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crsssie · 3 months ago

Text

boy it's not that complicated (you should stay in my good graces)

word count: 20.6k || F1 AU || full fic: Ao3 Link || banner by @chesue00

summary: Thank god you went to grab coffee first race of the season.

"That was my coffee."

You pause with the cup, blinking at the guy who's just decided to approach you.

Blue eyes... blonde (his roots are showing) hair, blue and white racing suit on his skin, and you tilt your head. It wasn't as if you were planning on drinking the coffee, you just wanted to move it out of the way so you could make another cup, but how it almost makes you wanna mess with him more. It's bad to mess with the drivers too much, though.

"And who might you be?"

"Leon? Leon S Kennedy. Newest driver of Stratcom."

You tap your chin. Right. The new driver scouted from Raccoon.

"Yeah, the neck says it all."

Leon raises a brow incredulously as you laugh, holding the coffee still as you laugh into your palm. Heavens, you're having fun. You grin at him, eyes squinted in amusement as you calm yourself through deep breaths, failing when you catch a glance of his face again, fanning your face, lost in your own world of amusement. When you catch a glance of your watch, you straighten up almost immediately, exhaling and catching your breath as you calm yourself.

You put Leon's coffee down with a nearly apologetic nod.

"I wasn't planning on drinking it."

"Who might you be?"

"One of the many men behind your team."

"You don't look very... man."

Your lips quirk up in amusement and you coo. "Oh, really?"

You hand him his coffee as yours finishes, boots clicking as you saunter down the hall. Leon stares at his cup and drinks it, sighing as the coffee takes effect slowly throughout the day, watching as the reserves drive back and the engineers figure out what to change. He should be out there, but it seems Stratcom operates slightly differently from Raccoon. Maybe that was what came with a bigger company. Yet, he hangs back anyway, watching as Hunnigan talks to... you. He feels like he should be surprised. Yet, he isn't that much, finding that it's alot more female-dominant in Stratcom than he was expecting.

"How's the car?"

Hunnigan spins around as you continue to look at the numbers, tapping your chin as you huff.

"The tires are thinning out too much after a lap."

"Should we change them?"

"The data from last seasons says yes."

"To the medium ones?"

You nod. "Were we using soft ones?"

"Not that I know of."

Leon wonders whose performance engineer you really are. You seem to be his from the way you're talking to Hunnigan, and he raises a brow as you point at a set of tires.

"Those?"

"I'm sure rookie can handle them." You hum. "Leon, drive."

Leon raises a brow, and you wink.

"Come on. Show everyone a lap."

Leon looks to Hunnigan for approval, sure that he wasn't exactly supposed to be here since the practices were for the car and not him. "Hunnigan?"

"If you're up for it."

Leon takes the helmet from the engineers, sighing as he sits into his car, checking the numbers and wheel, staring at the data presented to him as he feels the wheel. Between break and practice, Leon had to learn everything new with the Stratcom vehicles, and he finds himself surprised at how well-adjusted his hands are. Maybe the mold of his hands was for this exact purpose. He wouldn't know. All he had been doing in practice was grinding as hard as he could. Moving up in companies didn't mean that he would be able to match their old drivers.

"Everything feel alright?" You don't look at him, and he raises a brow.

"It's fine."

"I need good."

"Good."

You check the stats one last time, and let the car out of the garage. Hunnigan connects with Leon to check how his vehicle feels, and you watch the stats on the monitor as Leon finishes a lap, checking all the stats. It starts fine with the newer tires, and you glance at the sensors and let Hunnigan know for Leon to fix a sensor, watching to check how many laps he can take before the tires start wearing out. You update Hunnigan on information that she relays to Leon, and you watch as he speaks back to her. He rings in your headset as you're connected, and you read out information for him. Apparently, he's an ungrateful brat, though.

"God, you talk too much."

"Thanks, I'll talk less once you make it out of this race alive."

Leon makes it in for a fifth lap, and you're taken off the line, back to watching the sensor data as you tell Hunnigan to have Leon reset another sensor. You take the note down on the side with a sharpie to run a sensor check before he goes out on the field again the next practice. This one was yielding a bunch of issues that you were sure had been solved, and you grumble as you stare at the engine. The tenth lap yields the necessity of a pit stop, and you tell Hunnigan to jump back.

"Box, now."

"What's wrong?" Leon frowns at Hunnigan's command, pulling into the pit.

"Vibrations. The vehicle isn't steady." You call over it, making changes you deem necessary within the two seconds that everything is changed, and Leon speeds off again. You check to see if the danger has subsided, and you hum when it has. The next score laps are smooth, and when Hunnigan has Leon pull in to do a better check, you hop off your desk and get your hands on. Leon watches as you glance at the numbers and then adjust sensors, sending him out again for a final handful of laps with different tires to check how Leon's doing. You find that he does better with the medium-grip tires, but you still wonder if you could move up in terms of hardness to see how well he drives with them. You make one final pit stop with a full change to have his tires changed, and you watch as Leon struggles with control.

Hunnigan tells Leon to pull over, but Leon turns her down.

"Leon. You aren't controlling them well."

"I know what I'm doing." Leon huffs. "We didn't have the funds for this back in Raccoon. Let me race a little more at a lower speed."

You watch the numbers as he slows down, and you watch as he makes a dozen rounds before returning to regular speed, much more adjusted now.

"Is this alright?"

"It's good." Hunnigan reads from your hand motion, telling Leon to return to the pit.

"He's a fast learner."

"We wouldn't have picked him had he not." Hunnigan glances at the numbers as Leon pulls in, and you sigh.

"We'll start you with hard tires at the start to keep you away from a box for as long as possible." Hunnigan nods at you. "We'll try something else during fp2 to see if you adjust and respond well to it. Take a break. You did well."

You frown at the numbers recorded, and you have the engineers check on the sensors on the car. There isn't much else you can do, and a brief talk with the majority of the team confirms that there shouldn't be any other problems, but the car is taken out for one last drive to check that everything is in order, and the garage is closed for the short break in between. You don't get a break during that time, an informal meeting of engineers gathering together as you go over what has been adjusted and how it would affect performance. You enjoy it, truly, but you're also tired of talking to some of these old men so often.

Too bad summer break has just finished.

You spin the pen in hand as you continue staring at the infinite prints that the printer spat out at your request, and you groan.

"Everything good?"

"I don't have any of Leon's stats. How does he drive?" You flip through the binder.

"He drives... normal. If there even is a bar for that. We're not sure how he's going to react to the rest of the drivers, but so far his driving is normal from his history." Hunnigan hums. "His tires wear out often, but he's good at overtaking. He's horrible at car management, though."

"He's not going to like falling back."

"Right. It's also why you found that he did so many more pit stops."

"Well, awful as he is with management, at least it's not like Krauser." You mumble. "He drives a little too aggressively."

"But he yields results. You know that."

"Yeah." You huff. "Well, he won't be winning now that Ada's back on the track."

"No one wins against Ada."

"Yeah." You mumble. "Her defense is too good. She's too good at quali."

"She's just good at being fast." You hum. "Not that I'm complaining. I love seeing women on the track in those cars."

"Wrong team." Hunnigan rolls her eyes. "Who knows. You might be a spy."

"With a salary like this? In your dreams." You roll your eyes back. "Wesker couldn't pay me half as much as this. He doesn't even like me."

"He doesn't like anyone."

"Fair."

Fp2 runs around and you go back to adjusting the car, not too many things going wrong this time. The time slot truly messes with you, and you yawn as you press another cup of coffee to your lips. Hunnigan talks to the driver on comms as you read through the numbers, surprised at how long it can last when Leon isn't at the wheel.

"Jesus, Leon sucks at car management."

One of the engineers in the back holds back a laugh, and you grimace.

"That wasn't funny, John."

"I know." He snorts.

You learn to make peace with the fact that Leon's going to be making far more pit stops than necessary in the race.

Leon warms up in the morning before qualifying, stepping to the side as Hunnigan runs through the data with the rest of the team, watching as someone else drives his car around to run final check-ups. He listens as Hunnigan runs it down for him, his lip quirking upward as he grins.

"Hunnigan, you always look great without your glasses. Give me your number when we get back?"

Hunnigan rolls her eyes. "We're on duty."

"Wrap it up, white boy." You interject. "You get to ask her out when you aren't wearing your car out in three laps."

"Just admit it. You're jealous I don't flirt with you during quali."

"Leon Scott Kennedy. My job is to make sure you make it out of a race alive. If you really wanna do all of your publicity nonsense you should really go find Ada now that she's back."

"I missed her." Leon clicks his tongue.

"He didn't." Hunnigan sighs. "They're best friends in private."

"Hunnigan!"

You shrug, grin on your face as you tilt your head.

"Truly?"

"Everything they do is for publicity."

"I see." You grin. "Well, if you ever want to go the extra mile for publicity, be sure to blow her a kiss when she places on the podium today."

"You don't think I'll win?"

You smile. "God knows what weird upgrade Ada added to her own car now that she's back."

Leon finds you frustrating. He knows his main engineers are females. Hunnigan was incredible with how smooth she was in terms of operation, but despite his best chances, she wasn't the greatest at understanding what he meant by certain words. She's older than he is, if he thinks about it. He assumed that since Stratcom was bigger than Raccoon, maybe they'd have the more experienced at the engineering deck. Well, not his problem. As long as he could race better than he did in Raccoon.

His time is better despite his wheels being worn out. Arguably, he's placed somewhere up with Krauser now. He used to dream of that back in Raccoon.

"Good to go." You confirm.

Leon starts with his time as you take note of Hunnigan's screen, watching your own numbers as the sensors indicate everything. You don't need to talk to Leon all that much. It's mostly Hunnigan's job, but the good thing you'd argue is that Hunnigan isn't one for all that much talking either. You end up being the one to call some things when she's too focused on having him move forward. She doesn't quite reign Leon in. There's a lack of balance that you don't really want to bring up to the superiors. Leon's new. If you request someone who clicks with him better, it wouldn't be too great on either end. Besides, Hunnigan's the best to offer outside of Krauser's nearly invincible team.

You take a peek at Krauser's time so far, and you hum.

"Aim for first, but make sure to land in q3." Hunnigan reads the positioning.

"Got it."

There isn't much to say to Leon when he's in qualifying. He's plenty capable of setting good times. You sit on the side as he makes laps around, placing first out of the majority. If you were right, Ada should be in the slot once the next car moves out. You love her. It doesn't matter if she's in Wesker, she's iconic.

Well, considering the publicity, Leon might just speed up once Ada hits the track.

You watch as she enters the track, and you grin as Leon's speed grows quicker and quicker on the track.

"Is this because of Ada?"

You tap the screen for Hunnigan, and she nods.

"Leon you have a five-second gain. You have one final lap." Hunnigan checks his time.

"Make that six."

You nod. "Sensors are good."

Leon drifts in the corner turns, speeding up as fast as he can, and you hold your breath as he races past the finish line with the six seconds he promised. Time ends as he drives back, and you check the car. It's fine. A lot of systems are roughed up because Leon sucks at taking care of vehicles, but it's not awful. If he drives slower than this, he should be able to place on the podium if he tries hard enough. Well, granted he doesn't end up in more pit stops than necessary. That's always an awful loss of time.

"Leon." You call for him as he grumbles in the car. A short break in between before q3.

"What?"

"Stop trying to drift. I know Nascar makes it look beautiful and all, but without control, you're going to kill both the car and you. You're also losing speed when you do that."

"It's what I did in Raccoon."

"You're creating more drag when you drift."

He huffs.

"How do you not know that? Did Raccoon let you drift?"

"You didn't watch my old races?" He raises a brow. "I drive dangerously. I corner opponents."

"It's great, but only works if you manage to wear them down. From the stats Hunnigan got of you, you aren't causing enough losses in time for others. You can't chase at your own expense. Chase at theirs."

"Then adjust my car."

"Leon. This race is testing waters for you. Either you do what you do good, or you play safe."

Leon thinks about it.

"I'll do what I do good."

"Well, you better yield results tomorrow during the race."

Leon offers you a half-assed smile.

"I want you to back it up on the attitude if you don't place, white boy."

"Is that all I am to you? White boy?"

You shrug, turning on your heel. "Better get rested. Q3 starts soon."

Leon places fifth in the q3, and you raise a brow at him. Had he been the fastest, he would have been able to do better, but he didn't. You don't exchange words with him when he returns, brow raised in amusement as he clicks his tongue at you. He's going to say something with that smartass tongue of his.

"Engineers."

"Can't say shit when we make your car, Leon." You hum. "Rest up for the race tomorrow. Better get a move on."

"Aren't you supposed to work with me?"

"Not with that attitude, no."

"You ready to fix my car tomorrow?"

"As long as you get on that podium, pretty boy."

Your lips quirk up as you watch a furious red paint Leon's face.

Not used to being flirted with back, huh?

When the big day rolls around, Leon finds himself next to you again, staring at the car as you make a final adjustment and check the numbers on the screen. Hunnigan helps out, and Leon watches as his car is rebuilt and he's told to drive out into formation. Seven minutes. Seven minutes is all he can— he sounds like Wesker right now. At least he placed fifth. It's not too hard to race past others. If he plays his cards right, he should be... safe. At the very least, he should be able to force others into a corner as promised.

The first handful of laps are fine. He manages to race past to third place, steering steady, car completely overtaking them as he gains on second. That's all that matters. His car is doing fine, and Hunnigan hasn't told him anything. Then, by the time he's steadied his spot, it's become apparent that the car has an issue. He speaks up, radio button pressed on his end.

"Hunnigan, car feels unsteady."

"Box—"

You put a hand on her to stop her.

"Fall back." You pull at her mic, eyes still on your screen. "Car's overheating. Don't box yet."

Hunnigan nods. You don't mean to overtake her, but it takes too long to get her to tell Leon, and you watch as Leon falls back in the race, still keeping his position in front of the majority of the cars. He's already placing better than he has before. He's aiming for first, but you're aiming to get him out of it alive. You don't want another incident of the car spinning and crashing. The halo was a saving grace, but it wasn't something you wished to rely on. It doesn't matter if he wanted his car customized so that he could overtake and drive even more aggressively. You understand he's aiming to one-up Ada since she should be rusty, but you're not letting him hurt himself.

"You sure?" Hunnigan raises a brow.

"You make the call, but the vitals are all steady. The engine's overheating right now. The wheels can hold out for at least two more laps. They don't have any required pit stops this race."

"Got it."

"Twelve more seconds, and then get back to us to see if it's better." You nod at Hunnigan, back to watching the numbers. Leon falls back behind the other cars, and you keep an eye on the car as the engine cools down.

"Still unsteady."

"Box." Hunnigan orders.

"Pit crew on standby." You speak into the mic, watching as the car moves through the circuit to get to the pit. "Five seconds!"

Pit crew stations themselves as Leon drives in, and Hunnigan nods at the numbers. You keep an eye on the screen as he speeds back off. The numbers have returned to normal, and depending on the feel that Leon gets out on the road, you can rest easy for another handful of laps.

"It's good now."

"Got it."

You sit back in the seat watching as Leon races past the people who had left him behind, shooting past two cars as he returns to the top seven. You wonder if he can race past another four, but it seems that he's alright, forcing himself past another car as Hunnigan tells him his DRS is active. He flies past another one on the curve as he huffs.

"Tell that performance engineer that I'm gonna get my stupid car fixed for the next race."

"Leon, focus on the road." Hunnigan sighs.

It doesn't take long for Leon to be back for another pit stop, this time on your command, his tires worn out too fast, changed into something slightly harder as he races off again. You wonder if that's enough. It should be. You watch for the rest of his car as he enters the final leg of the race, third place returned to him after the pit, his driving growing increasingly more aggressive. You're glad you gave him harder tires, and you watch as he goes neck to neck with Krauser makes you amused. Krauser doesn't respond well, nearly forcing him into the wall as Leon falls back. You're glad Hunnigan makes the call, and Leon takes third place behind Krauser for the safety of himself.

You watch as Leon finishes up on his side of the race, top three tucked under his belt as he slows and parks in third, hopping off his car with a wink and kiss blown at Ada. You raise a brow at the broadcast, headphones retired to your neck as his car is checked. You didn't make any changes that were illegal, the other engineers made sure of it, so you watch as Leon races over to the team. You step to the back of the team, Hunnigan smiling at you, and you hum. Another win for the team.

You adore Ada, but truly, she was the only good thing in Wesker's company. Luis was only there to be the face card when Ada wasn't present, and though he placed top ten always, he never placed on the podium. You're impressed that Leon managed to place, and over the cheering, you hear Leon yell a "thank you" followed by "Ingrid" and you hold a laugh back.

"First name, eh?"

"Leon." She sighs.

Oh, right. You should get to those edits as soon as the podium high wears off from Leon. You still need to know what he needs adjusted. It wouldn't be surprising if he wanted something that his old car has that he's used. You almost laugh at yourself for how work-brained you are despite placing on the podium, but after growing used to Krauser on the podium, you're kind of unsurprised. You have faith in the team. Besides, with Ada back, it wasn't like Krauser could really place... first anymore.

The team's win is celebrated how you expect it to be, champagne popped and alcohol thoroughly passed around, and you stay for a little to thank the pit crew and engineers, settling for the corner of the room when you finish, water in hand, telling people that it was tequila. The water is cool against your lips, and you watch as the rest of the team parties. You're sure you'll be getting random confessions from random people if the night progresses any further. You really only talk to Leon, though. It doesn’t matter.

When debriefing finishes, you press your mug to your lips, blinking at the numbers as you watch Hunnigan speak. There's going to be a change in... race engineer? It's surprising to you, and you do a double take as it's announced that Krauser has left the team. He paid the fine? Who even— oh. You blink at the announcement that he's been moved to Plaga. Ah. One of their investors, who was it again, the Salazars? They must have paid the fine. Krauser is always looking for more money anyway.

"Which brings us to the point. We are moving up Helena Harper, our best F2 racer this past season. Hunnigan will become her race engineer, and we are moving up our performance engineer for Leon to race engineer."

"What." You blink at the screen, blood running cold. You did not sign up for this promotion. Highly unprofessional of them, but it does explain why you had been called into a meeting last morning with everyone else. Hunnigan had hinted at it, and you had said you'd be okay with taking the position if it came to it. You didn't realize it meant that you would be promoted on the spot. God, now you have to work with a whole new performance engineer that isn't yourself. You might die.

You hear Leon groan in the back.

Helena is coming as the new driver. That’s truly all you pick up outside of your own complaints, and you sigh. You're not excited for your own training. You understand all of the numbers that Hunnigan sees on the weekends, but it doesn't mean you like it. She doesn't need to make that many calls with Leon during the race because it seems that he's been racing alright, but you know from the role of managing the car that Leon wears the car down fast. The calls you'd have to make would be arguably more frequent. Well, not that Hunnigan was doing a bad job. She left a lot of the strategy to Leon. You probably wouldn't. The look in Leon's eyes when he thanked Hunnigan might've been gratuity, but he hungers for more... what in the wattpad bullshit are you saying? Leon wanted to be better. He craves the seat of winner after his years of publicity with Ada. It doesn't take a genius to know. It's why he swapped over to Stratcom.

"You gonna help me win?"

"I don't know, Leon. Will I?"

"You have to."

"Won't motivate me if I don't get something in return. You get paid glorious amounts of money and I get little when compared to you."

"You want a cut of my pay?"

"Nah." You grin. "I'll tell you what this greed of my craves after each race. Don't worry. Won't ever ask for more than ten percent of your salary."

Leon grimaces. Ten percent is still quite the cut.

"Won't ask for money. I'll let you pick eventually." You hum. "For the next race, a dinner in Italy."

"Sure you not asking me out on a date?"

"In your dreams, white boy."

Leon shrugs, offering his hand anyway.

You shake his hand on the offer.

Wednesday rolls around and you're flown over to Monza, Italy. Preparation on Thursday throws you in for a loop, blinking harshly in the morning meeting with the people and debrief on all of the new changes. Leon's changes had been implemented, and Helena had a new vehicle as well, which makes you question just how much they were stacking on Helena. Is it equity? You're not going to ask. The red-eye flight is enough to make you grouchy. You don't enjoy the hours, coffee in hand as you wonder if you should just invest in espresso shots.

At the very least, you get through the morning meetings and understand Leon's god-awful adjustments on his car. You need to watch him practice tomorrow. Leon's in on Thursday in the morning, visible grouch on his face when he lands, and you sigh as you wave at him.

"No paparazzi?"

"It's why you take red-eyes." You yawn, beckoning him over with a wave as the two of you step over to the chauffeur.

"Why'd you pick me up personally?"

"Saw the edits made to your car. Need your approval. They sent me over with a tablet connected to the PC. Take a look."

Leon looks at the numbers, brow raised as he blinks at the photos that are on the tablet, frowning at the wheel.

"They didn't make it how I wanted it."

"That's literally what you were describing."

"No." He frowns. "Button placement. The reason Hunnigan and I were barely talking was because I kept pressing the wrong button. My muscle memory can only go so far."

"We have a dummy, so you can practice with that. We'll move buttons around next race. You told the performance engineer, right?"

"I don't understand why he didn't understand I wanted the button down at the bottom."

"He's new. Cut him some slack." You pause. "Or don't. You're the driver."

The two of you hop off as you thank the chauffeur, and you wave Leon goodbye as you beeline to the back. You're kind of glad you don't need to look at all of the statistics for performance, but you're also not happy that you have to do all of the smiling and chatting with Leon. Well, unhappy wouldn't be correct. Leon's just got an ego big enough to blow up the track, that's all. You'll help him place. You're not paid nearly enough for anything else. You help out the team with checking the stats on the car, and Leon lingers in the back for the track walk. You told him to wait, and both of you are fairly surprised he listened.

You make some final edits as Leon watches, and he has his own input, pointing certain things out and asking why some other things were that way, and the other engineers explain to him as you talk to the mechanics. Most of the edits are approved by Leon, and you have him sit in to have a feel at it, and once his concerns are all solved, he gives the approval nod. You give him a thumbs up back, checking the stats from the previous year to start thinking of strategy. The strategy engineer hands you a file for you to read through, and you sigh.

"Relay that to me."

"Track walk!" You call for Leon.

