#anne x reader

[amphibiahawks321]

M!Reader : Hey Anne!

Anne : Hm? Oh! Yes Y/N!

M!Reader : I like you!

Anne : .....

[Anne starts blushing red as a tomato]

Anne blushing : i like you too Y/N!

M!Reader : See iron? It's completely okay to tell your friends you like them!

Iron : .....

Iron : Anne just fainted-

[sinsmockingbird]

This thought has been plaguing my mind all weekend, and I just needed to write something on it.

CW: SFW under the cut

I've had thoughts on surrogacy recently (strange, I know). Which lead me to thinking of becoming a surrogate mother for an [Insert Ship]. Really this idea can be used for any wlw ship, but there was one that stood out to me, that @sea-lanterns so kindly gave me thoughts for. That ship being IronAnne; Iron x Anne from PTN.

So, just hear out the idea I have. Maybe I'll expand on it more in the future if people want me to. Also feel free to let me know what other ships you think this idea could work with.

It wasn't exactly an- ideal situation in Iron's eyes, at first. She didn't like kids and didn't want them, she found them to be pretty disgusting and insufferable. But, Anne did want them. It was a conflicting situation for the doctor- she didn't want to have kids but she desperately wanted to see her beloved happy.

It took some time and convincing for Iron to give in, but she made it very very clear to Anne that she wasn't carrying it. It was a disappointment to the nurse but she didn't fight it, just happy with the fact Iron ended up agreeing and being more open to having kids with her.

The disappointing part was that Anne couldn't have kids of her own, due to health reasons and high risk of death during birth. It left the couple with few options, but in the end they decided to get a surrogate.

Anne would lend one of her eggs to the surrogate and they would then get an anonymous sperm donor. It was quick and easy- well everything except finding someone who they thought and trusted could carry their child. It was a long process of countless interviews with different people, but finally in the end, they found someone.

They found you.

The process went smoothly and in no time you were pregnant and carrying Iron and Anne's child. Because of this you moved in with the two, and they both took time in caring for you in anyway you needed.

Iron always made sure you and the baby were healthy with weekly checkups she could easily do from home. She may have been cold and quiet most of them time, you knew she was genuinely appreciative of you for agreeing to be their surrogate. She would make this known with small gestures, either with soft touches, or going out of her way to do minor things for you without a word.

Anne was quite the opposite. She was basically glued to your side, always telling you how thankful she was for what you were doing. She was kind and open, always helping you with minimal things, like helping you up from the couch, bathing you, or feeding you dinner during times the pregnancy got hard. She was so caring to you, always making sure you were alright and comfortable.

It wasn't a surprise that you'd fall in love with them.

At first you'd try your hardest to kerp your feelings at bay and push them aside. You were simply a surrogate, carrying their baby. They were a happy couple so obviously in love with one another that you didn't want to ruin anything between them because of your feelings.

But on one particular night, where Anne was being especially attentive of you, you couldn't stop yourself from kissing her. You had pulled away quickly, apologizing profusely to her. But Anne simply cupped your face innher hands, kissed you again and told you she had been waiting too long to do that.

You were relieved to know she reciprocated your feelings- but then you remembered Iron. You liked her as well just as much as Anne, but how were going to tell her that? How would she react to her lover liking and kissing you back?

Anne didn't hesitate to answer when she began talking about how her and Iron had begun to fall for you during your stay with them, that they weren't sure how you'd react to their feelings. But lucky for them you liked them back as well.

Telling Iron about what occurred and about your feelings, it wasn't long for you to join their relationship. It was perfect, they were perfect. Always showing you love in their own special ways, making sure to care and love you. They were also quick to accept you as a parent of their child, and you were ecstatic to give birth to their- no your guy's baby.

And once they were born, you couldn't haven't been happier to have gained two new partners and a child from deciding to become a surrogate.

[fandomnerd9602]

Starlight x Male Superman Reader

The reader is a Kryptonian and he's dating Annie. During the final battle in Season 2, the reader lands in front of Homelander and Stormfront, fighting against both of them.

Y/N lands in front of Homelander and Stormfront…

Y/N: I’m not with Vought. So I’m really gonna enjoy not having to hold back

Stormfront throws a punch, Y/N grabs her fist and shatters her hand…

Y/N lasers Homelander through the head…

Starlight runs in and finishes off Stormfront…

Y/N: baby are you okay?

Anne: yeah. I love you so much

Y/N: I love you. What do you say we start our own real super team?

[nian-7]

OMG A NEW BLOG WELCOME! *hugg*kdjsks Can I ask for Bae's reaction (separately) when his reader fem steals a kiss from them, I mean she plans a fun strategy to get them closer~ and when they least expect it zaaz she steals a kiss from them xdd hehe thanks youu and have a good day :')

HI!! THANK YOU! please enjoy!!

Allen, Hajun, Anne x fem!reader

✧stealing a kiss

✧fluff

-Completely oblivious to the fact that you're creating fun plans just to steal a kiss and it catches him off guard each time. Suddenly plopping down beside him while he's thinking of lyrics? He just thinks you're coming to help him until you turn his face towards your own to steal a kiss from his lips. He gets hella embarrassed just from the shock of it.

-Allen tends to just not even realize that you've made a game out of it even though Anne and Hajun can clearly see what you've been doing. He's pretty easy to shock with a kiss if you enjoy seeing his blushing face even when he laughs off the warm feeling inside him. He's just happy to have gotten a kiss from his girlfriend!

-Sometimes he tries to beat you to it because he thinks that you came by to steal another kiss and gets confused when he sees your slightly shocked face. He's not particularly slick about trying to beat you to it either, you clearly can tell when he's thinking about it because he gets a bit fidgety since he's a bit nervous.

-" Wha- What'd you do that for, babe?! Outta nowhere too! "

-He's literally so annoying about it... After he figures it out, which will happen pretty quickly, he starts to dodge them. He thinks it's funny just watching you pout about it. You'd have to get really creative with your plans to get in close enough.

-Hajun plays off dodging the kiss so smoothly though even with that smirk on his face that tells you he knows exactly what he's doing. Best time to even catch him off guard is when he's tired in the morning or at night. Even then he'd probably see it coming and just let you.

-Best way to catch him off guard with your plans is being either extremely bold or just making him turn towards you after his back was previously facing you so that you can catch his lips in a kiss. But either way, still very annoying about it like he can't just let his pretty girlfriend give him the kiss she wants to give him.

-" Ah, what are you trying now, hm, (name)? Now where did I put those coffee beans... "

-It's very easy to steal a kiss from Anne when they aren't paying attention. It doesn't take much persuading for them to even want a kiss in the first place.

-Simply cuddling up to each other for a movie night and then leaning over to kiss them on the lips is enough to make them smile at you. They find it cute when you try to seem sneaky about it and they just end up playing along with it.

-Anne looks forward to all the fun little plans you try to create to steal a kiss from them. Whether those plans are bold or not doesn't matter, they just like that you're having fun with it (much to Hajun's annoyance when you happen to do it in front of him).

-They'll have a sweet smile on their face as they look at you asking if you wanted another. They'd enjoy your flustered expression or if you decided to tease back. In all, Anne loves your cute plans to steal kisses and will always play along with them.

-" Do you want another one~? "

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[frickingnerd]

fake dating anne shirley cuthbert

pairing: anne shirley cuthbert x gn!reader

tags: bullying (anne being bullied), protective!reader, fake relationship, fluff, mentions of (mean) gilbert

you were quite popular in your class and had been even before anne joined the class

anne didn't like you right away, believing you to just be one of those mean popular students, who'd mock her to get a laugh out of their friends

but you were different and anne soon learned that! 

when gilbert was teasing anne about her hair color, tugging on her braids, you grabbed his wrist, calmly telling him to stop

despite gilbert claiming it was just a joke between friends, you insisted that he'd leave anne alone and stops those childish jokes

ever since then, people started to playfully tease you too, asking if you protected anne from gilbert because you were crushing on her

you didn't humor them, though when anne was being teased by a few of the boys one day, you changed your attitude towards that

you stepped in once more, this time telling them to 'leave your girlfriend alone or they'd regret it'

everyone went quiet, their confusion clearly visible, but the boys eventually apologized and quietly hurried away

word spread quickly about you calling anne your girlfriend and despite just saying it in the heat of the moment to help her out, you soon had to start acting the part

anne wasn't too thrilled about it, but you ensured her you had no intentions of forcing a relationship onto her and that this was just to help her out

begrudgingly, anne agreed to play along as your girlfriend, though only until the school year ended, after which you two would have to "break up"

[lovelyangelxxx]

if possible i would like to order some hdcs for bae ^^ with a mc fem who has tactile hypersensitivity so physical contact is very difficult for her :'^ but if she touches the same person or object multiple times she may get used to it over time ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა that would be~ thank you very much for the blog ^^)/

metanoia | paradox live bae x fem reader

metanoia; (n.) the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life.

→ how they react with a hypersensitive partner

→ fluff, g/n reader 

→ allen sugasano, yeon hajun, anne faulkner

~ hii, thank you so much for requesting! i hope i understood the prompt well enough to create something to your liking :))

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

allen sugasano ♡

~ in the beginning of your relationship, allen was shocked when he first saw you retract from his touch. he immediately asked if he had done something wrong, but you silently shook your head. you quietly explained your hypersensitivity to him. he silently nodded and patiently waited until you finished. he gently smiled and explained that he’s completely willing to take it slow with you and will be supporting you every step of the way. he promises to always be considerate and patient, and vows to always love you. in his eyes, you’re perfect, angelic, precious, and someone he will unfailingly devote himself to. 

yeon hajun ♡

~ from the start even before you started dating, he noticed your hypersensitivity before you got the chance to tell him. he’s extremely aware of how you feel and pays close attention to your mannerisms. he eventually confronts you about it and you explain the situation to him. he smiled and reassured you that he will do his best to help you and that the relationship between you won’t change. after a while, you become more comfortable with his touch, however he will still ask if you’re okay. there are times when you back away from his touch, but hajun is always patient and willing to work with the woman he loves, trusts, and adores.

anne faulkner ♡

~ anne cares for those closest to them and will put others above themself, so when anne finds out about your hypersensitivity, they’re initially worried and extremely cautious around you. however you reassure anne that over time you will become used to their touch. it takes a while for both of you to overcome these obstacles, but anne continues to be supportive and cheerful, always making sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard. anne waits patiently for you to become comfortable and when you first kissed anne, they were so happy their eyesight went hazy and they went starry-eyed. anne definitely believed that it was worth the wait. 

[welcometothedopeworld]

I "Hate" Fashion ~ *Anne Faulkner*

Summary: You're way behind in your fashion design work and Anne wants to help. However, they help you in a much bigger way than you anticipated...

Pairing: Anne Faulkner er X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 849

Warning: Anne uses they/them pronouns

Masterlist

“This is dumb.”

“It’s ironic, that’s what it is.” Anne chuckled, as they looked over your shoulder at the work you spread out on the table. “Either way, I think it still looks cute.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands, trying not to look at the simple graphic tee-shirt with the words "I "Hate" Fashion" printed on it. 

“At least you’re having fun with my misery.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to make light of a tough situation.” They shot back. “It’s not my fault your boss gave you such a tough deadline.”

“And if I don’t meet it, I’ll be sacked.” You shudder at the thought before looking over all of your designs and fabric swatches. “Hand me those scissors. I need to finish all of these designs before tomorrow.”

They grabbed them but paused before handing them over. “You’re not going to cut up that shirt, right? Because I think it’s hilarious.”

You roll your eyes. “It was a hate project I threw together because of this ridiculous deadline.”

“Still. I like it.”

“Fine! I won’t cut it up!” You huff before leaning back in your seat and rubbing your eyes. “Now will you hand me the scissors already?”

Finally you had the scissors in your hand and you began cutting out patterns. This was not how you wanted to spend your night with Anne and the rest of BAE. But your boss had moved design critiques up to tomorrow. Since you didn’t have all of your designs done, you were scrambling to finish in time. Anne assured you it was totally okay to be working while you were supposed to be hanging out, but you still felt bad.

The worst part was how boring this round of designs was. You went into fashion to be creative and have fun. It didn’t help that your boss took everything seriously and you never seemed to make anything he liked. That’s why you made the “I "Hate" Fashion” shirt. It was fun, unique, and cute! But you didn't think your boss would like it…

Then again... when did you start caring what your boss thought?

You perked up at the thought before dropping the scissors and picking up your pencil instead. Inspiration struck and now you needed to get everything on paper before translating it onto fabric.

Anne noticed your furious sketching and chuckled. "What are you doing? You have a deadline coming up. You shouldn't be screwing around."

“Now is exactly the time to be screwing around!” You informed them.

They tried to look over your shoulder but you denied them a peak until you were finished with five new designs. When you presented the sketches to them, they lit up. "Now this! This is fashion! You have to make these!"

You twirled the scissors around on one finger, causing them to duck for cover. “What do you think I'm doing?”

“I think you need to stop playing with scissors.”

You gave a small, fake pout before setting them down. “Alright. Now, hand me that bolt of satin over there.”

When they handed it over, you unwound it and draped it over your body. “How do I look?”

“Like a crazy person.”

You giggled. “I know! Now you try!”

They laughed and took a half-finished skirt to slip over their head so it rested on their shoulders. They laughed harder as they twirled around the kitchen. “Now this is what I call high fashion.”

"Exactly! Turn on some music and help me get these designs done!" You exclaimed before cutting into the satin still draped over your body.

While the two of you worked on your new designs, Anne played dress up with your half-finished projects with you. You also took plenty of candid shots of the two of you having fun dancing and wearing different fabrics in different styles. Allen and Hajun thought the two of you were crazy, but neither of you cared. Instead, you fell back in love with your passion for fashion. This is why you wanted to be a designer in the first place. You never felt happier than in this moment.

