and since you’d moved in, everyone had been super nice to you, but Steve, Mr. Captain Rogers himself, had been especially kind and sweet, making sure you had everything you needed.

Keep reading

Broken Pieces

Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Words: 5,3k

Warnings: protective bff & bias wrecker Choi Seungcheol; adult language; dumb and dumber, featuring awkward interactions.

[Soulmate AU] Your friend broke your soulmate's heart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of both his and your own heart.

(A spin-off / sequel to my soulmate!Kwon Soonyoung fic: "Right? Right.")

Your soulmate mark was a cat – just as your grandmother had predicted. Perhaps she knew what was good for you, perhaps she just knew you – either way she had been correct.

It was a doodle of a small fluffy cat who always seemed to be either busy or sleeping. Just like the marks of your friends, the cat went about its day on your wrist like an alive tattoo. Sometimes it slept, sometimes it read a book, sometimes it played piano – you wondered if your soulmate did the same.

The mark appeared on your sixteenth birthday and while you hoped you’d find your soulmate soon, it would be years until you saw him for the first time.

Your second year at university. That is when you met Lee Jihoon – handsome, soft-spoken, full of smiles and hope. He had chosen the same minor subject as you. 

At first you thought he was just another guy you’d have a crush on – just a hopeless short-term fantasy until you’d find the perfect person. But you were proven wrong four weeks into knowing him.

“Woah, careful there,” he spoke as he gently pushed you back upright after you had stumbled in the café. Queues are dangerous, you knew that already, but suddenly they were also a blessing. 

The moment his fingers touched your skin, a jolt of electricity ran through you. He seemed to pay it no mind, only offering you a friendly smile before turning back to his girlfriend. 

When you looked at your mark, the cat was clawing as if to break out of your skin and run to him. When you glanced at his wrist, a similar doodle – a spotted cat – was just as excited to meet your mark.

That was when you knew – Lee Jihoon was your soulmate. 

But the smile he offered to her told you that you stood no chance. Even if the fates had meant for you to meet and fall in love, your heart seemed to be meant to break. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night – whether from heartbreak or from the joy of finally finding him, you weren’t sure.

Months passed of just watching him. You didn’t dare to make conversation, didn’t dare to even look at him for long. Your heart ached for him. 

It was unfair to break his heart for stupid revenge. It was unfair to do his heart any harm at all. He deserved better.

Jihoon’s heart that held so much love once, and now you wondered if he would ever be able to feel love again at all – you didn’t think you would. Even just watching his heart break from the sidelines had been too painful. 

“Have you considered talking to him for a change?” Seungcheol suggested when he caught you staring at Jihoon at lunch. You failed to feel any amusement at his words even as he laughed at you.

Instead, you offered him a mild glare. “You think he’d want to talk to anybody after what he went through?”

“I mean,” Seungcheol thought for a moment before grimacing, “yeah, you have a point there.”

“I always have a point, Cheol,” you told him proudly and continued eating your food. “Besides, he probably wouldn’t talk to one of her friends anyway.”

Her. Han Eunmi. The girl who claimed to be his soulmate and broke his heart into a thousand pieces before you could tell him the truth and save him.

She had been your first friend at university. Her bright eyes and sweet smile were always the first to greet you in lectures. She always saved you a seat, even to this day. But something in her changed when she met her soulmate – you could barely recognise her anymore. Your best friend was your best friend no more.

“You should just grow some balls and tell him,” Seungcheol told you once again. He was all too familiar with the distant vengeful glint in your eyes. 

You wanted to kick him. “Says the one that still keeps covering his mark because of his commitment issues?” 

Glancing down at the near-comical amount of chain bracelets and the raccoon doodle sniffing around under them on his wrist, he pouted at your words. “I just don’t love the thought of soulmates.”

“No,” you laughed, “you just don’t like the thought of possibly getting your heart broken.”

“Then what’s your excuse?” 

Back when you first met him, you had felt so hopeful, so excited for your future. Watching him from afar was one thing, standing side-to-side with him in the café line was different. You could practically feel the fluffy cat on your wrist tugging you closer to him, scratching and jumping every time you moved your arm. 

But then she had uttered those words and your world collapsed inwards: “This is my boyfriend.” Even now you feel a little nauseous thinking about the moment: the self-satisfied smile on her face, the love-sick smile on his, his arm around her waist. You couldn’t even replay the memory in your head without wanting to cry.

You glanced towards Jihoon.

“He already got his heart broken,” you mumbled to Seungcheol dejectedly. “I don’t want to add to his problems.”

“I feel like finding his real soulmate would be the opposite of a problem for that poor guy,” Seungcheol said – no, stated. He was certain of his words. 

You wished they were true. With a sigh, you whispered, “Just leave it, Cheol. There’s no point anymore. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t even believe in soulmates anymore.”

It was obvious by the look in his eyes that Seungcheol wanted to argue. But he knew you well enough to not push it anymore.

“For this project, I need you guys to pair up,” professor Byun started, sounding about as tired as you felt in this 8 am class. Maybe he, too, craved an early coffee that he’d failed to acquire in his hurry to get to class on time. The thought made him a little more tolerable in your eyes.

“Do you guys want to pair up on your own or should I just do it myself?” he asked the class, but his eyes were practically begging you to choose the first option. Unluckily for your introvert self, the class immediately called out to pair up among themselves. He breathed out in relief just as you sighed in defeat. 

“Alright, I’ll give you guys…” He glanced at his watch and nodded. “Ten minutes to pick a partner and a movie from this list. Remember to write your names next to the movie title in the shared document on so that others know it’s taken. I’ll go and get some coffee in the meantime.”

As you looked around the lecture room, you found yourself making a wish for the floor to swallow you whole. 

No one in your limited friend group had picked this film studies class – most of them citing the 8 am time slot as the reason –, so who were you supposed to partner up with? A stranger who more than likely wouldn’t do any of the work or – even better and your personal favourite – would drop out of the course in the coming week and leave you without as much as a note. 

“Hey,” you then heard his voice and you didn’t know whether you felt nauseous from fear or excitement. You turned your head to find Jihoon standing right there, hand on the chair next to you, a tired look on his face – the same look he’d been wearing since Eunmi crushed his heart in her hands with a giggle. He took a deep hesitant breath. “Do you want to– You don’t have to but I don’t know anyone else in this class… So, maybe, you and I–”

Though a little breathless that he was even talking to you, you straightened in your seat and nodded. “Sure, we can partner up.”

A polite smile appeared on his lips before he pulled out a chair and sat next to you. He glanced at the film list projected onto the room’s screen. “So… Do you have a particular film you want to pick for this?”

You shook your head. “I was hoping you did.”

He grimaced and chuckled. “Well, at least we’re on the same page about that.”

As if we’re soulmates or something. You almost uttered those words. You were glad you caught them before they slipped out.

“Let’s–”

“Should we–”

“Oh.” He laughed. “You go first.”

“No, you.”

“No, you–” He sighed before suggesting, “First free film on the list?”

You nodded immediately. That had been your thought as well, after all. 

“So, what film is it?” he wondered, leaning over to read your laptop screen. Your rational brain wanted to shove him away; your emotional brain wanted to pull him even closer. It was hard to get anything done in that condition. 

You pulled yourself together, ignoring the sweet scent of his cologne and the almost-there tickle of his hair against yours, and scrolled through the shared document. “Let’s see… The Pianist, 2002.”

Jihoon’s brows rose in surprise. “I do love pianos.”

“I doubt it has a lot to do with pianos,” you mumbled, but didn’t need any further confirmation to put your names down next to the title. Both of your names. Next to each other. Your heart stuttered at the sight.

“It has to have at least a little bit to do with pianos,” he insisted with furrowed brows. You laughed, earning a disbelieving wide-eyed look from him. “No? You’re doubting it?”

“Maybe.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment before relaxing in his chair again. “So, when do you want to work on this project? I’m free to meet on Mondays.”

It was your turn to look at him with wide eyes, lips parting in surprise. “You… want to meet? In person?”

He blinked. “Yes? Like normal people? Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no, it’s just that–” You took a deep breath under his watchful eyes. “I figured that after what happened with Eunmi, you’d–”

“Dig myself a cave to die in? Stop socialising completely?” He sighed and looked away. “Look: as long as you don’t bring her around to our meetings, we’ll be fine. I just– I don’t even want to be in the same building as her.” His gaze was sharp when he looked at you again. “And I’m only tolerating you because of this class.”

Were words supposed to hurt like that?

“So, Monday, in the library?” he spoke again as if he hadn’t just thrown a metaphorical dagger into your heart. 

You nodded. “I’ll see you Monday.”

He didn’t speak another word to you in that entire class.

Seungcheol was quick to notice your mood being more dejected than usual at lunch. Affectionate by nature, his fingers reached across the picnic table to find yours and give them a little squeeze.

The gesture only made you want to cry more: why couldn’t he be your soulmate instead?

“Did something happen in class?” he asked, eyeing you cautiously. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing.” A complete lie and even he knew it.

He called out your name in a warning tone – like a father getting ready to reprimand his rebellious child. “What happened and what can we do to fix it?”

“I don’t think there’s any way to fix anything,” you mumbled and lifted your fork to your lips to take a bite of your lunch. There was no joy in the taste of your favourite meal on this day.

Seungcheol frowned. “Is this about Jihoon again? What happened this time?” 

“He wanted to pair up for a project,” you told him and his expression morphed into a bright smile – one that screamed “See! I told you he’d see the light!” – but his face promptly dropped into a scowl when you added on, “and then he told me that he only tolerated me because of our film studies class.”

“He said that?” he spoke lowly. 

“His exact words.” It wasn’t even like he actually intentionally broke your heart. It must have been the stupid soulmate bond acting up and making you more emotional about this than necessary. “I don’t know why I’m so sad about this.”

“He’s cruel. That’s why.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though. He’s cruel and he’s dumb and he doesn’t deserve you.” He nodded his head in confirmation when you looked up at him again. 

You scoffed out a laugh. “Why do you think he’s dumb anyway? He does well in our classes.”

“He may be academically gifted but he had his soulmate under his goddamn nose this whole time and he didn’t even realise,” he practically whined. “If that’s not dumb, I’m the king of Korea.”

You contemplated for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just give up this fantasy of mine and find someone who actually likes me.”

“You– I–” His frown deepened almost comically. “That is not what I meant at all.”

“You just said–”

“Stop listening to what I say!”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank god you’re not my soulmate.”

“Okay, I’m not that bad.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you stick around.”

Your gaze drifted to where Jihoon was seated under a maple tree with his friends. “Maybe I just have bad taste.”

[I’ll be waiting at 3 in the library. Room A232. – Jihoon]

Seungcheol mumbled something under his breath as he accompanied you to the library. Before you could ask him about it, he turned to you. “Can’t you just tell him you’re his soulmate? What’s the worst that could happen?”