You read through the strategy while out on the walk with Leon, looking through the booklet as you pause to consider how much of this Leon would actually use.

"Are you planning on listening to us? Or is it going to be your own again?"

"Do you think I should?"

"Shouldn't you be asking the strategist?"

"You're the one in the mic."

"Fair." You hum. "Do you want to place?"

"Your job is to help me place."

"Then, you keep it in the back of your mind while driving. Changes can always happen." You hum. "We'll aim for first, but don't chase someone down at the expense of your own car."

"How can I force Ada into it?"

"She's gonna pit only once if the race allows it." You hum. "She knows how to take care of her car."

"And Krauser?"

"Plaga offered him more money. His driving style will be the same, but it's also worth mentioning that the Plaga cars aren't in top shape. You know how they are."

"Stars?"

"Not your problem unless you somehow fall neck to neck with Redfield." You shake your head. "He's the beast of fifth place. Just use him as a guard dog."

"That's a little—"

"It's rude, but it's the truth." You flip through the book, jumping on the track. "We'll send you in medium tires, and you'll probably stay in medium unless you want soft."

"Probably not." Leon shakes his head. "Are we pitting extra?"

"From your performance, most likely."

Leon clicks his tongue.

"Focus on chasing and pushing others into pit stops. Second place... just keep an eye out for anyone else in the back." You pause. "You can also try defensive with Helena."

"The two car drs defense."

"Yep." You glance at the turn. "No rain prediction for tomorrow."

"Alright." Leon raises a brow. "In the case that there is rain, it's baby for light rain, royal for heavy downpour."

"And medium?"

"It's a gradient. Just tell me a shade of blue between it."

"That's a lot of colors." You hum. "Storm is midnight."

"Got it."

"Time..." You pause. "How insane are you willing to sound to the public?"

"I'm already crazy to them."

"Then, instead of colors, we use HSL."

"God, you're crazy." Leon pauses. "Saturation for time and Luminance for position? Color's always going to be blue."

"Yeah. You able to learn that before a rain race?" You raise a brow. "We can draw a chart."

"Better start using it soon. There's no wind here but we can practice in downtime."

Fp1 and Fp2 run fast for Leon. He's adjusted to the wheel, dialing in to you to speak, telling you how the car feels, and you report it to the rest of the engineers. Adjustments are made as he goes for another two laps, thumbs up given as everyone retires for the night. You flip through the strategies from the engineers as you sit in the hotel bar lounge, drink pressed to your lips as you mark through the file.

"Fancy seeing you here."

"Leon." You raise a brow. "I thought you had a house here."

"Under construction." He hums. "What's a hotel stay for me on my salary, though?"

"Yeah, I can see that." You hum. "You ready for quali?"

"How long are you staying after? For that dinner."

"Two days? I fly out shortly after."

"Figured." He pauses. "Will you pay if I place first?"

"If you place first? Sure." You hum. "Team goes out on a dinner anyways. I just wanted a local place since you're from around here."

"I stay with family when I'm in Italy, yeah. Maybe I'll take you to my nonna's place."

"Bringing me home already? Bold move, Kennedy." You smile.

"If I place first, we're going to nonna's."

"What makes you think I wanna meet your grandma?"

"Am I not hot enough for you?"

You eye him, shaking your head. "Too bad you're not my type."

Leon does well. He always does. You take him to third place, halfway into the Grand Prix in Italy, and Leon clicks his tongue.

"When are we pitting?"

"You need to pit?" You raise a brow. "What's losing control?"

"Nothing. I'm calculating whether or not it would be smart for me to start cornering Krauser and force him to retire."

You can practically hear the venom in Leon's voice.

"FIA's going to beat your ass if you actually pull through."

"Stratcom's known for aggression. Yes or no?'

"If you do, you need five seconds from him to pit."

"Copy that."

You watch as Leon chases Krauser in the back, tail catching dangerously close as DRS activates, sending him soaring past Krauser.

"Got it."

"Good job."

Leon gains a ten-second lead over thirteen laps, and you listen to Leon and his words.

"How's the car?"

"Seems alright."

"If we need to pit, you have the time too. Keep going. Eleven behind, four in front."

"Leave it to me." Leon clicks.

You watch as Leon goes neck to neck with Ada, eyes on the road as he barely squeezes past her in a corner, foot on the gas.

"Two second gain."

"Need more." He grumbles. "Mic off. Call for pit only."

"Received."

Despite the banter that Leon seems to offer you outside of the car, you know better than to hit his buttons while he's in a car racing two hundred miles an hour. You keep and eye on it, all channels to you open, waiting for the word to pit. Leon's done an alright job, and he's already boxed once, but it seems to be fine to just let him keep going. You're not to pressed, and it seems the performance engineer isn't all that much either. You catch a quick glance, and nothing sits in the red. That's fine.

"Do you think I can keep first?"

"You're Leon S Kennedy. If it's gonna be anyone, it'll be you." You hum. No harm in some words of encouragement.

"That's what I like to hear, sweetheart."

You blink with a concerned look on your face, and you watch as Ada closes in on Leon. His car's wearing down by staying in first, and though his car seemed to have been doing fine, a pit stop in the next handful of laps wasn't out of the question.

"Push two more laps then box. Ada behind one second."

"Son of a—"

You watch as Leon's cut off, and you hold back a laugh.

"Don't get too cocky, Kennedy." You hum. "Tail behind. Twenty laps left."

"Roger."

Leon circles two more laps before circling back to the pit, full change as he's told to go rogue.

You're sure you've never seen Leon actually drive how he wants to, and he combines with Helena to ward off the rest of the cars before racing into the final ten laps with a bolt, gaining distance behind Ada as he's on the final three laps. You're surprised he even knows how to drive defense.

"Time."

"Three laps. 2.4 seconds behind Ada."

Leon tries speeding past her, cutting corners and trying to wear her car down, but it's to no avail as she cuts him off each time. Nothing's called because no rules are broken, and the two touch wheels at once point. The rest of the engineers watch the race with their breaths held as they make the final lap, and Leon grows increasingly more frustrated, curses flying through the radio as he tries overtaking again, cut off as Ada swerves.

"Fuck!"

"You got this, Leon. You're placing podium no matter what. Just focus on overtaking. You got this." You read. "One second. DRS active."

Leon barely squeezes past Ada on a corner, grumbling as he presses on the gas. His car gains only a little over Ada’s but it’s the finish line, so it doesn’t matter.

He breaks past the finish line first just barely first, front of his car ahead mere centimeters. The rest of the team cheers as you smile at the screen, lips quirked up. You get why Hunnigan enjoyed this job. The adrenaline from winning could be addicting. You tap your cheek as you're pulled in for a hug, and you laugh. Your head is spinning with too much dopamine for you to be able to cheer or yell. It's too loud for that.

"Beautifully done, Leon."

"Thanks. Thank you for your hard work."

"Pleasure's mine."

You pop off the headphones and disconnect to cheer, racing over where Leon has parked, jumping with the rest of the team as Leon spots you in the crowd, jumping over to you with a yell as you barely catch him, caught off guard. The rest of the engineers hold you up as you stumble, and he runs back to Helena. Helena laughs as Leon cheers. You clap for him as everyone settles down for the podium. Awards are given, and Leon shakes his champagne to spray at Ada, much to her complaints.

"You asshole!" She sprays her own back at him.

"Hey!"

The media goes insane over it. It's normal for them to. People drink up every single interaction between the two, and the two of them feed into whatever fantasies people have. When half of Leon's bottle is gone, it's pointed at you instead, and you hold your hands up to cover your face from Leon's champagne, and he sticks his tongue out at you. You yell in response, and the rest of the bottle bubbles out on its own. Leon's hair is sticky with champagne, shaking his head as the water flies everywhere, laugh on his lips as his smile lines are evident, head thrown back in glee with the trophy in his hands.

"You good?" Hunnigan laughs as you groan.

"I need to shower now."

She purses her lips. "Insanely hilarious back and forth between the two of you, by the way."

You stay back for a while for autographs, raising a brow when a fan presents marriage papers to you as a joke, shrugging as you ask him how much he makes in a year.

Leon steps up behind you, taking the papers.

"Not enough."

"Oh, hey, star of the show." You raise a brow. "He didn't even get to answer."

"Nonna wants you for dinner."

"Tonight? What about your afterparty?"

"Italian tradition. Always gonna be nonna's on Sunday night." He signs the back of the marriage papers instead, forcing the pen back into your hand as you raise a brow. "I'll be every year from now on. Come on."

"What?"

"We're getting married."

"In your dreams, white boy." You pull out a notepad, signing it and handing it to the fan.

"Kennedy's a nice last name, hm?"

"I like mine as is." You wave. "I'm retiring."

"Leon! What's that about Nonna?"

"Taking my engineer for a nice dinner." Leon hums, winking at the crowd. "Promised dinner at. my favorite place if I placed. Favorite place happens to be my beloved nonna's."

They cheer.

Leon laughs. "Victory celebrations with a friend."

Dinner is great. You're thrilled when Leon's grandma actually cooks, eyes practically glowing as you thank her. Leon translates the majority of the time, telling you with red on his ears of how she's delighted that he's brought one of his engineers home finally. You answer any questions she has, and she tells you that her father used to be an engineer, and how Leon's grandfather used to take him to his go-kart practices. You listen intently, her pasta shoveled in your mouth as she helps you to another offering.

"Nonna."

"Nonna speaks french too, if you happen to know that."

"Grand-mère ta cuisine est le vrai MVP de cette cours." You give her a thumbs up, hand held over your mouth as she laughs.

"T'es trop mignionne!" She laughs. "Merci, chère fille."

'You're too cute!' 'thank you, sweet girl'

"Merci pour cuisiner." You thank her. "Ah, je vais retourner l'année prochain."

'thank you for cooking.' 'Ah, I'm coming back next year'

"Léon, sarà meglio che sia la fidanzata l'anno prossimo." The grandma points her fork at him.

"Nonna!"

She clicks her tongue.

You don't have the heart to tell Leon that you understand just enough Italian to understand what his grandma has just said to him. You'll play dumb. Arguably, it's for the better. You tilt your head as Leon waves his hand, and you laugh.

Leon takes you back to the hotel, smile on his face as he raises a brow.

"You owe me dinner?"

"Nuh uh. We didn't pay at mamie's." You shrug. "Look forward to what I'll get for helping you in next race."

Your debrief in the morning is enough to tear you from limb to limb.

"I'm not flirting back. It was just a congratulatory dinner." You argue.

"It's fine." Leon laughs. "I don't mind."

"Leon."

"My publicity is being a fuckboy. It's fine." He waves off the concern. "Rather than media stuff, I want my mic somewhere on top on my wheel."

"That can be arranged."

"Anything else?"

You note down what Leon says, doodles in the corner of your paper as you think of all the work that the data analysts are doing. You're exhausted from staying out til two with Leon last night, and though the pasta had been Michelin star-worthy, you were still tired. You yawn halfway through, and Leon raises a brow at you.

"You got a problem, racer?"

"If you call me that one more time I'm going to reach over this table and punch you." You grumble.

The season is always nightmare after nightmare. You have little to no downtime in between races, and it becomes increasingly apparent that Ada's adapted to Leon's racing style in the next two races. No matter what adjustments are made, it seems that she just knows. It frustrates his engineers to no end, and by the meeting three races into the season, your head is thrown back in annoyance. Maybe you actually aren't being paid enough for this.

"Don't wanna work for me anymore?"

"No." You groan. "Give me a second."

Leon's trying. You're aware of that. You're also Ada's biggest fan, so you know well that she's one of the quickest thinkers on the grid alongside her engineer. Wesker has way too many years both on and off the track to know what calls to make at what points in time. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you are stuck questioning whether or not someone with more experience could do better than you, but you're also too spiteful to just step down from your position.

"Ada marathon. Tonight. My hotel room." You point at Leon.

"Don't need to tell me twice." Leon winks.

"That's 144 races." The strategy engineer grimaces.

"Then 144 races we will watch." You sigh. "I'll report everything to you tomorrow over coffee."

"Good luck." He sighs. "We can split half and half."

"72 races is still... a lot." You pause. "How about three-way?"

Leon sighs. "48 races per person sounds awful."

"Well, I know what I'll be doing tonight." You heave. "God, I need a smoke."

Leon raises a brow. "You don't even smoke."

"Gonna start today thanks to you."

"You're on 24 races from when she first started and then 24 of her most recent races." You point at the strategist. "I'll do the ones between that, and then Leon can do the middle races. We'll split it when the meeting's over."

"Got it."

The rest of the meeting runs over the logistics of the car, and you huddle with the other two to split up the races. You feel like a... Haikyuu character. Who are you? Oikawa? You're not trying to catch a case of being the worst anime villain to ever exist or something. You're sure this is normal. Ada may have never brought up how she prepares for races, but it doesn't take a genius to know how well-rounded she is on the track. She's too good at blocking overtakes. It's why Leon struggled. He may have been able to do it the first time because she had been caught off guard, but she was too good at what she did.

You note down how she drives, hands delicate on her wheel and eyes constantly on the watch. You listen to what Wesker tells her, noting everything of worth down, and you sigh when you watch the races she first started against Leon. You find that Leon's grown much more tame in racing, his earliest racing style wild and violent, cornering people into walls and blocking overpasses. You find that he blocks Ada at one point, leading to his first win of that season. After that, it becomes apparent that he only needs to pass Ada, preferably when she pits. Ada used to pit twice rather than once. Maybe that was the strategy needed.

You take the note down.

Pit crew speed ↑ + Leon aggression ↑ = stopping Ada?

You start the next race.

There's something about Leon's old way of driving that Ada wasn't able to control.

An element of chaos? An element of a lack of understanding? An element of unpredictability? You don't know. You should study Leon's old driving style prior to joining Stratcom as well. It's always much more suffocating in a bigger company when you get to take more risks in a small one. You raise a brow at the race that Leon and Ada trade first and second like it's second nature, and you get where this whole publicity stunt started. It's hard to ignore the way they look at each other with such intensity when they're on the podiums and listening to each other talk.

You place a hand over your mouth. "...wait... I dig this."

You go back to the rest of Ada's races prior to her hiatus, and you find that it's truly the lack of predictability that Leon used to display.

Never let 'em know your next move... or something.

You knock out halfway through and finish the rest in the morning with your coffee, lack of new things to note down as you head down for breakfast with the other two.

"So?"

"You go first." You sigh. "Mike?"

"Sorry. I stayed up way too late." He sighs. "She's an all-rounder. I don't have any notes other than that. She struggled at first in her first twenty races but by her thirtieth she was picking up pace and analyzing her opponents. It's kind of impressive. But her most recent races indicate that Leon's just not posing a threat. It seems that she can just predict everything."

"You wanna hear my takeaway?" You raise a brow. "Leon needs to start racing like a madman again. That's my takeaway."

"No way." Mike reasons. "That's not safe for him."

"It's the only way Leon's gonna be able to outperform Ada within the rest of the year for that position of champion." You reason. "If he doesn't go back to that unpredictability factor he used to have, then he'll never outsmart Ada."

"Oh, so I need to go rogue again? Because I was going to say that Ada struggles with predicting people who don't have a typical race strat." Leon hums. "She struggled with predicting Wesker before he became her boss. She struggles with unpredictability. I just have to throw her off enough. She's never going to expect me to go back to driving like a madman now that I'm in Stratcom."

"Upper management's going to be mad if we waste all our resources on you." Mike clicks his tongue.

"They won't complain when I bring back their first gold in forever."

"Mike, you keep it under wraps, alright?" You raise a brow. "Just proceed as normal."

"Not that they'd believe me anyway." He gets up from his chair. "I'll leave it to you two. I'll send you a plan anyway. I don't expect either of you to follow it."

You give him a thumbs up.

"If we place podium, what do you want?"

"Oh, you still remember?" You raise a brow. "What even is there to do in Texas? Oh. Dinner again?"

"If I place first your treat."

"Alright. I doubt that."

"You really?"

"I don't know. You've gotta show me, Kennedy."

Leon places fifth in qualifying. You're unsurprised, but what comes as a surprise is Leon telling you through the mic that he has it under control. All you need to do tell him when to pit. You suppose that it's a lot more amusing this way, but mic off or not, you have not much of a choice when Leon's just straight up shredding his tires.

"Box, box. Pit, Leon." You grumble. "You're only allowed to be crazy when I give you the flag."

"I know what I'm doing."

"No the fuck you don't." You hum. "You're losing time if you're the only one shredding your tires. Learn to force others into the pit and not yourself, hm?"

"I can't force Ada into the pit unless she's right in front of me."

"It can be anyone in front of you. Surely you've picked up a thing or two from all those youtube videos."

"You make me sound so unprofessional by saying that."

"Pit crew." You click the button.

Leon slides in and out, gaining back his position in top five.

"Alright. Tell me how to."

"You know how to. You used to do it."

"Say less."

Leon forces past the car in fourth in arguably one of the most narrow turns you've ever seen, grimacing at the view from his car as he laughs into the mic.

"Did you catch that?"

"I'd like to catch something bigger. Keep pushing."

"Tsk. Was that not enough?"

"You can do better."

"Roger that."

You watch as Leon slides through, and you glance at the weather.

"Rain in twenty laps."

"Color."

"I'd say something like sky blue. Sky blue, 6 percent, two c west." You read from the prediction. "Do you think you'll need wet tires?"

"Sky blue, huh? Probably not. We'll see. How many left?"

"Thirty."

You know the announcers are going to say something weird about the weather system you've set up, but quite frankly you do not care. It's not your problem. Leon cuts into third, and you sigh into the mic. Time to let the poor guy do what he's been wanting to this whole time.

"Engage... chaos."

"Oh, I've been waiting for that one." He laughs, turning his mic off as he pushes, engine revving. Smoke comes out as a result, but the performance engineer doesn't mention anything of it. It looks normal from your end, and he swerves to cut off Krauser from second, no doubtedly laughing from the dopamine high his brain was experiencing.

"Reel it in, Kennedy. Don't sell yourself to Ada yet."

"Can I stay second?"

"Engine looks good." You read.

"Got it, sweetheart."

You make another face.

Yet, he stays steady for the majority of the race, cutting Krauser off without needing you to ask him to, forcing Krauser into a position that you're sure the poor guy is NOT going to like. Leon forces Krauser into corners and slowing down, defending his position of second while no one's close to him in the back.

"Redfield in fourth, 1.2 seconds— 0.7 seconds from Krauser. Push, Leon." You read.

"Don't need to tell me that twice."

Leon pushes past Krauser and leaves him to deal with Chris, racing to the front as he tries closing in the gap between him and Ada.

"Gap?"

"Twelve seconds. Come on, Kennedy."

"Rogue when arrived?"

"Wear her out."

"Roger that."

You wonder if Leon actually understands what you mean by wearing her out, but you don't question it too much. If he doesn't then he can just try speeding past her based on pure adrenaline. His car was adjusted to be able to hit 240 in optimal conditions, and you watch as the rain arrives.

"Wet on track?"

"Dry." He reports. "Not too much rain yet. Lap?"

"Fifteen left."

"Copy."

You watch the rain and predictions, pausing when you notice Leon's car isn't running as smoothly.

"Pit, pit. Box, Leon."

"What's my gain on Krauser?"

"Seven seconds."

"Tell pit crew not to mess this up."

"Copy."

Leon speeds in to the pit, changing in two seconds, speeding back out in order to gain back on Krauser.

"Lap."

"Twelve." You call. "Ada five seconds, Krauser five."

"DRS zone?"

"Overtake if possible."

"Taking the risk." Leon clicks open his DRS, speed increase wonderful for his car as he flies past Ada, slowing to block her immediately.

"Block or go?"

"Block for now. Go will be called soon."

"Roger that."

You know Wesker is seething in his seat right now. Ada may not be affected, but you're sure Leon playing rough is a pain in the ass for Wesker. So, you don't think it's out of the question for him to be ordering Ada to try new things. Luckily for you, you had watched enough of Wesker's races to understand what he like doing. Surprise or not, eventually you run out of cards to play. You happen to know the majority of his cards, so you have Leon block Ada every chance he gets, forcing her into a corner and forcing her to slow for her own safety. Ada values her life. Leon? Not as much.

"Leon, final lap. Push. Go rogue. Helena third."

"Music to my ears." He sings, pushing for a further gap as he gleams, turns growing ragged and tires shredding, sparks flying from the back of his car as you wince. The car seems to be fine, and as soon as he's past that checkered flag, your screen is ditched for a victory-yelling session with Mike and the rest of the team. It worked. Leon just had to push past Ada and force her to care for her own safety. It was like playing the perfect cards into your hands. It was beautiful.

"We did it!" Leon yells, and you laugh into the mic.

"Get to that parking spot, Leon. We'll meet you there."

"You're paying for dinner."

"Say less."

You opt for the back half of the team, Leon yelling and grabbing Mike as he yells, cheering. Leon lets out a borderline pornographic gasp as he pops his helmet off, shake of his head from the sweat and cry on his lips as he cheers. You wonder if that feeling ever gets old. All of the excitement left you as soon as you had run up, and as Leon cheers, you find it's amusing. You won't get tired of seeing Leon and Helena place on the podium, that's for sure. You wonder what Leon's going to ask for dinner.

You want barbecue. God, Texas barbecue sounds so good right now. Leon's trainer's going to say no but oh, god. You want a rack of baby back ribs.

"What's for dinner?" Leon raises a brow as you're pushed to the front, and you tap your chin.

"I could go for some ribs."

"God, my dietician's going to kill me— say less."

You wink at him, patting his shoulder and giving him a little push as he rushes over to the podium. Helena follows after as you yell her name, cheering. You're sure the team will be able to win Constructor's Championship as long as Luis doesn't suddenly decide to get astronomically better, but you're sure Leon's practically salivating at the idea of being world champion driver. Ada's held that title for longer than ever, but Leon's got an interesting gain in terms of points this year. He'd need... to place first a least a couple more times.

"So? How'd I do?"

"Fishing for compliments, aren't ya?" You raise a brow.

"Please?"

"Oh, so you know how to beg? I'm already paying. What else do you want me to tell you? You did great? Good job not getting yourself killed? Congrats on placing first, again?"

"It's like you don't love me." He sighs.

"Leon, we're coworkers."

"That go on dinner dates?"

