Summary: Imagine, from the time you’re born having a clock that counts down to the time you meet your soulmate. One day you meet Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and the clock stops. Now, you have to figure out which one it is.
Word Count: 1,610
Warnings: Language, talk of soulmates, possible smut, trying for a long burn.
Author’s Note: Thank you @captain-rogers-beard for your invaluable help with this. GIF credit [X][X]
My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.
Today was the day. You were going to meet your soulmate. Part of you hated the fact that you didn’t get to choose who you were going to spend the rest of your life with, the other part, well, that part was as excited as a sixteen year old that got her dream car for her birthday. She was jumping around, screaming at the top of her lungs, throwing confetti, and Jesus Christ, was she nervous.
What if he hated you or found you annoying? What if he thought you were too short or ugly? What if he was ugly? No… that wasn’t right. A man’s humor and brain were what you noticed first. Did it hurt if he was attractive? No. But you weren’t shallow.
It was difficult to focus, to go about your daily routine as if your life weren’t about to change, as if in three hours, you weren’t going to meet the one that you’d spend the rest of your life with. Were you always on board with the idea that you didn’t get to choose who you fell in love with? Hell no. But there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Everyone had a soulmate. It was just how things were.
Your parents found each other when they were toddlers, your sister and brother-in-law when they were in high school. It wasn’t a tattoo or an obscure feeling. It was an internal clock that started ticking from the moment you were born. A clock that counted down to the day, the hour, the minute, the very second that you would meet him.
“You’re distracted today,” Clint chuckled, nudging you with his elbow.
With a forced smile, you focused on the task at hand; finishing putting away the stack of books on your cart. “I’m fine, Barton. Just trying to keep busy.”
He dropped a finger to your wrist and felt your pulse. “Nope. Not buying it, Y/N.”
You about dropped a copy of The Princess Bride, but your sweaty hand stuck to the paperback cover. “I’m meeting him today,” you admitted breathlessly. “I’m nervous, alright?”
“Of course you are,” Clint said, his hand now on your shoulder. “Should’a seen me when I met Nat,” he chuckled.
The frayed nerves instantly calmed as you let loose a rich laugh. “Oh, God, I can only imagine.”
“She ran into me, literally, a streak of red hair and black leather flying out of a club.” Clint was shaking his head as he leaned against the bookcase you were stocking.
“What did you do?” you asked as this was the first time you heard the story.
“Nothing I really could do,” he admitted. “I barely kept us on our feet. Then she kissed me.”
You sighed heavily. “Of course you two hit it off right away. You guys are perfect.”
“There’s nothing perfect about us, Y/N,” Clint pointed out. “We fight about the dumbest things.”
“But you love each other, have since the first meeting,” you pushed.
Just once, you wanted to hear how rough of a start a couple had, how they looked at each other and rolled their eyes, groaning at the prospect of being with that one person until the end of time. Because, deep down, you were convinced that was going to happen to you.
Crossing his arms, Clint watched as you finished stocking the shelf. “It will go just fine.”
With a scoff, you rolled your eyes. “You only say that because your soulmate literally fell into your arms and kissed you. I’m sure you were married the next day.”
He huffed a laugh. “We were.”
“So was my sister, my parents, my parent’s parents, their parents, and theirs. I’m just -”
“What, Y/N?” Clint interrupted gently. You knew he hated it when you talked negatively about yourself.
Catching sight of the time, you mumbled for him to, “Just forget it. I’m going to lunch.” You pushed away from your friend, shoved your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, and left the store.
You lied about wanting to get something to eat. What you really wanted to do was get away from the noise, to get rid of all the soulmate racket bouncing inside the grey matter like a ping pong ball. It was weird how fast things changed. Just a handful of hours ago you were excited about meeting your soulmate, and now… now, all you wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed.
With your head down and your hands in your pockets, you didn’t have time to catch yourself when you tripped. Swearing, you braced for the impact, but it never came.
“Shit,” a deep voice ground out. “You alright?”
You turned in a set of thick arms and looked up into ocean-blue eyes. “I uh… ye- yeah,” you stammered.
“Careful now,” someone chuckled from next to you, hand on your elbow.
The man whose arms you were in stood up, pulling you with him, unintentionally dragging you along every inch of his body. You looked to your left, dropped your hand to the other man’s forearm for support, and found another set of intense blue eyes drilling into yours. The air was sickeningly thick between the three of you, sparking with unspent electricity, pulsing, and almost painful.
“Oh, shit,” the three of you said at the same time. You knew then and there that you had met your soulmate. The only problem was, you didn’t know who it was since you were currently sandwiched between two men.
You stayed there, trapped between two rock-solid bodies, under the intense gazes of identical blue eyes, your racing hearts beating as one, until it felt like you were going to implode. With shaking legs, you pushed away and sucked in a ragged breath.
The man that had caught you in his arms looked as if someone had punched him in the gut, and the other guy, well… he didn’t look any better. They both licked their lips – lips that you found yourself wanting to kiss and suck on – and stared hard at you.
“The fuck was that?” you demanded, your vision swimming and your brain short circuiting. You’d heard various accounts of what it was like to meet your soulmate. Plain and simple, no two experiences were the same. but you’d never heard of one this extreme before.