You stared at him. He quickly realised the error of his words.

“I just mean that maybe he’d like to know. Maybe he’d act a little warmer towards you if he did.”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting him to treat me like,” you said. “He knows me as Eunmi’s friend. As someone complicit in the worst lie of his life. He’s treating me very nice all things considered.”

“Well, he still should know,” he decided. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever you say, big guy. I’ll see you in the journalism section in a few hours?”

He sighed. “As always. Wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

And just like that, he picked a direction and headed that way – to his lonely little napping spot between shelves of journalism guidebooks. It was a good thing he got along so well with the librarians.

Though you weren’t a stranger to this library, you still felt a little out of place this time. Maybe it was the nerves of meeting Jihoon again. You hadn’t seen him even once outside of the one film studies class you both took. 

Or perhaps you were just anxious about the fact that you had failed to watch the film due to reasons out of your control. Lee Jihoon was notorious for having a short fuse with his peers. You weren’t sure you could handle falling even further down his list.

The plaque on the door read A232. You double-checked it. Triple. Four times. Five–

Jihoon startled you by opening the door. “Are you going to come in or do you expect a formal invitation?”

“I… was just checking,” you mumbled and brushed past him into the little study room. You placed your things down opposite of the seat he had occupied. This was it – the end of your life. You hadn’t even said goodbye to Seungcheol. You sighed, closed your eyes in anticipation of the scolding that would follow, and confessed, “I didn’t watch the film. I’m sorry.”

You were ready for an onslaught of sharp words, the scolding of a lifetime, maybe even some screaming and him telling you that you were just as bad as Eunmi.

But it never came. 

He sat down and hummed. “Yeah, I didn’t have time to watch it either.”

Dumbfounded, you opened your eyes to stare at him. He felt your gaze on him and looked up from his screen with an awkward tight-lipped smile. “What?”

“I thought you’d yell at me,” you spoke faster than your filter could catch. 

He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I thought you were going to yell at me.”

“What now?” you thought out loud. You hadn’t prepared for this scenario, not even close.

Jihoon made faces – scrunching up his face and frowning between silly smiles and pursed lips – as he considered the options. “We could… watch it now?”

“Like, now?”

He nodded slowly. “I don’t have any plans for the next couple of hours. Do you?” You shook your head, too speechless to actually respond. “Then let’s watch it. I have a speaker somewhere in my bag– Hold on. I’ll get it.”

Your brain was severely lagging behind. You hadn’t even realised the implications of his words. Your jaw dropped. “You mean–? You want to watch it together? Here?”

“I mean,” he paused and looked at you, “I wouldn’t mind picking a different place. We could go to the courtyard. Or a café. Well, probably not a café but–”

“There’s a lounge room on the third floor,” you blurted out. “There are sofas and a vending machine.”

Jihoon brightened up at your words. “That sounds perfect. Let’s go?”

“Sure,” you breathed out, unable to believe this was happening at all. 

It took barely 5 minutes for the two of you to get to the lounge room. Jihoon was quick to occupy a three-person sofa in the corner of the room, right between the vending machine and the ceiling high window. With a victorious smile, he patted the spot next to him. 

You must have been too slow for his liking because tilted his head to the side, eyes still on you. “Did you want this spot instead? I’m okay with either. Just say the word.”

You said nothing and took the spot he had previously offered. The less you spoke, the less likely you were to piss him off – it was only logical. 

As you sat there and waited for him to set up his laptop and speaker, you glanced at your wrist. The fluffy cat on your skin was endlessly, tirelessly running towards him, looking back at you as if to convince you to reach for Jihoon. 

You looked to his wrist instead, wondering, perhaps hoping that you’d find a similar doodle trying to get to you. Even if it just glanced, just to confirm. But his soulmate mark was hidden, covered with a black wrist support.

He glanced back at you before lifting said wrist. “Are you looking at this?”

Cursing yourself for getting caught staring, you nodded and tried to act like your ears and cheeks weren’t burning. 

He shrugged. “My wrist hurts sometimes. Nothing to worry about.”

Deflecting. You knew him well enough to know that even if he was telling the truth, it was only half of one. He was lying to save his pride.

“My roommate has the same one,”  you said, deciding to go along with his narrative. “She says it doesn’t help a lot though.”

“It’s the cheapest one I could find,” he replied with a shrug before turning back to his laptop, searching for the film. “Do you live at the dorms?”

“Yep.” But he knew this already. He used to visit Eunmi there, right across the hall from you. You cleared your throat and willed the thought to go away. “That’s why I didn’t manage to watch the film. I was going to watch it over the weekend, but the dormitory wi-fi was the slowest it has ever been.”

He scoffed on your behalf. “That sounds awful. What did you do in the meantime then?”

“My roommate had to bring out the board games. So, Monopoly.”

He laughed and sat back on the sofa, leaning closer to you to hear more. “That almost sounds even worse. Any friendships ruined that night?”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” you laughed along, almost forgetting you were nervous to be around him in the first place, “we played Monopoly for two days straight. The same game. It just didn’t end. My roommate and her boyfriend are no longer on speaking terms.”

“Monopoly truly does ruin relationships.” He laughed harder, almost leaning against you entirely in the fit of giggles. “Did you win? Who won?”

“I came in third place.”

“Out of three?”

You nodded shamefully as he laughed even harder, this time fully resting his head on your shoulder. He quickly leaned away though, much to your disappointment, but his giggles never ceased. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

Despite the shared laughter at your study sessions and sitting together in class, Jihoon never acknowledged you outside of the lecture room. He barely even glanced your way when you passed him in the hallways; he definitely never returned any waves or even nods. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Seungcheol was left to gather the pieces of your confidence. Though he was vehement that there was no soulmate for him and he’d be happy being single his entire life, he refused to let you suffer the same fate. 

It was already getting painful to watch you mimic his habit: hiding the fluffy cat under a variety of bracelets and wristbands, covering it with long sleeves whenever the weather allowed. Your hope had turned into anxiety in front of his very eyes and he’d be damned if he let you continue down this path.

“If you don’t tell him, I will.” – he was going to stand by these words. Even when you practically begged him not to.

“He won’t like it,” you’d told him. 

“He’d be upset with the both of us,” you’d scolded him when he presented the idea again two weeks later.

“Why would he even believe you?” you’d scoffed.

He decided he’d make Jihoon believe him. So, after sending you off to class, he located your soulmate in the same lounge room you’d introduced to him. He was even resting on the same sofa.

Seungcheol stood in front of him and cleared his throat. 

Jihoon straightened up immediately at that, pulling his laptop screen down. “Can I help you with something?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“About…?” Jihoon scoffed when Seungcheol offered him no further context. “Listen, if this is about something (Y/n) said or did–”

“She never told you, did she?” he asked. “You still don’t know.”

His counterpart blinked. “Know what? What is this? Do you have no one else to play mind games with?”

“Jihoon,” he sighed, “she’s your soulmate.”

His words were met with a frown. “What nonsense are you speaking now? No, first you barge in here, and now you’re making up stories– Does she know you’re here?”

“She knows I made a promise. For her.” Seungcheol closed his eyes and spoke as calmly as he could, “She’s your soulmate. She’s the little spotted cat on your wrist. You’ve been breaking her heart this entire time and I’m sick of it.”

Jihoon’s frown deepened. His hand clenched into a fist in his lap as he spoke, “If she’s– Why didn’t she say anything?”“That you’ll have to ask her yourself. I just came here to balance the scales – it seemed unfair that she suffer with the knowledge but you break her heart with every word.” Seungcheol sighed and opened his eyes again, gaze hardening. “What you do with this knowledge is up to you. But if you break her heart any further, I will break you.”

You were blissfully unaware of your best friend’s actions. In fact, you hadn’t seen him since lunch. You had been preoccupied with making the slides of your film studies presentation more,–well–, presentable.

The courtyard was a perfect spot for drawing inspiration for slide designs: the fresh air did wonders to your brain and the constant distant chatter of your fellow students served as white noise. You were on a roll. 

Who knows, you thought to yourself, maybe Jihoon will even grace you with his proud smile when you show him the presentation.

Suddenly, a strange feeling filled you. You habitually glanced down at your wrist – the cat was standing on his hind legs, as if trying to peek over a fence to see what was in front of you. Like he was expecting his owner back from a long trip.

“So it really is you,” you then heard his voice. 

Your head snapped up to look at Jihoon standing right in front of you, his eyes trained on his own wrist – miraculously uncovered this time, the usual black band crumpled in his other hand. 

Your voice and words betrayed you, they left you fighting in the battle field all alone. You gulped. Instead of acknowledging his words, as if doing so would make the situation disappear, you turned your laptop his way. Your voice wavered as you told him, “I made some changes to the slides. Thought it would look better if we made them prettier. What do you think?”

But Jihoon kept staring at his wrist as if you weren’t even there. How could he not stare at the spotted cat he’d spent all these years mindlessly glancing at, following, and talking to in the moonlight? The cat who had once stood for a broken dream now stood for a new hope. 

Finally, he tore his eyes from the cat – the mark of you – and looked at you instead. There was something so incredibly sorrowful about the look in his eyes, you could barely fight the urge to cry. He didn’t bother to do the same. 

A tear slipped down his cheek as he shakily breathed out. “You could’ve told me, (Y/n). Why wouldn’t you– Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d want to know. Not after what she did to you.”

He scoffed. “You watched her lie and break my heart and it never occurred to you to just… tell me? To just say you were the one? That I was looking the wrong way?”

You wanted the ground to take you away. It would’ve hurt less than this confrontation. All of these eyes curiously watching from a distance, the whole campus witnessing him breaking your heart – it was too much. Even if he was right to be mad. 

“Jihoon…”

“What were you so afraid of?” he wondered, frown deepening and voice raising by the word. “That I would reject you in favour of her? That she would stop being your friend because you foiled her plans? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but she’s clearly not a good friend so why are you still siding with her?!”

“I’m not!”

“It sure seems that way!”

You glared at him. “I stopped talking to Eunmi the minute she told me what she had done!” 

Jihoon expression softened at your words. So did yours. You sniffled. “I had already let her go too far because she was the only friend I had when I first came here. She was the only friend I had known. I didn’t want to lose both my best friend and my soulmate. I thought–” You took a deep breath and avoided his eyes. “I thought if I couldn’t have my soulmate, I’d at least have a loyal friend who wouldn’t let me feel lonely. I was mistaken.”

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. His arm dropped, his eyes following as if to make sure the spotted cat remained. 

“You should’ve told me,” he whispered once again before stepping closer, crouching to your level. He sighed once more. Then you felt warm fingers around your wrist. “Had you told me–”

“Just reject me and be done with it,” you begged. “Don’t make this even worse. I deserve my heart shattered, but at least make it quick.”