"Are these considered dates?" You gasp. "I thought it was just regular company dinners."

"We already do that with the team monday nights."

You shrug. "I didn't realize I was so special to you, Leon." You feign. "You love me?"

He clicks his tongue. "You wish."

"See?" You laugh, thanking the waiter as he serves you both your dinners. "I love shitty chain dinners."

"Only way to celebrate the American life." He nods at the waiter.

"Well, your fault for being American." You shrug. "That income tax must be beautiful, huh?"

"I only live here because I don't wanna end up living some tiny ass place in Monaco. Why live close to the tracks when you can live in a mansion with my money?"

"Convenience." You bite at the rib in your hand, moan slipping past your lips. "God, I love meat."

Leon cocks up a brow that can only mean trouble, and you gape, horrified.

"NO."

"You could–"

"Leon fucking Kennedy!" You full name him.

"You could have my—"

"I'm leaving and calling the cops on you." You wipe your fingers as Leon yells.

"I didn't mean it." He stifles a laugh, snirking at you.

"I hate you." You roll your eyes, going back to the food. "In front of my salad?"

"Your ribs?"

"My baby?!"

But dinner's fine. It's always more than fine. Leon gives you bedroom eyes enough times for you to just play stupid, and when he sends you back to the hotel, he frowns at you until you roll your eyes and give him a kind pat on his shoulder. You're not feeding the tabloids when Leon's already got plenty of publicity from Ada and his rivalry. Rivalry? Romance? Situation..ship? It's not your problem. You're enjoying what you're getting out of the races. It feeds your ego just as much as it does his when he wins — not that you would tell him.

Besides, the relationship was truly just transactional — If you ignore the fact that Leon's got an ego when it comes to flirting with women. He simultaneously can not handle being flirted back with or getting rejected. His face card is lethal, sure, whatever, but you don't really want to compromise your position as his race engineer with the chances of dating. You're not losing your job over some guy. You're especially not losing it over the very man you're communicating with every single race. You don't plan on that ever happening, thanks.

"Ugh. Heat." You grumble, stepping out of the airport to catch your ride. Another week, another full mess of driving you have to deal with. Mike's strategy is handed to you on Thursday like clockwork, and you read through the file while on the walk with Leon. There isn't much to say. There's never too much to say. Though, Leon tells you a little about what he's planning to do. It's not exactly safe, but as long as he can pull it off, it's fine. You stare at the track and then raise a brow, tilting your head at the turns and then at the map.

"You good?"

"Leon, I'm going to suggest something a little bit on the dirty side of driving."

"Say less."

"Feed on that fear factor. No one's completely rid of it." You hum, smiling. "Side to side, corner to corner."

"Say less." He grins. "Is that how we're going to get there?"

"Krauser has no fear factor. You're just going to have to piss him off enough."

"And Ada?"

"Ada fears nothing." You close your eyes, stopping in your tracks to think. "Just keep playing her."

"What a gamble you make each time."

"If it doesn't work, then we go back to what Mike does. You've won quite a handful of first places over the year anyway. You're only... what? You're practically neck to neck with Ada."

"How many more races?"

"You're at 10 races first place and five races second and then like a handful of thirds. You're at like 329 points. Ada joined back mid-year, and the only other person with enough points to corner you would be Krauser, but he's only around 300? There's five races left, so if you place first another two to three times, there's no way anyone could catch up to you, guaranteed."

"So first is mine?"

"Until you hit that 400 point mark, no it's not." You shake your head. "Don't get cocky."

Qualifying goes incredibly well. Too well. Leon places fifth, and you hold your breath as you check the weather.

"We changed you to wet tires, but also, true blue, 10%, 6 mph west." You read. "Leon, don't get overly excited. You're not first place. The chances you get injured or get retired is higher than usual. The weather doesn't help."

"I'll be fine."

You have a feeling he won't be, but you don't speak up. If you somehow manage to affect Leon's confidence, then you'd be responsible for it. Instead, you opt for watching Leon the whole time, holding your breath when you're not reporting the changes in weather. It's the end of hurricane season, but it doesn't mean the rain can't pick up. The anxiety eats you out, and though you remain calm on the outside, you're ready to retire the car whenever.

"Leon, is it drying?"

"No."

"How's your grip?"

"It's alright."

Leon feels the car is fine. He's raced past from third to second, and as long as he presses past Ada, he can take that title this race. He could also place second once and then top five in another race, but he needs to take first to kill everyone's chances of champion. He'd rather die than lose to Krauser again. So, he swerves, refusing to slow down at a turn, engine sparking as he's sure that he's going to need to pit soon. It's fine. The floor is drying up, and though not completely dry, it's not road that's too hard to drive on.

He'll take first place.

That's how it's supposed to go. That's how—

"I'm losing grip." He curses, staring at the upcoming turn.

"Do you want to pit?" You raise a brow.

"Ye—"

You wince at the way he spins out of control, crashing into the wall. The back panel breaks off and the engine turns red on the performance engineer's screen, and you yell for Leon. The rain helps prevent a fire, but any more with the car and it'll be problematic. You were right. It's a vital race to Leon, but he has plenty of chances as long as Krauser doesn't place podium. Though, that doesn't matter. You value the life of your driver more than a title that he wants to receive. What's the point of holding a title if the person who holds it has died? You can't take any of that with you to the afterlife.

"Leon. Out of the car. We're pulling you out the race." Your heart races, waiting for his response.

"I need this win!"

"You don't. Any two of these five races, you get first place, and you become world champion. Your life matters more. Car is out of commission. Step out of the car. You only need fifty points."

He curses on the line, profanities stringing one after the other as he hops out of the car, walking off back to the garage as he grimaces at you. You offer him an unfortunate smile, and he sighs. He leans against the wall, brows furrowed as you turn around to stare at him.

"I don't like this."

"You got cocky."

"I don't need to hear that right now!" He snaps.

"And when will you be willing to listen? Tomorrow? When you're in a good mood? Leon, you can't go ahead and aim to shred a man to pieces because you need first place at your own expense. Your emotions affect how you drive. You're there to win with a level head. You're trying to stress others out, not yourself." You sigh. "We can go over what went wrong later, but are you hurt? The medics checked you before, I know, but surely the whiplash was quite a bit. Take my seat."

"And watch the rest of the cars?" He scoffs.

"You can cheer for Helena." You pop your headphones off, holding it out to him. "You're a team, after all."

He takes them from your hand, frown on his face as he puts them on, listening in to Hunnigan and Helena's conversation. It's quiet as he expects, a lot less quippy than his conversations with you. He watches the race with the rest of the team, surprised at how well Helena's holding her position. She might even place podium.

You stand behind Leon as Helena speeds around the course, and your lips quirk up as she enters the final lap. The rain has subsided by now, and Hunnigan's calls have left her nice and safe despite her reckless driving, and she's neck to neck with Krauser now.

"I forget how good she is." Leon mumbles.

"You work in a team of mostly women. You should keep that in mind for next time." You press your hands on his shoulders, leaning into the screen as you both hold your breath.

"Helena, push."

You don't get to hear her response to Hunnigan, but her activation of DRS immediately upon entering the zone sends her past Krauser and into second place. You're sure she's thrilled to be placing so high, and you hold your breath as the gap between her and Krauser increases, her racing past the finish line earning a yell from everyone on the team. Leon grabs you, yelling as you cheer. You doubt you've ever felt such excitement over Leon placing, but Helena placing was a milestone for her.

"P2, Helena! You did it! P2!"

You drag Leon as he runs over to meet up with Helena, pushing Hunnigan to the front as you cheer.

"Why aren't you ever this excited when I win?"

"Maybe I'll cheer properly for you when you win world champion. Krauser placed first, which means he always has the chance of beating you." You wave at Helena. "Congrats!!"

"Never thought he'd come back to bite my ass." Leon grumbles. "Great job."

"Thank you." She nods. "You all good?"

"Just a little whipash." Leon sighs. "I'll be all good by next race."

You look away. Not by next race. His next handful of races are NOT going to be a pleasant experience. If he's careful, he might be able to recover by the second race, but if not, then the third or fourth. He only has four races left.

"I didn't place this time." He mumbles, groaning into his hand as you pat his back.

"You can place third four times, and you can place fourth three times and once in third. Leon, you have all the time in the world. You need to heal your whiplash first."

He grimaces.

Leon follows after you, clicking through his phone as he scrolls through twitter. It's a lot about the race results, most of them congratulating Helena, and as he reaches for his own name, you call for him.

"Let's go." You raise a brow. "Your emotions are still a mess. Don't you go reaching for Twitter first thing after a race. You wanna die?"

"They're congratulating Helena."

"Never search your name after a race." You take his phone, earning a yell from Leon as you stick your tongue out.

"What are you? Twelve?"

"I should be asking you that question." You hum. "We're off to our hotel."

"Wait, why are we—"

"Room service and then we can rewatch the race. I know you're itching to tell me what you did wrong."

"I am not." He huffs.

You raise a brow.

"Okay, I am." He rolls his eyes. "You're gonna listen?"

You get back and tell Leon what you want, stepping into the shower to wash off the grime of the day. You ask if Leon wants to grab his stuff and clean himself off, but he shakes his head at you. Until he got what he remembered out of his mind, then he would continue in whatever he was in. Though, he pulls the jacket off and ditches the shoes. You finish washing off to ask Leon if he's ordered, and he nods. He'd pay upfront with his card, which makes you raise a brow and offer to pay instead, but he insists. You don't understand why he'd go so far after literally losing a race.

Leon orders for you. He finds that it's safer for a guy to at least pretend he's staying with a woman than for the woman to be known to be staying alone, and he has you tell him what to order, bringing it to your room. You thank him for ordering, laptop pulled out as Leon points at what felt like it lost control, and you draw on the screen, taking note on what to fix at the next meeting. The car didn't do good in rainy weather, it seemed. At the very least, Vegas wouldn't have all that much rain. Then, back to the other side of the world, where the lack of rain was more than apparent. Leon would be fine in the rest of the races.

"Do you want these changes immediately? The car will be driving dry the next couple of races." You look up at the door when it's knocked on.

You thank the concierge for bringing it in, and Leon pays and tips, nodding as the guy walks off.

"He's gonna tell the media about this later." You go back to the laptop. "So? The changes?"

"Yeah, I figured." Leon sighs. "It's fine. Your laptop was out with all of the data of our old car. Stratcom's just going to say we were discussing details again."

"Or they'll pay him off." You reach for a fry, chewing on it as you hum. "You want the changes now?"

"Can I have one?"

"You paid." You hold the fries up to him.

"Thanks. No, I don't think we need to implement it right away, but for the next year, maybe. It'll be raining a lot in the earlier seasons."

"We can bring it up to the others." You tilt your head at the screen. "I'll save it, then. I think your mic could be clearer too. We can adjust that tomorrow. You should also lay down."

"You think?"

"Leon, that whiplash is going to kill you." You raise a brow. "Also, get eating. It's dinnertime anyway."

"You're awfully bold bringing a man into your hotel room, you know?"

"Thanks, if you wanna sexually assault me or something at least wait another two weeks." You shrug, biting into your food. God, mexican food after a whole day of work hits different. Though, you'd argue that the pasta you had with Leon at his nonna's was better. You don't really care of Leon in that way. You're his race engineer, he's just asking for trouble if he suddenly decides that it'd be smart for him to ask you out in any way. He'll call you sweetheart on a good day, but that does not guarantee that he will every race. You doubt he actually likes you.

Leon, on the other hand, finds it strange that you go to such lengths for him. Well, not that off. You're supposedly known by the other employees as someone who works harder than the rest, so it was unsurprising to them when you had suddenly been promoted to one of the higher-ranked engineers. Though, Leon finds it annoying that he can't seem to get through to you. What does it take for you to give him some attention? Though, not that you seem to think of him as a man anyway. It's unsafe for you to be showering and then letting him just sit in your room. Had he been any more of an asshole, he might've actually done something.

Yet, he watches you anyway. His eyes stay on your body when you tell him that you'll be knocking out for the night, telling him that he's welcome to continue with your laptop as long as he stays in the room. Unbothred. Uncaring. You seem to not take Leon seriously at all. It almost hurts his ego to be treated like this.

You fear nothing.

You can not tell when he gives you darkened eyes, climbing on top of you as you're knocked out, eyes glued to your body. You can not sense whatever danger he might present to you. Are you close to that extent? Truly? Are you two friends enough to the point that he is just allowed to do this? You must not value yourself enough. He's a man too. Do you not care?

He tilts his head at you, watching as you continue to breathe steadily, eyes closed and chest rising and falling.

He has caged you down, yet all you do is sleep.

Leon sighs. "How easy."

He climbs off of you, turning off your laptop and plugging it in for you, stepping over your clothes as he glances at you one last time. He leaves his jacket on the back of the seat, shoes slipped back on as the door clicks behind him. He could ask you in the morning. Maybe he should teach you a lesson while he's at it. You should really be vigilant around him. Had you made the mistake around anyone else, they might've jumped you already.

You wear Leon's jacket to the meeting in the morning.

It's draped over whatever you would normally wear, and Leon does a double take when you actually show up in it.

On second thought, maybe you were asking for him to do something.

You go about the meeting, telling a coworker that you found it in the team lost and found, smile on your lips as you go over what adjustments would be made for the next time. You decide on which tire material to use on the ground, and there isn't much else to go over. The United States tended to have alright weather, though, it would be colder in the morning which was when he would be racing, His uniform was alright to wear, and you raise a brow at Leon to ask if he has any questions.

"Where'd you get my jacket?"

"Alright, no flirting on company time."

You laugh at the superior, humming as the rest of the meeting runs smoothly. You hand the jacket back to Leon eventually, thanking him for it, and Leon watches as half of the room pauses to stare at you both. If you notice, you're ignoring it. Leon takes it from you with a wink, throwing it over his own shoulders, raising a brow when you shrug. He doesn't like the feeling that creeps up his back when he talks to you now. It feels strange. It feels weird.

Images of your restful face haunt him at night.

Even during qualifying, gambling city of the nation, all that keeps him up at night is you.

He settles with flirting with you instead, drinking up every single way you cringe at him, disgust audible when he's talking to you over the mic during fp3, earning raised brows from the team as you resist the need to groan into your hand.

"He's gotten a lot more vocal with you." Mike tunes in.

"I'm going to punt this man into the sky." You turn off your mic to Leon.

"Sweetheart, is the car alright?"

"Nothing from the team." You report. "You should be good to go. Keep an eye out on the weather tomorrow."

"Will you nurse me back if I get sick?"

"No, I'll just pull you from the team." You grimace, disgust written all over your face as the engineers next to you laugh — Leon parking into the garage as he pulls off the helmet, raising a brow at you. "Stop fishing for compliments, Kennedy."

He pushes himself out of the car, huffing.

"Lunch?"

"I want Chipotle."

"God, I love Chipotle," Leon mumbles, handing you his phone.

You punch in your order, telling him to just text you after, heading off to the meeting before qualifying. You're not excited. You're never excited. You sit in the room and talk to everyone, and once you leave the room, the stress will be significantly less. You'll talk to everyone and figure out the general plan, tell them what you plan on having Leon do alongside Mike and get approval. Once it's approved, you tell them that it's subject to change in order to adapt to the plan, and Mike hands you another heavy file of information about Ada's recent races.

"We're just going to ignore Krauser?"

"Leon's raced against that man plenty." Mike sighs, opening the door. "Oh, speak of the devil."

"Chipotle's here." He smiles, holding up your order as your eye twitches. In front of management is insane.

"You just really wanted to show management how much I've been abusing you, huh?" You raise a brow. "Come on. Let's find an area to cool down before quali."

"Don't need to tell me twice." He leads you around, your bowl steaming hot on top of the folder from Mike. You don't want to hear what the higher-ups have to say. If you do not see, then you do not know. Well, not that it matters. Leon has a strange reputation, and it's as though he has a dating history since starting F1. It's like they wiped him clean to start over. Oh, well, save for whatever he and Ada has going on.

"Hey." Leon grins.

Ada Wong sits on the couch across from you, and your jaw drops

"Oh my god." You fumble with your lunch, jaw-dropping. "THE Ada Wong?"

"Oh! Leon's wildcard!" She hums. "Come on! Let's eat."

You stare at Leon, and he shrugs.

"She wanted to join."

"Huge fan, wow." You mumble, putting the folder down as you open your lunch. "What brings you here? Or are you two just having lunch? Am I intruding?"

Ada laughs. "Don't worry about it. I bumped into him before he got to order. He owes me one anyway."

You give Leon a look that can only mean something along the lines of "did I walk in on you both" to which Leon responds with a shake of his head. You go back to your food, humming as you watch the television for time. Ada races before Leon this time, and honestly, you're kind of too thrilled to be having Chipotle to care. American food things. You can take the man out of the eagle screech but not the eagle screech out the man... or however it goes. What's a little... American spirit in the United States? You like the calm life you get to enjoy during the breaks where all you do is go on zoom meetings with everyone and talk about the car. What can you say? Laziness isn't a passion, it's a lifestyle. Though, you'd argue that being an engineer in F1 is a complete contradiction to the statement.

You finish as Ada looks at you, lips quirked upward amusingly as you raise a brow.

"You're doing great."

"God, I must be hallucinating." You grab Leon's thigh, fanning your face.

"You're my engineer and you're crying over a compliment from her?"

"She's my number one. My ult. My oshi, if you will. Dare I say it, my number one."

Leon raises a brow at all of those words, but Ada laughs, hand held over her mouth as she laughs into her palm, corners of her eyes crinkling from your boldness. She thanks you with a nod and a smile, telling you that she'll dedicate her win tomorrow to you.

"Oh, well, I never promised that win in your hands." You wink, lips quirked up as Ada blinks at your boldness.

"You think you can win again?"

"You called me a wildcard, Miss Ada." You smile. "You struggle with them yourself. We all do."

"Well, you're right on that." She smiles. "But you won't be able to predict me either, hm?"

"Hard to say." You wink. "A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one. Though, what use are cards in a game of firearms?" You grin. "Well, not that it matters. You can't win championship even if you win the next four. You know? You joined a little late."

"I know. But I can certainly push Krauser to the top. Anything to stop Stratcom from winning both titles."

"Well, apologies, but bringing a knife to a gunfight is a little outdated." You grin.

Ada laughs, pushing the door open. "See you both at quali."

"If I play dangerous, will you let me?" Leon looks up at you from the couch through his lashes.

"As long as you don't die or get retired, do as you wish?"

"Even if we get yelled at?"

"What's Stratcom without a little violence?"

Leon places third in q3.

It's not nearly as fast as he would've liked it to be, but it's fast enough, and when he's back after q3, he's tilting his head at you with those big-ass puppy eyes, vying for attention. You know he wants a compliment, but you raise a brow at him as he huffs. He knows you won't give him one unless he does so well that it's beyond what you expect from him.

"I'm not complimenting you, Kennedy."

"Dammit." He huffs. "If I win tomorrow, will you?"

"No." You hum. "Bring back that championship and then we can talk."

Leon sighs. "Can I have a kiss if I do?"

You raise a brow. "I thought it was I receive something?"

"A kiss." He shrugs.

"You wish." You roll your eyes. "I'll think about it if you win driver’s cup, and our team wins the constructor's championship."

"Oh, say less." He grins.

You wish you could say you despise Leon. You don't — truly. You find it entertaining to push his buttons the same way he pushes yours. You find it amusing when he tilts his head and begs for your attention. Twisted? Maybe. Entertaining? Very. Leon's not one to beg for attention. He's always the center of attention, so for him to want your attention gives you quite a glimpse into what kind of a person he is. Maybe you just bruise his ego. Though, not that you can feed it. If you feed it anymore, his head's gonna get so big that he floats away. It makes you laugh — the idea of Leon floating away with a big-ass head.

You set up for the screen after the meeting in the morning. Leon's allowed to go insane, and Mike has a plan in case Leon wants to try something new. Though, you're sure that won't be the case. You want Leon to try chasing the ever-living fuck out of someone. You want Leon to go insane, or whatever he liked calling it. Ada called you a wildcard, but truly, you could not come up with it on your own. Leon's the one who just makes stuff up on the fly.

Though, you want to have Leon pull off better skill.

So, when the first ten laps go by and Leon hasn't moved up, you huff.

"Cut through Krauser to break into second."

"Oh? Say less."

"Don't do anything too reck—"

You watch as Leon slides right through Krauser and the wall in one of the sharpest turns on the track, wincing as Leon doesn't bother braking, forcing Krauser behind him as he laughs into the mic. You sigh considering it was your fault, but you're glad he's at least broken through. Krauser may try and chase Leon down in the corners, but as long as he gets enough gain, it should be... feasible. Though, when the performance engineer mics in, you groan.

"Leon. Pit. Box, box. Puncture in back right tire."

"Dammit." He huffs. "Time loss estimate?"

"Five seconds behind Helena."

Leon pits and gets his tire changed, speeding off back into the track in eighth, huffing and pouting as he has to overtake so many people again.

"Overtake opening."

"Copy." Leon slides past two cars and gains on the inside. "Tell Helena to guard."

"Roger."

Leon flies past Helena, telling you to thank Hunnigan, and he tails behind Krauser again. He huffs, knowing that Krauser would probably just force him into the wall this time rather than brake, but you have other plans.

"Do the same thing."

"He's not going to brake."

"He will." You pause. "Think about it."

"He's got a wife and kids to go home to." Leon scoffs. "You're insane."

"Hey, you said it." You watch as he forces past Krauser just barely again, sparks flying from the back of his car as he pushes past, gaining distance and blocking him from any overtakes, laugh registering through his mic as you raise a brow.

"Don't get cocky now, Kennedy."

"Wouldn't dream of it with you on the line, sweetheart."

Halfway in, Leon finally gains on Ada, tailing right behind her as she closes in to stop him from passing, and Leon huffs. You don't speak to him, and none of the engineers call for a pit. You leave him alone to make the call. Ada can predict what both you and Mike call, but you're sure she isn't capable of predicting just what kind of a bullshit move Leon would be able to pull.

"Open DRS."

"Don't need to tell me twice."

Leon's a nightmare. You think Leon's a nightmare. He forces past her where he should have braked, forcing her into the same position as Krauser, wheels touching hers as you hold your breath for a pit, surprised when there's a lack of one.