The two of you crashed three hours later, laying in a pile of fabrics and patterns on the floor of the kitchen. You weren’t sure if it was all the caffeine or the fact you were so sleep-deprived, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

"You know," They whispered in the silence of the early morning. "I think this is your best collection yet."

"It's only five pieces. It's not a collection."

They giggled. "No, but it could be. All you have to do is design more."

"I can do that." You shrug.

"I know you can." They assured you as they turned to smile at you. "Because you've got that look in your eye that you had when you first started this career path. I'm glad you got it back."

Smiling back at them, you take their hand in yours. "And it's all thanks to you, Anne."

"I'm glad I could be your inspiration."

[mistkisbiggestfan]

Could you do Anna with a survivalist reader

Anne x Survivalist! Reader

A/N: Finally got to work on my inbox!! Requests are open, kinda wasn't sure what to do at first so I hope this is okay! <33

Y/N is gn here btw, love you guys!! Word count: 1.6 k

As a survivalist you were prepared for every case, you knew how to start a fire, how to hunt, forage. Anything there was to learn about surviving you knew. So when that one day while walking through a park, you suddenly landed in a place hostile at every step, you were more than prepared. You learned how to survive on your own many years ago, sometimes sneaking out just to spend your night outdoors with nothing.

By the mark of two months you were already stacked, you found out about civilizations living around this place called Amphibia. Frogs, Toads and Newts you supposed. But it didn’t matter, you were by yourself, put through dangerous situations out there in the wilderness, by choice. And all this—the harsh weather, hostile brutes lurking at every other living creature and the strangeness of it all—had no effect on you. That was not for the fact that you were long familiar with it, you were a newcomer in the land. But it was for that you were well prepared for anything coming your way. 

Dressed in chitin cuirass, made of Barbari–Ant’s hide that you polished and remade, it consisted of a hard chestplate and backplate fastened together, leaving the limbs free and light. You killed off two of them after they lost their horde, although they’re fast, aggressive and vicious, they were no match for you. Their pincers served as tools for your use.

Walking through the local market all the eyes were directed at you, knowing you weren’t in this town yet you realized it wasn’t the best idea. “Oi look! There is another one!” – You heard one of the Frogs say, you sent him a cold glare and saw his soul almost leave his body. 

The locals stared in awe at your cuirass and knives made of stings of many unfortunate insects that crossed your road. You sighed as you heard another whisper – “This one is surely less, hm, lanky than our Anne.”. 

Remembering the town’s motto, you couldn’t really be mad. — Slow to accept, and even slower to respect. — You muttered to yourself.

Sighing, you walked into one of the shops. “Leopold Loggle’s”: The sign read, door creaked loudly as you walked in, your armor scraping against the wooden frame. Everything inside was wooden, the shopkeeper nowhere in sight. Looking around you finally spotted a light blue axolotl with dark blue gills, his mouth was almost covered with his large ashy mustache. You could tell by the looks of it that he was a rather passionate wood carver.

You walked over to him, the axolotl was rather surprised at the sight of you, gasping slightly he looked at you cautiously. 

— Can I find a weapon here? — You said, waiting for his response. 

— Of course you can… not. — He said with a pause, giving you hope for a moment.

— Do you know a good place for that then? 

— Absolutely, I do…n’t. I don’t. — He said weirdly again.

— Why do you keep doing that? — You finally asked, confused by his pattern of speech. By now he moved, standing behind his counter.

— Old smithing accident, I tripped on an anvil. Landed neck–first on a metal pipe. Pierced my voice box clean through! That’s why there is no blacksmith in Wartwood anymore. — He said, you nodded, not really disgusted by his story. Bad things happen, as a survivalist you learned how to accept them and adapt to them. — Switched to wood after that. Anyhow, I’m afraid I can’t do much for you. 

Nodding again you turned around, ready to head out. — Wait, tell me, few have made it out alive after meeting a Barbari–Ant, fewer yet collected a trophy. You seem different from the other one of ya monster ‘round here, and I haven’t seen ya here yet, you from somewhere else? 

— I’m currently resigning in the wilds near this town. — Before leaving, a sudden realization hit you. 

— What do you mean, “different from the other one”?

— I am fairly sure I’ve seen another one of ya creatures here, in Wartwood. — He said, you acknowledged the fact and nodded to him as a sign of saying goodbye. You noted his words and carried on with what you were doing.

Once outside, you left Wartwood rather quickly, skipping its main road and just heading off back to the wild woods you had your camp in.

As you came back to your resting area, you set up some traps along the way, hoping for a game to fall into them. During this time, a foreign to you girl ran through the town’s square with her best friend, Sprig, by her side. 

She couldn’t shake off a feeling that she missed something prior to now. Both of them ran into the Leopold Loggle’s. At the sight of Anne Lepold murmured to himself. — Yes, yes I knew that there were other kinds of ya ‘round here somewhere.

— Did you say something? — Sprig asked him, as for they were close enough to hear.

— Oh yeah, yeah. — He turned to Anne herself and spoke up. — Ya didn’t tell anyone there were more of you around. It stirred up the whole Wartwood just a second ago. 

Anne and Sprig looked at eachother confused, the girl quickly jumped into action asking questions, hoping it was either Marcy or Sasha, her other best friends also stuck in Amphibia. 

— What did they look like? That was probably Marcy! My friend from back home.

— Well, they had H/L that was H/C colored, they also wore Barbari–Ant armor. They were slightly taller/shorter than ya. Kinda different, really different. They were definitely stronger and more harsh looking than ya, kid. — That confused Anne, her friends were very different from the description that Loggle gave her. 

— Are you sure dude? — She said, confused.

— Of course… — They expected him to say something that fit his style but he continued. — I’m sure. They said they live in those wilds next to Wartwood, pretty dangerous if you ask me.

Both best friends looked at each other and ran out of the woodsmith’s shop. — Thanks Loggle! — They yelled behind them.

— Do you think what I am thinking? — Anne asked Sprig he nodded.

— Yeah! We gotta find that person. — He said as Anne agreed. 

Soon they came up with a plan, it only took a few minutes, they decided that Sprig will stay and deceive Hop Pop as Anne will go out and find the mysterious person. Meanwhile you were chilling by a fire you set up, laying on the soft moss, a calm moment among the dangerous wilderness. 

As Anne entered the woods after asking for directions, she was met with nothing other than light footsteps left in the mud. She stepped forward and regretted not having both shoes on. Walking cautiously she looked around, only wind accompanied her. 

Shuffling through the woods she realized she's not even sure about the person you are. Lost in thought, Anne didn’t even realize when she stepped into a trap, a handmade rope tied around her foot and pulled her up, she shrieked, now dangling in the air she realized the bad situation she landed in. 

Growing nervous she heard something inching closer. A figure soon emerged from the thick bushes, walking over to the place where rope was tied, she saw them taking out a makeshift knife. She heard a snap as she came tumbling to the ground, scrambling to get up she saw the person coming closer and taking out a hand towards her. — Uh, are you okay?

Anne froze in her place, she looked you up and down, shocked to see other human in Amphibia after all this time spent with Frogs and others. — Hello..?

— Oh my god, am I dreaming? — She said, more to herself.

— ..Sorry..? — You asked confused, blushing from the weird reaction of Anne’s, she quickly picked herself up and blushed slightly, she could swear she had seen you before, somewhere in her school and then it clicked. She knew you, Marcy and Sasha always teased her about looking at you during lunch or always stumbling on her words when she talked with you. 

— You’re Y/N, right? I’m Anne Boonchuy, we used to go to the same school before… — She mentioned everything around her. — all this happened. You don’t even know how happy I am to see another human after all this time dude! 

You observed her closely before she tackled you into a bear hug, she was right, you remembered her, vaguely, but still. You remembered how she always talked with her friends and got into trouble. After breaking apart you saw her grin at you. Then you noticed a slight gash on her forehead. — Come on. — You gestured for her to follow you, while you walked she asked you questions to which you replied quickly. 

Finally you walked back to your camp, the fire was shining and burning brightly. She gasped and started to look around, slightly flustering you. — This is where you’ve been living all this time? — She asked as you nodded, taking out a bangade and purified water you previously boiled. 

Anne sat down on the hammock you set up for you to sleep during the night. You washed off the wound and bandaged it while talking with her about everything that happened in Amphibia, comparing your experiences so far, you talked for a long time, to your surprise, you missed talking with anyone. It reminded you of the fun but short times you shared with Anne.

Maybe you can finally get closer to each other? 

You smiled at the thought and went back to talking with Anne, this encounter marking a new chapter for both of you.

[lost-dogsfrv]

Male reader x calamity trio fanfic idea.

[annievrse]

dad!sukuna!!!

—ᡣ𐭩 blurb a/n: based on this tiktok that gave me insane baby fever

the birds chirping outside in the dawn light makes your daughter giggle from where she stands in your bedroom doorway.

"baby," you whisper to her, beckoning her over to your side of the bed. "c'mere."

your 3-year-old wobbles around the bed, having gotten out of bed by herself. she stands before you with her hands out and grabs your arms.

"layla," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder at your husband, whose hair pokes out wildly from under the duvet. "tell daddy mommy wants a coffee."

your daughter's wide eyes round, and she tilts her head. "cowe?"

you suppress a giggle. "coffee."

"coppee?"

"yeah, good enough," you mumble, nodding. and then you lift her onto the bed. layla clambers over your body and falls face-first into the space between you and sukuna, her pink hair splayed everywhere.

you slap your mouth with your palm to stop the laughs from escaping. your husband stirs, groaning deeply under the white blankets. she looks over at you with a smile on her face, and you give her a single thumbs up.

"dada," layla says, climbing on top of him. "wake up!"

"hi, babygirl," sukuna slurs, eyes half open.

"i want coppee."

"hm? what?"

"coppee!"

"coffee...?" sukuna takes a moment to process the word and then looks at you over his shoulder, eyes puffy. "really, bro?"

you giggle, hiding your face in the blankets.

"you want coffee..." sukuna says, pointing at your daughter. "you go get it."

"no, mummy wants coppee! you get it!" she giggles, chubby finger aimed at him, too.

“noooo,” he whines, though it’s barely one. he shoves his face back into his pillow. “you.”

“daddy!” your daughter yells. “coppee!!”

sukuna scoffs a laugh and rubs his eye with his knuckle while your daughter dances around the room singing, "coppee, coppee!"

"you're lucky you're cute," sukuna grumbles, swinging his bare legs out of the bed, looking over at you as he does so. "you too."

[theonottsbxtch]

MISS YOU BABY | MV1

an: i need a hug from max verstappen stat, based off this request! thank you for sending it :)

summary: max thought his girlfriend was missing his final race during his triple header, little did he know she'd planned to come and visit all along.

wc 3.6k

The hotel room she was in was quiet.

She sat cross-legged on the bed in a dark hotel room that mirrored his, only three floors below, making sure he couldn’t see her surroundings. Her phone was propped up against a pillow, and Max’s face filled the screen, his hair still damp from the shower, tousled and messy. He looked worn-out but managed a small, tired smile just for her.

"I’m sorry, Max. I really tried to get time off, but there was just… no way," she said, the fib slipping from her lips with surprising ease. "I wanted to be there with you. Especially now."

Max exhaled, leaning back against his headboard. “I know. It’s alright.” His voice softened. “I just miss you, is all. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she could reach through the screen and wrap her arms around him. "You’ll get through it, though. You always do."

"Doesn’t feel that way." He laughed, but it was brittle around the edges. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. The team, the fans… you.” His eyes searched the screen, as if he might find a solution hidden somewhere in her gaze.

"Never me." She leaned closer, her face so near to the camera that she could see her reflection in his eyes. "I’m so proud of you, Max. Always. No matter what."

For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression softening, and the tension she’d seen in his face for days seemed to melt, just a little. "I wish you were here," he murmured. "I swear, you’re the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes."

She swallowed, feeling her heart pull toward him with a force that was hard to resist. "Soon, I’ll be back with you. Just… hold on a bit longer, okay?”

She gazed at his face on the screen, her heart swelling as she watched the way his eyes softened every time he looked at her. She knew he was tired and worn down, but in this moment, he looked at peace.

"I love you, Max," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

He closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him, and when he opened them again, there was a warmth there that seemed to cut through the miles between them. "I love you, too," he replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than you know."

She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling her cheeks flush, and nodded. "Get some sleep, alright? Big day tomorrow."

He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. You, too. Dream about me, okay?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes, but her heart skipped all the same. "Always. Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight, love."

With a final smile, she ended the call, letting the screen go dark as she leaned back into the pillows, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She’d hardly been able to sleep on the plane ride here, and she could already tell tonight would be the same.

Still, the thought of finally seeing him in person tomorrow kept her too giddy to care. She’d surprise him at the track, slipping through the garage just as he arrived, or maybe even at breakfast if she could manage it without spoiling the surprise. Her mind spun with ideas, each more elaborate than the last, but all she really wanted was to see his face light up when he realised she was there.

Pulling the covers up to her chin, she let her eyes drift closed, replaying the moment over and over in her mind, savouring the thought of his reaction. She loved him fiercely, and she knew that being here—no matter how much of a secret she’d had to make it—was exactly where she was supposed to be.

As she finally began to drift off, her last thought was simple but bright, shining like a promise: Tomorrow, he’ll know.

And while she was glad she held onto the secret.

The following morning she wished she’d told him earlier.

She woke to the faint glow of her phone on the nightstand, her morning alarm. Blinking herself awake, she squinted at the screen and saw Max’s name, followed by the time—5:02 a.m.