He frowned. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Then finish quicker. I still have a presentation to–”

“Had you told me,” he started again, more assertively this time, his hand holding yours tightly as if to anchor you to him, “I would’ve rejected her and run to you back then already. I would’ve believed you without any hesitation. But seeing as that didn’t happen,” he sighed and you braced yourself for a proper heartbreak, “I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

Your heart stopped beating. At least it felt like it did. Your eyes widened while searching his. Instead of a scowl or a frown or a glare, you found yourself on the receiving end of a fond smile. 

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious?!”

“As serious as Seungcheol is about breaking me if I break your heart,” he promised with a soft laugh. His fingers still never left your hand, only sliding down to lock with yours.

You groaned and closed your eyes in despair. “...He’s the one that told you.”

“I’m glad he did,” he laughed, “because I don’t think you would’ve told me for a while, and I certainly wouldn’t have figured it out anytime soon.”

“We’re both dumb, aren’t we?” you mumbled, finally opening your eyes again once the embarrassment faded. 

“Complete idiots, the both of us.”

“Soulmates,” you joked.

“Soulmates,” he confirmed with a laugh.

You still wondered though. “Why aren’t you more mad at me?”

He shrugged and sat down next to you, shoulder to shoulder, on purpose this time. “I thought I was at first. But I don’t think you’re at fault for what Eunmi did to me. You were just trying your to be a good friend.” Seeing your sheepish smile, he nudged you playfully before whispering, “Plus, I’m not entirely sure I could take Seungcheol in a fight.”

You laughed. “I guess that’s one perk of being his friend.”

Jihoon smiled. “He seems like a great friend. I like him better than I liked Eunmi.”

“I do too.”

“What do you say we give this a proper try?” he suggested, holding out his hand for you to take, the doodle-like cat on his wrist full on display.

You smiled. When you lifted your hand to meet his, the fluffy cat rushed to meet his spotted one where your skin touched. Their noses pressed together happily, the cats nuzzling into each other’s necks after finally meeting each other after all this time of being so close but never close enough. 

“I’d like that,” you told him and he breathed out in relief. 

With the awkward distance out of the way, sitting beside him didn’t feel as nerve-wracking as it once had. It felt natural to be in his presence now. You wondered if you’d be drawn to him soon, just as your soulmate marks were drawn to each other.

“How did you find me here anyway?” you asked him after a moment of silence.

He shrugged. “I followed the cat. Figured that if Seungcheol was right, the mark would lead me right to you.” He gestured around. “It did.”

“Huh.” You pursed your lips in thought before giggling. “I guess I should’ve tried that when I was looking for you earlier.”

“Earlier? Today?” he wondered.

You remembered your laptop all of a sudden, pulling it closer to the two of you. “I made some changes to our presentation. I wanted to show you and then we could maybe work on it a little. Hold on.”

“Right now?” He seemed amused at the idea when you nodded. “Sure, we could do that. Or, – hear me out –, we could go on a little date to make up for lost time.”

But as tempting as that sounded… 

“The presentation is due tomorrow morning, Jihoon.”

He grimaced. “Brunch date tomorrow then?”

“... I could fit that into my schedule.”

Note: I only wrote this so I'd have an excuse to later write cute university boyfriend / soulmate Jihoon fics as sequels lol

@pyralyte

♥ “I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.”

His smile is radiant, his eyes like stars in the darkest night sky; the way he moves radiates confidence and charm, the way he speaks is captivating, compelling, suave.

The anniversary event is crowded, lively, suffocating. You don’t know why you came - or why you keep letting Minhyuk talk you into things when you know Kiyhun’s going to be there. It always sours your mood, ruins your night and others’.

“What has he ever done to you?” Minhyuk has asked a million times, and you have shrugged a million more; there was no explaining your reasons to others. 

“I just don’t like him,” you would say. “It happens.”

You stretch your legs away from your body, the wooden chair you’ve been sitting on for the past hour or so leaving your body tense and aching. There’s a half eaten cupcake from the buffet on a plate in front of you - your excuse to stay seated at the table, to stay away from Kihyun.

But, like so many times before, he finds you. 

He is walking toward you through the sea of people, his smile a little wider, the skin around his eyes creased a little deeper. People he passes glance at him, nod at him, give him all the attention he commands just by being in the general vicinity.

He has that thing, the je ne sais quoi. 

You hate the way Yoo Kihyun owns the room.

You hate the way Yoo Kihyun owns your heart.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” he asks when he stands before you. You weakly gesture toward the remains of the cupcake.

“Eating.”

“Come dance with me.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Kihyun reaches out and gently cups your elbow, trying to coax you into getting up.

“Kihyun, let go of me,” you snarl lowly, a warning look in your eyes. But he just smiles his disarming smile and leans in a little closer; a little too close.

“Come on,” he teases. “Or do you want me to make a scene?”

“Asshole,” you hiss and let him lead you to the dancefloor.  You are painfully aware of the looks, the whispers, and you keep your head low as you walk across the room. When he stops and turns toward you, you instinctively take a step back. You try to keep your distance, but Kihyun’s fingers swiftly curl around your hips. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, his voice like silk brushing against your fragile heart. 

“Nothing,” you spit but he just chuckles and digs dominating fingertips into your skin.

“Come closer.” His command against your fragile resolve. “Come closer so I can hold you.”

Before you can react, his hand is on the small of your back, melting your body against his, while his other hand closes around yours in the air. You look into his face, too stunned to say anything. For just a second, the smile is gone and his eyes are the color of the darkest night sky as he watches you, studies you, takes you in. You swear he presses you even closer to him as he starts moving, starts leading you across the floor. You have no idea where you’re going; you’re lost in his eyes, lost to his touch. 

You have tried to avoid this for so long, tried to avoid him, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to take it. He feels too good, looks too good, smells too good, and it’s killing you.

You blink a few times when he whispers your name and realize you have stopped dancing; realize you are not even in the banquet hall anymore. Somehow he had maneuvered you out of the room and into a dark corner of the adjacent hotel bar that had closed for the night. 

“What?” you ask dumbly, your back pressed against a wall and Kihyun’s eyes on yours. He takes both your hands and places them on his shoulders before gently squeezing your waist.

“Why do you always act like you hate me?” he whispers into the darkness. You stare at him in disbelief for a second before collecting your senses.

“First, it’s not an act,” you reply, the sharp edges of the lie cutting the air between you. “Secondly, I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.”

Kihyun leans in again, a cunning smile on his lips. “No, you don’t.”

Instead of pushing him away, your nails dig deeper into his shoulders. “Stop it, Kihyun, or I’ll punch you.”

“No, you won’t.” He moves even closer, the tip of his nose almost touching yours as his arms wrap around your back and hold you so tightly against him it feels like you will never escape his embrace - not that you would want to.

“Is it because you think you can’t have me?” he asks, half mocking, half earnest. You scoff.

“Bullshit.”

“Are you sure?” He is so close now you can feel the heat of his skin and the beating of his heart as he whispers against your lips. “Because, baby, I’m yours if you want me.”

you took a polaroid of us

summary: the avengers can’t seem to understand why you’re so obsessed with taking polaroids until they come across your scrapbook.

a/n: me? kind of sticking to the mcu timeline? what??? anyways, instead of tony being the one to do the snap, it’s his kid (😔) and this story is so sad but it’s kinda sentimental? anyways tell me what you think!

warnings: angst, some fluff (if you squint), and probably some typos.

add yourself to my taglist! 

No one could understand your obsession with your pristine white polaroid camera.

You had at least ten unopened boxes of polaroid films and the Avengers had always said you didn’t need that many boxes if you weren’t going to use them.

They were backups, you said.

When the team went on press junkets, vacations, staycations, or minimal damage missions where Tony allowed you to come, you brought your trusty polaroid camera. Everyone would roll their eyes whenever you would jump out of the quinjet after forgetting to bring the camera and an extra box in case you ran out of film but you made everyone wait anyway.

You didn’t mind that everyone seemed to be annoyed whenever you took candid shots of them. Sometimes, they’d give you a feigned annoyed expression but chuckle at your curious nature and you wanted to document everything.

Keep reading

Heads Under Water Extras I

Summary: After everything that had happened in Wakanda, and the man who stole your heart, you had decided not to return to New York in fear for your life as well as that of your unborn children. Instead living your life away by the beach with your twins and one stormy night you were visited by the man who had vowed to look for you and take you back home. One way or another. Character: K'uk'ulkan/Namor x Atlantean Descendant! Filipino! Female Reader. OC Children (Alon and Amor) Word Count: 6,622 (i needed a good angst and happy ending in my life.) Chapter Warnings: Angst. Mention of Kidnapping. Mention of Abandonment. Happy Ending (cuz Aquapapi desurvs the world). New beginnings. Second Chances.

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Join the Library (no longer do taglist you can just turn on notif here)

Water Under the Bridge

“Mama!” The sobs that escaped your son and daughter broke your heart as you held them close to you, their arms holding onto you for dear life.

In the years you had stayed back in your hometown, the various storms had come and go, but since your twins were born it was the first time they get to experience hand the violence of what a thunderstorm could be. The first that even had you worried about your wellbeing as you were staying in the little home you shared for the next twenty four hours.

The rising tides weren’t something you worried about as much, but the winds could become strong than the news would lead on at times. It was one of the many reasons why you still depended on Tony’s technology instead of the news’ weather forecast. You had several of your cousins sending you text to check on you three but you tried your best to assure each and every single one of them that you would be fine for the next few hours while the storm passes.

Everything you’ve endured in Wakanda was by far worse compared to this moment, this moment of chaos before peace and serenity. The life you had escaped from back in Wakanda—from Talokan.

“Did you know that light travels faster than sound?” You found yourself telling your twins, hoping it was good enough of a distraction from the thunder from outside.

“No it doesn’t!” It was your son, Alon that made the protest, eyes still watering from the unshed tears. He was at the stage in his childhood that he wants to always be right about something. But looking at him, you were greeted with glimpses of the man you loved—but had to escape from.

Alon was a spitting image of his father. Same brown eyes, sun-kissed tan skin, and the pointy ears. It scared you at times to look at him how more and more he was becoming the younger version of his father before your very eyes.

“Yes it does!” It was your daughter, Amor that contradicted her twin.

Your son might have your lover’s features, but Amor has her father’s personality through and through. From the way she talks to her Uncles and Aunts, to how she ensures that playtime with the younger member of the family would be fair for each and every single one involved. At a young age, it genuinely scared you the level of maturity she had without you even realizing.

“Then watch the skies, My Loves.”

As if on cue, the flash of light momentarily illuminated through the windows as the twins snuggled closer to you in the couch. You gently counted down to three before the thundering sound followed after. A smile on your face at the giggle and amazement from your twins, more so your daughter that was proven right.

“Will the thunder get to us?” You son asked, head looking up at you in wonder, ignoring his earlier statement as his curiosity was more of a priority.