"Are you open to pitting another time?"

"No." Leon hisses, blocking Ada on a corner, gaining the inside.

"Then take care of your tires."

"Copy."

You find that Leon doesn't really take any racer seriously outside of Ada. Maybe his thought process actually spins when he's defending first, his radio going quiet from all the banter that you had prior to this. He'll have his fill of it later when you have to pay for dinner, but it's not right now. Leon's too straightforward at this point of the race to even think what he's saying to you. Blessing or curse? Curse for you, blessing for his media team.

"Good gain. Ada two seconds behind."

"Praise me."

You laugh, humming as Leon repeats his request.

"Praise me."

"You're doing great, Leon. Push for five seconds." You hum. "I'll praise you more if you win."

"Say less."

You watch as he pushes even harder, muting yourself as you laugh at the way he goes quiet for the next five laps.

"Ten til completion."

"Roger that. Helena?"

"P3."

"Can she chase Ada for me?"

"Will request."

You mic over to Hunnigan to request Helena's aid in keeping Ada at bay, and she tells you she'll try. It's no guarantee considering how skilled Ada is, but it's worth the shot, definitely. Lots of factors play into how a race goes, but Ada hasn't pitted even once, and you assume it's because she wants to hold out against Leon for as long as possible. Though, she's already behind him. Maybe she's forcing him to wear his tires down.

"Leon, Ada upcoming pit. Push."

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?"

"You can do better."

"We better be chowing down on cheesecake factory after this."

"You want cheesecake factory?"

"Last of chain foods before two races in the two Eurasia." Leon huffs. "You're paying if I place first."

"What happened to chivalry?"

"Dead if I win this race."

"You know what? I hope you place second just so I don't need to pay—"

"Just tell me to kill myself at this point."

"Ada return. Gain 6.7 seconds. Final three laps." You report.

"Copy. Can I do doughnuts if I win?"

"Not for another two races." You click your tongue. "I'll take us for milkshakes tomorrow after the meeting if you place first."

"The good place?"

"Where else?"

"I don't know." Leon goes quiet, presumably to focus on the turns. "Lap count?"

"Last one." You hum. "Congrats on fastest lap."

"Maybe you're my lucky charm. You should kiss me next time to see if it works better."

"I'm going to drop kick you across the track if you say that to me one more time." You grimace.

"Come on. You gotta congratulate me if I win first." Leon laughs, speeding down the straight as the checkered flag is waved for him.

"P1. Congrats." You hum. "Good job."

"Call me good boy."

"Over the work radio? I think not." You laugh, disconnecting as you grab the other engineers to cheer.

When everyone rushes to the front, you stay in the back, winking at Leon as his eyes meet yours. He cocks up an eyebrow and you sigh, shaking your head as your mouth opens.

'Good boy'

If Leon had a tail, it'd be wagging by now from the look on his face.

He sticks his tongue out at you in response, biting it to show his canines as he goes bouncing off in the back. It makes you shake your head, but he rushes over to Ada for a hug, Helena giving him a fistbump as Leon gives her thanks. It's nice to be cherished. Though, you're surprised when Chris gives Leon a handshake. Huh. You didn't realize he was chill like that— or however the saying goes. You find it amusing. Leon locks eyes with you after talking to Chris, running through the cars to point at you. Oh, maybe it's because they're both from Raccoon.

You tilt your head as you're pushed to the front, and Leon tilts his head at you. You feel like it should be Leon Sly Kennedy and not Scott. What an awful person he is.

"Alright, alright," You reach up for his hair, fighting back the grimace that comes with all of the sweat, humming. "Good boy."

"That's what I like to hear." He grins, leaning into your palm.

"What are you? A dog?" You pull your hand from his hair, Leon turning to head over to the podium.

"Your dog, maybe?"

Aaaand he's off with a wink.

You shudder at the thought, grimacing as Leon sings his way to the podium. He accepts the trophy with a thank you and then pops the champagne, and you duck when he aims for you, causing it to land square in Mike's face. You manage a "sorry" before Mike wipes it off his face, gawking at Leon as he purses his lips.

"Wasn't aiming for you! Sorry, Mike." He smiles.

"I want dinner too!"

"We can take the team."

"Isn't he paying?"

"I am. I can decide that."

"Nah, rather not have to third and fourth wheel." The performance engineer rolls his eyes.

"You're not gonna be my saving grace?"

"He'd kill us both."

You groan, getting up when you realize Leon's finished spraying his bottle. He pours a glass for himself, downing it as you tilt your head and watch him. He pours another glass, hopping down the podium as he holds it out for you.

"Oh? For me?"

"If not you then who?"

"The rest of your team?" You raise a brow, pressing it to your lips as you drink.

Leon bubbles over with excitement under his skin at the indirect kiss. He has one last swig left in the bottle.

That way, he can say he kissed you — even if it was indirectly.

He takes the glass from you as he takes it pouring the last of the bottle into the glass as he licks at the place where your lip balm was. Maintaining eye contact with you the whole time, he watches for even a glimpse of embarrassment on your face.

You raise a brow, but the flush on your skin is his confirmation.

Then, he presses his lips to exactly where yours were, throwing his head back to down the last of it. The alcohol slides down the corners of his mouth and his throat as his adam's apple bobs, liquid sliding down. Once he's sure the glass is empty, only then does he relax himself and sigh, smirking at you as you raise a brow. Sexual awakening? Not exactly. Something that you'd get embarrassed over watching on television? Yeah.

It makes you uncomfortably warm at the neck, pulling at your collar as Leon gives you bedroom eyes, and that elicits a look of concern and grimace from you.

Old habits die hard.

You wave goodbye to him as he heads off to the interview and debrief, laugh on your lips as you retire with everyone else.

Helena makes one last stop before going to her own interview, grabbing your shoulder with a hand as you raise a brow.

"Twenty eight likes you. A lot."

"Too bad I can't date him."

She raises a brow in disbelief and shrugs.

"Good luck at the interview."

"Thanks. Have fun at dinner later."

"Does he debrief with you?"

"Maybe? Maybe not." She winks. "Catch you next race!"

You wave, raising a brow and jumping in your skin as Mike grabs your shoulder.

"He's down so bad."

"Thanks. I prefer to ignore it."

His laugh is more than enough to make you laugh too.

You get Cheesecake Factory with Leon. It's a little unceremonious, but as the two of absolutely go to town on your own meals, it does not matter. Whatever banter and flirting was going on on the track is ignored. This is not your problem. Your problem at the moment is to down an unreal amount of calories in the span of ten minutes, all presented to you on a platter from Cheesecake Factory. That's what you give a fuck about at the moment.

You wonder if Leon's gained any weight at all after eating... barely eating his diet. You're sure his dietician would grill the two of you to shreds for this, but you don't care. You're free. Leon's problem is his problem. You don't care if this one meal is singlehandedly restoring your weight loss over the week from exhaustion. This is your victory meal as much as it is Leon's.

"If I win next time will you go out with me?"

You blink at Leon, wiping your mouth.

"I did not just hear that come out of your mouth."

"You did."

"You woke up and decided to be twenty times more insufferable, huh?" You raise a brow. "No. I'm not complying. It's supposed to be me getting a reward."

"Is dating me not enough of a reward?"

"Not even close." You wipe at your mouth. "Isn't your dietician going to kill you for this meal?"

"I just have to burn it off." He shrugs. "Shall we take a stroll by the vegas strip?"

"Well, if you insist." You reach for your card, Leon's hand placed over yours as he takes his own out. "Leon. You placed first."

"I insist." He hums. "Now you owe me."

"Better not be more than a meal." You smile. "Milkshakes? No. Your caloric—"

"Nuh-uh. All those calories from the alcohol at the afterparty is going to turn into my milkshake."

"You don't even drink—" You pause. "I lied. I've seen that shots shots shots video circulating around of you."

"Yeah." He grins. "Yet, here I am. I'm here having dinner with you instead."

"You act as though you didn't have a choice."

"You're the one acting that way! Come on, let's go find the milkshake place."

"Don't you ever worry about paparazzi?"

"Fans are used to it by now. Haven't you seen them on Twitter betting on where we'll be eating next?" He offers you his hand, to which you raise a brow.

"Take my hand."

"Nuh uh."

"Fuck you mean nuh uh???"

You roll your eyes, getting up on your own as Leon pouts at you.

"Please?"

"I'll pay for milkshakes. Stop pouting."

"I'm gonna pout the whole way until you take my hand."

You raise a brow, following after him as he pouts at you the whole way, only returning to normal when some fans stop to ask for his signature. He makes light chat with them and you raise a brow, surprised when they hop over to your next, pen held out to you as you blink.

"You sure?"

"Yes. He's not a Stratcom racer without you." She tilts her head. "You're also like. Iconic."

You laugh, popping the cap of the pen as you ask her where you should sign, the other girl butting in to tell you to sign by the heart. You raise a brow but comply, the two girls squealing as you cap the pen again. They thank you, gushing as they as for a photo with you. You're surprised you've gained such a name just by being Leon's race engineer alone. You don't... dislike it.

"Are you two dating?!"

"No."

"Wish we were." Leon huffs.

"He's joking."

"I'm not."

"He is." You insist.

"You two have very fun conversations on the radio." One of the girls smile. "I like hearing you put him in his place."

You laugh, hunched over as Leon gawks, offended.

"I thought you were my fans?"

"Yeah, but I like your race engineer better." She whistles, looking to the side. "She's... hotter."

You laugh even harder, crouching on the ground as Leon holds a hand to his heart dramatically.

"Fake."

You get back up, patting Leon's back as you shake your head.

"Sorry to steal your spotlight, Kennedy." You hum. "Thank you, though."

"Honored! Are you both grabbing food?"

"Post-victory dinner just finished."

"And then?"

"We're getting a sweet treat." You grin.

"Sharing a milkshake?"

"No, I don't—"

"Good idea." Leon butts in, grabbing your wrist as he smiles. "We'll get going, though. Glad you enjoyed the race."

"Have fun!"

You stumble after Leon with a brow raised, unsurprised when he wraps his hand around yours, giving you a victorious grin as you scoff.

"This was your plan?"

"You're not going to defeat me in terms of grip strength."

You resist the urge to make a joke about grip, shaking the whole time your lips are pursed, coming off a lot as a spongebob meme, breaking into a fit of laughter eventually when you fail to resist.

"What?"

"You know what could defeat you in terms of grip strength?"

"Mind showing me? I'm a hands-on learner."

"This. This." You'd usually be too concerned to give a response, but the need to make the joke is too strong. You cut yourself with your own laughter, though, following after Leon as he shakes his head.

He rolls his eyes. "In public is insane."

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO LITERALLY JUST SAID—"

"We're here." He looks up at the place, pushing the doors open as you raise a brow in suspicion.

"Wow, you're like a local." You laugh, following after him as he orders, holding your phone to the side as you fight him to pay for the milkshakes, his strength too much for you as you eventually give up and let him pay for your treat. You groan the whole time, his laugh only even more spiteful as you take your milkshake with a pout on your kips, biting on the straw as he tilts his head at you.

"Come on."

You huff. "I was supposed to pay."

"You can pay when you earn as much as I do."

"You know what? I should be relishing in the fact that I haven't spent a dime so far." You roll your eyes. "Thank you for sparing my bank account."

"Of course."

"When do you fly?"

"Wednesday."

"Are you walking?" You raise a brow, tongue red from the milkshake.

"I'll see you there." He hums, sticking his tongue out. "We should make a pink milkshake."

You grimace, smacking him on the arm as he pouts.

"Meanie."

"whore."

You fly out Tuesday after the debrief with Leon, flight awful for you despite upgrading to business class, exhaustion from weeks of flying back and forth finally building up on your body. You're close. You have, what? two more weeks? The second to last race was this week, and you could rest easy if Leon could just get the title of champion after placing first. Though, arguably as long as he gets those 26 points before the end of the season, he could rest safe. Krauser still had the chance of winning if he placed first in literally any of these competitions. It wasn't a good thing on Leon's end, but you were just as stressed as he was.

You're going to explode.

Yet, you walk the lap around the track, sighing as Leon catches the look on your face.

"Sad?"

"God, I hope nothing goes wrong with your car."

"Why? You think it'll happen?"

"Aim to get fourth."

"We're not aiming for podium?"

"That bad feeling in my stomach says to not risk anything today. We're following Mike."

Leon frowns at you, clicking his tongue. "Why?"

"The car doesn't feel safe."

"You're insane."

"I'm not. Leon."

"And if I don't listen?"

"Then crash."

Leon places first in q3, and you hold your breath as he takes a gain on the rest of the cars in first place, defending for life against Ada. You watch the whole time as he stays in first place, only contacting him when he needs to pit for a change of tires, holding your breath as neither of you seem to speak over the radio. You read wind speed and what else he can do, but for the most part he barely responds. You can only hope he's not going through some sort of late teenage rebellion stage of his life. You watch and convey words from the rest of the engineers, trusting that Leon will at least know how to handle certain situations. You might be babying him quite hard, but it's honestly—

"Puncture in tyre. Pit. Pit. Box, box." You read.

"Which tire."

"Front right."

"Copy."

You watch as the tire explodes on him and his car, causing it to spin as Leon crashes into the wall. It causes you to wince, checking to see if they deploy a safety car or pull a red. Though, it makes you tired. Leon just didn't like listening. He picked up the puncture because he had told you he thought he could push further with the tyres. You grimace at the screen and mentally prepare yourself for Leon's influx of emotions.

The groan that Leon lets out causes you to pull the headphones out from sheer vibration.

"Get over here in the garage."

"This is your fault."

"This is NOT my fault. I told you to be careful this race." You huff. "Come on."

"I'm not watching Helena race."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, white boy."

Leon groans a second time at the nickname.

He stands behind you with a frown on his face the whole time as you watch the race. Helena's doing okay. You don't think she's too familiar with the track, and the amount of turns on the track are a little tricky to handle. She slows and gets overtaken often at the tracks. You can't say much considering that lots of people struggle with the track, but you find it impressive that she's managed to guard her position as fifth, steady with her turns as she grows used to the track by the middle. You wonder if she'll place podium.

Well, not that you'd be disappointed. You like placing podium, but the team's been on there an unreal amount since Leon and Helena joined. Lowering their expectation every now and then couldn't hurt. Well, at least not like it hurts veterans to get their asses kicked and realize their driving is getting worse. You wonder if that's why Leon's so bitter. At the very least, he placed 10th considering how many other cars just casually got pulled off. He did alright. All that needs to happen is Krauser not winning first — which sounds a little insane considering that he's first at the moment.

Leon took one first place, but somehow that title wasn't awarded to him. Well, it seemed that you'd be working your ass off for another week. God forbid you have a day off before the end of the season. You truly can not win. You watch as Helena tries to climb once as she has enough space, but it still isn't enough. You're not even disappointed anymore. You honestly just want to go home. You're so tired, it's unreal. The flight did not give you enough rest time, and so many things have been keeping you awake. So many? Sorry.

Images of Leon squeezing your hand while you walked down the Vegas strip have been haunting you at night.

You are not immune to the white boy agenda.

So, you close your eyes as you decide to doze off in the garage.

You're off duty now. You're free.

Leon catches your head before you fall over completely, gloved hand gentle on your skin as you lean on him, eyes closed and breathing stable as you catch a break. He feels bad for blaming you. You truly only mean the best for him, but it wasn't as if you were doing it right. Leon huffs as he holds your head in place, watching as Helena climbs to fourth in the last twenty laps. He raises a brow, impressed at her skill, and then he holds his breath as she touches wheels with Krauser. He knows how bad it is. He wonders if you ever get this anxious and invested in a race. Maybe that was why you never reacted when he won first place. You were still adjusting... or whatnot.

You seem awfully comfortable for someone who's falling asleep while literally sitting up.

The end of the race comes too fast, and Helena places fourth. Krauser places first again, and Leon clicks his tongue. It annoys him. He needs to place first next race. Instead of walking out with everyone to watch, Leon takes the seat next to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder for longer, glaring at Hunnigan when she gives the two of you a raised brow. He's not dealing with that. He might as well cherish the fact that you aren't biting back at him for once. Well, not that he's undeserving of all the shit you throw at him for being on the track.

You wake at one point, Leon knocked out with his head on top of yours. You blink at the pit crew cleaning up, groaning as every muscle in your body is begging for you to free it from whatever position you're currently in. You hold Leon's head in place, standing up to stretch, groaning as you do. You hear your back crack.

Leon stirs, opening his eyes and grumbling.

"I feel like shit."

"That makes two of us." You groan, stretching your arms above your head as you sigh. "I need to go back to the hotel room."

"No strategy debrief?"

"I'm too tired for that. Maybe over dessert?"

"Let's do room service again." Leon sighs. "My room this time."

You raise a brow. "Can I shower first?"

"Shower at mine."

"Okay. Damn. Whore."

"Bring your clothes. I'm not— You know what? If you're up for it."

"NO."

You end up cleaning yourself up first, towel around your neck as you step out and get changed into pajamas, knocking on Leon's room unceremoniously with your laptop and everything you might need to debrief. You wonder what it's like to be in a suite in a hotel, but you don't care. Quite frankly, you're not really in the mood to be debriefing, but anything to have your wallet not break over a room service meal. You don't even care if it's a salad at this point. Leon seems to know your general taste by now. Insane on his end, but who are you to complain?

"Come on."

"It was just a tire puncture this time."

"Yes, but something's gone wrong with my car twice in the last 3 races." He reasons. "Something needs to be changed."

"Do you want the edits you requested last time immediately?"

"That would be nice." He hums. "Also, new things to fix."

You yawn, watching as Leon draws arrows at what was flashing wrong, and you realize pretty quickly that the performance engineer was not doing what he was supposed to and keeping an eye out on everything. It makes you almost annoyed, but you don't tell Leon, opting to text the head engineer instead. You don't care if you have to find someone new. You need someone to actually watch what the hell was going on the track. Waiting until things were in the red to fix it wasn't smart. Leon's car had to be fixed as soon as anything on the car hit yellow. It was incredible how bad Leon was at car management.

"We're going to change performance engineers for your next race." You glance at the response from the head engineer.

"Really?"

"The puncture had been there for a while. It's not just an average blunder to not notice that there's something in the tire."

"Ah, right. You were that once."

"Yeah." You stab into a piece of the steak already cut, chewing as you raise a brow. "It might be someone inexperienced, but as long as they can consistently report what the numbers are, I'll live. Correction. You'll live."

"And if I crash my car?"

"Then Helena's going to need to force Krauser back until he can't score any more points than you. What are you? 379 right now?"

"379."

"Krauser's at 362. He can't place any higher than second. He's been doing well lately, so it's not out of the question for him to place podium. He can't place podium. Okay? You have to place higher than him."

"If he wins first... that just means I have to score over 390."

"Yes."

"So not first?"

"Just aim for first. Don't you want to go out with a bang?" You raise a brow.

"If I do, can I kiss you?"

"You have to place first."

"I'm taking that as a yes, then."

"I'm not saying no."

Leon flies in with you on Wednesday, involved the whole time during the debrief to discuss what can be changed and improved, deciding which tires to start off with on Thursday, and personally running around in the car during the free practices. The car's adjustments are made on the spot, and Leon grows comfortable with the car and the steering wheel before the race, slow laps around the field to get a feel, faster laps around the circuit to prepare for qualifying. He seldom talks to you, only on the radio when he drives, asking questions on how the car was doing.

He's a lot more vocal to check for the car now that it's someone completely new on the team.

You report everything he asks when he practices, checking that he's comfortable with where he's at, comfortable with knowing what his car is like. You find that his comfort probably matters a lot more than anything else at the moment. All you need to guarantee is that he gets the nine points. Though, you're aiming for him to get first place for once. You'll be cheering this race if he places first in more ways than one.

Leon races through qualifying with a passion you didn't know he could actually show, and you start to wonder if he's really just... locked in.

He places second for q3, and you take a look at the circuit, debriefing with him when he's back, nodding at him in approval when he beams at you. You might as well let yourself start getting more honest.

You think you like Leon. Well, not that you can tell. You think you like him, though. Maybe not the same way he does you, but you definitely like him.

"Still with me for that win, right?"

"Yeah, but you better win." You hum.

"You'll help me?"

"What can I do but?"

Leon rests in position, eyes on the road as the light flashes from red to green, gas pressed and speed active as he races down the start, overtaking Ada with a push, forcing a turn on the inside as he starts playing defense. The race to first was always easier than the keeping of first. You aren't sure if Leon will keep it steady throughout the entire time, but his plan in the hotel had been simple. He didn't need to place first, he just needed to chase both Ada and Krauser down until either of them wore their tires to shreds. It was a pretty simple plan on his end considering he was good at ruining both his car and others'.

"Lap?"

"35 left." You read. "How's the car? Performance engineer reports nothing sensors showing."

"It's alright." He turns, checking his rearview mirrors as he clicks his tongue. "Krauser chasing."

"Let him pass."

"What?"

"Tear that car to shreds."

"That's illegal."

"Not if he does it himself."

Leon clicks his tongue, scoffing.

"Blaming you if I get flagged."

"Blame me all you want."

Leon falls back and stages an accidental overpass, eyes focusing on the way Krauser passes him with Ada on his tail, Leon's lips curling upwards. Ada will tear Krauser to shreds for him. Ada may not play it as risky as he does, but he doesn't need Ada to be behind him, he needs Krauser torn to shreds. It had been that exact reason that he had played the cards of the public. The championship can only really be either of them. Ada's break had been the perfect opportunity for him, and he watches as Ada chases Krauser down.

You knew, maybe. You probably knew as soon as you realized he had lunch with Ada.

"Ada shredding Krauser. Touched wheels."

"Laps left?"

"30."

"She'll tear him down enough for me to overtake."

"You sure?"

"She promised." Leon hums, turning off his radio.

Ada does as promised, forcing Krauser to expend his tires and lose grip, forced into another pit stop as Leon takes the chance to chase after Ada. He understands she won't let him pass, but all that mattered was Krauser placing behind him. He needed to end up on that podium, and his pride wouldn't allow him anything other than the position of first. He chases after Ada on the corners as Krauser returns, pushing as he huffs when she cuts him off.

"How are the tires?"