Heading to the track early today. Miss you already, wish you were here.

She smiled, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her chest. But then her heart sank a little. She’d been hoping to catch him in the hotel this morning, maybe surprise him over breakfast. Now, with him already gone, she'd have to adjust her plans.

Throwing back the covers, she got up and went to the window. Rain streaked down the glass in thick, heavy drops, and the sky was a murky grey. The weather was only supposed to get worse throughout the day; she knew that’d make things complicated, especially for an outdoor track. She had no clue if her surprise would even be worth the stress of navigating the drenched, crowded paddock.

After a moment’s hesitation, she tapped her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she reached the name she wanted. She dialled, and after a few rings, Max’s assistant, Sophie, picked up.

“Hey!” Sophie greeted, sounding pleasantly surprised. “What’s up? Did you make it in?”

“Yes, I’m here!” she whispered, unable to contain her excitement. “I wanted to surprise him before he heads out on track, but with this rain… do you think I should even bother?”

Sophie sighed sympathetically. “Honestly, it’s a mess out here. They’re saying the rain’s going to be even heavier by the time qualifying starts. He’ll be in back-to-back meetings until then, and I’d hate for you to sit in the rain, just to get a few minutes with him.”

She nodded, glancing out the window at the sheets of rain. “So you think I should wait?”

“I’d say hold off until right before the race,” Sophie replied. “He’ll have a short break, and I think he’d love the surprise then. Plus, everyone’s less frantic between qualifying and race prep.”

“Good point,” she agreed, a little disappointed but knowing Sophie was right. The track on a rainy race day was chaos, and if she could avoid it until the right moment, she’d have a better chance of actually spending time with him. “Thanks, Sophie. Let me know if anything changes?”

“Will do! He’ll be so happy to see you,” Sophie said warmly. “Hang tight, okay?”

As she hung up, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement, knowing the surprise would be even more perfect with the wait. So she ordered herself a coffee, sat by the window, and watched the rain pour down, imagining the look on Max’s face when he’d finally see her just before the most important race of the weekend.

The rain hadn’t let up by the time she arrived at the track, the skies dark and moody, the air thick with humidity. She’d navigated her way through security and weaving lines of drenched fans, her heart racing as she got closer to Max’s garage. But by the time she finally made it, he was already in the car, helmet on, visor down, his focus entirely on the track ahead.

Her heart sank a little as she scanned the bustling garage, hoping for some last chance to catch his eye. But he was already strapped in, a crew member leaning in to give him a final check before he rolled out. She spotted Sophie in the corner, scribbling something down on a clipboard, and made her way over to her.

“Hey,” she whispered, feeling the dampness of the rain still clinging to her hair and clothes. “I… I just missed him, didn’t I?”

Sophie looked up and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, he was swamped the moment he got here. They barely had time to get him settled with all the delays.” She gestured to the grid display above them, where Max’s name glowed beside the stark “P17” position. “Rough start, but he’ll be glad to know you’re here.”

She nodded, feeling a pang as she glanced at his car just as it rumbled to life. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, even from a distance she could see the tension there. She let out a breath, feeling a swell of pride and worry all at once. “Well, I’ll be here watching, then.”

Sophie handed her a headset, which she slipped on just in time to hear his engineer’s voice crackle through with the first instructions as they prepared for the start. The rain was relentless, turning the track into a slick, treacherous maze, and she felt her stomach twist as the cars peeled out onto the track for the formation lap. Max’s car trailed near the back, but she knew he’d fight, as he always did, with a ferocity she both admired and feared in moments like this.

The race began, a chaotic blur of spray and metal, the cars kicking up rooster tails of water, visibility nearly zero as they fought for position. She gripped the edge of her seat as the laps ticked by, heart pounding with every close call. It quickly became clear that the conditions were only worsening, drivers struggling to keep their cars on track, a few even skidding off into barriers with loud, bone-jarring crashes. Her hands tightened around the headset as Max navigate his way forward, battling his way to P10, then P6.

And then, just when the tension seemed to reach its peak, there was a deafening crash, followed by a sudden hush as the red flag went up, halting the race.

Her breath caught in her throat. The screen above replayed the incident—a skidding into the barrier that had caused an emergency stop. The seconds felt like hours as she waited, desperately searching for a glimpse of his car on the feed. Finally, there it was, intact, safe. Relief flooded her, and she felt her shoulders sag.

The race restarted after the delay, and she watched in awe as Max took advantage of the reshuffled positions and tire changes, surging forward with a newfound intensity. Lap by lap, he clawed his way through the field, passing car after car with a precision that made her heart race. It was as if he’d transformed, harnessing every ounce of his frustration from the last few races, channelling it into something extraordinary.

The garage erupted in cheers as he moved into P3, then P1. She stared at the screen, hardly daring to blink, her heart racing as he crossed the finish line in first place, drenched in rain and glory.

She could hardly believe it. From P17 to P1. He’d done it.

Forgetting herself, she laughed, a sound of pure joy, her heart swelling as she watched him slow down, the victory finally sinking in. She couldn't wait to see his face when he finally realised she was here, to be the first person he’d see when he stepped out of that car, soaked and grinning, finally at the top.

Ripping her headset off, she followed the crew as they ran out to parc fermé, her heart racing as fast as the roar of the crowd. The team, buzzing with excitement, parted slightly as she joined them, nudging her to the front so she’d be the first face he saw. She could barely breathe as she caught sight of Max’s car, now still, the rain glistening on its blue-and-red bodywork.

With all the force he had he climbed out, pulling off his helmet to reveal damp, messy hair and a face lit up with exhilaration and disbelief. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the shouts of the crowd and the blinding flashes of cameras. And then, his gaze landed on her.

His eyes widened, his exhaustion and surprise giving way to pure joy. Without hesitation, he broke into a run, crossing the slick tarmac with the kind of speed and determination that made her heart leap. She barely had a second to react before he wrapped her in his arms, his lips crashing against hers as he pulled her close, his hands pressed firmly against her back, as if he still couldn’t believe she was real.

“You came,” he murmured breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at her, his face filled with awe and happiness.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she replied, her voice trembling with emotion, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face.

He smiled, a bright, unguarded smile that melted her heart. “God, I needed this. I needed you.”

And then he kissed her again, a kiss filled with all the missed moments and the words they hadn’t been able to say, the thrill of his victory mingling with the fierce love they shared. She felt the rain soak through her clothes, the crowd and the noise around them fading as they held each other, his arms wrapping around her as if he could protect her from the rest of the world.

“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered against her lips, his forehead resting against hers, his hand gently brushing her cheek. “P1. And you’re here.”

She laughed softly, her eyes shining. “You deserve it, Max. I knew you could do it.”

He held her close, a triumphant laugh bubbling from his chest as he buried his face in her neck, and they stood there in the pouring rain, lost in each other, savouring the victory and this long-awaited moment they both knew they’d never forget.

As the noise of the cheering crew and fans started to swell around them, Max pulled back slightly, brushing his thumb across her cheek, his gaze lingering on her face as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory.

“I have to go,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “The interviews, cool-down room, podium… but wait for me? I’ll meet you in my driver’s room as soon as I can.”

She nodded, understanding but already missing the warmth of his arms. “I’ll be waiting. Go,” she whispered, giving him a small smile. “Enjoy every second—you deserve it.”

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her forehead, then turned and jogged off to join the waiting crew, helmet in hand, while she stayed rooted to her spot, watching him disappear into the crowd. Her heart swelled with pride as she trailed after the team to watch his interviews, his beaming, breathless face glowing with pride and energy as he spoke about the gruelling conditions and the unbelievable climb from P17 to P1.

Then came the cool-down room, where she watched from the sidelines as he bantered with the other drivers, sharing exhausted smiles and congratulatory claps on the back, the weight of his achievement settling in as he finally let himself relax a little. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling as though she could burst with joy just watching him, his eyes sparking with energy even as he looked ready to collapse from exhaustion.

And finally, the podium. She felt the crowd’s excitement echo through her as she looked up to see him standing tall, drenched from head to toe, a bottle of champagne in hand. When he raised it in victory, the crowd erupted, and she joined them, cheering at the top of her lungs as he sprayed champagne with abandon, laughing as he celebrated with the other drivers. His eyes swept over the crowd, and when they found hers, he gave a subtle nod, a silent promise that he’d be back with her soon.

After the podium, she made her way to his driver’s room, her heart fluttering as she paced the small space, the thrill of the day lingering in every fibre of her being. And then, finally, the door swung open, and there he was.

He looked completely worn out, his hair still damp and messy, his fireproof undersuit clinging to his skin. But his smile was bright, and his eyes lit up the moment he saw her.

Without a word, he crossed the room, pulling her into his arms, his lips finding hers in a soft, exhausted kiss. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her close, the adrenaline and joy from his victory radiating between them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” he whispered against her ear, his voice low and hoarse. “Winning today… and having you here with me. It’s everything.”

She brushed a strand of damp hair from his face, smiling as she traced her fingers along his cheek. “You did it, Max. I’m so proud of you.”

He took her hand, pressing it to his heart, his eyes never leaving hers. “None of it would mean anything without you,” he said quietly, his voice steady.

She felt her eyes sting with tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always be here.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world slipping away. He stroked her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, as if savouring each moment.

“Let’s get out of here,” he finally murmured, his voice warm and soft, “celebrate somewhere a little less chaotic.”

She laughed, nodding. “Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

They headed back to his hotel, hand in hand, a peaceful quiet settling over them as they left the track behind. Once in the privacy of his suite, he gave her a lingering kiss, then smiled, nodding toward the bathroom. “Give me a few minutes to wash off all the champagne and… probably half the track dust,” he said with a laugh.

She grinned, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the suite a moment later. While he showered, she took the opportunity to pack up her things from her own room, gathering her scattered belongings quickly. The thrill of being close, of finally sharing a space for the night, filled her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical heat outside.

By the time she returned, he was out of the shower, towelling off his damp hair, his expression softening as he took in the sight of her standing there with her things. Without a word, he crossed the room and took her bags from her hands, setting them by the closet as he gave her a smile that made her heart skip.

Once they’d both changed into fresh clothes—she’d opted for a simple dress, and he in casual jeans and a loose shirt—they slipped out of the hotel through a side exit, making their way to a tiny, tucked-away Brazilian restaurant that had been recommended. The place was hidden, small enough to be missed by the crowds, with soft, low lighting that created an intimate, cosy atmosphere. A few locals lingered around tables, but they paid little attention to the couple as they took a corner table in the back.

They ordered caipirinhas and he reached across the table to hold her hand, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin as they laughed over silly little things, shared stories from the past few weeks, and spoke of things beyond racing, beyond work, just slipping back into the easy flow they always shared. The food was rich and delicious—small plates of feijoada, grilled meats, and pão de queijo—everything flavorful and homey.

He leaned across the table, his eyes warm and filled with that familiar spark, as he watched her speak, clearly savouring every moment. “You know,” he said softly, “I think this is the best victory celebration I’ve ever had.”

She squeezed his hand, smiling back at him. “Same here. I missed just… being with you like this.”

They stayed until the restaurant closed, lingering over the last bites of dessert, letting the night stretch out as long as possible. Eventually, they headed back to the hotel, the city streets now quiet and still beneath the soft hum of streetlights.

Once back in his room, Max changed into a pair of soft pyjama bottoms, leaving his chest bare, his skin still warm from the shower. She slipped into one of his t-shirts, the fabric soft and oversized, the scent of him comforting and familiar. When she stepped out the bathroom, he was already waiting for her by the bed, his gaze softening as he took her in, a gentle smile curving on his lips.

Without a word, he reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her close, guiding her to the bed. She sank into the mattress beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against his chest, his fingertips trailing absently over her shoulder. She nestled into him, feeling his warmth seep through her, a cosy silence wrapping around them.

They lay there, tangled together, her head tucked beneath his chin as he gently traced circles on her back, his breath even and steady. He tilted her chin up, his eyes searching hers for a quiet moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, filled with a tenderness that said everything words couldn’t. She kissed him back just as gently, savouring the intimacy of being close like this, the world beyond these walls feeling miles away.

When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead to hers, a soft sigh escaping as he held her close, one hand settling over hers, fingers intertwined. They stayed that way, her head resting against his heartbeat, lulled by the steady rhythm.

Finally, they drifted off, still tangled in each other’s arms, wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of just being together. As the night settled around them, Max couldn’t help but smile, holding her a little closer as he slipped into sleep, his heart full and light.

Max couldn’t have wished for a better weekend.

the end.

[sinsmockingbird]

PTN WOMEN AS PARENTS PT. 2 | Various

PAIRING: Anne x Afab!Reader, Cabernet x Afab!Reader, Coquelic x Afab!Reader, Garofano x Afab!Reader, Shalom x Afab!Reader.

WARNINGS: Fluff, SFW, Children, LMK if there's anything else!

AUTHORS NOTE: Here's part 2! I'm definitely making this a mini series and I'm gonna try to write a part for each PTN women (that I write for). Once again dedicated to the lovely @prisoner-of-sin.

✧ ANNE

• Anne is one of the most caring mothers, truly putting her childrens needs before hers regarding anything. Nothing is more important to her than making sure your kids have a happy childhood.

• It's common thing for Anne to call you and your kids during the day if she's away as a medic on a mission or is swarmed with caring for the injured at the Bureau.

• She hates being away from you and your kids for too long, an aching to have you and them in her arms a constant loom over her. So when she finally gets home, be prepared for her to shower you all in love and affection.

• She loves to have your kids in her arms, having them wrapped up and secured -- especially when they're babies. She doesn't like to be separated from them for too long when they're so fragile at that age.