“No it won’t.” You tried your best to reassure them both. “If the sound and the light go off at the same time, then yes, it might. But right now, there is a space between them both. So we’re safe here.” You kissed him on the forehead.

Proving your point even further, the flash of light appeared and with bated breath all three of you counted a few seconds before the sound echoed the weeping skies. The mix of cheers and wows from your children made the smile on your face bigger. It reminded you so much of your short stint in Wakanda, helping with teaching the young children about the beauty of science. Nothing truly beats being able to teach the young aspiring minds and helping them further with whatever path they may pave for themselves.

Peering towards the clock above the door it was past their bedtime. Without much of a hitch, you had lifted them both into your arms—a feat that you never truly realize was a problem until you realize the true source of your strength.

“I think it’s time for bed.” You announced, carrying them to their bedroom, ignoring the howls of the winds that continued to echo the living room and the protest that came from your children that continue to insist that they weren’t sleepy.

The unison of protest was left in deaf ear as you had continued to carry the twins up into your arms and bringing them both to their shared bedroom, away from the noise of the storm and away from the fear and curiosity that might peak their interest.  Placing them in their beds one at a time, you kissed their foreheads, singing a lullaby to drown out their continuous protest of still not sleepy yet even when it was already past their bedtime.

“Can you tell us more about Papa?” It was Amor that now grow curious.

Even after all that you had endured in Wakanda, with your former lover, and of the truth of your heritage, you had been open to them about their father, at least the existence of him. You had told them stories of his people, of the hardship that his people and he has been placed in. You had taught them in the best of your abilities the foundation of what the Talokan people had fought for, hoping they would also have the same principle when they grow up.

"His enemies called him Namor, for he was called El niño sin amor by them."

“What does that mean?”

“The boy without love.” You answered, memories of him telling you about the origin of the name, of the last impact it had on him and of the fight he continued to have for the sake of his people.

“But you love him right, Mama?”

Such question still had this impact on you and your sanity. You did love him, more than you would have ever believed yourself to be capable of giving. You loved him and when you realized the effect of your heritage had on him and his people, you chose to leave before he does anything that either of you would regret.

“I do.” You confirmed. “His people did, everyone that finally had come to understood all that hardship he had to endure to be where he was. His sacrifice means more to his people than he thinks it does.” You continued.

It took you awhile of pushing and pulling away from him to realize where he was coming from. The life and the reign he had on his people, the war he was willing to wage for the sake of his people. It made him no less of a man for you, it made you love him more and more each day because of it. It breaks your heart even as years has passed since you've last stepped foot in Wakanda or in New York for the matter, to not be with him, to not be by his side, and for him not to see the children you have both created together grow to be the very child you both so wished to be growing up.

“Will we ever see him, Mama?” It was now Alon that inquired, the octopus covered blanket covering him up to his neck now.

"I don't know." You spoke honestly, you did not have the power to know if he would be welcoming of you and of your children should he find out about them. The best thing that you could do now is to protect them from him and the underlying but still understandable hatred for the surface dwellers. You, as much as the truth came about, were still part of said surface dwellers. "But what is important to me right now is you and your sister are both safe and sound. You both are loved by your many family that are here. They might not be like your Papa, but we are trying our best to give you both the life you deserve."

"Okay, Mama." They both said in unison, eyes slowly growing heavy and it was all the sign you needed to let them sleep.

“Get some sleep, if the storm ends in the morning we can walk around the beach.” You promised to which they cheered more tired at this point. “I love you, My Babies.” You whispered, kissing them both in their foreheads, opening the nightlight, and closing the door behind you.

In the stillness of the little home you had created for yourself, you had allowed yourself a moment to sob. The raging storm that continued had masked the pain you had bubbled up every single time your children ask about their father. The tears of what could have been between you and the man, of the life he had promised you and of the life you were more than willing to give him. It was all ruined because of one simple truth about your life and about your heritage that you knew nothing about.

In the howls of the winds, something else had caught your ears. A hum, soothing the momentary pain in your chest the more to listened. The sobs halted as you held comfort in the rare calmness in your mind and in your soul. As if having an out of body experience, you watched your feet move in their own accords. The memories of your visit in Talokan with the man who had vowed to make you his Queen filled your head, lingering in the furthest parts of your memory—a memory you had tried so hard to suppress.

As your hand slowly turned the knob of the front door, you felt the sudden race of your heartbeat as you were welcomed with a gust of the thunderous winds. The rains splattering your skin as you could barely see anything in the beach, the rain making it close to impossible. But in the heaviness of the rain, it was the thunder that had showcased the danger behind the rain. The light had momentarily showed three individuals standing under the pouring rain.

All the color had drained from your face at the recognition of who they were. The siren no longer controlling you but the sight had led you to remain where you stood.

“Namor.” You spoke, firmly as you could in the moment of terror. How did he find you? How did he realize that you were hear when you did your best to hide from him.

You had always believed nothing could be darker than the clear night skies, but you were left to be wrong as you looked into his eyes. How the darkness of his eyes the moment you had refused to call him by his name and of the other names you had once fondly called him during your time together. Ku'uk'ulkan. In Ajawo. In Amado.

"It's time to come home, In Reina."

You felt your heart drop at his intentions then and there. You shook your head, refusing to believe that it would come to this. No, not like this. Not when you children were too young. You took a measured step back, hoping to plan something on the fly, hoping to give yourself enough space away from the man. But you plan was foiled as Namora swiftly had her spear pointed at your neck, challenging you with her eyes to take another step. Standing still, you felt your hands shaking and knowing there was no other way around this. He has found you and he will not leave without you—and your children.

"Talokan ma' K'abéet jump'éel reina fugitiva."

You winced at the venom of Namora's words, the pain that you had caused her was far too evident. In your time in Wakanda and Talokan, you had become closer to her, a friendship that you wouldn’t believe would bloom between you and her. But you had left and never turned back. She was hurt beyond repair by your decision not to comeback, more so without any explanation to her or to her cousin about the matter. You deserved it, but it was merely life and death for you that you chose to be selfish in the moment and it had saved your life.

"Namora." Your lover's words held finality and Namora had no other choice but to pull her spear away from you. The frown still marring her features.

K'uk'ulkan whose eyes were still on you held you in an emptiness you were uncertain if he always has or if you were the root cause of it. Years had passed, you had seen the changes of the world around you but looking at him, looking at the lack of change in his features woke you of the reality of who you had fallen so madly in love with.

"I'm not going with you. There is a reason why I left Wakanda, why I didn't return to New York just like what I have once told you." You spoke, you tried you best to not look into his eyes, but you failed immeasurably so.  "I have a life here, far from the threats and tribulation you continue to make toward me and the people that I love and you continue to call as savages."

"What life?" He inquired, insulting humor lacing his tone. "A life where your family stop by each and every single day trying their best to check up on you. A life where all you do is stare into the waters that you once had feared like the plague? The waters I had once helped you to overcome?"

“A life without you!”

Your words held finality and the thunders grew louder from the background. You could not risk your life, nor the life of your children. You had seen the bloodshed that came with his people and the wars they were more than willing to start for the sake of their Kingdom. You had known of what he had once done to Wakanda for the sake of his war with the surface dwellers, it wasn’t beneath him to choose his people over you and over your children if it were to come to it.

"Four years, Mi Reina. I had given you four years to come back to me. But I am done waiting and you will come back to me one way or another."

The finality of his words made you want to run away, question him for what he planned on doing to you but it was Attuma that was quick to stop you as he lifted you up into his shoulders. You couldn’t hold it as you screamed and thrashed against the man’s shoulders, trying anything and everything to get away from his hold. The blood curdling screams even in the chaos of the thunderstorm was loud enough to wake your children. The sound of the bedroom door opening had you halting and watched the sheer horror of the scene that fell upon them. You in the shoulders of a being that wasn’t truly human.

"Mama?" It was Alon that looked the most fearful between the two as your daughter Amor screamed at Attuma to let you go, going as far as charging at him and hitting him the best as she could.

"Stay in your room!" You screamed but as you turned towards K'uk'ulkan, you could see the thunder in his eyes as realization of your reason for running has now becoming clearer than ever before.

“They have my eyes.” He spoke so quietly staring between your crying son and your fighting daughter that Attuma tried his best to avoid hurting. “You took my children away from me, Y/N!” He roared, it practically shook the ground and had even Amor in tears because of it.

"Please don't take them, In Amado. Spare them, they're just kids." You sobbed now. Your resolve to remain fearless crumbling at the danger that it might have towards your children.

"Take the children." K'uk'ulkan had ordered Attuma and Namora.

You were let go, throwing into the much harsher hands of your lover as you watched your children try their best to escape both Namora and Attuma. Pulling something out of their pouches, you had watched a far too familiar plant in their possession.

"They can breathe underwater!" You screamed, halting both Talokans from doing what they intended on doing to your children. "They got it from me." You whispered at the shame of your heritage was always and will forever be ingrained in your children just as much as it did to you.

"You have taken four years away from me, taken away my children from me, and you have lied to me over and over again and made me out to be a fool." He held onto your jaws, moving you until you were looking at him. The proximity even in the situation still brought a shiver down your spine. The pain of his grip brought tears to fall further from your eyes. "Tell me why I should not kill you for what you did to me?"

“My children will not live without their mother.” You struck a far too familiar nerve in him, but it was for your children’s sake.

“And now…they will not live without their father.”

It was in the middle of the night, as the storm grows louder that all five of you descended back down to the waters. How even in your tears, you had reassured your children as they tried their best to get away from Namora and Attuma’s grasp that everything was alright.

But never once did it escape your lips that this man, the very man that now held onto your arm tightly was the same man you told stories about. The father that they had always hoped to have in their life.

~

“Where are we, Mama?”

In the silence of what was now their chambers in Talokan, it was was Alon and his curiosity that broke the silence since your arrival. You could only look helplessly at the trauma your choice has done to your children. Both shaken still for being taken in the middle of the night to an unknown world that was far from what they have always known their whole life. Thrown into a room with guards posted to keep watch over you in the off chance you would escape—something you couldn’t do without compromising your children’s safety in the process.

This was not the life you would have hoped for your children, not the way you would have hoped they would meet their father. Never in a millions year would you have hoped it would be under this circumstance.

“Talokan, your father’s home.” You spoke honestly. In a perfect world, you would have love for them to see the beauty of the nation had, untouched by the people of the surface world.

“And your new home.” You winced as the familiar prickle that covered the back of your neck because of his voice. No matter the circumstance, he always had this power over you, the shiver that always runs down your spine from just his voice.

You felt his presence long before you felt his touch. The way his hand had slowly moved from your hand towards the column of your neck before finally settling onto your cheeks. It was as if still enchanted, you found yourself turning to look at him face to face, the gentle warmth that was far from the man that had dragged you and your twins away in the middle of the night.