"Losing grip."

"Pit now?" You pause. "Twenty seconds between you and Helena."

"Confirm."

"Confirmed pit. Box, box. We're ready when you are."

Leon glances to the side, sharp turn into the pit, wheels changed to soft ones as he races back out.

"Gap."

"Two seconds behind Helena. Five seconds in front of Chris."

"Can you have her let me pass?"

"Will ask. Go ahead and force past her anyway."

"Copy."

Leon speeds past Helena, making a mental note to thank her later, chasing after Krauser as he follows closely behind Ada, leaving enough space for Krauser and his brashness.

"Can I make him crash?"

"FIA can hear you."

"I'm not actually gonna do it."

"Twenty laps left."

"Cutting it is."

Leon wonders if Krauser really wants to deal with the same overtake three times, but he doesn't really care. If he loses, then so be it. He values his life a little less than Krauser. So, it's unsurprising when he goes for violent overtakes, forcing himself on the inside and forcing Krauser to brake, laugh on his lips as he zips past him. You keep an eye on everything else on the track, telling Leon to push.

"Fifteen laps. Get a grip, Leon." Your lips quirk up. "Gotta push."

"Thanks, tire grip is fine." He barks out a laugh, trying to cut through Ada on another turn as she stops him. "See you in ten laps."

"Catch you then."

Leon maneuvers around Ada's car in a series of close calls, grumbling to himself as he decides that he's just not going to brake the next time she pushes him into the wall. Front wing be dammed, he was so close to the finish line it didn't matter as much anymore. Yes, balance would be toppled, but it didn't matter if he could get both off at the same time. Ada has a survival instinct, and Leon would just force himself to overwrite that survival instinct. It won't matter to him as much if he loses something on the car.

"I'm gonna do a stupid."

"Oh, god."

Leon forces himself past Ada on a corner, refusing to brake and touching wheels with Ada, forcing her to the side as he speeds up, finally overtaking her and taking first. He doesn't call in in his final laps, far too invested in keeping first, stopping Ada from getting too close, grumbling though the circuit.

"Lap?"

"Final. Krauser in third. Keep your pace, Leon. You're almost there."

"God, I can't wait for my stupid prize."

Leon's final lap has minimal resistance, Ada seemingly falling a little more behind to keep Krauser out of the way, Leon flying past the checkered flag as he yells, hand thrown up as he cheers.

"DOUGHNUTS."

"Yes, Leon. We discussed this—"

You watch as Leon spins around the track, tearing the car to shreds in the process, wasting no material as he yells out, cheering and spinning on the track to do doughnuts.

"Good job, Leon."

"Now get over here so I can get my reward."

You ditch the headphones, following him as he goes back on the track to drive to his position, the rest of the team racing over to grab him, and Leon throws off his helmet, shoving it into someone's arms as he reaches for you, hands flying to the sides of your face as you yell, his lips pressed to yours as he melts into you, hand moving to the back of your head to deepen the kiss, dipping you as much as he can without your knees giving out on you. He steals every breath you can take, gloves a little nasty on your face as you throw your arms around his neck. Someone next to you yells and you think people pull out their phones, but you couldn't care less.

You've grown far too used to Leon's way of affection anyway.

You pull away first, wiping your lips from the sweat on his face, and he stares at you, beaming as you brace yourself for the million-dollar question.

"Be my girlfriend."

"Not with that attitude." You raise a brow. "Nuh uh."

Leon blinks at you, confusion all over his face as you raise a brow.

"What."

"Not with that attitude."

"Please? Go out with me?"

You roll your eyes. "What happened to chivalry?"

"Sorry, excuse me for a second." Leon lifts you over the fencing, making you yell as he carries you over to the stage.

"WHAT THE FUCK."

Leon takes his trophy as you watch from below the stage, handed a bottle of rose water as you shake it to pop it at him. The team won the constructors championship, so you think you get a little treat. You spray it in Leon's face as he sprays his at you, yelling as you close your eyes, pouring out the last bit to clink glasses with Leon. You don't care. You don't care anymore. The team just won world championship, you think there are other things that you care about right now.

Leon loops his arm around yours before you can drink, clinking glasses with you one last time before pressing his drink to his lips. You comply, lips pressed to the glass as you down the last bit, swallowing and pausing to think. This feels an awful lot like a wedding ceremony. You don't think too much about it, unlinking your arm with his to put the glass down, surprise on your face when he dives in for another kiss on the podium, lips pressed to yours as all you can taste in champagne, tongue pressed to yours with wet hair framing his face, stickiness from the alcohol on his face when you reach for his cheek, thumb brushing at it as he dips you for real this time, swallowing you whole on stage as squirm to push him off of you. You're sticky from the drink too, rose definitely on his tongue when he kisses you. You finally break free, head thrown back as he rests his head in the crook of your neck with a blissful sigh.

"God, that was so worth it."

"Kennedy, you're crazy."

"Only for you."

You fight back the grimace, opting for smacking him instead.

"We're not going for dinner first today. We're showering."

"Together?"

"No, you freak."

Leon sighs, burying his head in your chest instead.

"As long as we can get dinner after."

"I want your Nonna's pasta."

"Buying tickets right now."

"YOU HAVE AN INTERVIEW."

Leon presses a kiss to your cheek, staring at you through his lashes as he huffs. "Tomorrow, then. We can get room service for tonight."

"Only if—"

"I'll pay."

"Deal."

You let Leon wrap an arm around your waist as he cheers some more, your eye roll caught on camera for the media to see, but it doesn't really matter. Leon squeezes his cheek to yours, arm snug around your waist as he sticks his tongue out for the cameras, trophy held up for the world to see. You bet he’d wear your name around his neck if you asked him. Actually, you wonder how the hell he even got the title of playboy or flirt. Whatever Chad energy this man had when he started racing was NOT visible when he started working with you. This man is a walking loser stuck in a hot man’s body. Your loser, though.

Thank god you went to grab coffee first race of the season.

#for anyone who saw the art weeks ago yes this was the fic it was on my ao3 first #i had to cut a bunch of content to fit the tumblr block count so if u wanna read the whole thing nothing cut pls click ao3 BUT LEAVE A KUDO #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #reader insert #resident evil #☾.fics #☾.good graces

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itsnotgray · 1 year ago

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gray’s fic recs

my tagging/recommendation system is a mess beyond the point of fixing, so i made a masterlist. (i’ll slowly be adding fics to this!)

- an asterisk is next to players who play for the ahl team of said nhl team

- if works focused on more than one person, they’re listed under the other people, but only tagged in the first one you see in the list.

- also, apologies if the links don’t work correctly, it is in fact my first time making a masterlist

NHL/AHL

Anaheim Ducks

Jamie Drysdale

hey roomie by @emaanemaa

- trevor and jamie threesome. that's right, that's all it took to get you to go read it.

Trevor Zegras

chameleon by @hischierhaze

- listen- if you're someone who, whether it be consciously or unconsciously, changes themselves and their personality for those around them, or you have a history of it- please read this. I promise you, you won't regret it.

now that we don't talk by @sc0tters

- it's a toxic relationship with trevor, of course I'm gonna eat it up (she might end with trevor... or she might not. you'll never know if you don't read it.)

hey roomie by @ emaanemaa (fic linked above under jamie)

the penalty box series by @starsandhughes

I- if you're not already keeping up with this series... where have you been? every update is laugh out loud hilarious, and leaves you itching for more.

cruel weather- apart of the penalty box series by @starsandhughes

cruel weather gets it's own link because of the amount of emotional damage this inflicted upon me.

Arizona Coyotes

Boston Bruins

Buffalo Sabres

Devon Levi

like it very much by @jackhues

there aren’t many devon fics (which there totally should be), but the way i squealed when i read this one. further affirmed the fact that i think he’d be the best bf.

Calgary Flames

Nikita Zadorov

that scar hurt by the way by @swissboyhisch

- listen…. i’m the farthest thing from a flames fan, and can wholeheartedly admit it was an adorable read.

Carolina Hurricanes

Chicago Blackhawks

Colorado Avalanche

Columbus Blue Jackets

Adam Fantilli

to you, my adamo by @hischierhaze

- it's adam's birthday + his debut, can you blame me for crying?

his return by @hischierhaze

-this made me cry. but in making this, i'm convinced anything kei writes with the fantilli brothers makes me want to cry from either just how sickeningly sweet it is, or of course, sadness.

tiny dancer au by @letsgetrowdy43

god when i say sunny and adam have my heart- i mean it. they’re sososo special to me.

Dallas Stars

Wyatt Johnston

our song by @lovinbarzal

hands down one of my favorite wy jo fics/au’s. it’s wyatt x a barzal sister, a pairing i wouldn’t have thought of, but works so well!

Detroit Red Wings

Edmonton Oilers

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

waking up in vegas by @doc-pickles

- matty t x hughes!sister is a dynamic i didn’t know i needed.

Mackie Samoskevich*

perfect girl by @dmercer91

- this had me feeling things like no other... a big hint as to why? she's shared.

Los Angeles Kings

Alex Turcotte*

who does it better? by @harry-hollands

one of the cutest social media au’s in a while (technically has two parts, but they don’t have to be read together)

Minnesota Wild

Montreal Canadiens

Kirby Dach

here with you by @sc0tters

- it's amber's writing + kirby, what's not to love? (if that's not convincing enough, maybe the line, "I will follow you to the ends of the earth," is.)

Nashville Predators

New Jersey Devils

Jack Hughes

timeless by @babydollmarauders

- if I hadn't originally read this in the middle of the grocery store, I can almost guarantee that I would've cried from just how heartwarmingly adorable this is.

out by @babydollmarauders

- equipment manager x jacky boy- aka a trope I never knew I needed, but now crave after reading this.

ballad of a homeschooled girl by @babydollmarauders

- hands down one of the best pics I've probably ever read in terms of conveying emotion. my stomach was in knots the entire time, attesting to just how realistic the writing is.

never grow up by @aliaology

- i'm sorry but you're not human if you don't get even the tiniest bit emotional at any fic with "never grow up" as the song. BUT A FIC WITH THE BROTHERS? this rendered me emotionally unavailable for a solid 20 minutes.

medía management au by @babydollmarauders

the media management au is an ongoing series staring mr jack hughes and his lovely girl, dove! the updates always bring a a smile to my face, and more than likely make me laugh out loud.

4:41 am by @sweetestdesire

listen, as much as i adore brynn’s smut like no other, her fluffy, soft and sweet fics just do something to me. she writes them so detailed, and consistently has me craving for soft moments with a significant other (a significant other i do not have)

John Marino

stay for a while by @sc0tters

- when i talk about made me feel things, i mean it. amber never fails in writing panty-dropping smut, while also having an thought-out plot.

Luke Hughes

welcome back by @leaentries

- this literally made me swoon. a protective lukey- what's not to love?

nobody's love by @eyesthatroll

- my heart was in my throat while reading, and my emotions were all over the place. regardless of how emotional it left me, it was amazing and deserves all the love.

never grow up by @ aliaology (fic linked under jack)

- older hughes sister watches her brothers grow up + never grow up = tears

summer aches by @starry-hughes

- this fic makes me want a luke to take care of me when i get headaches, triggered by heat or not

what’s not to like? by @starry-hughes

- queen ellen and jimmy are a little apprehensive of you…

jack’s best friend by @lvrzegras

okay listen- any of the brothers x their best friends is great, but jack’s best friend x luke… it just hits different, yk?

Nico Hischier

I never could've seen you coming (I think you're everything I could've ever wanted) by @writingonleaves

- this is probably as close to a literary masterpiece as a fanfic posted on tumblr will ever get

will you take a moment? promise me this (that you'll stand by me forever) by @writingonleaves

- listen- it's apart of the universe she began in the fic above. I have the fic linked under nico (because the oc eventually ends up in a relationship with nico, as seen in the part above), but this is sososo found family heavy. if found family is your trope, then this is your fic

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal

it's nice to have a friend by @youunravelme

- put me through the emotional wringer in the best way possible.

winnie martin's favorite person by @ilyasorokinn

- god- i cannot even begin to describe how cute this is. all i can say, is that I need more pictures of barzy with kids... for science of course.

New York Rangers

Ottawa Senators

Philadelphia Flyers

Pittsburgh Penguins

Sidney Crosby

she was the (red) devil by @crosbyscurls

- hockey meets f1 is already a dream combination… but sid x f1? absolutely amazing

San Jose Sharks

Seattle Kraken

St Louis Blues

Tampa Bay Lightning

Toronto Maple Leafs

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

these michigan summers by @lukevangelista

i feel like the only way your not aware this series exists, then your new here. because if you haven’t read this, where have you been? this is for sure one of my top three series’ on tumblr, finished or unfinished. will in fact, forever have my heart. (currently unfinished)

the sun to my moon by @ghostfacd

this fic is part of an au! i highly, highly recommend checking it out- quinny + a grumpyxsunshine trope, what’s not to love?

never grow up by @ aliaology (fic linked under jack's name)

- older hughes sister watches her brothers grow up + never grow up = tears

Vegas Golden Knights

Washington Capitals

Dylan Strome

it's never too late to come back to my side by @lukevangelista (a series)

- one of my recent favorites. particularly geared towards those who think back on old friendships (...and constantly overthink on whether you should reach out. spoilers- it's never too late)

Winnipeg Jets

NCAA

University of Michigan

Luca Fantilli

missing you, quietly by @bitchinbarzal

- emotional torture in the best way possible. i re-read a concerning amount

i lost him by @hischierhaze

- made me cry- but in a good way

baby 101- name reveal by @hischierhaze

- it's dad!luca... yeah that's right, now that you have that cute thought in your head, you kinda have to go and read it

I tell you that I think im falling back in love with you by @writingonleaves

- this fic is sososo special to me for so many reasons- and I think you should totally read this fic to figure them out... just saying

opposites attract au by @dmercer91

this is a link to the head anons for the au- but please go read this sweet au. luca and landen are one of the sweetest pairings.

Nick Moldenhauer

sundays are for textiles by @drewsbuzzcut

- super cute read, and it's apart of an even cuter au

all american lace by @drewsbuzzcut

- also apart of that super cute nick au she has- but this part was not so cutesy (it was at the end). had me on the edge of my seat, and tears building in my eyes. the type of angst you physically feel- but with the type of ending that makes up for it (trust me, it does!)

Mark Estapa

icy roads by @nicohischierz

the simplest explanation i can offer is that this broke my heart- but i loved it anyway!

Boston College

Gabe Perreault

princess!gf x gabe perreault by @yankstrash

- these two are on my mind at least three times a week. i aspire to become amelia- aka find someone who is as down bad for me as gabe is for “his meels”

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jessilynallendilla · 1 month ago

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DANNY PHANTOM FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DPXDC

THEN FENTONS IN GOTHAM AND MISC

BATFAM FIC REC

YOUNG JUSTICE & JUSTICE LEAGUE

SUPERMAN AND CONSTANTINE

KID DANNY

DEMON SIBLINGS

LEAGUE OF ASSASSINS & COURT OF OWLS

DPXDC SHIPS

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to recommend any

A Snapping Sound T 140,368

"You're new Sam, so you don't know. This will be the only warning you get. Don't trust your eyes or you'll be tricked. Nobody in Amity is who they seem. Nobody."

Phantom Of Truth T 58,396 SERIES

Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her sole object of study, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth... except, perhaps, herself.

Paranormal Activity VII T 58,400 SERIES

What if all those horror pictures and little mental health headcanons the Phandom loves got wrapped up into our favorite ghost kid? What if the ghosts weren't glowing green blobs, but instead the stuff of nightmares every horror movie warned you about? What if the "Scary Eyes" weren't the only sign Danny was angry?

Little Lion King T

A ghost king AU where Danny is an all-powerful ruler/ beloved king and hero who is terrified that his people would hate him if they found out he was a halfa.

Just Fourteen T 65,252

Danny Fenton is an average high school student whose biggest worry is getting the grades needed to become an astronaut. That is, until his friend Sam convinces him to step inside his parents' broken ghost portal...Covers Danny's time at Casper High before the accident and the month afterwards.

Mortified T 703,484 SERIES

Danny had actually been looking forward to Casper High's ghost safety assembly, but, between a ghost attack and his parents' newest weapon, things go wrong very quickly. Now Danny will have to fight not only ghosts and hunters but his own instincts to get everyone back home safely. If at all.

Overshadowed T 142,362

Danny Fenton’s managed to make it to adulthood. Erm…young adulthood? Now, in his sophomore year at Minnesota State, his life almost looks normal. Painfully, mind-numbingly normal. It’s not that he misses life-threatening assaults every minute of the day, but after leaving Amity Park behind, it’s almost like he’s left his past behind too. His old classmates, his family, his friends—none of them quite remember the myriad of paranormal perils they stopped together, and none of them remember that Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom are one and the same. But when a new threat—or rather, an old one—comes back to haunt him, Danny just might have to bring his two worlds together once again.

Below Is Silent T 1,095

As he feels the freezing air on him, crashing with his own gelid flesh. He thinks. As he thinks, he senses. He fights, a bit of pain dotted here, and a bit here. Up above the wind stops, and goes around the town he calls his own.

What Was Bound, What Was Loosed G SERIES

The young king slept for most of the first week of his reign. He did not seek his bedchambers, though they existed, and in a room not too far from the throne room. But he stayed in his throne, sleeping fitfully, and rising only to weep or shout or scream at nightmares. It was a good omen. Pariah had not been so peaceful.

One Another G 1,282 SERIES

The Zone holds more than just ghosts, and Clockwork can't wait to see what Danny will become.

Something's Wrong With Danny Fenton Vol. I M 55,065 SERIES

A No One Knows AU where Danny transfers from a different school to Casper during Junior year and ends up befriending Sam and Tucker.

Schrödinger’s Boy G 1,610

At first glance, it looked like a boy. A cute boy in fact. Short compared to her tall. Pale skin in contrast to her deep dark, straight black hair opposed to curly blond. Baby blue opposing forest green. But then, the closer she looked, the more she noticed what was off. Skin was a little too pale to be considered healthy, and became slightly transparent as she saw more. Hair was wispy and floaty, almost defying gravity, almost flowing like it was under water as its head bounced. Eyes a bit more, sunken, a bit more tired. Worst of all, its heartbeat sounded so, so slow. And now, it was sitting two tables across from her.

Autonomy And Worse Things T 48,942

In a moment of stress, Danny develops a new power, one far too electrically reminiscent of his death. With it, he can play puppeteer: when he speaks, people will listen, and they'll have thought all along the idea was their own. It's a terrifying power—and when Danny fails to control it, his friendships are left shattered in its wake.

Face To Face T 293,614 SERIES

When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s okay now. So why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny, remember a life that isn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul?

Trust Your Instincts T 208,868 SERIES

A new kind of danger threatens Amity Park. With no other leads, Maddie Fenton turns to the one individual that might be able to help: Danny Phantom. Meanwhile, after a near death experience, she begins to question everything she knows about ghosts.

Let's Make A Deal M 2,509 SERIES

When Danny dies in the portal accident, Sam and Tucker make a deal to bring their friend back.

Danny And His Blob Ghosts T 11,301

When two blob find and affectionately latch onto Danny, the halfa immediately adopts the small ghosts. But things are not as they seem. With Danny's horrifying recurring nightmares, Vlad Master's ominous behavior, and the blob's strange human-like eyes, keen intelligence, and intense fear of the older half ghost, there might just be a greater connection between Danny and his blobs, one that will shake the boy to his core.

Do You Know Where Your Children Are? T

It's a school night. It's dark outside. It's cold. Green— fog?— has invaded the whole house, and now he has to get his parents to tackle whatever that problem is. ...The only problem is, Danny woke up alone in his bedroom, and he can't seem to find them. Like. Anyone. Anywhere.

Danny + Phantom NR

Wherein Danny is less 'half ghost' than he is 'awkwardly possessed'.

An Unlikely Alliance T 15,165

Maddie just wants her family back. In a desperate attempt to understand her youngest's change in behavior, Maddie unwittingly enlists the help of his enemies to exorcize Phantom from her son.

Good And Evil T 3,687

What is "good"? What is "evil"? Am I "good"? Am I "evil"? The truth is, I don't know anymore. But why am I asking myself this? Let me start from the beginning...

Crashing And Burning T 17,150

For two years, Maddie has put up with Danny's ridiculous lies and excuses. She's tried everything to get through to him, but the pattern just goes on. She's so tired of fighting him on this all the time. And so, after two years, she's done. She doesn't care what her son does anymore, because Danny doesn't seem to care that he's her son.

Wake Me Up To Say Goodbye T 23,345

The morning started like any other: wake up, get dressed, make sure Danny got up for school. It all fell apart when Jack's hand went through his son's apparently not-so-solid body.

Kintsugi T 24,141 SERIES

An injured Danny went to his parents for help as Phantom, only to later wake up as Fenton. With their already dysfunctional family shattered, Danny picks up the broken pieces.

Snap T 25,742

One careless fall changed Danny's life forever. He was kind of hoping one fall like that was enough for any lifetime. Clearly fate disagreed. It's fine though! He's got this. He's fine. He can totally explain why he ran off with his own body to mom and dad.

A Choice In The (Ghostly) Matter T 26,254 SERIES

Danny had been having a good year. He finally managed to find at least somewhat of a balance between fending off ghosts and his actual life, or at least a routine that wasn’t actively harming him. But then Clockwork decided to meddle in his life, appearing in his bedroom with some less-than-amazing news. Pariah is fading, and guess who's next in line for the throne?

Whenever You’re Ready G 12.720

Jack and Maddie try to show their son they are very supportive of Phantom once they find out his secret. They want him to tell them on his terms, but everything ends up in bigger misunderstandings and more revelations they weren’t prepared for.

How You've Changed T 2,500

Danny wasn't a ghost, at least, not a ghost pretending to be their child. He was... he was still their child. He was just, wrong.

Irrefutably Human G 35,276

After spending 12 years in the Ghost Zone, Danny decides it’s time to see what the Human World has to offer. He quickly learns that blending in with humans is a lot harder than he thought it’d be… and that just maybe, the elder ghosts had a reason for keeping him in the Zone for so long.