• People would say Anne is quite a clingy mother, and while that is true, she can't help but want to always have your kids by her side. It's definitely gonna be tough for her to let them go when their old enough.

• She loves to look through your kids baby photos and she loves to take them. She almost always is taking photos of your kids because she wants to try and capture every moment of their life.

• No matter what path your kids end up taking when their older, Anne is always going to love them unconditionally, and she's always going to hold on to them in some sort of way, because no matter she won't be ready for when they leave the nest.

✧ CABERNET

• Cabernet is quite a fun loving mother. She values having fun with her kids and pushing them to always have fun themselves. She cares for them deeply and does everything in her power to give them a good life.

• Be prepared for Cabernet to turn your children into mini food critiques -- specifically critiques on the food you make. It's adorable at first when your children taste test your food, but it can be a little annoying after awhile when all they give you are negative reviews.

• Cabernet doesn't quite have the guts to tell you herself if the food you make for dinner is... unappetizing to her. Because of this, she'll usually send one of your kids to taste test your food, leave and report back to her on how it tastes and then send them back to critique you.

• You learned pretty quickly what she was doing, and each time she'd continue doing it, you'd hold a blank face, eyes glancing at the entry to the kitchen with a glare as you watched her quickly dip her head around the corner.

• Despite the whole thing being a headache to you, you can't help but find it amusing on how she uses your kids to critique the food you make. It brings a smile to your face when you think about how Cabernet doesn't have the balls to tell you herself.

• Something Cabernet loves to do with your children is cook. She doesn't do it often, but when she does, she's sure to turn your kitchen into a full on cooking show as she had your kids running around helping her make things.

• It's adorable, because they all wear matching aprons and chef hats, matching as they make an unintentional mess of the kitchen. Once they finish, prepare for the kitchen to look like a hurricane swept through.

✧ COQUELIC

• Coquelic is a great balance for a mom. She can be stern yet supportive. She pushes her kids to pursue what they want to do in life, while still pushing them towards her own interests.

• She tries her best to get your guys children interested in gardening, or at least have them understand the beauty of plants. If one of your children is interested, she's over the moon with happiness! Sharing something in common that she loves with her child is a gift she cherishes.

• If one of her kids isn't as interested in gardening or plants, Coquelic is alright with that. She doesn't want to be the type of mom that pushes her interests on her kids, she wants them to love what they love, she only wants them to try her interest out once and see why she loves it.

• Coquelic will raise your children within the Garden -- with your approval -- and something that comes with that is your children having many aunts. The assassins in the Garden care for your children as much as you both do, watching out for them whenever you both can't.

• Something she'll do is teach your children srlf defense from a young age. She wants your kids to be able to defend themselves in situations where you both won't be there to protect them. It gives her peace to know her kids can defend themselves.

• Be prepared for your children to be miniature Coquelic's. For some reason your kids just have her personality, and the older they get the more that becomes apparent.

• Something that will happen often to you is being on the end one of your children's "pranks," something that Coquelic will have a hand in helping them with.

✧ GAROFANO

• Garofano, despite her older age, has always wanted to have children of her own. She may be older, but that isn't gonna push her away from wanting and having kids with you.

• When you do finally welcome your first child into the world, know Garofano is going to treat them so gently and delicately, holding them as if they could break at any moment.

• She loves sitting back in a chair, with one of your kids in her arms or sitting in her lap. She'll be reading a book or sewing/stitching up something for them while they read or play with their toys.

• When they're a bit older, she'll want to teach them how to sew. Whether they're interested or not, she wants thdm to have the skill, so she'll sit them down and take delicate time in teaching them everything, helping them whenever they get stuck.

• She also adores making your kids their own clothes. You can commonly find Garofano sitting in her sewing room making a new sweater or scarf for your kids, the look of pure love swirling in her eyes as she works.

• Because of her older age, it's common for her to get tired quite easily when your kids decide to be more rowdy. If she has to run around the house to catch one of them, expect her to collapse into a chair to try and catch her breath quite a few times.

• Though just because Garofano can get quite tired when your kids get a little crazy, she doesn't regret having kids with you for one second. This was the best decision she ever made after all.

✧ SHALOM

• Shalom -- despite being a horrible and downright evil woman -- is an amazing mother. She's tender and loving to each one of your kids, prioritizing them no matter what.

• She takes great care in teaching her kids all about the world, from the good to the bad. She doesn't like glossing over the horrible things life holds, because she wants her kids to be know and be prepared for anything.

• When they're older, she'll be more direct about the bad. She won't do what she did when they were young and put it into a fantasy scenario. No, she'll tell them what the world holds, and sometimes will even show them.

• Besides preparing her children for the real world, Shalom loves spending some quality time with each of them. She'll take time out of her day to sit down and do what they want to do.

• If they want to have a tea party, Shalom is going to be sitting at their little table, holding perfect manners and taking their play time seriously as they pour her "real" tea.

• If for some reason she's gone during the day to deal with... matters, she's going to try her hardest to be home for your kids bedtime. She'll arrive home just in time as your tucking them in, and she'll be grabbing a book to read to them before they sleep.

• Because of what she does Shalom's made plenty of enemies in her life, and she's always prepared for one to go after her family. If someone does though, you better know they aren't getting away with it -- she's going to make sure they suffer and use them as a warning to everyone else.

ENDING NOTES: Ugh, this is so fun to write! I may love writing smut more than fluff, I can't help but enjoy the times I do write it. Especially now when I'm writing very degenerate smut for December. Anyway, lmk which women you'd like to see in PT. 3.

[janeyseymour]

Accidentally In Love

Summary: sometimes you and melissa joke that you're 'wives'. somewhere along the line, it's not a joke anymore.

WC: 3.35k

If there’s one thing that you love about working at Abbott Elementary, it’s your coworkers. Of course, the children are wonderful no matter where you would’ve ended up, but your coworkers can make or break the work day for you. And this quirky, rundown school, with a ragtag group of teachers that have quickly made their way into your heart, has the best team that you could ask for. While all of the teachers are supportive for the most part, you have found yourself in that exclusive little friend group that has agreed to be part of a documentary on the Philadelphia public school system.

Janine Teagues, Gregory Eddie, Jacob Hill, Barbara Howard, Mr. Johnson (you realize far too late into the friendship that you genuinely don’t have the slightest clue what his first name is), Principal Ava Coleman, and… perhaps your favorite one: Melissa Schemmenti. 

All of your friends are wonderful in their own ways, but the redhead has a special place in your heart. It’s been made known to you that the second grade teacher is usually rough around the edges, but since your appearance she’s softened significantly.

It’s been a couple of years since you’ve joined the second grade team, and at this point, it’s odd to see you or Melissa on your own. It seems that the two of you are always together and close whenever possible at school.

And that… that might be your doing. You’re hopelessly in love with the woman who took you under her wing and helped you succeed in this less affluent community. You soak up any time that you can get with her, and it’s clear to you that she doesn’t mind in the slightest. If you don’t seek her out, she meanders her way down to your classroom to sit with you while you grade. It’s always like the calm amidst the chaos that is always happening at the school.

There’s something warm and comforting about the two of you being in a room together. There are times where the silence that comes over the two of you is more than comfortable- just sitting together in peace while you grade student work. And then there are times where the two of you chat about what’s happening at the Abbott. And then of course, there are the conversations that take place surrounding real life things- like now.

You had just received an email from your landlord that your rent was going up a significant amount- enough that you wouldn’t necessarily be sitting comfortably anymore. You groan quietly and lay your head down on your desk.

“What is it?” Melissa asks you. “A kid fail? Was it Kimiyah?”

You shake your head softly before turning your laptop to face the redhead. “From my landlord.”

The woman looks through her glasses to skim over the email that you had just received. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you sigh quietly. “This- this could break me.”

“So move in with me,” your colleague suggests casually.

You turn to face her, eyes drifting from the papers in front of you to those green eyes. “What?”

“I have an extra room, and I could use a roommate again since Jacob moved out,” the redhead shrugs. When you only continue to look at her strangely, she sighs. “You can move into my nice house with me, or you can go find some slum where you’re paying a ridiculous amount of money to hate your home. Your choice.”

“I-” you smile softly. “I’ll move in with you.”

“Good choice,” Melissa tells you as she sets a gentle hand on your knee. “We can start moving stuff in this weekend.”

You technically still have your apartment for another month, but almost all of your things are out and moved into the Schemmenti household.

“Just move in early,” your coworker tells you at lunch that day. “It’s not like you’re paying rent.”

“I already told you, I’d pay rent,” you argue back.

“You’re not payin’ me nothin, hun,” Melissa tells you sternly.

At the table beside you, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory all smile to themselves. It’s so nice to see the two of you happy and together.

You end up going to Melissa’s house (your house too, you guess) that night.

“You’ve been here before,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “You know the deal with everything.”

You just nod and smile at the kitchen counter while she cooks. And damn, is it a good meal. Of course, because she cooks, that means you clean. She never lingers far from sight though- mostly perching herself at the island with a glass of wine, watching to make sure you do it right. You do. Of course you do.

The two of you settle on the couch with your respective drinks and sigh with content.

“This is nice,” you mumble as you maneuver it so that your legs are tucked under you.

Melissa hums her agreement. “To a new chapter in life.” She raises her glass slightly, and you have to lean over just a little to clink your mug with her glass. 

The weekend passes nicely and calmly. There is one hitch in your morning though. You had never thought that Melissa could look more beautiful than she does at work, but it turns out that she’s incredibly stunning as she comes down the steps from a night’s rest. You find that her natural beauty is something that draws you in much more than you thought it could.

You and your new roommate go grocery shopping together, finding that it’s easier to do such a tedious errand together. You lounge around for the rest of that Saturday, and on Sunday, you help her prep meals for lunch. You find that you’re quite excited to not be resigned to boring sandwiches and salads anymore. 

Come Monday, Melissa insists on driving to work, and she’s bringing you along with her.

“Why would we drive separately?” she raises a brow. “Save gas, and save the planet.”

“I see Jacob influenced you,” you smirk.

“Shut up.” Green eyes are rolled.

“You love me,” you tease her.

“You’re lucky.”

You can only give your coworker and roommate an innocent smile.

“You want coffee?” Melissa tosses over her shoulder as you go to the refrigerator to put your lunches away.

“Please,” you chuckle weakly before sitting in your designated spot.

By the time the redhead is bringing over two mugs of coffee, the staff room has filled up significantly.

Jacob watches as his former roommate sets the cup of coffee down in front of you. And then he watches the way that you look up from the papers that you’re grading to smile warmly at the redhead.

“Thank you.” There’s something about the look in your eyes that makes the social studies teacher’s heart warm.

As the two of you get used to living with each other, life becomes quite domestic. There’s a natural flow and easiness that follows the two of you. There’s rarely a disagreement, and when there is, it’s resolved quickly- the two of you have come to realize that it’s you two against the world.

On work days, the two of you carpool- almost exclusively in her car. She’ll tease you and tell you that you’re her passenger princess. It gets you to roll your eyes each and every time. You eat the lunches that she preps for you, not caring in the slightest that you get teased for taking advantage of her cooking. And when you head home, both of you make dinner before settling on the couch to get some work done as the television drones on softly in the background. It’s not uncommon for one or both of you to doze off on the couch once you’ve given up with grading and preparation for the days to come, curling up into the other’s side with a soft hum.

And on weekends, it’s just as domestic- if not more so. There’s warm mornings with breakfast, joint grocery shopping, lazy days, times at church together, even a few Schemmenti family dinners that you’re invited to.

It’s gotten to a point where the two of you have been living together for quite some time, and at this point, you joke that you’re wives. You really are in all ways- aside from the fact that you aren’t in a relationship. It’s almost like a common law marriage at this point. You’ve been referring to her as your “wife” for a while now, you live together, and neither of you really has the intention to stop living together any time soon. The only thing that doesn’t make your common law marriage official is the fact that you aren’t actually together romantically- at least not on both ends of the relationship.

You’re somehow more in love with the redhead than you were when you first started. And unbeknownst to you, Melissa has only fallen further in love with your than she ever thought possible. But because neither of you want to ruin what you have going for you, you stay quiet. You keep your thoughts on the matter to yourself and mask those emotions through jokes. She does the same. 

Your coworkers know that the two of you are practically inseparable- you’ve even managed to edge your way past Barbara. It’s not that she minds though; now she’s more available to Gerald.

Today though, after work, Melissa is supposed to go out with Barbara. And at lunch, the kindergarten teacher has to tell her colleague that she’s unable to follow through with their plans.

“I’m so sorry dear,” Barbara sighs softly. “It entirely slipped my mind that Gerald has an appointment that I have to pick him up from.”

The second grade teacher shrugs.

“But I’m sure it will give you some more of that quality time with your wife,” the veteran teacher smiles.

“My wife?” Melissa raises her brow. “What do you mean ‘my wife’?”

“Y/N,” Barbara says casually. “Haven’t the two of you been married for like… three years now? Together for five?”

That gets you to pause the conversation that you’re currently participating in with Gregory and Janine and turn to face both older teachers.

“No?” Melissa states, although it sounds much more like a question.

“But you call her your wife!” Jacob cuts in, and he points his finger accusatorially.

Green eyes look to you, and there’s a hint of mischief in them. But then when she turns back to your coworkers, she realizes that they all think the two of you were being serious- Barbara Howard included. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god,” you echo softly.

“They- they really think we’re together,” Melissa nudges you. “I- Youse are… raise your hand if you thought that we were together romantically.”

Immediately, everyone’s hand goes up. Panic filled eyes look to you. “Oh my god, have we been dating, and I didn’t know it?”

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that erupts out of you as you lay a gentle hand over the redhead’s. “I mean, no, but the way we act sometimes… I see why people think that we are.”