“Don’t touch Mama!” Amor screamed, rushing in between the both of you, pushing the man as far away from you as possible. You had to pull your daughter into your arms as the guards had immediately pointed their weapons towards your daughter.

“Stand down.” K'uk'ulkan ordered the guards as your hold on your daughter slowly loosen at the reassurance as they finally did as they were told. “No one will raise their weapon at my children and the Queen.” He ordered to which the guards had accepted without an ounce of hesitation.

The guards were eventually ordered to give you the privacy that you genuinely craved in the moment but could never have. Taking a large step away from the man, you found yourself sitting on the bed, pulling even your son into your arms in fear of what else could have to the three of you if you do not play along with whatever the man wants. No matter how much you try to convince yourself that you should be brave for the sake of your children, fear was lingering through your very bone, of what the man could be capable of doing to your children just to get to you.

He walked towards you, slowly and measured in his steps. You had felt your children hold onto your even tighter still. It was like a predator stalking their prey with the man, his eyes boring holes through you but as they fell towards the kids, there was sadness. From the darkness that loomed it had transformed into a soft tender look that you had only witnessed from him in the rare interactions he would have with the children in Talokan and even in Wakanda that have grown to love him (though he refuse to admit as such).

“Do you know who I am?” He inquired, voice soft and gentle now, the softness that felt far too intimate for anyone else but you.

You had watched the twins shake their heads, their hold on you still firm as they refused to trust a man that brought them to an unfamiliar location. A location they were now to treat like their own home from now on.

“I go by many names, but my people know me as K'uk'ulkan.” He began smiling almost amused as you both watched your children test the name out in their own tongues. “But I am Yuum to you both from now on.” He continued.

"What does that mean?" Alon had asked, curiosity peaking at something he does not know.

"Father." He translated.

“You are not our father!” Amor spat, pulling away from your hold to stand in front of the man. The softness slowly disappearing from his features as despair was there to replace it—of the action of your own doing it seems. “Papa would have never hurt Mama like you did! Mama said Papa is a kind man! He is loved by everyone for his kindness, you are not kind!”

You had refused to meet his gaze now. You had ingrained his kindness and love into their minds only for him to ruin in a single moment and for once you are not to blame for his actions. It could have been any other way, but he chose to use violence and show the cruelty he was capable of unleashing if it doesn’t go his way.

“Amor, please. He is your Papa. There is just a misunderstanding.” You hoped that placating your daughter for now would be enough, it was in moments like this that you remember how much she was just like his father, every mannerism he would have—down to his temper especially in moments like this.

“Amor?” K'uk'ulkan’s voice held amusement at the momentary respite of you finally calling your daughter by her name.

“It was only fitting to name her for what we both had once.” You explained, eyes looking towards your daughter as her dangerously daggered glare was still fixated on her own father. The love you had hoped he would come to believe he was capable of having for himself and for the people around him to have for him when all was said and done, but it was no longer here or there for you to tell him as such.

“And nothing had changed, no matter what had transpired. I was more than willing to take you back whatever the circumstance.” He spoke, hand holding onto Amor’s own, but she was quick to snatch her hand away and make her way back towards you. “I had waited for you, hoped that you would come back like you had always promised you would.”

“And you best course of action when I didn’t come back was to force me here, to force my children here? All because I broke my promise?”

“Our children!” He spat voice raising. “The heirs to my throne, the hope of Talokan for a better future.”

"But your plan against my people, both from the land and of Atlantis is not a better future." You spat. "You plan to kill the family I have back home, my cousins, my uncle and aunts that had been there for me when I had no one else to help me. You would kill the sister and brother that I never thought I would have in Atlantis just because."

“For Talokan, I would do that and more.” The echo of his voice was the final straw as the sob escape from Alon’s lips. No matter what it was, he would always have this gentle heart and any argument, may it be between children or between adults, he fears arguments and raised voice like a plague— K'uk'ulkan did not make it any better at this point.

It was the weighted silence with only your son’s sobs that got you to finally look him straight in the eye, the regret that came in his eyes as he watched his son sob against your chest. This was not how it should have been—he knows it but it was far too late to take back his words.

"Now you have your answer for why I left." You spoke.

"And you and my children will stay here until you think otherwise."

~

It had been weeks now since your return to Talokan and the arrival of your twins to their new home. Slowly but surely you had watched your children integrate into the life of the people of Talokan. It had been hard language wise, but the teachers that knew English had been helpful in making sure they could communicate better with the people they interact with.

The twins have also slowly but surely soften in their hesitation of being in a place far from what they once known. They had garnered a lot of new friends in the nation, and the most daunting change had been towards their former captors, Namora and Attuma who they now affectionately call as Tita and Tito respectively, you could genuinely say the same could be said about the right hands of your lover, the softness and genuine fondness they now share for the twins and the overprotectiveness only an Uncle and Aunt would show. It was a relief to know there were someone like the two of them to be there for the twins when you could not.

The same could not be said towards their father, K'uk'ulkan. Any chance that the man had free time on his hand he would visit the twins, but they tried their best to avoid him, hiding behind you, or Attuma and Namora if the opportunity was given. But in the rare chance that they had no one to hide behind, they had been respectful out of your own request to them, but nothing more. No affections of any kind, and you know it breaks K'uk'ulkan every single time.

It took time for him to trust you on your own again, but in the weeks of your stay in Talokan he had finally granted your request to return to the surface. You had wanted to assure your family about you and your children’s whereabouts and to hopefully say goodbye as you come to accept your place in Talokan from now on. You’ve tried your best to keep them in the dark about your exact location—in fear of the nation being discovered and ruined by the surface dwellers but reassured them time and time again that you and your children were in good hand now with K'uk'ulkan. It took a lot of reform out of you to listen to them scold you for disappearing for weeks without any word but you understood that it was their worry for you above anything else. The fear of you following in your mother’s steps scared them more than anything.

By the waters you had known K'uk'ulkan was present, watching and listening. You had reassured every single member of your family that remained that you and your children were well taken care off by the man. Reassured them that this time everything will be alright. Your love for both the man and your children would be enough to make you stay with him just as much as his for all of you would make you want to stay now. It was enough to reassure them even as much as it didn't for you.

You had returned, keeping your promise. But the fear of what K'uk'ulkan would do to your children still in the back of your head as you descended back to the water in the middle of the night when no one was watching.

Since your return back to Talokan, you had been moved to the far too familiar bedroom, sharing it with the King and the implication it might have for everyone to see and often jest about. Sharing the same bed, the very same one long before you had left. Everything remained the same. The same murals etched the walls, the only difference was the images of you and of your children joining him in the stories painted in the walls. The love that K'uk'ulkan would rarely profess was out in the open for you to see.

It gave you the push to slowly try. Talking to him, even if it was with concerns to Talokan and if there were infrastructures that needed help in building, you tried your best to be useful and now more open to the man. You tried with your children as well, talking to them about the first time they had seen their father all those weeks ago was not how he truly was, you had tried your best to make them understand the situation and thankfully it was slowly working.

Slowly watching them no longer hiding behind Namora or Attuma at the instance of his arrival to them finally calling him Papa for the man to see and try his best to hide the emotions building up for the change.

“Yuum” You repeated to your twins as they had asked you to translate Papa for them. A smile on your face as you three had spent the day by the endless halls of his kingdom, exploring as much as you were trying to remember the memories you had with the man during your initial stay in the past.

"Yum!" The twins said in unison almost earning a giggle out of you. It takes them time to speak your lover's language but they were trying. Already knowing how to make basic conversations with the kids of Talokan.

"Yuum." You repeated again.

"Yuum!" The repeated again with giggle in their voices.

"Very good." You praised them both, kissing them on the top of their heads and halting in your steps as the man himself comes as if being called by your children's glee.

"In reina." He acknowledged eyes falling towards your children. "In orgullo yéetel ki'imak óolil."

His words made your heart flutter, the way he looks at your children it was as if you were looking at yourself. In the weeks even as he kept his distance, he always looked at them, with a love only a father could truly give to their children. But even with the distance and time, he treated them as such still. It was the same look you have seen in your stepfather even after knowing you were not his blood, he loved you still. Like a ten ton truck, you were struck with the reality of your guilt, of taking this opportunity away from him, pulling him away from the chance to this life, of the life of your twins in his own.

"Yuum..." You smiled kissing your kids on top of their heads again as they tested the words again in front of the man himself and the smile on his lips only made it all the more bittersweet.

It was the first time for them to call him as such.

"Tita Namora must be sparring around this time, do you want me to bring you to her while I talk to Papa?" You inquired to which had the twins agreeing, they had somehow grown a fond interest in watching Namora practicing and it was something she herself loved to show off (though she would never admit as much in front of you).

“I’ll take them.” K’uk’ulkan had volunteered to which brought hesitation on your children’s faces.

“Let Yuum take you to your tita, and I’m sure he will let you two watch the sharks swim by on your way.” You smiled winking towards K’uk’ulkan hoping he knows what to do. It was the first of many steps needed to be taken for everyone’s sake.

At the excitement in their voices, you had watched your twins now practically hold onto your lover already talking about the kinds of shark they hope to see on their way.

“We will talk in our chambers, In Reina.” He instructed to which you could only nod and watch a now overwhelmed K’uk’ulkan guide the twins to their destination.

"Be good to Papa and Tita for me, okay?" You called out to which had the twins nod before swimming alongside their father to where Namora was.

In the moment away from your children and away from the man, you had an opportunity to think. To think of the fours years that you had been away from K'uk'ulkan, of all the pain and suffering you had placed upon yourself because of the fear of your heritage, of the self-imposed hell you not only have placed upon yourself but towards your children that seemed so meaningless now as you've witness the longing the man had for your children, the love and veneration that the people had for them even after knowing of your bloodline. It all seemed so meaningless and uncalled for the more time you've spent back in Talokan with everyone.

It didn't take you long to return to your chambers you share with the man. In the weeks since you've returned, never once did he touch you. Not for the lack of trying in his part, but out of respect for you and that was what you had appreciated so much out of him. But days go by that you craved him, his warmth and the comfort that only his touch could give you. But he had made it clear from the start that it was only in your word, of your willingness to fully come back to him were you allowed to have his touch.

As time goes by, you were slowly destroying your own resolve.

"In Reina." The way he had called you his Queen long ago before you even knew of your heritage, of your love for the man, his certainty for your title, of what you were to him—it was so overwhelming when it comes to him.

You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring how even in your absence, you were still given such a privilege of the title. You savored how the waters moved and the man now stood in front of you as you opened your eyes and his hand resting on your shoulders, thumbs drawing small circles against your exposed collar bone.

“In Ajawo.” You acknowledged him finally having the strength to face him.

His eyes, smoldering browns stared right back at you and all you wanted to do was melt into a puddle before him. His effect on you still held strong just as much as the fear of what his power had over you.