Run Away, Ghost King G

When Pariah Dark's legacy fades and the King Stone calls for Danny Phantom to inherent the crown, only his enemies prefer he remain alive and not the all powerful ruler of the Infinite Realms. His name is whispered among ghosts, reverence and resentment flavoring his deeds, but what use is a crown with a price weighed in blood? To become king, Danny Fenton must die.

Regulations: Too Little Too Late T SERIES

His parents were friends with a weird loner billionaire from the sounds of it, and had never thought to mention it before this trip. Strange, he supposed, but his parents often forgot to do or mention important things. At least no ghosts had shown up this far outside of Amity. Yet.

Let's Pretend The Fog Has Lifted T SERIES

He waits. Time passes. Warmth creeps across his left side in thin stripes. The blinds must be open. Afternoon sunlight kisses his face before slowly moving on. Pipes creak. The house settles. A voice shouts indistinctly outside. It'll be night soon. He considers turning on a lamp but laughs quietly to himself instead. What would be the point? If anything good could be said of his time spent under Freakshow, he's at least learned how to be patient.

Nodus Tollens NR

The realization that the plot of your life doesn't make sense to you anymore.

The Amity Boys T SERIES

"Amity Park: A Nice Lie." Skeptic Newcomer Wes Weston and Veteran of the Paranormal Dash Baxter start a radio broadcast to post online to gain insight into Amity Park. Once they hit record, their lives will never be the same. The pair must decipher rumors from folklore and fact from fiction-- exploring a decaying one-stop-light ghost town. Can their friendship survive the living dead, and will Wes ever find the truth behind the mysterious Amity Park Phantom?

Everything Was White M SERIES

After being accidentally revealed to the public and taken away by the government, Danny deals with the aftermath of his time with the GIW.

Memory Of What May Have Been And Never Will Be G 3,962

Valerie Gray from ten years in the future falls through a natural portal, landing in the past. Unable to get home, she decides to do the best thing she can - kill Danny Phantom.

Hold My Dying Breath T

Danny is dead. Danny is dying. Danny is alive. Danny is trying to hold together what bits of his life he can, without putting anyone in danger. Jazz is worried about her baby brother. Sam and Tucker are bitter and mad at their ex-friend. Valerie wants nothing to do with any of this. Dash wandered into this mess and refuses to leave without answers. A circus looms in their near future.

Cuddle Couch T 4,418

Valerie just wanted to buy a new couch to replace the one Cujo tore to shreds. She didn’t know babysitting her boyfriend in a furniture store would prove so difficult.

Dying (Again) T 2,630

Saying Danny was half ghost was frankly a simplification. In truth, he was more ⅞’s ghost. Maybe more, depending on the day. Truthfully, it was a miracle his ectoplasm had kept his human heart beating as long as it had. Or Danny was dying again. This time he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Mother Knows Best T 5,647

Pamela Manson knows her role: she is Samantha's mother and that means that it is her duty to protect her daughter from harm. Especially as her own mother seemed to have missed that memo.

Accidental Child Aquisition NR

Danny's got enough on his plate between Ghost King duties, surviving his parents, surviving the GIW, and surviving high school. He could do without the summonings from crazed fruitloops on random Tuesdays when he has things to do. He could definitely do without said fruitloops offering him kids as sacrifices when he finally made it clear he didn't like them offering up blood, animals, or adults.

Don't Shoot; It's Me! No, The Other Guy! NR 31,935

After a botched attempted reveal, Valerie thinks Fenton and Phantom body swapped! And maybe he'd be able to solve this (and the rest of his current issues) if Valerie could stand to leave Fenton with Phantom for long enough for him to solve them; but now they (all three of them, yes) are off to have an adventure in the far frozen. Literally how did he get here?

Deranged Senses T 12,953

Danny’s been doing fine. Sure, he has to focus on keeping himself from shaking, and the voice in his head goading him to hurt has been getting louder, but its fine. He’s got it under control. He’s human more than he is ghost, and he has things to fight for. He can’t afford to give in. He won’t give in. He won't.

Second Chances And The Days That Follow T SERIES

Phantom awakens in his new body, and he is not, per se, house trained. Vlad is devoted to his new purpose, and he's a little bit in over his head. Danny is trying his goddamn best.

Ghosting T

“But as soon as he’s about to move in that direction, a twig snapping nearby has him whirling around with a growl. He doesn’t have the energy to go invisible right now, but that doesn’t stop him from gathering a green glow at his fingertips, ready to blast the first face he sees. He hunches over in a vain attempt to hide or protect his injured side and bares his teeth at the threat. But instead of hunters chasing him down to kill him, out of the woods comes— Sam Manson. Phantom freezes. Oh no.”

Meet Me In The Woods T

When Danny is two years old, his cousin Flynn goes missing and is never found. When Danny is fourteen years old, he notices a blip on the radar that shouldn't be there.

Mortality Salience T 4,219

"The beam sat smugly across his thighs and pressed into his pelvis with a weight that felt like a thousand tonnes. Pain throbbed through him, cutting breaths short and making every movement agony." OR Danny and Valerie get stuck together

Smells Like Team Spirit G 3,133 SERIES

Some mascots are great at pumping up a crowd. As Casper High's mascot, Danny has only one job: strike fear into the hearts of their opponents. This is the story of how Danny becomes the famed Mascot of Fear.

Speak To Me G 2,202

Danny had heard of "dead languages" before, but this was just ridiculous.

Threads Of Time T 28,222

Maddie keeps on waking up to Thursday morning

The Curious Case Of Danny Fenton G 15,639

Wes Weston knows perfectly well that there is something off about Danny Fenton. His brother Kyle doesn't seem to see it, but his brother also doesn't believe in ghosts.

Boy King G 2,602

Danny is heir to the throne of the Ghost King, much to the displeasure of the Observants. He's just trying to survive his senior year.

Shatter G 1,836 SERIES

Danny had just been electrocuted four days ago. But that was okay. Because he was fine. Even if there was this weird pressure in his chest, and his skin didn't feel like his own, and his whole body felt cold and alien, and he kept tripping over his feet. He was fine. He was human.

A Connoisseur of Fine Art G 698 SERIES

Well, you know what they say: One ghost’s toilet is another ghost's treasure.

Elledritch Horror NR 1,461

A mother finds something strange about her daughter. If that's her daughter at all...

Cloned To Homed G 26,765 SERIES

Danny Phantom was a protector, not a hurter, there’s no way he could genuinely have destroyed those clones and maybe the Fenton parents wouldn’t be quite so bothered or quite so surprised by the existence of halfas as Danny once feared.

Am I Dreaming? T 1,718

Sam comes to and realizes she's not quite herself. No matter what anyone says, remember, this is Fenton's Fault.

The Invisible Crown Of A Child G 725 SERIES

Maddie was observant and the Crown Of Fire wasn’t something she was about to miss... even if it’s wearer seemed to have no clue.

Prince Before King. Genius Before Fool. G 11,215

Becoming the prince of ghosts isn’t in Danny’s weekend plans, but it doesn’t look like he has a choice in the matter. (Or does he?)

Revelations T 4,118

Death is a joke, a walking comedy, and Danny Fenton had always been a comedian. Monologues, acidic blood, a little girl that looked his spitting image, and bones.

Second Chances T 3,982

The students and faculty of Casper High mourned the tragic death of Daniel Fenton. Gone too soon thanks to the negligence of his parents. That was what everyone thought until the next Monday morning when Danny came strolling into school like nothing had ever happened.

Halfa Whole G 484

Somehow, he just knew, right down to his core, that he wasn’t the same thing as Vlad and Danielle.

The Case Study Of Wes Weston T

His face wasn't that memorable. Even after seeing him just that morning, Danny could only conjure up his reddish brown hair and freckle-splattered cheeks, but not much else. At first, it didn’t matter much. Danny didn’t even bother to confirm his name. But after the curious streak dragged on and on, and spiraled into a full on investigation, he learned the name. And now he can’t seem to stop hearing it. ‘Wes Weston asked me for this’, ‘Wes Weston did that last week’, ‘I saw Wes Weston here’, ‘I heard he was there’, ‘Wes is so cool’, ‘I hate that guy’. Suddenly, he’s everywhere. It seems like everyone except Danny knows Wes Weston. And, it seems like Wes Weston knows…everything.

A Grave Error T 1,521

A fluorescent green gaze pierced through him from the rearview mirror. As much as the eye contact sent chills down Dale's spine, he didn't want to look away. Some primal part of his brain was much more comfortable keeping his eyes firmly planted on the predator in the back seat of the police car.

"Why won't he leave?" Dale whispered to his partner, the woman grit her teeth.

"I don't know, but I'm not the idiot who decided to fucking arrest him."

Proximal T

There's an old superstition that bad things come in threes. Finding a gravely injured Phantom in her lab, then the realization that no one has seen her son for nearly twenty-four hours... Maddie doesn't want to know what the final nail will be.

I Feel Guilty But I Can't Feel Ashamed M 63,915 SERIES

Fentons were feared. Danny had this impressed on him from both of his parents and even his snobby sister for all of his fourteen years. Despite Danny taking after Maddie with his love of dissecting anything that could scream, Danny was the least evil Fenton to ever evil. Then everything changed when his parents built a very strange machine.

Down The Rabbit Hole T 33,586

Her father might have been a bit eccentric and distancing, her mother fond of ghost studies – especially doing that secretly in her lab without Dad’s consent – but no matter the oddness, Dani loved her parents. But she never could have guessed that her world would turn upside-down once she simply wanted to get away from their exceptional heated debate – in which case, she would end up in a twisted world where nothing was as things were supposed to be: her father had no child, her mother lived with another man, had another family, and… she didn’t exist at all

The Boy Who Fell Into The Sea T 34,272

Thrust into the world of the sea monsters, Danny learns that they aren't so different after all, and finds himself working on a way to bring them both together. Too bad he seemed to be Really Bad At Doing So.

A Night At The High School G 15,456

Ever since the accident two years ago, Danny has had what some people would call luck when it comes to the paranormal. When he heard that Sam wanted to use that "luck" in help with a class assignment, he knew it was a bad idea. It was an absolutely terrible idea. And yet, he was gonna go along with this anyways.

Emergency Contact T

When William Lancer answered the phone that day, little did he know that he would go from an average literature teacher and cat-dad to now the emergency foster parent for a very injured teenage ghost. Life had a funny way of being unpredictable like that

(We Are) The Fault Line T 46,616

A year after the asteroid, a new government agency has arrested Danny on "public endangerment" charges, and they've shown no sign of releasing him any time soon or even allowing any of his loved ones to see him. So, naturally, Sam and Tucker and Valerie and Dani have taken it upon themselves to rescue him. The plan is simple. In order to convince these federally funded goons to give Danny up, they're going to have to offer them something better. Enter Vlad Plasmius.

Shift T 22,4415 SERIES

In which Danny's secret is revealed to the world before he ever steps foot in Amity Park…and before he ever meets Sam or Tucker.

Weaving Webs M 20,951

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys (If Only That Were True) T 12,483

Danny has enough on his plate as it is, between his kingly duties, the ghosts that have dropped off the map so suddenly that he's starting to worry, and that dang itch - which was beginning to turn into pain - that just won't go away. He doesn't need to deal with this creepy circus and its equally creepy ringmaster. But when he encounters four strange ghosts robbing a jewelry store, and he starts losing time… He realizes that he can't avoid Circus Gothica forever. If only he could say not my circus, not my monkeys and just be done with it.

MISC

The Crown Of Flame Imperishable M SERIES

Danny responds to an elaborate fetch quest across Middle Earth with leeroy jenkins tactics (rushing in knowing nothing) while Fright Knight watches in disbelief that it's working.

The Phantom Martian T

When Astronaut Mark Watney went to Mars, he knew there was a chance he'd never come home. Now, though, he's determined to last long enough for NASA to save him because this whole dying for science thing is not as fun as it sounds. Meanwhile, Danny Fenton is just trying to keep his identity a secret amidst a potential crisis with his powers. Seriously, what's up with that weird current under his skin? Why is he having so much trouble controlling it? And why does it feel so familiar...? In a fit of determination (and possible stupidity), Danny goes to Mars to save Watney, only to add to both their crises when he arrives and can't get home. Will NASA save them? Will Danny have a home to return to if they do?

Phantom's Fables (A One Shot Collection) M SERIES

A collection of story ideas that I lack the motivation to make into full stories at the moment. Will mostly be Danny Phantom crossovers with DC and probably a little bit of Marvel or BNHA. Requests are welcome. Any one-shot series that makes it to five chapters will graduate to it's own fic.

The Ghost Of Heroes T 291,238 SERIES

New York City isn't prepared for a ghostly invasion. The Avengers are finally all in the same place again. Thor and Bruce are back from space with a semi-reformed chaos god and a thousand refugees in tow. Steve and the Rogues have got their pardons and are ready to start being heroes again. But Tony isn't ready trust, neither is his new protegee Spiderman. The fractured team can't seem to come together. It's a good thing then that Danny Phantom is ready to save the day. That doesn't mean anyone is prepared for when he keeps showing up.

John Doe Identified M 6,233 SERIES

Phantom luck strikes again as Danny gets hurt wandering the streets of NYC but he is saved by the most unlikey hero-antihero. Things happen, mistakes are made, identities are revealed, and somehow hearts are slightly mended.

Dead Heat Rising M 13,044

Working a job in Amity Park, Ohio, Sam and Dean Winchester encounter a ghost boy who will change their perspective of those beyond the veil...

Salt And Iron T 2,479 SERIES

“Yeah, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you got the jump on me with a plain old crowbar and a condiment.”

Dead Man's Blood T 3,581

“Pfah! What good’re cops in a town like this?” The old man waves dismissively. “Nah, Phantom’ll take care of things, same as he always does.” Dean pauses in fishing out his wallet. “Phantom? Who’s Phantom?”

#danny phantom #fic rec #long post

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it-happened-one-fic · 3 months ago

Text

The Strange Case of Doctor Jade and Mr. Floyd (Part 1) - Jade

Author Notes: Tis October, so here is a Halloween-themed fic! I read a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde inspired fic with Jade and Floyd quite some time ago (I'm pretty sure it was Azul x reader actually) but I can no longer find it, so I'm afraid I can't link it and I can't remember the author or the fic name either (such is my memory). But anyway, I wanted to try doing my own spin on the idea and, fear not, mine ended up wildly different from the one I read. And I won't lie, I kind of wanted to make this series longer, but I cut myself off at 4 chapters because (a) that's how many Fridays there are in October and (b) I didn't know where to take this series. Reader is gender-neutral and I hope you all enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader/ sfw/ sort of fluff/ romance implied/ platonic relationship/ kind of mafia AU/ some drama/ intrigue??

[Part One: You're Here!], [Part Two], [Part 3], [Part 4]

Word count: 2523

Trigger Warning: Mentions of blood

I looked up, immediately smiling as the door opened and in strolled Jade. An ever polite smile on his seemingly flawless face as he looked over at me with practiced gentility, “Good morning, Y/n.”

I nodded at him, reaching down under my desk to grab the package Azul had left for him just moments earlier, “Good morning, Dr. Jade. Mr. Carews called and requested that you call him back, and Mr. Ashengrotto just came by and left a package for you.”

Jade let out a hum as he eyed the small package, a slight frown appearing on his face at the mention of the first man before his two-toned gaze flickered up to meet mine. Amusement flickering in his mismatched eyes as he tilted his head, the motion causing the singularly long, dark grey strand of his otherwise short turquoise hair to swing wildly, “Did Azul say anything?”

I shook my head, as I sifted through a pile of papers. All appointments, letters, and general paperwork, “No, he and I chatted for a while, but he didn’t leave a message for you. Why? Are you expecting something from him?”

I paused to glance questioningly up at the doctor, who shook his head. An amused smile spreading across his face as he rested one gloved hand against his chin, “No, but it is as I feared. You have quite charmed my work partner.”

I snorted at his teasing, shaking my head slightly, “Hardly. He was just being polite.”

Jade hummed, straightening as he balanced the package in one hand easily, “I sincerely doubt that, my dear. I do fear he might soon come to steal you away.”

I rolled my eyes, mething his gaze once more, “Azul has no need of a receptionist, so I doubt there is any real fear of that.”

Jade let out a quiet chuckle as I held out a slender sheet of paper, “Here, this is Mr. Carews’s number. He sounded very upset when he called, so I imagine he’ll want to schedule an appointment.”

He quietly eyed the paper before accepting, “Yes, I suppose he will, considering everything that’s going on.”

I frowned at his words, perfectly used to Jade’s occasionally ominous statements by now, but I tilted my head at him nonetheless as I gave way to my own wary curiosity, “Are you talking about that new criminal that supposedly looks exactly like you? ‘Mr. Floyd,’ was it?”

Jade’s characteristically discreet smile split into a grin. One that displayed his pointed teeth that he always kept hidden behind close-lipped smiles whenever any patients were nearby, and in many ways I genuinely believed that the first time I’d seen it had been entirely accidental on his part. But at this point I also honestly suspected that Jade only smiled like that when he was truly, and perhaps villainously, amused.

His voice was filled with humor, as evidenced by his slight chuckle as he spoke, “Ah, yes, that fellow. So you’ve heard of him too?”

I blinked slightly at his words before smiling in slight disbelief and shaking my head, “Hasn’t everyone? It seems like everyone’s talking about him. People on the streets, patients in your waiting room, the newspapers….”

I trailed off amusedly as Jade tilted his head at me, his eyes flashing with a far-too-clever glimmer, “And what do you think of this ‘Mr. Floyd’?”

I felt my eyebrows raise at Jade’s question. But, in all fairness, I suppose it only made sense for him to be at least slightly curious about the criminal that everyone had been likening him to.

Though, knowing Jade, I doubted that any of the gossip actually bothered him. In fact, Jade would be more likely to find their gossip rather amusing.

“Well, I suppose he may have a passing resemblance to you based on what people say, but it can’t be anything too awfully close. After all, neither the practice nor your reputation have been hurt by any of the rumors,” I finally answered. Lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug before I frowned slightly, “Beyond that, I haven’t heard much about him. No one actually talks about anything he’s done. Just that he supposedly looks like you and apparently can’t be caught.”

Jade blinked at my words, his eyes widening in an almost comedic fashion before a slow smile crept across his face as his gaze shifted back to something more amused, “Yes, I suppose there isn’t much information about him, is there?”

He paused, tilting his head slightly before finishing in an oddly pleased manner that had me frowning slightly, “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see how things pan out, won’t we?”

I was almost tempted to question as he turned to go but I stayed silent. Instead, watching as he walked off with his package, as I idly considered his words before tilting my head with a slight frown.

Because it was odd, now that I considered it. The way Azul kept sending mysterious little packages so cryptically.

The rest of the day rolled by uneventfully, though, with patients coming and going. Ever-thrilled to be seeing that the esteemed Dr. Jade. Though how Jade kept up the ‘esteemed’ part of his reputation was beyond me.

It was true that he was the perfect image of a gentleman and was by far a good employer whom I got along well with. But it was also true that it hadn’t taken me very long after getting hired as his receptionist to figure out that there was far more to him than just his good looks, intelligence, and faux-polite smile.

If nothing else, Jade was a master of manipulation, and he could be beyond slippery at times. And then there was the way he’d emerged from his office with a distinctly smug expression to tell me that Mr. Carews did indeed want an appointment and for me to be sure to schedule plenty of time.

And that was, of course, in and of itself perfectly innocent. Jade was a well-respected doctor after all. If Mr. Carews needed an appointment, even a long one, that wasn’t really very strange.

But the way Jade’s pleasure had seemed all too villainous was odd and had me shaking my head with a frown even as I was walking down the street on my way home.

It wasn’t the first time I’d questioned Jade’s flawless reputation, though.

I might have bought into it at the start, when I’d applied for the job of his receptionist, but I didn’t now.

But I also had no idea why he seemed so perfectly villainous sometimes, and the fact that I got along with him so well despite my occasional concerns had me questioning my own sense.

Jade had appeared out of nowhere, with similar timing to Azul’s appearance in town. Both reasonably well-respected from the start, and by now they’d built up quite the reputations as well as quite a bit of money.

Jade, as a supposedly moral character who helped the sick and ailing with all sorts of problems, and Azul, as a businessman who could help most anyone find what they needed.

The two of them had already been friends when they’d both shown up within days of one another and set up their businesses with the implicit understanding that they worked together.

Both of them were a bit of a mystery, and both of them were men I’d ended up working with and getting along with rather well. But all of it was still odd enough to make me sometimes question their sudden appearance and the way Jade seemed to always know stuff about people.

After all, that was why he was regarded as so good at his job. The sheer amount of information he had about what troubled individuals.

I paused mid-step as something caught my eye through my peripheral vision, causing me to turn and look down a darkened, trash-filled street before my eyes widened in recognition.

Because there, of all people, sat Jade himself with a hand pressed to his now bloodied right arm, even though he’d only left the office shortly before I had.

My mind swirled with questions about how he’d gotten hurt, what exactly had happened, and what on earth was doing here when his house was in the exact opposite direction. But none of those thoughts slowed me down as I darted across the street. Heedless of others passing by.

I all but dropped to the ground beside him, my hand reaching out to try and shove his hand out of the way so I could get a better look at his injury as words flew from my mouth in a garbled mix of distress and genuine concern, “What happened to you?!! We need to get you some help! I’ll call the hospital and-”

He jerked back at my sudden appearance, staring at me with wide eyes, and I felt myself go still as my words came to an abrupt halt as I stared back at this young man who was so familiar but also wholly foreign to me.

A yellow right eye and an olive left one, both of which were slightly drooped at the edges, giving him an almost gentle appearance. But Jade’s eyes were sharper and more upturned at the edges, with his right eye being olive and the left being yellow.

And then there was the hair. The same shade of turquoise, but where Jade had his longer stand of dark grey hair that framed the left side of his face, this man’s longer strand hung on the right side of his face.

He was a perfect mirror image of my employer, but the simple fact of the matter was that this man was not Jade. And suddenly all I could think was the rumors of the very criminal Jade had questioned me about just today.

Mr. Floyd. The criminal that no one could catch, who looked uncannily like Jade.

I swallowed thickly as he blinked back at me, his expression slowly shifting to surprise to something more intelligent that had me both mentally and physically retreating.