“You two really are so… loving with each other,” Janine sighs dreamily. “It’s honestly relationship goals.”

“What do you-”

“Melissa, you call her your wife!” Barbara exclaims with gusto. “It would make sense for us to assume that the two of you are married!”

“Barb, if I got married while we worked here, you damn well know that you would’ve been invited to the wedding… probably would’ve been my matron of honor,” the redhead deadpans.

The kindergarten teacher takes that information, clearly touched, before nodding. “I suppose that would make sense.”

“So we all lost the bet,” Ava sighs heavily.

“A bet?” you raise a brow at the principal.

Melissa whips around to look at the boss, who looks as uninterested as ever as she files her nails.

“The bet that we all made about how long the two of you have actually been together,” Mr. Johnson states from the corner of the staff room. “No one bet that you weren’t actually together.”

“So what are we supposed to do with the-”

“Barbara,” Melissa admonishes. “You bet on my love life?”

The eldest teacher just shrugs innocently. “I thought it was a slam dunk, as the kids would say.”

“Donate the money to the school,” you roll your eyes as you begin to pack up your lunch. “I have to prep my science lesson, so I’ll see you guys later.” You gently pat Melissa’s shoulder as you thank her for lunch quietly, and head out.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the redhead grumbles as she too begins to pack up her lunch. “I’m gonna go help my wi- my friend.”

“You was gonna say wife, girl!” Ava calls as Melissa leaves the room. “Just admit it so I can win my money!” 

Neither of you say anything in terms of the conversation that had taken place at lunch- not at work, at least. And you both end up throwing yourselves into work- not bothering to look at your phones throughout the afternoon. Had you, the two of you would see an abundance of apologies from your fellow staff members. Well, every staff member aside from your boss. Ava is asking both of you to lie for her to be able to win the bet; apparently she had a lot riding on it. 

The only time that either of you speak of it is once you’re in the comfort of her car. You hazard a glance at your phone, as does Melissa.

“Oh Jesus,” your roommate groans. She sees the face that you’re making as you stare at your phone. “They texted you too?”

You nod. “You got Ava’s text?”

“I’ll yell at her tomorrow,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she sets her phone down and pulls the car out of the lot.

Instinctively, the woman driving the car lays her hand gently over the gear shift, and your hand rests over top of it. And then you sigh softly.

But still, neither of you speak of what’s on your mind in regard to the situation.

Your evening plans go as they usually do. It’s only when you curl up on the couch together, not having any work to catch up on, that you know you have to talk to her about what’s going through your head.

“Lis?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think… I don’t know. I think maybe we should talk about what happened at work today,” you bite the bullet.

“Probably,” the redhead next to you sighs softly.

“What do you think about the situation?”

Your roommate bites her lip as she thinks. “I- I mean, we are practically married anyway.” You just nod silently and urge her to go on. “If we did get married…” You feel your heart flutter. Is this the moment that she’s going to tell you that she is in love with you? 

“… we would get a nice tax break.”

You do everything you can to not let it show how you feel about that proposal. “Uh, yeah. We could do that. We’re essentially in a common law marriage at this point anyway.”

“But I also…” the redhead continues to worry her lip through her teeth. “I guess I have been thinking about what they were saying.”

“What do you mean?” you prompt.

Green eyes turn soft as they look into your own. “I think that maybe… in all of the ebbs and flows of life, jokingly calling you my wife, it- it stopped becoming a joke.”

Your heart begins to beat faster. It’s now or never. “For me too.”

A brow raises. “What?”

“It’s not a joke for me anymore either,” you whisper. “Somewhere along the line, I really did fall for you.”

“Have we been dating for the last five years without knowing it?” Melissa asks you as she gently cups your cheek.

“I think so,” you chuckle.

And then, just like in the movies, the woman of your dreams leans in slowly and her lips meet yours for the first time.

When you pull away, your eyes shimmer with happy tears. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Me too, hun,” Melissa whispers as she pulls you back in again.

It’s later that night, once the two of you have truly spoken about how you want to go about this new relationship that you’ve found yourselves in.

“So, if we’ve been unintentionally dating for the last five years, how would you really feel about getting married? Not just for the tax break,” Melissa asks you. “Although, that would be nice.”

You just roll your eyes. “Melissa Schemmenti, are you proposing to me right now?”

“Do you want me to?”

And so, the next day, the two of you make your way down to City Hall to file for a marriage license before heading into Abbott to work your half day. During your prep period, the two of you search for wedding bands on Amazon to be delivered in time for Saturday when you’ll officially be wed.

On Friday, you and your fiancee request that Barbara come to Melissa’s room at the end of the day. Of course, she complies.

“What’s this about?” the kindergarten teacher asks.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” you ask your coworker.

“Why? What’s happening tomorrow?”

“We were hoping you would come be the witness at our wedding,” Melissa states casually.

Brown eyes are blown as wide as saucers. “I- Oh! Oh my goodness! Are you serious?”

“You know I wouldn’t joke about a nice tax break,” the redhead smirks.

“Still don’t like that joke,” you roll your eyes as you lean over, a hand resting on Melissa’s shoulder as you kiss her cheek.

“So the two of you have been together!”

“No,” you laugh. “We only got together Tuesday after we both realized that maybe calling each other our ‘wife’ wasn’t a joke anymore.”

“An’ if we’ve been dating for the last five years, we might as well get married,” Melissa smiles.

“And catch that tax break,” you chuckle.

Your fiancee glares at you playfully. “I thought you hate that joke.”

“Only when you make it,” you reply sweetly before turning back to Barbara. “So, can you come?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” your beloved coworker promises you.

On Monday, you wait for your entire work family to make their way into the staff lounge.

“So,” you sigh as you glance to your boss.

“What the hell could you want on a Monday morning?” Ava groans.

“Not much,” you chuckle, your left hand still stuffed in your Eagles sweatshirt. “Just going to need a sign change.”

“A sign change?”

“The sign outside my door with my name on it. I’m gonna need it changed.”

“To?” the principal rolls her eyes, not yet putting it together.

“Mrs. Schemmenti,” you say innocently as you hold up your left hand. Your now wife does the same.

Both you and Melissa look around the room anticipating your coworkers’ reactions. And they’re exactly what you expect- it’s hilarious. And as the excitement of this news dies down, Jacob raises his hand to ask a question.

“You don’ need to raise your hand, Hill,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “What?”

“So who won the bet?”

“Yeah!” Mr. Johnson exclaims.

“Still no one,” you run a hand over your face.

“There ain’t no way the two of you haven’t been hiding this for years,” Ava tells you.

“We haven’t been,” Melissa tells the group. “Ask Barb.”

All eyes turn to the kindergarten teacher quietly sipping her coffee. “Got married on Saturday. I was there, just like Melissa said I would be.”

“See?”

“But,” Barbara holds a hand up. “While I was incorrect about the amount of time they’ve been married, I am the only one that said they were together for five years.”

“We haven’t been together for five years,” you furrow a brow.

Barb shrugs. “You both told me that the two of you have been essentially dating for the last five years.”

“Barbara.”

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @schmentisgf

[nian-7]

hiiii! i love your works so much!! may I request headcanons for anne (paradox live) with f!reader about how them having a crush and what dating them would be like? (if it's too much, just the dating part is totally fine)

hi!! of course you can! i had more ideas for just dating but enjoy!

Anne Faulkner x fem!reader

✧dating hcs

✧fluff

-Anne would love to paint your nails and do your makeup all the time. If you let them, of course. It'll always be something different and unique, always leaving you shocked by their near perfect handiwork.

-Lots and lots of shopping dates! You both regularly go out to the mall and find new clothes and always make a fun date out of it. Sometimes tacking on challenges you've seen on the internet to find each other outfits too.

-They always tease you, specifically about how cute/pretty you are and how they can't seem to get you out of their head because of said cuteness.

-Skincare together? Obviously! They always love to do their skincare with you whenever you're able to stay up late enough to do it with them when they get home from Club Candy.

-Speaking of staying up late, they love to hear your sleepy rambles. Whenever you try to stay up to wait for them to get home, they always look forward to hearing what sort of rambling you'll go off on whether it be about your new favorite show or just a vent you needed to get off your chest.

-Loves to cover your face with lipstick marks and enjoys it when you do the same to them. Whenever Anne comes home late and tipsy, they can't help but feel the need to cover your sleeping face in pink lipstick marks. Hajun finds it amusing when you wake up in the morning with pink lipstick smudged on your face and teases you about it.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[anika-ann]

The (Un)Expected - S.R.

Type: one-shot, soulmate AU, good ol' meet-cute (soulmates meeting for the first time prompt)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 8k

Summary: 

A soulmark shows the first words your soulmate will speak to you. A soulmark tells you there is the person for you out there. A soulmark tells you what to expect.

For that, Steve’s is a source of comfort and anxiety to him. You always had a complicated relationship with yours.

But maybe they will teach you a lesson in the end – that the only thing one should really expect, is the unexpected.

Warnings: brief angst, mention of cancer (not reader), canon-typical violence, mention of death (no major character), blood and injuries, language, FLUFF so take it easy on sugar before reading

A/N: written for the Community Revival Extravaganza hosted by the wonderful @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 . Thank you both so much for hosting and stirring life in the fandom! I loved seeing the traffic and positivity on my dash - you're doing god's work 💕

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰

Steve Rogers was a sickly child.

He spent too much time to his liking in his bed – and even more time outside of it despite feeling sick for he couldn’t bear resting anymore, craving to explore the world instead – and was sneaked into a doctor’s office by his mother quite often as well. She only got him in as a favour, courtesy of her own good name – a nurse working double shifts and lending a helping hand wherever she could, a single mother working herself to a bone to take care of and set example to her only son.

A single mother, a nurse, a good person – a beautiful soul. She left this world too soon, but she left an imprint on Steve’s heart larger than any other person, perhaps besides Bucky, ever could.

All that told him, even as indirectly, that his soulmate would be one special dame. She would be kind, she would be brilliant and for that alone, he knew she would be beautiful.

Steve knew that as soon as he could read, as soon as he could decipher the words on his skinny forearm.

In a world where first words your soulmate would tell you were laced into your skin for you and your soulmate’s eyes to see only, his words told him his soulmate was a little miracle.

'I’m not a doctor yet.'

Steve had spent a fair amount of time around nurses and doctors to know that all nurses were women and the overwhelming majority of doctors were men – by the time he was ten, barely a few women were allowed to attend medical schools, let alone graduate. But you, you would be on your way to reach that. Brilliant. Driven. Desiring to help people, to heal.

It was only when other children, other guys and girls alike, began laughing at him for being too little, too weak, too bony, when his heart began to ache for a different reason than illness. If you were to be all these amazing things he had dreamed of, what were you to do with a sickly fella like him? With your words to him being these, it was a fair assumption to make that you would meet due to his health issues, perhaps a smart dame taken under a more experienced doctor’s wing during your studies. How disappointed you would be when your soulmate, the one person meant for you and chosen by destiny itself, would be… that?

That upsetting idea haunted him, hurting more than the bruises that had formed under fists of bullies Steve kept trying to save those even weaker than him from, more than stick and stones and words alike.

Then again… there was a little silver of hope in his heart, a little shy voice in his head. If you were to be his true love, then certainly you’d accept him, yes? If he tried, if he tried hard enough to be a good man, the best possible version of himself, if he worked hard to protect and feed his future family, set a good example for your future children as his mother had, worked towards making a better world, you’d accept him? If he could live with not being as great as others but never stopped trying, you would respect him and perhaps even loved him for what he was?

Then, of course, war came and those thoughts were pushed aside.

Then, he grabbed at his chance to fight that war, to do his part, to help – and incidentally, he also earned his chance to literally grow. Healthy. Strong. More worthy; but remaining good, because that was the one part of him he wanted to hold on to no matter what, that one part he would wish his love, wherever she was, would love him for, even if he suddenly shrank back into the back of skin and bones he used to be.

Then, he lost his best friend Turned into a failure.

And then… then he died.

One of his last thoughts were of you, a beautiful woman with vague appearance but strikingly kind heart and sharp mind. He prayed you’d get a new soulmate somehow, even as those cases weren’t heard of. He prayed you’d live a happy healthy life without him, at least as good as he would have tried his best to give you, to build with you, even as his own heart was breaking to pieces, regret veiling his body as water and snow and icy wind would, regret for missing his chance to meet the most special person in his world.

When he closed his eyes and still saw the white of ice and the blue of the deep sea, he’d swear he saw your face, crystal clear, for the first time – and the last time – in his life.

Seeing you, a stunning mirage, his last thought was that you were an angel gently leading him into afterlife.

When he woke up to a new millennium, one of the first things he did was checking his forearm; he words still sat there, taunting, mocking and heartbreaking, another screaming reminder of him not belonging here.

As years passed by, the sense of alienation subdued. Steve Rogers learned to belong, even as a piece of his heart was missing, longing for the past life – and the life he had never got to have – always humming in his chest quietly.

The mark on his forearm remained, a sad memento to a soulmate he had never met, turning him into a martyr.

But many people had rejected the idea of soulmates in this time, rebelling against their so-called fate, taking off on a path of searching love on their own. Steve learned they did so for various reasons – a sense of adventure before they’d truly find their one true love, a quest to choose the fortune and love on their own terms, a fuck-you to the universe when their soulmate turned out to be less than they imagined and hoped.

His own reasons, as he reluctantly started to look for a person to share his life with, were rather unique, but no one looked at him through their fingers for that. If anything, those who cared about him encouraged him, wishing for his happiness.