"You wanted to talk, now you have me."

"Am I not interrupting you of any of your duties?"

"For you, nothing is too important that I couldn't postpone."

You had blushed at his confession, the humor of your memories of him being practically dragged by either Attuma or Namora away from you because of his duties all those years ago. It was never any different now in this very moment. The hidden power you still had over him.

"I wanted to know what will happen to my children now."

"Our children shall be taught of the way of Talokan, and when they get older they will perform the same duties as you and I in the council."

"Even if they are just like me? Bearing the blood of the lost people of Atlantis?" You questioned now, knowing of the last conversation you had with him in the past and what he had once planned on doing to them when the time comes.

"I had spoken with anger more than anything else." He admits, eyes refusing to meet your own for once. "I was angry at what your father had done to your mother, of the curse that it had fallen upon you because of it. But I've learned now, of talking with the people of your blood that they are not like your father but are much of a peaceful people like our own. I know it was because of my own words and of my own action that pushed you away. But I want to make up for it, for your sake as well as that of my children."

You shook your head at his words, it took some time but you understood where he had been coming from. His people came first before anything else. He was pushed into a corner that he was uncertain what the right choice could be.  He made a decision, it meant there would be consequences for it, just as much as you did with your own. It was now a matter of what either of you could do to make things right after all was said and done in the moment.

"And I had spoken with fear above all the emotions that I have felt at the time. My love for you wasn't as strong back then to make me stay."

"Is it now?"

"Yes." You spoke, the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders at your confession. "You helped me in facing my fears, you made me feel beautiful than what I truly am. But the most you have ever done for me that made me love you for all that had happened between us was our children, you gave me two angels that I would die to ensure that their lives are protected from any sorts of harm, you gave me a family I had never thought I would ever have in my life. You gave me all the love that I one day hope I could give back, even just a fraction."

"In Reina, all I want is for you to stay, for you and my children to finally stay that is what I could ever hope for. What I need from now on. I can forget about any disputes from other nations if it means making you three stay."

"Then we will stay." You spoke with finality before moving closer to the man and pulling him in for a kiss. "For as long as you would have me and my children, we will stay."

"Then you will all stay by my side, forever."

===

translation:

In Ajawo = My King

In Amado = My Beloved

In Reina = My Queen

Talokan ma' K'abéet jump'éel reina fugitiva. = Talokan Does not need a runaway Queen.

Yuum = Father

Tito = Uncle

Tita = Aunt

In orgullo yéetel ki'imak óolil = My Pride and Joy

And They Were Soulmates - Ben Hardy! Roger Taylor

Summary: Whenever your soulmate sings a song, the lyrics would appear on a random place on your body, and disappear soon after the song ends. For you, your soulmate sings a lot, like A LOT, and it’s always Queen songs. So, you set off for a Queen concert, hoping to run into your soulmate. And when you finally find your soulmate, there’s only one thing you could do.

Word Count: 3064

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: So I know Roger doesn’t the whole time during concerts cause you know he’s up there drumming but we’re going to pretend he sings along the whole time while he’s drumming (although not in the microphone) for the purpose of the fic. I am devoted okay I looked up the set list for A Night At the Opera Tour so I could be accurate. Please tell me if you liked this because I’m genuinely not sure about it, so please please please give feedback. Also, it’ll be a bit boring in the beginning just bear with me :)

You smoothed out your white floral dress as you looked the mirror, and zipped up your knee-high tan suede boots. Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, with tiny curls sticking out. You were wearing minimal makeup; you had to look perfect tonight. You took one last look in the mirror, playing with the silver butterfly necklace that hung around your neck. “How do I look?” You turned around with a grin on your face.

Your best friend, Kathleen, frowned as she sat on the bed. “Don’t get me wrong, you look amazing but… We’re going to a rock concert Y/N.” She said.

“I know I know, but what if I see him there? It’ll be his first time seeing me and I’ve got to look amazing.” You sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t go, maybe I’m just getting hopeful… I just feel stupid” You said, sitting down sadly on your bed, right next to her. You had gotten ready together at your apartment before leaving. Kathleen turned to you, and grabbed your hands.

“Y/N, you’ve been so excited to go, and you’re not stupid for wanting to find your soulmate. I’ve been talking you into going to this concert for weeks, trust me, you’re going.” Kathleen said, determined. “Now,” she held out her hand to you as she stood up. “We have quite the drive to the venue, so let’s go.”

With an eye roll, you took her hand and she pulled you up. You followed her out to the car, the cold Chicago air nipped at your exposed legs. When Kathleen saw your slight shiver, she laughed, “Told you not to wear that… Although… You do look cute, your soulmate is going to go crazy.” She smiled.

Keep reading

Saudade

↳ pairing: lee suho x reader

↳ synopsis: this is the third installment following philophobia and metanoia. after years of being away from your soulmate, you finally begin to believe that you have a chance at a normal life. but you learn that fate is never that simple or kind.

↳ warnings: language, alcohol consumption (nothing too crazy), ANGST you guys know what it is, a pinch of fluff

— note: sorry this took so long! i hope you guys enjoy the final part!

Fate was something you would never be able to truly understand. It was something so complex, yet at the same time so astoundingly simple.

When you were younger, you always believed fate to be a benign concept that could only lead to happiness. The day you lost sight of your string, you belatedly realized that all your preconceived notions were nothing more than delusions born from the idealized world the people around you had constructed.

Perhaps the cognizance would’ve been easier to deal with had you not been forced to move to a city that was constantly embraced by a daunting aura, one that didn’t allow you to properly heal from your internal wounds. Looking back on it, the trepidation might’ve had something to do with the fact that Seoul was the city where you would be forced to confront your destiny—the same fate that had disappointed you time and time again.

And therein lied the reason why being back felt like a surreal dream.

Every memory that came with walking down the busy streets overwhelmed you. After all this time, you still found yourself powerless to the retention of the time in your life where you felt the most miserable. Years had passed since then, but being back at the start of it all had you faltering in a way you thought would be impossible after your treatment.

There was a sudden heaviness in your chest and feet as you neared your destination. You allowed yourself to stare at the large building with muted dejection. This was the last place you were willing to revisit, but you were aware that never returning wasn’t a viable option. Not after you agreed to work through your condition without any restraint.

You instinctually forced yourself to shove all of your unwanted emotions into the dark place of your mind that was rarely visited before heading into the large building. By this point, you’ve become overly familiar with the place; a token of your dedication to get better. In spite of the fact that you were no stranger to the setting, an unbearable feeling of discomfort overcame you in that moment. You were undeterred by this sudden shift in your emotions and forced your feet to carry you to the elevator.

You pressed the button to the top floor, briefly recalling the days when you only had to go to the fifth floor. How time flies.

The second you stepped off the elevator, you noticed a young woman waiting to greet you. She led you to the large office, knocking once before letting her boss know you had arrived. You heard a familiar voice urging her to let you in.

The doctor’s new office was twice the size of his old one—a luxury he never would’ve had without your help. Being in his office reminded you of the point in time when you were adamant about not helping him with his research. Now, helping Dr. Kwon study the enigmatic soulmate bond was the very thing you had dedicated your life to. A true irony, really.

“Y/N.” Your name was spoken fondly and with a friendly smile. “It’s been a long time since we’ve met like this. How does it feel to be back in Seoul?”

Dr. Kwon’s words made you think about how long it had been despite the fact that it felt like you left the city only yesterday. You hadn’t been able to visit him personally since you left the rehabilitation center and started working with other patients to further his research, but you never imagined that being in front of him after all this time would feel as harrowing as it did. Deep down, you knew it was only because of the torturous memories you subconsciously associated with him. Luckily for you, those memories no longer forced you into a debilitating state—a development you had worked hard to achieve.

With that thought in mind, you set the report on the doctor’s desk while murmuring a noncommittal response to his inquiry. “There aren’t any new side effects.”

Your distant response made Dr. Kwon frown. Many years had passed since you two met, yet that did nothing to help erase the line you drew all those years ago. It wasn’t unusual for his patients (you, in particular) to unconsciously project their internalized trauma onto the people in their lives, but he couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed with your behavior.

“Tell me about what’s been going on with you.” Dr. Kwon prodded gently. “Have you been seeing anyone?”

The doctor’s biggest hope was to successfully help you get past your philophobia so you could finally start living normally. However, even after all these years you still didn’t allow yourself to get close to anyone romantically in spite of knowing no one could ever hurt you as badly as your soulmate had.

“I’ve lessened my dose like you suggested.” You told him even though you knew he would read it in the report after you left.

“That…” Dr. Kwon’s smile faltered, but only for a second. “That’s great. If you aren’t experiencing any side effects or withdrawal-like symptoms, I think we can start drafting a plan for you to stop taking the suppressants altogether.”

Those words caught your interest. To be able to live normally without the help of the suppressants was something you had longed for since you started your treatment back when you were a teenager.

“Will I really be able to?”

Dr. Kwon didn’t miss the spark in your eyes as you gazed at him. It made him confident that he could potentially help you live happily like you always wanted. He would never give up his mission to help you get better, and this was the first step to achieve that goal.

“If you don’t mind staying in Seoul a bit longer.” He said simply. “This way, I’ll be able to monitor you more closely and decide how soon you can stop taking the suppressants.”

You had no intentions of extending your stay, but you would do anything to be free from the chains that came in the form of medicine. And so, you eagerly agreed.

Often times, you were thrown into situations before you realized it.

When you coincidentally ran into Soo-ah, you didn’t expect her to invite you to come out with her and a handful of your former classmates. You had meant to politely decline her invitation, but instead you found yourself asking her who would be in attendance before you could stop yourself. She listed off names you could vaguely recall, but just barely. There was no mention of him.

And so, you ended up drinking with people who you didn’t know that well and vice versa. You weren’t uncomfortable per se, but there was a pressure building in your chest that you couldn’t make sense of. Luckily, the alcohol helped you forget about the foreign sensation as well as the other strident thoughts that had been on your mind.

It wasn’t until you stumbled out of the place that the real trouble began.

You had taken all of two steps, but came to an abrupt stop after you heard a quiet yet forceful call of your name. Han Seojun was walking toward you with a strange look in his eyes. In that instant, you knew that whatever was coming next wouldn’t be pleasant.

“How long are you planning on staying in Seoul?”

His question threw you off. Seojun was someone you could hardly call a friend, and you were certain that wouldn’t change with time. Despite not liking the premonition that came along with his words, you answered him anyway.

“Not long.” You told him truthfully. “I have some work related things to take care of, then I’m leaving.”

Seojun remained silent as if in deep thought, and you assumed he was done with the conversation. But as you turned on your heel to walk away, he called out to you again. This time, the tension in his tone made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“About Lee Suho…”

You tensed instantly. Just the simple mention of his name awoke feelings in you that you thought you’d gotten rid of a long time ago. Instead of reacting in a way that would give away your true emotions, you turned your head slightly to look at him. Seojun could only see half of your face, but it was enough for him to hope that you might still care about his friend.