I slowly let go of his hand, pulling back as I let out a nervous laugh, “Sorry… I must have gotten the wrong person….”

I trailed off as I hurriedly backtracked, about to stand and scurry away only for him to catch my hand in his, which I noticed all too late was also different from Jade’s.

I froze at his sudden touch as I stared at where his hand now held mine captive before my gaze darted back up to his face.

If he was bothered by my sudden wariness, he didn’t show it as he stared back at me and clearly identified me despite the fact I’d never met him, “You work for Jade.”

In no way were his words a question. They were a statement. Like he knew it for a fact, and I felt myself nod even as I scrambled to figure out what I needed to do now.

I had no idea what sort of crimes this man had committed or anything about him. And even if I had paid more attention to the gossip about him, I still wouldn’t know anything.

“Dr. Jade? Yes, I- I’m his receptionist,” And I only faltered slightly as I responded to him. Feeling both very much out of my depth.

He stared back at me, his expression oddly, before a sharp-toothed grin crossed his face that had my eyes widening as his grip on my hand tightened slightly, “I guess I’d better get you back home then? Hm~ It’d be a shame for something to happen to the respected doctor’s receptionist.”

I blinked at his lilted words. My confusion only increasing as my wariness remained. I didn’t know if he was being patronizing towards the fact Jade was well-respected due to something akin to jealousy or if it was something else entirely. But either way, I wanted to get away from him, and I certainly didn’t want ‘Mr. Floyd’ anywhere near my home.

I might not know what crimes he had supposedly committed, but I definitely wasn’t going to take any chances.

I pasted a nervous smile onto my face and pulled my arm back towards me, my motions doing nothing to break his grip as I shook my head, “Oh no. Thank you, but I’ll be fine going home on my own.”

He stared at me, almost like he was surprised by my words before he let out a harsh sounding laugh, “Nah, there are a lot of criminals out and about right now. A lil shrimpy like you might get in a world of trouble on your own.”

And just like that, he shot down my polite refusal as he stood, hauling me to my feet with him as he turned and took off down the street. All but dragging me along behind him as I stumbled along, “I’ll getcha back home safe and sound, though. But-”

He paused, his long stride coming to a stop as he suddenly tugged on my arm, pulling me up alongside him so he could grin down at me. Sharp teeth perfectly on display as I swallowed thickly, bracing myself for whatever he was about to say.

“You gotta keep it a secret from your boss, ‘Kay~?” His tone was oddly sing-songy, and I felt myself distantly nod before I immediately frowned at myself. Because I wasn’t about to agree to letting this man walk me home. Even if he had caught me wholly off-guard.

But before I could hardly object, he took off down the street, somehow knowing the exact direction to head in as I stumbled after him. But after a moment, his long-legged pace slowed so that I could keep up as he glanced down at me.

“Jade’ll be mad if he finds out I walked you home, so this’ll be our secret~” I blinked at him in utter wary confusion as he held up one long finger to his mouth and winked at me.

Because was this man, bleeding though he was, really the criminal that everyone had been gossiping about? He certainly seemed…. Odd. But despite my initial panic, he hardly seemed as horrifying as the rumors made him sound.

He was, however, still suspicious.

I felt myself distantly nod even as I eyed him warily, “Right…. But how do you know the way to my house and that I work for Jade?”

If anything, his grin spread across his face, “I remembered it. You had to put your address on your paper when you applied to be his receptionist. Remember?”

If I could have frozen in place, I would’ve, but instead the man just kept pulling me along with him as he started humming. His jaunty tune wholly at odds with my chilled thoughts.

Because his words had one painfully obvious meaning. That he’d seen the paperwork for everyone who’d applied for my job. Which meant he definitely had some sort of connection to Jade.

It appeared there really was more to Jade than I’d realized, even despite my suspicions.

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realmsalot · 2 months ago

Text

Oh, How Forgetful Of You

"Did you see him," Caryn asks, breaking the heavy silence. "Did you see him before he died?"

"Yes," he answers truthfully. She already knows that it him who asked Stanley to come up here.

"Did ya two talk?" And he knows what she's hoping for. He knows what she's hoping he'll say.

Yes. We worked it out. We talked things through. We apologize to each other. He died knowing his twin loved him.

He doesn't have it in him to lie.

--------

Or my take on a reverse portal au. Enjoy :)

Edit: So this isn't done yet. I was writing this on Tumblr mobile and thought I saving this in my drafts when app decided to post it! So now I guess this is sneak peak for a really long oneshot I'm working on. So enjoy I guess. I will appreciate any feed back on this. Don't write your fics directly on Tumblr.

Edit Edit:

Started posting the actual fic. It's a chapter fic now. Ao3 link

---------------

It's a cold March day in Gravity Falls. There's a fresh layer of snow on the ground glistening in the cool sun. And yet, the signs of the upcoming spring are as clear as the current sky. The snow is a mere inch on the ground, no where near the hight it was earlier in the year. There are starts of new growth on the deciduous in the area and songs from a few individual birds of migrating species that came back a tad early.

It's a beautiful day.

Even at a funeral, he acknowledges that. He's pretty sure everyone else there does as well.

Stanford Pines stands in front of an empty grave, with a hallow coffin waiting to be put in by its side and staring at the name of his twin brother etch on the headstone.

He knows that the death date on the headstone is wrong. It says that his twin had died last week, when the Stanley Mobile had careened off a cliff and was later found with no body inside. When he sent it off that cliff with a cut of the breaks, a quick hot wiring of the car and the heaviest chunk of firewood he had on the pedal. Stan had loved that car. Ford remembers the face - the smile that Stan had when he first bought it at sixteen. He remembers Stanley shoving him into that car for the first time before they went for drive, where they drove it way too fast with the windows down and shouting kings of New Jersey at the top of their lungs to celebrate. Ford remembers the last time he got in that car, screwdriver in hand, and looking around for just a moment and seeing stolen motel bedding on the back seats and trash on the floor consisting of fast food wrappers, bags convince store snacks, and losing lottery tickets. Stanley had lived in that car.

And now, thanks to Ford, the only things left of that car are a burnt pile of metal in the dump, the license plate sitting on a table in his cabin, and an old photo he stole from the drivers visor.

The death date on the headstone is wrong, but Stanford doesn't know what the real date would be. By the time Stanley had come, Ford was so paranoid and sleep deprived he didn't know what day it was anymore. But he should know. Ford should know the date. Ford should know the date he sent his twin brother to his demise. And he hates that he doesn't.

A hand touches his shoulder, and Ford is startled out of his recently encrypted head. He looks over.

It's Ma. And she's staring at the headstone, too. They stay silent for a while.

When Ford saw her arrive, he was honestly surprised she came alone. He thought for sure that she would somehow drag Filbrick or Shermie along, but no. She came alone.

The only other guest that came, aside from Fiddleford who came here for Ford not Stan, was an IRS agent. (And Ford is pretty sure he heard him whisper to the, "I know you're not dead," while glancing at Ford. )

Did Stan really have no one?

"Did you see him," Caryn asks, breaking the heavy silence. "Did you see him before he died?"

"Yes," he answers truthfully. She already knows that it him who asked Stanley to come up here.

"Did ya two talk?" And he knows what she's hoping for. He knows what she's hoping he'll say.

Yes. We worked it out. We talked things through. We apologize to each other. He died knowing his twin loved him.

He doesn't have it in him to lie.

"We talked," he starts. Scenes of that night flash in his mind.

Stan's face filling with hope as Ford talks about their old childhood dream. The way it fell as Ford tells he to sail away.

"We argued..."

I'm giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won't even listen!

"We fought..."

Stanley’s scream as he kicks him back dowases the anger for a moment, and Fort starts to apologize. And then Stanley punches him in the face, and it all comes back.

"And then he..."

Stanley had pushed over the danger line. Now all Ford can see is the fear taking over his brother’s face as he floats up to the open maw of the portal. And Ford stupidity calls out for him to do something. To not let his creation- his mistake eat him.

And Stanley does.

He doesn't doesn't hesitate to jump and push Stanford away from the portal. Consequently pushing himself in. And all Ford could do is watch as his self made monster ate Stanley.

"...he left."

It's silent again for nothing but a moment before Caryn starts to sob. She pulls Stanford into a hug that he weakly returns and she cries into the hand-me-down suit his father gave him.

Ford's eyes don't leave the headstone again until long after the mostly empty coffin is buried.

He had killed his own brother.

.-- .... .- - / -.- .. -. -.. / --- ..-. / .- / -... .-. --- - .... . .-. / .- .-. . / -.-- --- ..-

Stanford had contacted Fiddleford not long after Stanley went through the portal.

He needed help to finish the mind encrypter because it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open and he knew that as soon as he closed them, Bill will come out and destroy it. He needed the mind encrypter to be finish and fast. He didn't know how much longer he could wait. So he went back to his ex-assistant, who (unfortunately) knows how to make machines that affect the mind best.

Ford was prepared to beg, having just lost a brother and just reached a breaking point that even his pride couldn't get to. But to his surprise, Fiddleford readily agreed. That was the second time that week someone whom he wouldn't want to see his again helped.

The mind encrypter got done in record time, and Stanford's mind was finally safe.

Then, for some reason, Fiddleford stuck around.

Then, for some reason, Fiddleford started acting like they're friends again.

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dem-obscure-imagines · 11 months ago

Text

You're So Timeless | Vol. 2

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year.

Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.

Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. This is PART 2. Part 1 is linked HERE.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.

Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)

Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female

The Recovery Period

When you woke up, Steve was there sitting in the infirmary, sleeping. His head was leaning back against the wall, snores deep and quiet. It was dark. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You blinked a few times and took a breath, your chest protesting when you did.

The monitor you were hooked to started beeping loudly and Steve awoke, meeting your eyes. He called for Bruce and stood from his chair, approaching the side of your bed. You reached for his hand and he gave it to you immediately, fingers latching onto yours, as though to prove you were awake, that you were alive.

Bruce arrived and gave you the rundown, the grenade, which you remembered, the fact that you had a cracked rib and quite a bit of bruising, but that you had gotten very lucky otherwise. He prescribed you some pain meds and six weeks of rest with a brace before he’d reevaluate.

And at first, it wasn’t bad. Sam played a lot of Fortnite with you. You were pretty good at it, surprisingly. Tony had a pretty extensive collection of movies and you had every snack you could ever dream of. You got some reading done, you picked up crochet, and everyone spent a lot of time entertaining you.

Bucky introduced himself. Steve had talked about him a bit before you met him, but the man standing in front of you was a lot quieter than you’d expected, more timid. You figured he’d open up more once he was convinced none of you were scared of him. And you weren’t. The dangerous part of him was the Winter Soldier, something Wanda had been working with him to unwind from the depths of his mind.

After a few days, when your pain had toned down a bit, Natasha sat you on a stool in the kitchen and gave your hair a trim, getting rid of the singed ends. Wanda got into the undercover stash in one of the bathrooms and found a few bottles of hair bleach and some blue dye. Steve found the three of you in there with hair shears, and a bowl of mixed blue dye that Wanda was painting onto your freshly bleached ends.

He had no complaints. After all, blue was your color. It was quite a bit shorter, too, but he thought it suited you. He thought everything suited you, to be honest.

You did some online shopping in those first few weeks. Your Avengers allowance was no joke and you had barely touched any of it yet, which meant a new reading chair was well within the budget, a cool round one than you could hang from the ceiling. It was Steve that found you pushing the giant box down the hall when it arrived.

“Hey! Woah, are you supposed to be pushing that?”

You froze, turning to face him. “Maaaaybe.”

“Alright, move.” He chuckled, rolling up his sleeves and taking over, pushing it down the hall to your room. “What is this anyway?”

“New reading chair. It’s really cool, it hangs from the ceiling.”

“And you were going to do that part, too?”

“I was gonna figure it out. Maybe use my powers for that part.”

“Ah, right. Forgot about those.”

“Me too, honestly. Haven’t used them much lately.”

“For good reason.” He straightened out, the box now sitting in the middle of your room. “How are you feeling, better?”

“A lot better. Still a little sore, but my bruises are starting to clear up.” You motioned to the brace you had to wear around your middle. “Might be out of this thing before six weeks if I can help it.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see what Bruce says.”

“Of course.” You nodded, using a pair of scissors to slice the tape along the top of the box.

Steve opened it up and started taking parts out. You reached for the instructions and sat down next to him on the floor, familiarizing yourself with the process. It didn’t look too difficult and it was only a few pieces of hardware.

“I’m gonna go grab some of Tony’s tools.” He told you, walking towards Tony’s workroom. He returned a few minutes later with a drill and a screwdriver. “Alright, where are we starting?”

“Okay, so we attach the chair part to the support chains, and then those get screwed into the ceiling. Like this.” You showed him the diagram.

“I’m no handyman, but I think we can figure it out.” He grinned, scooting a little closer to you.

“Oh I’m sure we can.”

It didn’t take long. Less than an hour. The two of you talked, joked, laughed. Eventually, you used your powers to hold the thing in place so Steve could screw it into the ceiling. He got off the stepladder and sat in the chair, testing the strength of the chair himself before deciding it was good enough for you. With a smile, he got up and motioned for you to give it a try.

You put the cushions on the chair and sat down, smiling. “I’ve always wanted a chair like this.”

“Well I’m glad I could help that dream come true.” He chuckled. He handed you the book sitting on your desk. “Here, give it a real test.”

“Oh good idea.” You chuckled, positioning the book in your hands, curling your legs into your desired reading position. Yep, it worked. And it was pretty comfortable. “Now all I need is a little lamp over here.”

“Let me know when that comes in.” Steve chuckled, thumbs tucked into his pockets. “I’ll be here.”

Steve watched you with a soft smile, how happy you were. Maybe someday, he would build other things for you, in a house you shared. A nice little place in the suburbs, or on a farm somewhere, like Clint had made for his wife, Laura. He’d build you a million reading chairs. Hell, he’d build you a whole library if it’d put that smile on your face.

“You ever built Legos before?” you asked.

“I don’t even know what those are.”

“Alright, we’ll fix that. There’s a really easy fix to that, actually.” You pulled out your phone, clicked a few links, and then looked back up at him with a smile. “It’s on its way.”

“What’s that look for?”

“You will find out in two to three business days.”

***

By the time your Millennuim Falcon Lego set came in, Steve had been sent on another mission. And while he was gone, the Compound got an unexpected visitor in the form of Scott Lang, who Sam found on the roof and promptly got his ass kicked by while you were sitting at the monitors, one of the only things that you could do with your current injury.

“Don’t tell Steve.”

“Oh I won’t.” You spun out of your office chair, made a portal to the warehouse, and stepped through it, using your augmented goggles to find the guy, trapping him in a tiny forcefield. Sam came into the warehouse shortly after, looking at the bubble you’d made with interest.

“Got him. Ow!” Something nipped at your ankle and you looked down to find hundreds of ants. “Oh FUCK no.” You dropped him and kicked off the ants, making a platform of energy to stand on so they couldn’t crawl on you.

“Hey man, she’s injured!” Sam called into the room, looking around for wherever he had gone.

“Sorry!” The attacker replied.

And that was the last you saw or heard from him until Sam tracked him down, offering him membership on the team, if he so wanted it. Someone who shrunk could be a great asset on the team. Which is why when he told the rest of you about Hope, someone who did the same but with wings, obviously, she was invited, too.

The team was growing, and as it did, the Compound felt less empty, which was nice, especially when the team was split off doing their own things.

Steve came back shortly after, looking tired. It hadn’t been anything too bad, from what you’d heard, but he, Natasha, Clint, and Tony had been gone for a week. Still, the moment he was back, he popped his head into your room.

“Hey.”

“When did you guys get back?” You asked, looking up from your book, curled up in your reading chair.

“Just now. Um, I’m gonna take a shower, and then…Legos?” He asked, eyes earnest. You could tell he had been thinking about it the whole time he’d been gone.

“Oh absolutely. I’ve got ‘em ready to go.”

“Excellent. See you in twenty.” He saluted, walking down the hall to his room. You got the massive box of Legos out of your closet and brought it out to the table in the lounge, waiting patiently for Steve, who got out of the shower not that long after, dressed in sweats and a tank-top, still a bit damp from the water.

“Tadaaaa~” you said, pushing the box across the table.

His eyes lit up as soon as he realized what it was. “Where did you get this?”

“Amazon.”

“It comes with Han Solo?” Steve asked, looking at the pictures of the minifigures on the box.

“Yeah, of course it does. Comes with Leia, too.” You grinned, opening the box and dealing out instruction manuals, sorting the bags into neat little piles.

“This is great.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged. “I owe you one for building my reading chair. Now pay attention; This little orange thing is a Lego separator. It’ll help if you get them stuck together and can’t get them apart. Oh, and do not step on them. It will hurt so bad.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for the heads-up. So where do we start?”

Catch Me Now

Finally, after what felt like the longest recovery period ever, you were cleared once more for missions and training. However, you didn’t have any at the moment. Missions, that was. You were back to training with the others three times a week. Steve had you back on a workout regimen, but he was treating you different, like at any moment your rib might randomly re-crack.

Wanda and Vision got sent off on a mission with Clint, a recruitment mission. Apparently, there was another archer on his radar. A good one. It was his hope that with another archer on the team, he could take a bit of a step back, still be involved when he was needed, but hopefully, he’d be able to spend some more time with his family.

This meant, however, that you didn’t have anyone to go to the local theater’s Hunger Games marathon with. You asked Natasha first, but she was busy looking through some files, working out the details of the coming missions.

“I think Steve is here today. You could ask him if he wants to go.”

You could, you supposed. You felt a lot closer to him, lately. You had been spending a lot of time with him, between the extra training and the Legos. He had custody of the Millennium Falcon set, but he’d given you the Leia minifigure. She was sitting on your desk in your room.

So, with a shrug, you agreed, walking down the hall to Steve’s room and knocking on the door. He and Bucky were in there, talking hushedly about something, but they quieted at the sound of your knuckles against the wood.

The door opened and Bucky looked down at you, smiling when he realized who it was. “Oh, hey, (Y/N).” He welcomed you in, shooting Steve a look.

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s going on?”

“If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“Oh, no, we’re just…catching up.” Steve said.

“Gotcha. So um…Wanda was supposed to go to a movie marathon with me at the mall today, but she forgot she had to go on that mission, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I already bought the tickets.”

“Oh, sure. What movies?”

“The Hunger Games.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Steve nodded. “Just let me get changed.”

“You can come too, if you want, Bucky. I’m sure they’re not sold out.”

“Oh, that is alright, (Y/N). Thank you, though. I’ve gotta work myself up to public outings.” He looked between the two of you, a weird sparkle in his eye. “You two have fun.”

“Will do.” Steve replied, chuckling as his friend left.

You left after, getting changed into the outfit you’d picked out. It was pretty simple: a bleach-dyed Hunger Games shirt, some comfy joggers for the long day ahead, and a pair of slip-on shoes. You grabbed your purse and walked back out to the living room, where Steve was waiting, dressed in his civilian disguise, a baseball cap and glasses. No one would ever recognize him in glasses.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” You nodded, plucking your keys off of the hook by the door.

“Oh, I can drive.” Steve offered.

“Okay.” You agreed, putting your keys back.

He picked up his instead, from the hook next to yours. You walked out and got in Steve’s car, hopping in the passenger seat. The mall was about an hour out. Steve took the backroads, the scenic route. But you didn’t have to give him directions. He knew where he was going. After all, it was the same mall where he had met you.

You gazed out the window, watching the trees go by, looking for deer. Steve gazed over at you every so often, thinking about how someday, when you were driving places, he’d be able to reach over and take your hand, bring it to his lips. His heart ached just thinking about it. The next four and a half months couldn’t pass quickly enough.

“So what are these movies about? I keep hearing about them.” He asked, desperate to hear your voice.

“Are you familiar with the dystopian genre?”

“Yeah, kinda. Like weird, bad future kinda stuff.”

“Exactly. So this one is in a world called Panem, which is supposed to be North America hundreds of years from now. There’s twelve districts and a Capitol that rules over them all. Because of a rebellion about seventy-four years earlier, every year, two kids are chosen from each district to battle to the death in an arena.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah it’s kind of a lot. It’s really good, though. Lots of commentary on the United States government. No offense.”

He chuckled. “None taken. The America I stood for back then…I’m learning it was a different America from the one we live in now. But it’s hard to shake a name that’s been stuck with you for the better part of a century.”

“What would you choose?”

“What name?”

“Yeah, if you got to choose again, now, what codename would you choose?”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Something cool. I’d need help workshopping. And you? If you got to choose again?”

“I’m good with Waypoint. For a while, at least.” You shrugged. “It’s kinda fitting, all things considered.”

“It is. Suits you.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “So how is everything? How is Bucky doing?”

“Good. They’re um, scheduling a day to test out his…what’re they called, his trigger words? To see if Wanda’s tinkering in his head has been working.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like a lot.”

“It is. He’s nervous, but he knows it has to be done.” Steve sighed and gave a shrug. “And whatever happens, he’s got us to catch him, figure out what comes next.”

“Absolutely.” You nodded.

Steve pulled into the mall parking lot, following the signs to find the doors closest to the theater. You handed him his ticket, which was printed on shimmery, gold paper, the Mockingjay symbol stamped on in black ink. You reached into your pocket and handed him a length of string with beads on it.

“I made it for Wanda, so it might not fit.” You warned.

He read the words, spaced between orange and black and gold beads. “District 12?”

“It’ll make more sense in a bit.” You chuckled and held out your wrist, where the matching one was. “Gotta represent.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He slipped the bracelet on, the beads spaced out and stretched around his wide wrist. “See, fits fine.”

“Uh-huh, sure does.” You laughed. “Look, it fits perfectly. You can almost read it.”

“Just about.” He grinned, reaching for the door handle.

“So, what’s our cover?”

“What?”

“Our cover. We can’t be Avengers here.”

“Right, um…” Steve thought for a moment. “You work at the library. I’m your boyfriend and you dragged me here, but I’m very supportive.”

“The most supportive.” You agreed. “Alright, I’ll play. Let’s go.”

Steve locked up the car, the horn honking as the two of you walked towards the entrance of the mall. You led him upstairs to the movie theater entrance. You checked in with your tickets and the girls at the table gave you your commemorative popcorn tins and cups. Steve went to get the popcorn filled. You stood over by the soda fountains. He returned with a huge grin and a bucket of popcorn.