It was only when he got Bucky back – one of his greatest regrets not erased, not lessened since Bucky had endured unimaginable pain, but transformed, a piece of Steve’s past brought back to life – that he began to wonder about the almost blasphemous thought he had forbid himself from entertaining when he had been first brought back to life from ice.

Were you still there somewhere?

And then, a shier thought:

Is there still a chance for me to find my true soulmate?

And then, the shiest one of them all:

Is there a chance for me to find happiness with you?

When he had thought of that before, he was certain that since you were still alive – he had read reports of people claiming their soulmark changed colours if their loved one died – he had thought of you as an old lady who had hopefully lived her life as he had genuinely wished for her.

But what if fate, that little minx who had taken his best friend for life from him only to give him back, had somehow blessed Steve with a soulmark decades before you were even born? What he hadn’t lost his chance, what if you were still young enough to build a life with him? Was that even possible? There were aliens, flying suits of armour, other realms, downright magical weapons… he had been given a second chance at life. There were things happening Steve would have never thought possible before. So was there a chance…?

The idea of you being a doctor became much more plausible too – in this century, female doctors were a much more common occurrence. That, naturally, did not diminish your brilliance whatsoever, the fundamental idea of who you’d be never changing in Steve’s mind. The image only became less surreal in one way and a whole lot more surreal in another.

For his own sake, he didn’t give in into that hope fully; at least he told himself that despite lying awake at night, a ghost of a woman he had never met lying next to him, radiating non-existent warmth he wished with his whole being he could touch.

He wasn’t chasing after the ghost, didn’t allow himself that – there was no way to do so to his knowledge anyway – for the chances of success were rather slim.

But there was always hope, wasn’t there?

And the longing for love, whether it was in the hands of fate or in his own to find it, remained, built into his very body; etched into his bones, flowing through his veins, laced into his skin beyond the words on his forearm, always humming quietly in his heart.

In the age of information and science, the concept of having your ideal partner for life chosen by some mysterious abstract entity called Fate was literally otherworldly. Alien. Absurd even.

And yet, it still ruled the lives of many.

Which, in all honesty, was almost even more fascinating than the existence of soulmarks itself – the belief people had for them despite being no logic to them at all.

Perhaps it was the little piece of human soul, an inner child people so desperately wanted to cling to for its own beauty and purity, a child who never wanted to stop believing in magic, fate, dragons, mighty knights and kind-hearted ladies, in all things of fairytales and happy-endings the most. Because to a point, that was what soulmarks were – and little fairytale-like book of destiny.

One that not even science seemed capable of beating.

And you should know; you were somewhat of a scientist yourself. And despite how unfathomable the nature of soulmates was, you could not say that you rejected the idea of them, of someone who was born to belong with you, someone you could share your life with, the right partner in the crime of life. Basic bodily needs aside, wasn’t that the most fundamental need of all? To love and be loved; to belong?

Who wouldn’t wish for that reassurance that they could have that, that some strange force of universe itself created a person like that for them? They were the god’s strongest soldiers you supposed; because you were certainly not immune to that tempting comfort.

But you weren’t obsessed – and you prided yourself in the fact. Mostly because the sheer fanaticism of the world over soulmarks, the one thing that kept defying science – besides alien portals, magical blue cubes, demigods walking the Earth and things alike – was dialled up ad absurdum.

There could be billions of dollars poured into research of curing cancer. Cure autoimmune diseases. Helping the homeless. Slowing down global warming. Erasing poverty and famine. Protecting nature, endangered species. Discovering new worlds, exploring space.

But no. Governments poured billions of dollars into researching soulmarks. How was it they existed? How was it you could cut through skin, you could cut off skin and the mark would reappear somewhere else? What was the grand scheme of them? Why was it that only two people who belonged together could see them and the person speaking the words could only see it on their soulmate’s skin after they spoke the words, almost like a fail-safe that couldn’t seem to be broken with any tricks?

It wasn’t a question of physics as far as people knew; they had tried to build sets-up of various optics, thermovision cameras and complex sets of lenses and mirrors, and none of the reports you had ever heard of claimed success. It wasn’t genetic markers either; no one had discovered a sequence of DNA responsible for soulmarks, let alone turned whatever discovery they would have made into a tool of reading anyone’s but their own and their soulmate’s mark. It didn’t seem to be chemistry either; no one had made a groundbreaking discovery or at least they hadn’t informed the scientific or any other community so far.

But by gods, forget the space race. Attempting to be the first one to somehow read everyone’s soulmark and then create an algorithm to monetize it as the one and only soulmate dating app, now that was a competition overflowing with cutthroat madmen. Not to mention the crowds looking to temper with soulmarks, to make another one appear on someone’s body; or worse, to erase the original soulmark and instead design one capable of manipulating the outcome of a soulmate match.

You found the force of that obsession insane – and frankly, all the attempts morally wrong. While dedicated to science and loyal to discovery, you found soulmarks to be something sacred, one of the things that should not be touched by filthy human hands; god knew humanity, while doing a lot of good, had mucked up about just as much.

You were not alone in that belief. There were, in fact, numerous demonstrations against scientists experimenting with soulmarks, people protesting against anyone creating such tool and using it to temper with natural course of things no one fully understood, not for the lack of trying. However – as expected everywhere where politics and money were involved – these protests were in vain.

They were as vain and futile as the research of the marks itself.

As for your own soulmark, you had a rather complicated relationship with it.

On one hand, it gave you a sense of peace – there was someone for you, even as sometimes it did not feel plausible at all. You had time too – because based on those words, you would not meet your soulmate until in your twenties at least. You had plenty of time to become who you were meant to be before a man could turn your life upside down, even as that was not supposed to be what soulmates did, at least not in a bad sense of the word.  

On the other hand, it was a ball and chain. You would not find you soulmate sooner than in your twenties and sometimes, you missed them despite not having met yet. When imagining what your meeting could be like based on their first words etched into your skin, you feared they might be a little disappointed – even as you did not let that stop you from pursuing the life you wanted. And despite you wanting to choose the career either way, it felt like someone – be it god, fate or another cosmic entity humanity was yet to discover – had chosen the path for you the moment you had been born if not before.

'Doctor, are you alright?'

Four simple words that couldn’t be more ordinary and yet extraordinary for they represented one of the most meaningful encounters of your life. The source of as much comfort as anxiety.

You couldn’t stand hospitals ever since you were a child. The cold environment reminded you of the strange icy feeling that had settled in your chest over the months you had been visiting your dying father, your naïve eyes watching cancer bite off his energy and smiles first, before it swallowed his whole body and soul. He had been a ghost long before he passed; and in your mind, despite all rationality even years after, that ghost haunted any hospital you visited.

Learning what your soulmark was as a child, you had spent countless nights crying, soul torn into pieces, pushed and pulled between the visceral desire to live up to your soulmark and the crippling nausea at the mere thought of dealing with people drowned in misery caused by any illness in the cold institution they called a hospital.

However, the curious kid you had been, you had fallen in love with science itself.

And that one day at school, when a classmate of yours had brought their father to the class to talk about his job as a doctor, you had burst into tears. You began to sob in the middle of him explaining to third-graders that he was not a medical doctor, but a physicist with a doctorate earning him the degree of a doctor as well. You remembered your teacher leading you outside of class, concerned and absolutely baffled, trying to sooth you helplessly even as you were completely inconsolable – because you did not need consolation.

You were crying the happiest, most relieved tears of your life.

You could still be a ‘doctor’. And you genuinely wanted to be one, not just because of what your soulmark read. You had always wished to help people indirectly, even as you looked back at your life now. Sure, your soulmark could have been adding fuel to your drive when your motivation had been running low, but this was who you desired and was meant to become.

A molecular biologist. A doctor in making. Researching the effects of medicinal drugs with hopes to improve them.

A scientist not researching soulmarks, thank you very much.

And yes, there was the lingering feeling of missing a person you hadn’t even met yet – especially when Doctor Simmons’ face lit up like fluorodeoxyglucose in PET scans whenever she saw Doctor Fitz – but you had other things to focus on. And you had time. There was no pressure.

You were not a doctor yet, after all.

Naturally, just because you dodged the joys and sorrows of being a medical student and later on, a medical doctor, it did not mean that you had it easy. No one working on their doctorate did. But when you decided to pursue your degree and work in research, you signed up for that.

You signed up for a lot of things.

It was a little peculiar for you to be on the SHIELD campus in the science division without a doctorate. It was a known fact that SHIELD only recruited best of the best, this Science ad Technology in particular: you needed at least one doctorate to even walk through the door, which was something you were reminded a lot because you did not meet that requirement and here you were.

But SHELD owned the best equipment and you were fortunate enough to get in by the lovely game of fate, being good and driven enough and having met the right people at the right time. SHIELD Academy’s Science & Tech division had the unique equipment you often needed for your research. Your research was interesting enough for people who had perhaps more power over your little life than fate itself. Stars aligned.

It was no walk in a parc, but you were no fool; jumping after that opportunity after having one too many doors shut into your face was a no-brainer. Even though it meant signing up for a whole extra load of shit.

You signed up to be the weird girl. The privileged girl. Hell, even the stupider than local average girl, because you were only an engineer at this point.

You signed up for being the young girl, even as you had met a few people there who had started younger, having actually earned their first PhD at age 17 or less.

You signed up for mockery and misogyny, for as you were aware the level was blissfully low here compared to other workplaces, especially where science was concerned; in exact science, you observed, more than anywhere you ever heard of, it was customary to keep that one insufferable employee, because they were simply that good at their job, no matter that they had cost the department a few other employees.

You signed up for living on campus with other SHIELD recruits, which meant living in close quarters with other divisions; as a result, some days the whole area seemed to swim in testosterone emitted by the hulking special agents in making from Operations.  

But that was okay. You could do it.

There were bright sides too, many of them. Like pursuing your dream career. Being among like-minded people whose brain, to a large point, ran on the same wavelength. Hooking up with a handsome but notbrainless recruit from Operations or Communication here and there, some flings, some relationships, because if you were to wait for the love of your life, you might as well not wither completely. You were only human and you had needs along with your lifegoals.

You more than willingly signed up for working with Agent slash Doctor Jemma Simmons.  With her two PhDs and rich experience from the field, she had left the action behind in order to work on her third PhD and help humanity without having her life on the line every day. She was hard-working, with no-nonsense approach and lovely sense of humour with plenty of stories to back it up; she was overall pleasant person to work and be friends with and despite having been through amazing and terrifying experiences other people couldn’t even imagine, she remained surprisingly down-to-Earth.

Sure, she had her quirks like insisting on having a gun at hand at all times and stashing a few small vials of altered Molotov cocktail, a mixture of chemicals which would ignite upon the vial breaking, in one of the nearby cabinets – but you supposed there were worst things to get used to than that in a coworker or a friend. She used to be an active agent after all; in fact, unofficially, she remained one. Much like anyone, you knew that certain habits died hard and being through what she had been – she confessed to you that she once spent months on a nearly deserted ancient planet, among other things – left a mark. If this made her feel safer, you’d take it.

Another great thing about Jemma, Doctor Simmons, was that she was adorably English and was in dedicated relationship with Doctor Fitz who was a Scotsman, so that was the spice of long workdays at times; especially if you agreed to play Scrabble with them and a few friends in the evening.

But there were things you had not signed up for when following the alluring promise of a prestigious spot and unique equipment.

And one of them was a damn Nazi revival group in the form of fucking HYDRA attacking the lab while you were in the peaceful process of waiting for your PCR to finally be finished.

Influx of men in full tactical gear interrupting Jemma updating you the vacation plans, Fiji and all the rare species of fishes that could be observed there when scuba diving.

When you heard the first shouts, breaking of glass and dull echoes of gunshots from afar, your immediate thought was that you had been having a good day and that the experiment had been coming along nicely – and that whatever mess was happening was for sure about to ruin all your progress.

By the time panic settled in, Jemma was practically tackling you down, hand over your mouth to muffle your startled squeak at the sudden movement, her eyes alert and serious, screaming at you to keep quiet.

The sickening shouts of HAIL HYDRA, COOPERATE AND YOU’LL GET HURT LESS was what sent your brain crashing into reality; that and the distant agonized cries of people, coworkers and recruits you knew and met in the hallways every day, following the sounds of gunshots growing in volume and frequency.

You could hear Jemma shuffling next to you further.

You yourself were unable to move beyond stifling a cry behind your suddenly sweaty palm as another female voice wailed in pain.

Blood seemed to freeze in your veins despite your heart thundering in your ribcage and your temples and it helped you shit at all that you were aware that was such thing was literally impossible. By the time Jemma’s hand grabbed yours again and squeezed hard, you realized you were shaking – half in anger, half in paralyzing fear, half in utter shock. It didn’t matter it didn’t add up.

What mattered was the gun in Jemma’s hand. She was holding a gun, ready to shoot, because there were enemy agents, fucking HYDRA burst through the door, guns blazing. And killing people.

You were whispering with exasperation worth of a shout before you knew what you were doing.

“Why?! Why the fuck-“

“Probably the samples they brought in today, precious cargo,” Jemma whispered back frantically, loading the gun and reaching into another cabinet behind her. You only stared at her in utter confusion and mute horror, rapid heavy footsteps approaching and sending your already racing heart into a madness. “Gun or cocktails?”

“I can’t shoot a-!”

Before you could finish, the familiar sound of the sliding door opening and a horrifying echo of tactical boots reached your ears, a set of vials pressed into your palm.

You gulped, pulse thundering in your temples.

Those goddamn Simmons’ cocktails as you named them since she had insisted on keeping around.

You couldn’t believe the moment was here that you were actually grateful for them, even as they seemed to burn in your hand even with the vials themselves intact.

Your eyes snapped to Jemma’s face to question it wordlessly at least, but she wasn’t looking at you; she was listening intently, lying in wake as if she was the predator and not the prey you felt like.