“He’s missed you. Even though he’s living abroad right now, he still—”

“I have to go.” You interrupted him, unwilling to hear the rest of his tirade. “I’ll see you around.”

Back then, you had no idea it was only the beginning of fate’s cruel plan.

People often said fate was something that you made yourself—something that wasn’t predetermined but something that was subject to change depending on the course of action taken. You weren’t so sure if that was true because more often than not, you found that the course of your life was filled with trials and tribulations that were completely out of your control. These painful events (as your mother and countless therapists said) were meant to build character. In your case, they just hurt.

However, now that you were older, you were starting to understand what people meant.

After all, it was you who decided to remove yourself from the situation and distance yourself from your soulmate. It was you who made the effort to get better and build a new life for yourself. That had to count for something.

You had come this far, and that in itself was a notable achievement. Soon enough, you would no longer be dependent on the supplements Dr. Kwon developed soon after you came into his care. It wouldn’t be long before you would be free to live your life without any restraints.

That thought alone made you appreciate the view that much more. Snow was falling lightly, but it didn’t take away from the calmness you felt. Nothing could kill the high you were on. Finally, everything seemed to be falling into place. The peaceful life you always yearned for was within your reach, ready to be taken.

“Y/N.”

There was a sudden heaviness in your chest and feet after you heard your name. Every single hair on your body stood up at the sound of an eerily familiar voice calling your name, a voice that you wouldn’t be able to forget in a million years. Hesitantly and very slowly, you turned around only to come face-to-face with the one person you hoped to never see again.

The mere sight of him evoked a jagged feeling from your chest that you were very familiar with. It was no longer as intense as it once was—a curtesy of the supplements you were taking. However, you weren’t numb to the dull ache seeing your soulmate caused.

Suho’s face crumpled instantly at the sight of your watery eyes. The glistening tears in your eyes could’ve easily been mistaken for previous crystals from how brightly they were shining. He reached forward and cupped your frozen face, barely able to contain the emotions swirling in his chest.

You flinched away from his touch, realizing that all the effort you made up until this point was in vain. The ache in your pounding heart reminded you that no drug in the world could be strong enough to completely detach you from all the emotions your soulmate provoked.

“I’ve missed you.”

There was a sincerity to his words that might’ve moved you at one point in time, but now his words only left a sick feeling in your stomach. This could have been due to the suppressants, or perhaps the result of being away from him for so long. Either way, the affection Suho was displaying was something you no longer wanted or needed.

“Why?” Your voice was quiet as a single tear fell from your eye. “You rejected me.”

Unlike before, Suho’s expressions were completely transparent. His wounded eyes almost had you regretting your blunt words. Almost.

Not being able to withstand the sight of his pained expression any longer, you turned around and ran.

It was a well-known fact that the string of fate pulled soulmates closer and closer until the two souls were eventually brought together. Trying to resist the tug was practically impossible and, in most cases, futile. You were no exception to this natural contingency despite taking every possible measure you could to fight it. Eventually, you learned that fate wasn’t something that could actively or easily be avoided.

That’s why it wasn’t too surprising when you crossed paths with Suho so soon after you saw him the other night at the bridge. Whether it was coincidental or not, the strength of the bond was enough to soothe the initial irritation you felt at seeing your soulmate. Perhaps the power of the pull was what made you accept the invitation to have a meal with him, or maybe it was out of the need to prove to yourself that Suho could no longer affect you in the intense way that he used to.

The restaurant wasn’t anything grand, but they did serve alcohol which was perfect for you because you weren’t sure you could sit through a meal with the person who broke your heart while being completely sober. You didn’t hesitate to start drinking before the waiter brought your food out.

“So,” Suho cleared his throat as he saw you down a shot with concern. “How have you been?”

It was a loaded question that almost made you angry because how did he think you had been? Undergoing treatment wasn’t anything easy, and it definitely wasn’t pleasant. But you couldn’t bring yourself to spit out your poisonous thoughts. If you agreed to join him it was because you were better now (and to potentially expand on your research). You couldn’t let all your hard work go to waste because of his sudden reappearance and your petty need to make him feel the same way you had all those years ago.

Suho saw you hesitate, and for a moment he was worried that the resentment you seemed to feel for him would keep him from getting closer to you. He felt extremely relieved when you answered him politely, seemingly not too caught up with rehashing the past.

“You actually worked with the Dr. Kwon?” Suho was in awe.

“I still do.” You told with a nod. “I’m the one who helped him develop the suppressant for the soulmate bond.”

Your comment wasn’t malicious, but Suho felt his chest tighten uncomfortably. The drug you helped develop was worldwide famous as it was the first of its kind. He had read about all of its effects and how it was life changing for people who had been rejected by their soulmates. People like you.

When you saw the look on Suho’s face, you let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I’m taking them, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

There was an awkward pause, and you weren’t sure why everything had become so tense all of a sudden. Suho should’ve guessed that you were taking the suppressants because of the fact that you were still alive. Without those drugs, you would’ve died a long time ago. It would’ve been easy enough to tell him that, but something restrained you from doing so.

“So… you don’t feel anything now that you’re with me?”

That wasn’t exactly true. A suppressant was different from a blocker, and even modern medicine wasn’t advanced enough to stop all the effects caused by the soulmate bond. However, you didn’t tell Suho any of that. It was petty, but there was still that part of you that was unwilling to let him off so easily.

“Not really. I feel the like I’m spending time with any other person.” You lied.

Suho felt a sharp pain strike his chest. The throbbing was painful, but all he could focus on was your cold expression. There was no trace of resentment or love or anything. Just a blank canvas that he was unable to fill.

After a beat of silence, you spoke up, unable to stand the discomfort that suddenly consumed you. “I’m sorry about your dad. It must’ve been hard for you.”

Your words caught Suho by surprise. He wasn’t sure how you knew that his dad had been in the hospital while he was abroad, but it hardly mattered. The knot in his chest loosened when he saw your earnest expression. Your empathy was just that, but to Suho it meant the world. It touched him deeply that despite all the pain he had put you through, you didn’t hate him enough to rejoice in his misfortune.

“He’s better now. That’s part of the reason why I came back.”

You didn’t need to hear the other part because you knew what it was, and you weren’t ready for him to vocalize it. Dr. Kwon would be proud.

Suho seemed to realize you were uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject. “How has it been helping Dr. Kwon with his research?”

“Healing.” You told him without thinking. “It helped me get better, and now I’m one step closer to living a normal life like everyone else.”

A sudden pain struck Suho in the chest. Your smiling face managed to soothe some of the sting, but not fully. He would never be able to truly forgive himself for what he did to you. It was his fault you hadn’t been able to finish off high school like everyone else. He was the reason you hadn’t been able to live like any other person who found their soulmate. But somehow Suho pushed down those feelings of painful regret and smiled back at you.

“That’s great, Y/N.” He managed to say through the pain he felt. “I’m… I’m really happy for you.”

Seeing Suho was starting to become a regular occurrence. He was insistent on spending time with you even though you weren’t always welcoming of his company. Recently, he had started to walk you to work. There were times where his actions moved you and times where his actions irritated you. It was usually the latter, but this time you couldn’t be angry or annoyed. Not when it was clear that something was wrong. The moment you laid eyes on Suho, an uncomfortable feeling pinched at your stomach only for it to die down and completely disappear within the next second.

“Hey, are you okay?” You asked, unable to hide the worry in your voice.

Suho caught the emotion in your tone and faintly smiled. “Are you worried about me?”

The contrast in his behavior always threw you off. He wasn’t acting like the person you remembered, and you never knew what to make of his perplexing behavior. Was this really the person you met back in high school? It didn’t seem like it. There was a subtle jerk in your chest, almost as if the emotions being repressed by your medicine were clawing to get out. You frowned at the feeling.

“Have you looked in the mirror today?” You ignored his question. “You don’t look okay.”

Suho shrugged off your words. Instead he told you to have a good day and to not overwork yourself. That was another thing you couldn’t understand. Suho followed you everywhere, except your workplace. You weren’t sure why he had an apparent aversion to the building you currently worked in, but you didn’t dwell on it. Having a place you were able to escape to made you forget all about his abnormal behavior. Well, not entirely.

It was difficult not to think about the situation you had found yourself in. You didn’t know exactly what to call this… relationship between you two, but it felt like you were in a sort of limbo state. It was alarming and potentially problematic because recovery was something that was well within your grasp, and you weren’t sure if Suho was hindering you from finally grabbing what you worked so hard to achieve.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Perhaps not telling Dr. Kwon that your soulmate was back and regularly seeing you wasn’t the wisest decision, but you were sure he would have canceled his plan to take you off the suppressants if you had told him the truth. You kept your cool expression in tact, not willing to give yourself away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dr. Kwon frowned. You hadn’t so much as looked up from the paperwork in front of you, but he wouldn’t let you get away from his question so easily. Not when it was about life or death.

“I’m talking about the fact that a man named Han Seojun came in here asking about a consultation for his friend, Lee Suho.”

The shift in your eyes was immediate. You couldn’t hide the emotion on your face as you looked over at Dr. Kwon. He was looking at you with a somber expression, waiting for your explanation. But you couldn’t be concerned with that because there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that wasn’t allowing you to think straight.

“Han Seojun managed to get him in here for a check up.” The doctor continued after realizing that you weren’t going to provide him with the answers he was looking for. “I’ve haven’t seen so much strain on a heart in a long time. His results look almost like yours did all those years ago.”

Blood rushed to your ears, partially muting all the noise in the room. The feel of your heart pounding painfully against your chest was foreign now, yet familiar all at the same time. It was almost entirely painful, but not quite. No. This couldn’t be happening. There had to be some sort of mistake. But you knew there wasn’t. The signs had been there, and you had purposely ignored them because you hadn’t wanted to entertain the possibility of Suho going through what you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.

“You’re rejecting the soulmate bond.” Dr. Kwon said simply, not knowing he was voicing your greatest fear. “If he doesn’t undergo treatment soon, he will die.”

There was a moment where you could only hear your heartbeat. It’s unsteady rhythm was the only thing you could focus on in order to hold back your tears. It was true that you didn’t want Suho in your life, but to think he was experiencing the same pain you had made you feel sick to your stomach. No one, not even Suho, deserved to experience that type of pain. You could only press your lips together, afraid that a sob might break through at any moment.

“Y/N?”

You lifted your distant eyes, as if snapping out of some sort of trance. “Sharing a person’s medical information is a crime.”

Dr. Kwon frowned, but wasn’t all that fazed by your threatening reminder because he was aware that your reaction was nothing more than a byproduct of the trauma caused by your soulmate. Still, he had expected more from you. The treatment you received at the facility he founded was meant to help you (which it had—physically), but it had also inadvertently morphed your philophobia into something more grave that didn’t allow you to be emotionally vulnerable.