Both men took a step towards you, hands held out, concern etched in their faces. “Take it easy,” the blonde one rasped, his large hand shaking in front of him.
You about tripped over your own feet as you backed away. “Who… who are you?”
The brunette cleared his throat, though it remained gravelly when he answered. “My name is Bu- James… James Barnes,” he introduced himself, his tongue darting out to dampen his tongue. “People call me Buck… or Bucky.”
“My name is Steve,” the one whose arms you were in moments ago said. “And you are?”
“Y/N,” you panted, heat flushing your skin. The sting of electricity had started to fade, leaving behind an aching pulse. “Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, your voice growing steadier with every bone-shuddering beat of your heart.
You watched as both men swallowed heavily, their eyes drifting closed for a moment as they composed themselves. Their eyes fluttered open at exactly the same speed, the same time… it was weird… how in sync the two men were, even in the way their shoulders twitched, in the way they walked, in just about everything they did.
Steve stopped further back from you than Bucky did. “I think we should find someplace not so… public to talk.”
It was still early enough that the diner you had suggested wasn’t overrun with the lunch crowd. You had picked a booth in the far corner, you on one side of the table, Bucky and Steve on the other. After texting Clint, saying you wouldn’t be coming back to work that afternoon, you tucked the phone into your pocket, and met the serious gazes of the men you ran into mere minutes ago.
“So,” you breathed, hands wringing together on the table. “How’s this supposed to work?”
Both men shrugged their wide shoulders and chuckled in unison, but it was Bucky that answered. “Hell if we know, doll.”
“You’re not the only one confused,” Steve murmured, eyes darting from his friend to you. “We were sorta hoping you knew what was going on.”
“Soulmate is singular,” you scoffed. “Means one. There’s two of you and one of me. I don’t… I’ve never…” you groaned and ran a hand over your face.
As if meeting your soulmate wasn’t emotionally compromising enough for you. You had barely prepared yourself to meet one of them. But two soulmates? You’d never heard of such a thing.
“There’s got to be a reasonable explanation. I mean… maybe too much static in the air.” You were grasping at straws, and deep down, you knew it.
Both men chuckled under their breath and slid a hand across the table at the same time. There it was again, that unspent electric spark passing through Bucky’s hand to yours, and yours to Steve’s. It wasn’t painful this time, rather the opposite. The pulsing heat of it was calming, silencing the chaos inside your mind. You could tell just by looking at them, that they were experiencing the same thing. All the unanswered questions, the noise and confusion, the previous anxiety; all of it melted away.
The three of you sat there, hands connected, this continuously pulsing energy surging through you, until the manager of the diner came over.
“I’m sorry, but we’re closing.”
TWO
Everything: @captain-rogers-beard @badassbaker @fatalcrossbow @sunriserose1023 @alyssaj23 @ssweet-empowerment @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @palaiasaurus64 @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @nyxveracity @breezy1415 @titty-teetee @melaninmarvel @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @wildefire @capsheadquaters @saharzek @speakinvain @diinofayce @mizzzpink @pebblesz892 @stevieang @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl @iwillwakeherinthemorning @lea—-b @redqueen1221 @brittyevans @moisttoas-t @nuggsmumreads @jobean12-blog @fireismysaftey @msshadowboxer @vechkinfan @prettybubblesintheair @kanupps06 @rainbowkisses31 @janeyboo @banlaochranda @ellie-bee242 @shieldsandsunsets @evanstandream @punkrockhufflefluff @winters-beauty @unlikelygalaxygiver @thirtiethnovember @sexyvixen7 @whope123 @mscaptainjones @awkward-walking-potato @memory-of-a-goldfish @somethingwitty-somethingsweet @minarawr @xserenax-13 @andiyholly @bionic-buckyb @princess76179 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @female-accountant @whitemoonstag @xxashy999xx @coffeewithjake @nerdgirljen @everythingisoverrated @angelsofalliteration @walkingtravesty97 @jbarnes87 @akamaiden @part-time-patronus @slytherin-in-hufflepuff-robes @emmawatsonbelle @joannie95 @jamesbbbarnes-blog @buckysothiccbarnes @paintballkid711 @teafocus @cxptain-bxcky @letsdisneythings @gonnadiereading @nomadstevergxrs @kaliforniacoastalteens @marvelcomicsz @tutis24 @i-speak-sarcasmmm @thebiggestmarvelnerd @attemptsatliving @thisismysecrethappyplace @glitterquadricorn @carls1022 @marvelellie @feelmyroarrrr @neeadinghugs @minahraven @gigistorm
Stucky: @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @autoblocked @its–fandom–darling @eshia16 @daiiybuugle @delicatecapnerd @phoenix21love @natcad @its-a-pretty-interesting-wall @lillwindmill
Closing the Loop: @kristenallison04 @margxrxtcarter @1-fighting-dreamer @supermoonpanda @making-the-most-0f-it @thefanficfaerie @twentyjuanpancakes @robecca-le-blog-des-citations @lupine-princess @vialuciferscage @harkness-trenchcoat @hufflepuffle97 @patzammit @shynara51 @kimskew
Star Barnes' Writing Blog 