Your own breathing seemed too loud as you allowed yourself to squeeze your eyes shut for but a moment, a desperate attempt to wake up from the nightmare; but the morning didn’t come.

Instead, a gunshot rang in the room, glass shattering somewhere above your head to your right, sending a waterfall of shards flying next to you.

And causing you to cry out in fright.

Which revealed your position to the agents flowing into the lab.

Without a thought you snapped your eyes opened, jumped to your feet and threw two vials in the direction of a black blur with a shockingly clear red patch of the mythical Hydra monster in the middle; peripherally, you saw Jemma attacking as well, deafening noise of gunshot nearly blowing your eardrum.

You crouched back behind the counter so fast you felt vertigo swing you to the left, sharp pain erupting from your palm. It was pure miracle your right hand didn’t clench in instinct and shatter the two remaining vials, setting yourself on fire as well.

As well.

Someone was screaming – a man, you realized – the acid smell of burned flesh and plastic and various chemicals punching your nose and your stomach hard. You had hit someone with the vial. They screamed because of what you had done. You had-

You had no time to feel sorry. You had no time to properly think fucking serves them right.

More steps, more gunshots, movements you weren’t sure how happened or came to you in the first place, flashes of light and crimson and noise and godawful smell--- and pain erupting in the back of your head and suddenly you were barely catching yourself on the counter with your slippery palm--- your fingers brushed metal, knees weak but hands grabbing with all your might, lifting and swinging, a sickening crack on your right before you were falling, landing on your wrist, back hitting the cabinet door and making even more noise as you sent equipment clattering around.

However, the loudest sound was another gunshot; but the strangest sound was unfamiliar whizzing and metal hitting metal and someone most definitely shouting “clear!” that sounded as distant as a whisper over the ringing in your ears.

Instinctively, your head snapped to the voice as you tried to prop up on your hands to see; the world swam in front of your eyes, dizziness forcing you to fall back on your ass and squeeze your eyes shut in hopes to stop the world from spinning, a sting in your palm drawing a hiss from your lips.

You could hear Jemma’s talking to someone, her words blurred into a mumble despite her voice sounding firm and methodical; footsteps, quick and heavy but somewhat soft, accompanied by a brush of air against your skin, making you open your eyes again just as navy blue with speckles of silvery grey glinting in a flickering light filled your vision.

Then, a face; an extremely handsome face even as a helmet made of blue similar to the rest of his suit covered the upper half of it, framing a pair of the dreamiest blue eyes you had ever seen, as beautiful as blurry as a dream indeed.

Somewhere in the back of your brain it started clicking into place – that the man in front of you looked a whole lot like Captain America and he was there to kick HYDRA’s ass; he was hunk and looked righteous and unfairly pretty, the cut of his jaw sharp enough to appear as if sculpted by ancient masters of art and it might be softened by the leather strap holding his helmet in place but that only brought out the sheer beauty of his lips even with a small bloody split on them.

And he was talking to you, his leather-clad hand gently grasping your arm as you involuntarily swayed to side when moving your head to take in the entirety of his large figure.

“Doctor, are you alright?” he asked slowly, velvety voice sweet and heavy with concern at once, the gentle but firm hold on your arm growing stronger when you blinked owlishly, the connection between the meaning of his words and his apparent intention to talk to you slow and fragile.

Your tongue felt as if made of lead even as it tasted of bitterness of adrenalin, but you willed yourself to answer, a knee-jerk reaction more than anything else.

“’mm… not a doctor yet.”

As you responded, you brain began to clear; and it occurred to you that it was a fair assumption for him to make.

You had grown used to clarifying, but hadn’t done so in months, because everyone already knew. However, he was an outsider to this lab and he couldn’t know you were the exception to the local rule. And you were wearing a lab coat, one that now had to be covered in mixture of chemicals you did not wish to identify, but perhaps you should try, because your forearm was beginning to burn.

The beautiful man kneeling in front of you silently observed you for what seemed like an eternity and half, surprise written all over his face. You couldn’t blame him; you were the weirdo of the lab. The fact the person who had purposely stacked explosives at hand was less of an anomaly than that was a thing to consider, but your head hurt too much to think about that and your heart was still beating unhealthily fast and his error seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things of HYDRA having attacked your lab and Captain America being right in front of you, holding onto your arm.

His soft baffled smile as he hung his head and shook it a bit with a breathless chuckle, and then lifted his downright shining gaze back to you, well that certainly made for a spectacular distraction from such unimportant thoughts.

Did his thumb just brush your arm as he still held you up a bit?

And had anyone ever told him he had a stunning smile that could melt hearts even if it was barely there and it was certainly melting yours?

“Apologies, miss. I’m going to help you get to medical, alright?” he suggested, those damn gorgeous eyes roaming your face with what almost seemed like wonder, even as his voice sounded all kinds of reassuring. “You’re safe now, I promise.”

Safe. You were safe. Because there had been HYDRA agents, but Captain America and actual SHIELD operatives had come to the rescue. And because Jemma was-

Jemma. Your straightened, dull ache pounding in your back as you did so, vision clearing a fraction with the sudden realization that you couldn’t hear your friend anymore. Your friend whom you owed your life very likely, but even if you didn’t, you would have-

You craned your neck over Captain America’s impressive frame, head snapping from left to right, nausea rising with the movement, but that didn’t matter, you had to-

You turned your alarmed gaze back to the man who was still holding you, an urgent question on your lips.

“Jemma? Is she--- Doctor Simmons, brunet, lab coat-“ you paused, realizing bitterly that you had just described half of the Science and Technology. “Female. She’s a doctor and an agent too, she was with me had a gu-“

A warm squeeze on your arm, the concern which had grown even more evident on Captain’s face melting away and giving way to a soothing smile.

“She’s alright. She’s already left to be checked up and to give her statement.”

Your shoulders sagged, your head dropping a bit; the violent vertigo that seized your body at that was not pleasant and you tried to blink it away, gaze catching the reflection of the still-blinking fluorescent lamp on the Captain’s shield.

Oh. That was probably what had made the whizzing sound before. As your brain conjured an image of that, a spinning shield flying through the air, you cursed yourself mentally for letting your mind even go there since you had already felt like you were the flying piece of metal and the thing you’d hit eventually would be the floor.

“My head is spinning,” you muttered absently as you attempted to refocus your gaze, praying to gods of religion and science alike you wouldn’t throw up on the poor caring man.

Why was he still sitting here with you? Surely there were much more important things to tend to than one little post-grad? How was he so kind and gentle? Wasn’t he known for inspiring speeches in a deep serious voice and for beating up villains with both his physical strength and brains?

So many questions and no answer in those pretty blue eyes.

In fact, the number of your questions grew exponentially when the hand on your arm released the pressure and gently rubbed your elbow instead; his free hand carefully cradled the back of your other hand, the contrast of leather and his warm skin surprisingly sensual, suddenly making you understand why so many regency era literature spoke of hand-holding as indecent even as it was barely Fifty Shades of Grey level of filth.  

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Captain Rogers said, snapping you from your thoughts. “Let me help you up and they’ll check you up too, including this nasty cut, okay?”

Huh?

Purposely slowly as not to make the vertigo worse, you glanced at your hand in his, feeling a fresh sting just by looking at your palm, your gaze instantly snapping away.

And falling straight onto two intact vials full of liquid of a distinct colour, lying carelessly about two feet away from Steve Rogers’ tactical boots. Your heart jumped in your chest, your hazy mind finally growing aware of your surroundings.

“Shoot! Careful around those, they’re highly flammable!” you warned him swiftly, his gaze snapping to the vials in question, while ours slowly trailed over the utter, utter messthe lab had become.

The sheer amount of broken glass, spilled chemicals, broken pipettes, torn papers and unidentifiable piles of junk was staggering and it was actually a miracle nothing had exploded yet – and as a cherry on top, a few feet away, a relatively small portable PCR machine, the very equipment you had been using, downright murdered along with your experiment and a smudge of blood around it. Jesus.

“Okay, that’s good to know. More the reason to get out,” Captain Rogers remarked, slight amusement lacing his voice, only growing stronger as he continued. “Keep a lot of these around?”

You could have scoffed, but you didn’t. You have no idea, pal.

“My friend is paranoid…” you explained, still staring at them, even as you mentally added ‘or not’, since those little things might have very well saved your life. As your gaze returned to Captain Rogers, your eyes caught on something else, having you sit up straighter in sheer horror. “Is that a stab wound?!”

You gulped at the sight, even as your uninjured hand instinctively reached out towards it – as if you could fix it. The already dark suit, a lovely navy blue, appeared downright black at left his side, right where it seemed to be singed by a flame.

Had that injury been there the whole damn time he had been sitting here with you, eternally patient with your slowed brain, Simmons’ cocktails lying around in one huge chemical dump in risk of exploding any damn minute?

You logically knew the answer had to be yes, but it made zero sense – and his answer made even less sense.

“Bullet, actually. Some sort of chemical damaged the Kevlar lining and they got a lucky hit. It’s just a graze.”

“A gra-“ you choked on the word, spit stuck in your throat causing you to cough and a groan escape past your lips as the sudden rapid movement sent your head pounding again.

“Hey, you-“

“You’ve been shot and you called my cut nasty?” you questioned through the tears, earning a smile worth giving up a career for – painfully warm, kind and… almost fond.

You truly must have hit your head hard.

…as if it hadn’t been evident before.

“I heal fast. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be alright, doc.”

A knee-jerk reaction – again. What was it with him? Had he hit his head, forgetting you had already explained – you had, you hadn’t imagined that, right? – and now he called you a doctor again, turned into a familiar nickname, no less.

“I’m not a doct---- holy shit.”

It slammed into you like a train, struck you like a lightning, even as neither of those things had ever happened to you – yet, you imagined it had to feel like this.

A massive force, a force of nature, realization as bright and as unexpected as a lightning from a clear sky.

Doctor, are you alright?

He had asked that. He had asked that. He had said your words. He had said your goddamn soulmate’s first words to you, what must have been minutes ago, and only now it hit you.

You were left staring at him with wide eyes, myriad of emotions written all over his face, including  slight amusement and what you had earlier inexplicably identified as fondness, because the reason why he was still sitting here with you – though perhaps that was what he always did when rescuing, what did you know, you didn’t, this was your first meeting, that was why he had said the words – was that unlike you, he had realized you were his soulmate right away.

He kept watching you, silently letting you process the crucial revelation, a tight but no less kind smile on his lips.

“You said my words,” you said oh so intelligently. “You--- what… what did I—say?”

It was perhaps the stupidest question of all you could have come up on the spot, but you genuinely couldn’t remember – and wanted to know what words he had been looking at his whole life.

…this part of life? Or before the ice too? How did he feel about that? How did he feel about you? Was he disappointed? He didn’t look like he was, but didn’t even know what you had said—

What you did know and remember was that you were supposed to be smart and yet it had taken you an eternity to even notice you were facing your soulmate you had been probably spewing complete nonsense, you were now stammering like an idiot and for someone who had been worried, always, even if in the back of their mind, if their soulmate would find them good enough, you were generally making a bloody awful first impression.

But seriously, what had been your first words-

“You said you weren’t a doctor yet,” Captain Rogers reminded you, voice soft with affection of someone who had imagined hearing those words at least as many times as you had wondered about yours, hoping they would be pronounced by someone who’d respect you and cared about what kind of person you were, and would hopefully, eventually care for you. Loved you even. The tender way the syllables rolled of his tongue, spoken as if they tasted of honey, nearly chased fresh tears to your eyes. Alright, perhaps your first impression hadn’t been as bad as it appeared in your – albeit injured – head.  “But if you really don’t remember saying that, that’s not a good sign. We need to get you medical attention. Come on. Hold on.”

Blinking slowly, still processing the light and yet suffocating feeling that found residence in your chest as it was starting to truly settle that this man, this painfully beautiful and criminally gentle man, was your soulmate, he was leaning closer to you, his hands guiding yours to wrap around his neck, a wordless order you had obediently followed, and then one of his arms was sliding under your knees and his other wrapping around the middle of your back.

And then your vertigo hit you anew because you were suddenly up in the air, hands gripping hard at anything you could reach – conveniently, the only thing was him, because he had lifted you upin his arms, some of your weight resting against his chest – despite the pain that shot up your left hand.

“Whoa-“ And then, because your memory did serve you at least a little: “You--- have been stabbed.”

“Shot,” he repeated patiently, fondly almost, and you did recall he had said that.

You recalled despite the scent of pleasant aftershave and peak man suddenly enveloping you as much as his arms and the firm armour – or perhaps that was the muscles underneath? And those pretty blue eyes were watching you with a glint of amusement and a surprising amount of affection for a guy saying he had been hit by a bullet, while effortlessly carrying the girl he had just met in his-- very, very strong, muscly arms and perhaps your head was not only spinning because of the sudden height you found yourself at.

…amusement? How was he amused? Was that-- was that a joke? Was he making fun of his bullet wound, playing it down? 

“That’s… really not better.”

He grinned down at you as he made his way to the exit.

Walking. Watching you. Grinning and not even really looking where he was stepping.

Oh no.

Oh no, he was one of those people. You had met men like him at Operations, except for some reason – perhaps some sort of a soulmate telepathy – you had a feeling in him, that the peculiar recklessness many people from suffered, the disregard for their safety, because they could handle it, was dialled up to eleven in him. On a one to five scale. Because scaling mattered; you were a scientist. You’d know.

However, he did make it out of the laboratory without blowing anything up – perhaps at least that recklessness was balanced up by enhanced senses of a supersoldier and indeed, healing fast. And you hoped with your whole heart that walking out unscathed was a conscious effort, be it for him (somehow you doubted that) or for the cargo he was carrying (you had no doubt about that, not when he was looking at you like that). At least he had kept the helmet on; you were thankful for that, even as you’d love to see him without it.