The doctor let out a deep sigh. “Y/N—”

“If you’re going to treat him, then do it.” You said as you put down the paperwork. “Just don’t expect me to care about what happens to him.”

With that cold statement, you stood up and grabbed your things. You hurried to the door, not willing to be in the office any longer. Just as you reached the door, you were stopped by the doctor’s voice.

“He won’t take the supplements.” Dr. Kwon said. “I don’t know why, but he’s unwilling to undergo any sort of treatment.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to keep the tears in your eyes. It was difficult, but you swallowed the lump in your throat and walked out of the large office without looking back.

Suho never thought you would ask to see him first. It was something that went beyond his all of his wildest dreams, and for the first time he felt the pressure in his chest loosen. You had asked to meet him at the bridge where he first encountered you after returning, and he didn’t hesitate to clear his schedule in order to meet you. He didn’t have time to think about why you wanted to see him. It didn’t matter, either. Not when you willingly wanted to see him and spend time with him.

Suho made it to the bridge in record time. His eyes immediately spotted you, able to distinguish you almost immediately. Even from afar you looked as stunning as ever. The bright city lights managed to give you an ethereal glow that took his breath away. Not wanting to keep you wait any longer, Suho was quick to go over to where you were standing.

“Y/N.”

You turned around, expression as blank as usual. It was a bit disappointing, but Suho wouldn’t let that deter his mood. When he finally got close enough, he could see traces of concern in your eyes. It made him wonder what was wrong while thinking of ways he could ease your discomfort.

“Suho.”

He hadn’t heard you say his name in years despite all the time you two had spent together. It was like music to his ears, and it made him hopeful that you two were finally moving in the right direction. Maybe earning your forgiveness wouldn’t be impossible like he originally thought.

“You’re dying.” You said shakily. “Because of me.”

Suho felt his heart sink into his stomach. He didn’t have any time to think about how you found out, but he couldn’t stand to see at the wounded look in your eyes. The last thing he had wanted to do was hurt you, yet that was the very thing he did.

His silence made the sickening feeling amplify. It was true. You had known it was since Dr. Kwon had told you, but part of you had hoped it was a mistake or a flat out lie. To think that you were doing the same thing Suho did to you was reprehensible. All your years of helping people and your own recovery didn’t seem to mean anything because it felt like you were right back at where you started. Except now it was you who was causing the pain.

You swallowed thickly, not believing this was happening. “Why… Why wouldn’t you agree to take the suppressants?”

The stoic expression that was imprinted in your mind made an appearance for the first time since you two met again. It made you feel sick and like you were trapped in the middle of a bizarre nightmare.

“Don’t you realize what you’re doing?” Your voice rose slightly. “How could you be reckless enough to disregard your own health?”

Suho’s eyes gleamed with regret and something else you couldn’t identify. “You did the same thing back then. You risked your life for my happiness.”

The suppressants weren’t perfect, and still left room for error. Often times, the emotions people didn’t want to feel passed through and consumed them. But now it felt like you weren’t taking the medicine at all because in the next instant, you were bursting with emotions, the most prominent one being anger. How could he compare your situations? How could he think that this was what you wanted?

There was a tense pause, one that didn’t last very long but felt like an eternity.

“Don’t act like you’re doing some selfless deed.” You hissed, feeling angry tears pinch the back of your eyes. “What I did back when we met isn’t the same as what you’re doing now, and you fucking know it.”

For a moment, you two only stared at each other fiercely. Similar emotions were building inside both of you, ready to burst at the seams. Neither of you were willing to speak the truth, but expected the other to understand.

“You chose to do that for me back then.” Suho forced himself to say. “It was your choice, and what I’m doing now is mine.”

And it was his choice. Suho would never forgive himself for everything he did to you, and he was certain there was nothing he could ever do to make it up to you. Except this. Only going through the same pain would he be able to truly repent his mistakes. The only problem was that you didn’t take his words in the way he meant them.

“It was never my choice!” You yelled angrily, feeling like you could explode from the rage. “Why would I ever choose to feel the pain you put me through?”

Everything was happening too quickly, but it was too late to backtrack. The misunderstandings and the misuse of words didn’t matter anymore because you were finally letting your true feelings spill out of you like a waterfall.

“You were the one who rejected the bond that we have without caring about how it would effect me!”

The sight of your tears came as another blow to Suho’s chest, one that was much stronger than all the others. Everything was falling apart so quickly. Too quickly to stop it. Suho took a step toward you but you stepped back. The anger and pain you were feeling was evident now.

“When are you going to stop hurting me?”

Suho sucked in a sharp breath. Your words made him feel as terrible as he did when he found out you couldn’t see your string. A single tear slid down his face as he looked at your pain-filled expression. The bond between you was completely damaged, and for the first time he could feel it.

“Wasn’t it enough for you when you almost killed me because you loved Lim Jugyeong?” You wondered, feeling like your throat was closing in on itself. “I didn’t know about our bond, but you willingly ignored it. When I found out, you didn’t hesitate to tell me you didn’t want me as your soulmate. I accepted all of that, so why… why do you keep doing this to me?”

Subconsciously rejecting or accepting the soulmate bond was something every human did as soon as they recognized their soulmate, and it had a stronger effect than most people would ever understand. It might’ve occurred to you that this is exactly what you were doing, but thinking logically wasn’t possible with all the emotions that were overpowering your thoughts. It no longer mattered that you never intended for any of this to happen because it had. Because it was fate.

Suho couldn’t stand it anymore. All the pain he caused you was suffocating, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He reached for you, only to be stopped by the blinding pain his chest. Tiny black dots clouded his vision before they completely engulfed it.

You could only watch in horror as Suho collapsed on the ground just as you had all those years ago.

At times, you wondered if your entire life was nothing more than a terrible dream. Some of the things that happened to you felt too surreal and distorted to be an actual part of reality. However, there was always certain moments that managed to remind you that your life was far from a dream. Seeing Suho’s pale form laying in a hospital bed was one of those moments.

You watched him carefully, gasping quietly when his eyes slowly opened.

When Suho saw you by his bedside, it immediately eased some of the pain he was feeling. You tearfully whispered his name, no longer hiding behind the stoic mask he had grown used to. It almost made him feel like all the pain was worth it.

“I’ll go get the doctor.”

You stood to leave, but Suho immediately caught you by your wrist. He gently caressed it, looking like he might cry. “Stay. Please.”

And you did. You slowly sat back down, feeling the enigmatic pull take over your actions. You hadn’t felt it in years, and you wondered if it would be a good idea to take more of the suppressants before your feelings became too intense to control.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized through the tears. “I shouldn’t have said all those things to you knowing that your health is in a delicate state.”

Your apology meant the world to Suho, but it also managed to make him feel horrible. Just like back then, you were putting his feelings before your own, and he couldn’t stand it. He didn’t deserve the consideration you gave him back then, and he definitely didn’t deserve it now.

Suho shook his head. “Everything you said is the truth. I deserve that and much more.”

You pressed your lips together before letting out a shaky sigh. None of that mattered anymore. The only thing you were concerned about was helping him get better. “Take the suppressants.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” You demanded, feeling your heart clench painfully. “The pain is only going to get worse.”

“It’s nothing compared to what I did to you.”

His words made your heart ache. At one point in your life you wanted him to suffer in the same way you had, but now it was the last thing you wanted. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but Suho didn’t seem to realize that. Seeing him in this state wasn’t what you wanted at all. Didn’t he understand that?

“If you don’t agree to undergo the treatment, you’ll die.” You told him, your voice was an apparent mixture of fear and guilt. “How could you think that would make me happy?”

“You haven’t forgiven me for what I did, and neither have I.” Suho said. The tears in his eyes spilled over as he looked at you. “I don’t deserve it either.”

You couldn’t stop your tears own from falling. He had it all wrong, and you weren’t sure that you could ease his pain despite having done it so many times before.

“It’s not that I don’t forgive you.” You whimpered as you took ahold of his hand.

This next part was going to be difficult for you to express, but it needed to be done. It was the only way you were going to be able to truly heal from all the pain that you went through.

“It’s that I don’t forgive myself.” Your confession came out in a shaky sigh. “I didn’t love myself enough to put my health first. Even back then, I had the option to get treated before the pain became unbearable, but I didn’t because I loved you more than I loved myself.”

You let out a quiet sob. “And I’ve never been able to forgive myself for that.”

If anyone understood that feeling, it was Suho. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms, caging you against him. It felt warm and comforting—an unexpected safe place. It made you feel completely protected, like nothing and no one could ever hurt you.

“It’s not your fault.” He whispered. “None of it.”

Suho couldn’t have known it, but his words set you free. Finally, you accepted that your father’s death wasn’t you fault, neither was the resentment your mother felt, not even the fact that Suho had rejected you. None of it was your fault. You were only a victim of the circumstances.

The road to recovery wouldn’t be an easy path, but it was one that you were both willing to take.

Fate was a strange concept, indeed.

Even now, you couldn’t tell if destiny was something that was predetermined or something that could be made, but it didn’t matter. You walked the path that you were meant to take despite not being ready for it. In the end, it had led you to the place that you were meant to be at.

“Y/N!”

You looked over your shoulder with a smile, seeing Suho excitedly wave at you from the other end of the street. He jogged over to you with a giant grin on his face before engulfing you in a tight hug. His warm embrace gave you a sense of security that you had grown to love.

“Did you have fun with Seojun?” You asked, feeling like you were in the middle of a blissful trance.

“The guy thinks he’s all that because he’s famous now.” Suho said jokingly, emitting a laugh from you.

An entire year had passed since that day in the hospital, and now you could proudly say that you had successfully worked past your philophobia. It hadn’t been easy, but with help from Dr. Kwon and even Suho you managed to overcome all the trauma you had been unconsciously clinging on to. Now, you were living happily without the help of suppressants.

Suho pulled back, looking at you with shining eyes. He cupped your face before he swooped down and pressed his lips against your own. You melted into the kiss instantly, feeling a fiery passion consume you. The movement of his lips was sweet yet strong. It managed to make your head swim with euphoria. Suho gently caressed your cheek before he slowly drew back.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t contain your smile. “I love you, too.”

Suho let you go and swiftly grabbed your hand. He swung it happily as you two walked down the street. “Where should we go?”

“There’s a new comic store that opened down the street.” You told him with a grin. “Let’s check it out.”

Suho gave you another smile and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. The sheer joy you felt in that moment seemed unreal. It was hard to believe that you managed to get to this point where happiness was a regular part of your life. You never imagined that it would be a part of fate’s plan for you. There was only one thing that made you realize it was all real and not part of some blissful dream.

You looked down at your intertwined hands, smiling wider when you saw the red thread wrapped around your index finger.