See your soulmate.

You knew what he looked like everyone knew what he looked like. If they had missed the WW II. ed, they could barely miss the news about an alien invasion he had had a hand in stopping, the fall of majority of SHIELD, and other exciting horrifying news.

“I’ll be fine, doc. Now let’s get you away from exploding vials and lab equipment you could knock me out with. I’d rather be safe when I ask you out for dinner.”

You gulped, gripping him a bit tighter as a memory hit you – literally.

The PCR machine. You had done that. You had grabbed it and used it to smash into a HYDRA agent’s face, using the nearest improvised tool of defence. Jesus.

I really did that?

“You… saw that?” was what you asked instead, a few second ticking by as the rest of his words registered in your brain – and god, you really hoped your cognitive abilities would restore soon and the head injury had not caused permanent damage. “Oh.”

As much as your heart started pounding at that, a pleasant somersault in your stomach for a change, it was a little unfair to sort-of ask you when you were in your current predicament. Being carried like that, so close to him, so gentlemanly and tenderly handled despite your weight no doubt straining him, especially since he had been shot – grazed –, yoursenses wrapped in everything that was him and pulling you in, you were fairly certain you might say yes to just about anything he’d ask.

And not just because he was your soulmate.

Your soulmate carrying you in his arms, while wearing a very flattering suit of armour.

“If you’d like, of course,” he added with slight hesitance that only made your heart race further, because he was laying out his own heart for you already, expressive, genuine, and maybe sweetly handsy but not pushy despite his title and rank technically giving him every right to do whatever the hell he wanted. “But either way, I’ll save the real question for when I know you’re not suffering from a concussion. That sounds good?”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied dutifully. It did sound good, his consideration warming you from inside out. His voice sounded good too. “Sounds good to me.”

His smile was bright as the sun itself and basking in its light and warmth felt just as precious. Except he was to be your private sun forever shared with other to a point, but yours. Chosen by fate itself, defying all you had ever believed, beating time by decades, only so you could find each other.

“Looking forward to it, doc. Maybe I’ll get to know your name too while we’ll be at it,” he teased lightly, but without malice. “My name is Steve.”

Steve.

You knew that. You liked that.

Hand trembling a little, but not because you worried he’d drop you as you partly let go of his shoulders, you reached for the clasp on his helmet, a fluttery feeling in your chest eager to indeed see Steve rather than the Captain.

You felt your lips curl up and mirror his when he gave a tiny nod at your brief hesitation, your fingers finally undoing the strap and revealing his face with his help.

His hair was adorably ruffled, a slight shade of dust on his cheeks whispering of where the protective gear had been; but scientifically speaking, as well as speaking directly from heart, he was absolutely beautiful, his tender smile telling you he thought the very same about you.

He was meant to be yours; as you were meant to be his.

And you couldn’t wait to get to know him.

You could tell there were people around you and they were probably staring; but for the moment, you didn’t care at all. You had just met your soulmate.

And you weren’t even a doctor yet.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Steve. But I have to admit…” you said, teasing him with a pause, rewarded by his eyes earning a curious glint, “that the Doc nickname is kinda growing on me.”

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Oh this feels like coming back to my roots 🤭 but hey, this challenge is a revival of all thigs good of the past, so why not go with the good old-fashioned soulmate meet-cute with a little angst beforehand, right?

AND BEHOLD I WROTE SOMETHING SHORTER THAN 10K. SHORTER THAN 8K ACTUALLY! It’s an extravaganza miracle 😂

Also. There might be some unrelated smut in the works, but I will not finish that today so... won't be part of the cum together extravaganza... ah well 🤭

Thank you for reading and potential feedback 💕

May the Fourth be with you and the rest of May be kind ✨

[365emotionlessfaces]

Again, y’all. I’m sorry. She’s got me in a chokehold. I might write more chapters for this one. I kinda like it.

Don’t Take My Sunshine

WC: ~2.2k

“What did you call me, Schemmenti?!” Your voice rang through the empty hall of Abbott Elementary. The red-headed teacher has driven you crazy on every level possible for the last three years. She infuriated you from the beginning. She hadn’t even given you a chance when you started teaching at this school, immediately starting in on your appearance and your happy-go-lucky attitude, and then evolving to criticizing your teaching methods! She always knew exactly how to get under your skin, and after all this time you had hoped that she would have calmed down. Or that your skin would’ve gotten thicker.

Fiery hair flew out of the door down the hall, followed by piercing green eyes, a bright pink blazer over a charcoal blouse, flowy black dress pants, and heels that could puncture your heart. Her eyes landed on you, and you felt your breath catch slightly. Even though they always held contempt for you, her eyes were the most beautiful you had ever seen. They almost made her insults bearable. Almost.

“You’re a little sfigata! Comin’ in here, actin’ so full o’ life, an’ now I got my students wantin’ to know what youse guys are doing in the class next door! I can barely keep my kiddos engaged, then we got Mary Freaking Poppins havin’ sunshine and musicals every stinkin’ day! I’m so over you and your chipper little attitude! Get over yourself!” If this was how hostile she was going to be on week three of school, you were going to have to resign yourself to a long year. Your chipper attitude was hard-earned through years of bullies, exes, angry parents, and just plain mean people.

After three years, you had decided two things when it pertained to Melissa Schemmenti:

•She was undeniably attractive- a Philly thirteen, you swear to Gods- and she only got hotter when she was angry

•You were gonna kill her with kindness

“You think I sound like Mary Poppins?” You asked her sweetly, giving her as genuine of a smile as you could muster. You swear you saw her eye twitch. “That’s really sweet of you, Melissa. Just because you’re being so sweet, I’ll try to keep it down.” You gave her a quick wink, and dipped into your classroom to finish grading the tests from today.

You disappeared from Melissa’s line of sight so quickly, you missed the shocked expression flash across her face. It lasted less than a second before it turned to one of annoyance. She tightened her hands into fists, crumpling the papers in her left, before storming back into her own classroom.

The following week found you staying true to your word, keeping the volume to a lower octave than before. You didn’t have any less music throughout your day, though. The week also brought less snide remarks from the Italian next door. They were still there, but they were slowly losing their bite.

By the time Christmas break rolled around, she was almost… complimenting you? She took to not being so snide when she had a request to make, and you think last week you heard a ‘please’ come from those beautiful lips. You’re pretty sure it’s a real smile she gives you when she calls you things like ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ and ‘Princess Happy.’ You realized that, sure, when she was angry she was gorgeous, but when her eyes softened, and the corners of her lips curled up into a smirk at one of your sarcastic remarks, she went from beautiful to straight-up ethereal.

———

“So what did you do over Christmas break?” Janine Teagues slid into the seat next to you, while you attempted to eat your lunch. The stress from seeing your family over break had you so caught up in your own mind, you barely noticed Janine had sat down. You definitely didn’t notice the redhead’s eyes on you.

“Huh?” Was all you managed for a response in between stabbing at your salad with your fork. This seemed to shock a few of your colleagues, as Barb and Jacob both looked at you with concern on their faces. You were usually one to chat animatedly with Janine, or anyone, about a variety of subjects.

“Did you do anything over break?” She repeated, slightly more hesitant than last time.

“Oh, I went home to see my Grandpa,” you sighed slightly, remembering the disaster that was your impromptu family reunion.

It was just supposed to be dinner between you and your grandpa, but apparently over the last three years, he and your father had reconnected. You haven’t talked to your father since his horrible reaction to you coming out. It had been years since you had seen him, and you definitely had not wanted to see him yet. The night ended with you and your cousin screaming and arguing over respecting your elders, even if they disrespect you.

You ended up apologizing to your grandfather for the scene and coming home three days earlier than planned. You spent the remainder of your time away from Abbott making lesson plans, and trying to come up with more projects to get your kids excited to learn. The four pints of ice cream you went through did nothing to soothe your emotions.

“That must’ve been nice! I miss my grandpa. When I was little, he used to take me and my sister…” her voice trailed off as you pulled your mind back into school mode. After you had finished your lunch, you made your way straight to your classroom, not even bothering to bid farewell to a soul in the break room. Not a single one of those souls missed the frown that donned Melissa’s face as you left without saying goodbye, though no one was brave enough to call attention to her suddenly soured mood.

It took all of two minutes before Melissa was out of her seat, and marching down the hall towards your room. The bell rang as she was halfway to your room, signaling that her little eagles would be on their way back to her room. She muttered to herself, something about “saved by the bell” and “stinkin’ sunshine anyway,” and turned to meet her kids in her class.

The rest of the day went by without any major disasters. Other than the usual messes, and small arguments, the children were well-behaved, and your mode started to lift slightly. Being back in your class was bringing a sense of normalcy that you needed after the break. You were reminded that these kids look up to you and really do care for you as much as you do for them.

After dismissal, you gathered your things and made your way to the parking lot, avoiding goodbyes for the second time that day. It wasn’t that you were avoiding them per se, you just didn’t have the energy to be the happy-go-lucky person you try to be when at school, and you didn’t want any of your friends to see you like this.

It took an entire week back from break before you were finally feeling like yourself again. You had avoided any and all unnecessary interaction between your coworkers, which was surprisingly difficult, especially by Wednesday when Melissa had begun to try and seek out interactions with you. You taught kindergarteners, so the only teacher you couldn’t avoid at all costs was Barb, and she seemed to understand you needed space, so she only approached you if she absolutely had to. Thankfully, she hadn’t needed much, so you were able to keep to yourself all week.

Having to endure the entire week without you, got Melissa thinking. On Tuesday, she had thought maybe she had done or said something that crossed the line. Whether or not your cute little laughs had grown on her, she was still a Schemmenti, and Schemmentis had attitude. But between not talking to anybody the day before, and now you’re not at lunch, she realized she might miss that laugh a little more than she wanted to.

On Wednesday, she decided she’d find you and apologize. If she had hurt your feelings, she would actually feel a little bad. You had been a whole ass ray of blinding sunshine for three years, never once faltering at any of her quips, jokes, or all out insults, and if she had really gotten you with one, she hadn’t meant to. Especially not now, not when your smiles were make or break for her day, and your tears made her want to bare knuckle fist fight anyone who made you feel like shit.

Thursday morning brought fumes for Melissa. She hadn’t seen you in the parking lot before school, the break room for coffee, or first recess break, which she knew that you shared with her. And if anyone asks, no, she was not looking forward to seeing you or that beautiful smile that made her question everything or the way you clearly cared about every single student within these walls. She was definitely just upset because clearly you were shirking on your duties, that’s all. It was only during her planning period that she calmed down, and it was due mostly in part because of Barb joining the hot-headed Italian and expressing her concern for you. Realizing that Melissa was not the only teacher at Abbott that you had been avoiding made it slightly more bearable for the woman.

Then came Friday. The morning had been a nightmare for you, starting with waking up late, burning breakfast, and then forgetting your packed lunch right there on the counter in the kitchen. You got to work, and decided to sit in your car to decompress for a moment. Across the parking lot, you saw Melissa getting out of her car and start looking around, probably looking to see if Barb was here already. You were surprised when her eyes stopped on your vehicle, and she started making a beeline towards you. When she got close enough, you two locked eyes, and she began talking. You couldn’t understand her, of course. You were still sitting in your car, in shock that she had sought you out. You opened your door and the barrage of words was audible.

“-get off thinking that you can become a staple in my routine and then disappear? You got some nerve! You can’t just come in and make it all sunshiney and make everyone like you, and then avoid us all! Some of us rely on your insufferable chipperness, ya know?”

The funk of your last week was washed away in an instant as you realized something. Here Melissa Schemmenti was, scolding you, infuriated because she hadn’t seen you for a week. The last three months of you giving her the biggest smiles you could muster and the politest compliments you could think of, had worked.

“Hello?” Melissa’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “You got anything to say for yourself?”

You grinned mischievously before replying. “You missed me, Schemmenti, didn’t ya?” You saw her soften slightly. Unbeknownst to you, she was flooded with relief. Barb had been growing increasingly worried about you, which of course only raised Melissa’s concern tenfold.

“How can I not miss my sunshine?” She asked with a smile. A real, genuine smile. You would’ve noticed her blush, had you not been too worried about hiding your own. “Just don’t take it away again, ya hear?”

———

“There’s my sunshine!” Melissa was leaning against the doorframe of your classroom with her arms folded across her chest, and a beautiful smile radiating across the room. It was the last day of school and you were just finishing packing the last of your things to head home for the summer. The months since winter break had brought a friendship between you, Melissa, Barb and Jacob that you had never thought would be possible. The four of you had become inseparable, sharing laughs and jokes amongst your days of dealing with the children of chaos, though you wished for more than friendship with one of them.

You looked up at her and smiled. She took your breath away. The last few years with Melissa took your emotions on a rollercoaster. The process from moving from enemies to friends was a long one, but it took no time at all for your good platonic feelings to turn into something very less platonic. You thought about all the work you did to become her friend, and decided you weren’t willing to risk losing that. Not yet.

So instead, you settled with the fact that for now, Melissa Schemmenti didn’t hate you anymore. “Hey, Mel. You, Barb, and Jacob ready to go?” She nodded and you followed her into the hall, meeting up with the other two of the Fearsome Foursome (Jacob’s idea), and heading out to dinner with your best friends.

As far as Melissa was concerned, she thought as she walked with her friends out of Abbott Elementary, she didn’t need to label whatever it was she was feeling for you. You had brought a sunshine into her life that penetrated all the dark little corners of her heart, and she’d be damned if anyone tried to take her sunshine away.