“Look at this! They’re so big now.”

You laughed. “How big were they before?”

“Little paper bag.” He chuckled and turned towards the Cocacola Freestyle machine, looking at the buttons with wonder. “Alright what is this?”

“The future of beverage technology.” You told him, putting ice in your cup and tapping one of the beverage options, opening up all the extra flavors before choosing yours.

Steve poked the Coke button and read over all the options before settling on Cherry Vanilla Coke. He snapped the lid on and put a straw in it, taking a cursory sip. He smiled. “Takes me back.”

“Got that vintage taste?” You asked.

He nodded. “At the risk of sounding like a commercial, yeah, it does.”

You led Steve to the theater where you’d be spending the entire rest of the day. You walked him through the schedule. First was Hunger Games from noon until 2:22. There’d be a ten minute break, then Catching Fire from 2:32 to 4:58. There was a forty-five minute break for dinner. Then Mockingjay Parts 1 and 2 until just after ten. Every movie, they punched a hole in your ticket, and if you got all four, they were handing out little prizes, supposedly. You weren’t sure what yet, but you were excited to find out.

“Got a long day ahead of us.”

“I better not catch you nodding off.” You teased, kicking back the recliner.

“I don’t snore that loud.” He said, following your lead and pressing the same button to lift his. God, theaters had changed. He set the popcorn tin between the two of you. He couldn’t count on two hands how many pointless dates he’d gone on with Bucky before he met you for the first time, how many pretty dames he’d offered popcorn, only for them to completely blow him off. But when he’d taken you to the movies back then, you’d shared gladly. And today was no different. You scooted closer, your hand brushing his every so often.

The movie started and Steve watched, enamored. It was different than the movies he was used to, sure. Maybe Star Wars had warmed him up, or maybe it was the fact that you were sitting there beside him, but he loved every second.

Between movies, the two of you went back out to the lobby to get your tickets punched for Catching Fire, stretch your legs and get refills. Steve noticed a handout for the flashback movies that were coming up. His eyes landed on the Wizard of Oz and his gaze softened.

“They still show this?” Steve asked, pointing to the poster.

“Yeah, every handful of years. It’s a classic.” You smiled. “I think I was Dorothy for Halloween one year.”

“Would you go see it with me?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

Sure, things were different between you and Steve than he thought it would be. He knew it would be a while before you’d know. You’d told him you’d been friends for about a year before visiting him, but it felt so much longer, living through every day, scared to even take your hand without sending the wrong message.

You saved him the trouble, though, reaching out for his free hand. He took it without hesitation, giving it a squeeze. God, he’d do anything to kiss you, but he knew that would be stepping clear over that line. Holding hands was friendly enough. Hell, you held Wanda’s hand all the time and that didn’t mean anything. He was pretty sure, anyway.

“Where’d you go just now?” You asked, your hand his anchor in the moment, keeping him from drifting back off into the past again.

“Nowhere, I just…this is nice. Thanks for taking me out.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”

You went back into the theater, hand in hand, carrying your refills. This time, you’d gotten a slushee, and he had decided to do the same. You settled back into your seats, assuming your spots with the people you had been sitting near before. If anything, there were even more people in the theater for Catching Fire.

Steve took a sip of the slushee, looking over at you. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, it’s ice.” You laughed. “Do you like it?”

He scrunched his face. “Ooh, brainfreeze.”

“You’ve gotta go slow.”

“Lesson learned.”

The lights dimmed and you grinned, looking back at the screen, missing the longing look in Steve’s eyes, admiring the way your face was lit by the glow. And in those seats, once again, he was that little guy from Brooklyn, watching a movie with his soulmate.

***

Two and a half hours later, the theater lights went up and you had forty-five minutes to kill until the next one started. You wandered down to the food court to get something to eat.

“So what did he mean there’s no District 12?” Steve asked when you settled down at one of the tables. Shoppers walked all around, laden with paper bags full of goods. It was a kind of busy day, actually, but it was fine. You liked to peoplewatch.

“When the books came out, I had to wait a whole year to get the answer. I think you can handle the next forty minutes.”

“There are books?”

“I have them. You can borrow them. And they are even better than the movies, if you can believe that.”

“They must be pretty damn good, then.” He chuckled. “You want to shop around a bit? We’ve still got some time.”

“Oh absolutely. There’s a Lego store here.”

Steve grinned. “They have a whole store for those?”

The two of you finished eating, threw out your trash, and then walked down the hallway to the Lego Store. Steve browsed some of the boxes. There were a lot of cool things. Buildings he recognized, landmarks, things from movies he hadn’t gotten to watch yet. There were also flowers. Lots of flowers, and Van Gogh’s Starry Night. He could see himself building any number of them with you.

You were over by the minifigure bags, squishing them to feel which character was inside. Steve chuckled, but didn’t question your process. Instead, he wandered over to a rotating display of minifigure keychains. A few caught his eye, but more than anything, you did. That was, a keychain of you, in your suit, that eight-pointed star on your chest. Right next to it was him, shield and all. He chuckled and then grabbed one of each, heading towards the checkout.

By the time you caught up with him, he had already paid.

“What did you get?” you asked through your giggles.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled, voice soft, eyes softer.

“Alright. Keep your secrets.” You chuckled.

Steve took your hand, walking back towards the theater. You got one last refill for the last two movies, got your cards punched, and headed back inside to finish off the saga.

***

At the end of the night, all the people who had been there for all four movies got a t-shirt, a Mockingjay pin, and a mini poster. Along with the tin and cups they’d given you, you’d say it was definitely worth the ticket price. You and Steve walked out to the car together and sat in the seats for a while before either of you spoke.

“Thanks for coming today, Steve.”

“Oh, any time, (Y/N). We should do it again sometime.”

“I’ll let you know if I catch wind of a Star Wars marathon.”

He grinned. “Oh please do. I’d love to see those on the big screen.”

He pulled out of the parking spot and drove off the lot. By the time you got back, almost everyone was asleep. Almost. Bucky was on the couch, watching something, volume on low. He looked up when the two of you came in the door.

“Fun time?” He asked.

“Oh, very.” You laughed kicking off your boots and setting them in your slot on the shoe shelf.

Steve plucked your keys off of your hook and, very efficiently, added his top secret Lego purchase to yours, the keychain of himself.

“Oh my God.” You giggled, looking at it. “This is great.”

“We match.” He said, holding up his own keys, which already had the keychain of you on them.

Your heart just about melted. “We sure do. God, you’re giving my soulmate some awfully big shoes to fill, Steve.”

“Well,” he smiled, and suddenly, he was that little guy from Brooklyn again, at your height, in awe of the woman the universe had plopped directly onto his front porch. “I’m sure he’ll grow into them.”

Mr. Perfectly Fine

You had training early, almost all hands on deck. Tony was on a business trip, Thor was on Asgard. But otherwise, everyone was accounted for. Clint’s new recruit, Kate, seemed nice. She was twenty-three, fresh out of college, and really did have quite a shot. She might shape up to be a pretty good Hawkeye after all.

Scott and Hope were there as well. Hope was extremely skilled. You could tell she’d practiced for a while, knew her suit and the Pym Particles inside and out. And Scott was also there. He was nice, there was no question about that, but you could tell he still had a lot to learn about the crazy world he’d stepped into. Still, it was nice to have them around regardless.

Tony hadn’t officially inducted them to the team, and there had been no party announcing such a thing. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was waiting for someone. One more member, perhaps, before making it official.

You had been in…something of a mood since your little outing with Steve. It had been a blast, sure, but it had also been a reminder: Steve had a soulmate, in the past tense. There was a name on his wrist. And your bare wrist meant that it wasn’t you. You had a soulmate out there somewhere, human or super, whether you wanted them or not.

Steve was perfect for you. But you couldn’t have him.

And god, did it hurt.

You trained hard, hitting the punching bag that occupied what was usually Steve’s corner. He was there a lot, blowing off steam. Now you got it; it felt good to hit something. You spun, kicking the bag.

“You’re unbalanced.” Bucky piped up, walking over.

You looked up at him, watching his movements, but he didn’t mean any harm. Obviously he didn’t. He’d passed his mind-control test with flying colors. He was a free man now, and he was a lot lighter because of it.

“Am I?”

“You’ve gotta shift your weight a little, really plant that other leg.” He instructed, adjusting your body, hands gentle but firm. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you from across the room, but he didn’t come over. “Otherwise they’re gonna push you right over.”

“Well thanks. I appreciate it.” You said, giving the tip a try. “I haven’t done enough hand-to-hand.”

“We’ll get ya there. I’m surprised Steve hasn’t been working on it with you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Things have been weird since the Hunger Games.”

“I noticed.” Bucky chuckled. “I’ll talk to him. See what’s going on in that head of his.”

“It’s not his fault. I’ve been the weird one.”

“Oh. Need to talk about it?”

“No, I just…I need to work through some stuff.”

Working through stuff meant that after training, you went straight to your room, closed the door, and started listening to your angst playlist, spread like a starfish across your king-sized mattress. And that was how Nat found you almost an hour later.

“Knock-knock, I’m coming in.” She said, opening the door. “Hey. Why are you listening to Songs for Sad Bitches in here?”

“What? How’d you—?”

“Your playlist name is on the screen out here when you play stuff on the built-in speakers.”

“Embarrassing.”

“Happens to the best of us.” She shrugged, closing the door behind her and sitting on the bed. “So, why are we sad bitches today?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You can’t talk about it, or you can’t talk about it here?”

“The second of those options, yeah.”

She dangled your keys from her hand, the little tiny Captain America taunting you. “Thought so. Let’s get out of here. Kate hasn’t been to the mall yet and she needs to buy some more clothes.”

“Alright. I could go for some mall pretzels.”

So, for the second time in a week, you piled into a car and headed off towards the mall. This time, however, you were with your friends, Wanda, Nat, and Kate, not your unattainable work crush.

Wanda loved the mall. Seeing her that happy almost made your heartache go away. The four of you shopped around. You picked out a few new tops, some accessories, a cute bag, and it was a nice distraction until you passed the Lego Store. You got some pretzel bites and hunkered down in the food court with the others.

“Alright. Spill.” Nat urged.

Wanda offered a sad little smile and Kate looked up, waiting to see where this was heading. She was new to the team, which meant she was new to the drama, too.

“I don’t know, just…going out with Steve…”

“What, you don’t like him?” Nat asked, prodding.

“The opposite.”

“Then why are you all torn up about it?”

“Because I can’t have him.” You said, pushing a pretzel bite around in the cup of cheese. “He has a soulmate.”

“Had. In the forties.”

“Right, but…I turn twenty-five in what, like four months now? And then I get whoever and…I need to let him go before I get hurt, but I can’t.” You sighed. “Or before I hurt him, leading him on just to run off into the sunset with someone else…I just feel like shit about the whole situation.”

Natasha sat there with the perfect poker face, giving a sly little smile. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise. And if not, you’ve got us here to catch you.”

“What she said.” Kate agreed.

“It will be fine, (Y/N).” Wanda promised, patting your hand. “My birthday is first. Let me be the stressed one.” She let out an incredulous laugh. “I have a crush on an android.”

“Hey, if any robot has a soul, it’s gotta be Vision.” You said, eyes soft. “Obviously, he doesn’t have a mark, but, if your wrist has his name…”

“That would be enough for both of us.” Wanda agreed, nodding. “It’s weird. I know…I know he’s the one but I still have to wait. I wish if you figured it out early, the universe would just let you have it.”

Natasha looked to the rest of you, soaking in silence for a moment before taking off the cuff she wore around her wrist. “Alright, it’s been a secret long enough.”

“Woah, Nat…” You gave her a moment to back out, but she held up her wrist, letting the rest of you read the name on her wrist. Bucky. Her soulmate was Bucky. It…made a lot of sense, actually. The way he looked at her during training, the way she kept herself so guarded around him. “Does he know?”

“Unclear.” Natasha shrugged. “I, uh…Steve said he wasn’t sure. And Bucky’s memories are a little fuzzy. The Red Room tried to get rid of our marks. Said they made us liabilities. When I got out, they hadn’t found a way to do it yet. It showed up a few years after that.”

“Is that like…still around?” Kate asked. “The Red Room?”

“Unfortunately.”

The word sat on the table for a few long moments before you said, “What if we took it down?”

Something sparked in Natasha’s eyes and she met your gaze. “Elaborate.”

“I’m serious. The four of us,” you thought for a moment and then it clicked, “Hope.”

“Maria.” Natasha said, putting the pieces together herself. “I mean, that’s really all we’d need. Plus a location and a plan.”

“Oh my god, are we going on a mission?” Kate asked, lighting up at the prospect of her very first real mission.

Nat grinned. “Yeah, I think we are.”

I Can See You

Steve caught wind of Operation: Red Room before you’d so much as suited up. Of course he didn’t think it was a good idea. After your accident, he still saw you as fragile. You were fine. Your ribs were fine. They’d healed better than even Bruce had expected them to. Still, that look in his eyes said otherwise.

“I’m just not sure this is something you should be doing on your own.”

“We can’t bring you. We can’t bring Bucky. It’d be handing them two supersoldiers on a silver platter.”

“So you’re just gonna waltz in there instead?”

“Yep.” You replied, lighting a little forcefield around your fist and holding it up as evidence. “I can handle myself, remember?”

His eyes softened. “I know that.”

“Then why are you still fighting me on this? Do you seriously think Natasha would let anything happen to me? Do you think Wanda would?”

“What if they have something that disables your powers? Both of your powers.”

“If they did, they’d have used it already.”

He sighed, muscled arms crossed, pink lips pressed into a pout. “(Y/N)...”

“You’re not talking me out of this.” Not even with those pretty blues, you sneaky bastard. “Besides, it was my idea. I’m not leaving the girls hanging.”

His eyes widened. “It was your idea?”

“Well, it was a group effort, but I’m the one that put it into words, yeah.” You shrugged. “If you didn’t think I could handle being an Avenger, why did you recruit me?”

“I never said that.” His jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I just…I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then trust me to do this.” You told him, resting a hand on his chest. “And trust me to come back to you.”

He met your eyes, melting at your touch before relenting, “Okay. But be careful, alright? Promise me.”

“I promise. I always am. You guys should be here to hold down the fort anyway, in case they retaliate.”

He nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be here.”

You walked down to the locker rooms and suited up, making sure everything was tugged tight, belt equipped with both real guns and stun guns. Natasha had told the rest of you there was brainwashing afoot with the Widows that were still in the Red Room. If you could help it, the goal was to get them out without hurting them. That was where Wanda came in. Her specialty.

You all loaded up into the jet, Maria Hill joining you as your getaway pilot. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work with her yet, so you were excited to. You rehashed the plan on the way. The Red Room was housed in a floating base, which was why it was so untraceable; it was always moving.

You, Kate, and Wanda were on Widow duty. Wanda would dispel their brainwashing, and you and Kate would deal with the physical cells and deal with any guards standing in your way. Once the brainwashing was handled, Wanda would go with Nat to kill Dreykov himself, the man in charge who had escaped countless assassination attempts. This time, she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Hope was going to shrink down and destroy the place from the inside, and once everyone was out and safe, Maria would fly you all to safety.

Ideally, anyway.

Steve saw you off, standing in the driveway as you flew off.

“Natasha wasn’t kidding. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” Maria chuckled.

“You could say that.”

At the moment, the Red Room was hovering over a suburb in Maine, nearing the Canadian border. Any closer and it would become an international incident. It had to be now. Maria cloaked the jet as it approached, hiding it from onlookers, obviously, but also, hopefully, from the Red Room itself. Though, their sensors were very advanced so there was no way of knowing until you got closer. That put you on edge.

So, instead, you turned to Kate. “First mission today. You ready?”

“Oh hell yeah. I’ve been waiting for this.” Kate nodded. She slung her quiver over her shoulder. “What was yours?”

“The local county fair.” You chuckled. “Though, I guess if you count my first encounter with a bad guy, it was at the mall, guy with a flamethrower and a dream. He is in jail now.”

“That is typically what happens when you dream of arson.” Natasha said, grinning. “Thank you all. For this. For coming.”

“We’ve got you, Nat. They did some pretty awful shit to you. Time to make them pay for it.”

“Speaking of, ready up, ladies. We are two minutes out.”

Power crackled in your fingertips. You were ready to go. Well, as ready as you could be.

Maria pulled up to the docking bay and the five of you got out. Hope lowered her helmet visor, saluted, and then shrunk, flying off into the vents. The other four set off in a linear path, up the winding hallways towards where they kept the Widows.

The hall was bathed in red light, dim. It set you on edge. Natasha led the way, motioning the rest of you on. You noticed as you approached each camera, it flicked off, the heads of them tilting down.

Oh right, Hope. Awesome.

You approached a series of rooms, doors all identical. They slid open when you approached, and sure enough, two dozen women came charging at you all at once, dressed in identical athleisure. Wanda waved her hands, red mist cascading down the hall, their eyes filling. It took a moment, but they all stopped, looking around at each other for some idea of what was going on.

“Natasha?” One of the voices in the crowd said, a blonde girl with wide eyes. “You came?”

Natasha nodded, smiling. “Of course I did.”

“You’re the Avengers.” The girl said, looking at the rest of you. “You’re really here.”

“Some of us. Come on, we’ve got a ship waiting.” You told her.

The girl looked at you and then back at Natasha.

“Go with her.” Natasha instructed. “I’ll be back in like five minutes. Tops.”

“What’s your name?” Kate asked, starting to lead the others back to the ship.

“I’m Yelena. Natasha’s sister.”

As you led them back down the hall, armored guards rounded the corner. You made forcefields at their feet, tripping them up. Kate shot arrows down the barrels of their weapons, causing a few small explosions. The Widows fought with you, taking out anyone that approached. Soon enough, you got to the docking bay, which exploded as soon as you approached.

You put up a shield between the rest of you and the explosion, blocking the girls from the flying debris. Okay, that put a wrench in things a little bit.

“What are we gonna do?” Kate asked, looking to you, the reflection of the flames shimmering against her skin.

“I’ve got an idea.” You said, approaching the opening carefully, wind whipping all around. Maria was still piloting the jet, doing her best to get close to the massive hole.

You made a platform with your power, curving it up at the edges, like a giant spoon. Slowly, you slid it across the gap to the jet. Maria got the hint, turning it around and opening the ramp. You made another platform and two of the Widows hopped in without hesitation. Slowly, you started the process of feeding them all across, two by two until everyone was in the jet. Everyone except you.

“Hey.” Hope said, landing and returning to full size, out of breath. “What did I miss?”

“Not too much.”

“Want a lift?”

“Why not?” You shrugged. Hope took your hand, flying you across the gap and into the ship. That just left Wanda and Nat unaccounted for.

You watched anxiously, waiting, waiting, waiting. Nothing.

“Hope, how long before this thing blows?”

“A few minutes.”

“Fuck.” You shook your head. You pressed a finger to your earpiece. “Nat, Wanda, do you copy?”

Radio silence.

“(Y/N), there they are.” Kate pointed. She really did have eagle eyes.

“I’ll get them.” Hope offered until an enemy ship opened fire.

“I’ve got it.” You said, channeling something deeper. Instead of making a bubble, you formed a tunnel of shimmering blue energy from the platform they were standing on to the back of the jet. “Hold her steady, Maria!”

“As steady as I can.”

A few explosions started at the back of the base, setting off a chain reaction. The two of them ran through the tunnel, its energy shielding them from the fire, the debris, and the rain of bullets. Wanda sped them along, until they were safe and sound, in the jet again.

Maria closed up the door as more explosions went off. You lowered your hands, letting the energy dispel. She flew off to a safe distance. The rest of you watched in awe as the Red Room fell, crumbling to bits, to ashes and ruin.

Yelena hugged Natasha, thanking her. Natasha apologized for not coming sooner. And the rest of the Widows were able to rest, breathing free for the first time in years.

***

The first stop on the docket was a SHIELD base in New York to drop off the majority of the Widows. SHIELD had a plan in place to get them back into society, integrated, rehabilitated, whatever they needed.

The second stop, of course, was Taco Bell, for refreshments.

The third stop was home, where Steve was waiting at the dinner table, chin resting against his folded hands, Bucky sitting across from him. He whipped around at the sound of the door opening. You, Kate, Wanda, Natasha, Hope, and Yelena were talking and laughing, laden with bags of fast food.

His eyes fell on yours first and it was like time stopped.

“How did it go?”

“Good. I got you a Baja Blast.” You said, setting the large cup of the teal drink in front of him.

He stared at it for a long moment before looking back up at you. “You…”

“I’m alright, Steve. We all are. And, uh, we have a new teammate.”

He finally spotted Yelena in the mix. “Oh?”

“Natasha has a sister.” You shrugged, sitting down and unpacking your order. “Apparently.”

Speaking of whom, Natasha walked up to Bucky, looked him in the eye, and said, “Barnes. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, following her into another room.

“Wonder what that’s about.” Steve murmured, sticking a straw into the drink he kept staring at like it was a potion you’d plucked from a fantasy realm. You supposed teal was kind of an odd color for a drink…

You smirked. “I have some idea.”

“She told you?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It makes a lot of sense. The way he looks at her…”

He nodded. “Like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You sighed and then shook out of it, motioning to the drink. “Alright, let me know what you think.”

He took a first sip, holding it in his mouth for a second before swallowing. The smile on his face grew. “It’s sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

“A little.” He chuckled, going in for another sip. “No, maybe…maybe I do like it.”

“Uh-huh. Think about it.” You laughed.

Yelena sat down next to you. “Is this seat taken? I’m starving.”

“Have at it.”

“Alright, well, you girls have fun. I’m headed to bed.” He held up his cup. “Thanks for the drink. Glad you’re home safe.”

“Night, Steve.”

Yelena looked at you, wonder in her eyes. As soon as he was out of earshot, she said, “Oooh, tell me everything.”

You chuckled. “Where do I even start?”

Champagne Problems

Two weeks later, you got dressed for Wanda’s twenty-fifth birthday outing. It would be just the girls, headed to a club nearby. Wanda would turn twenty-five just after midnight and she didn’t want to be in the same building with Vision if she was going to get her heart broken. It wasn’t a bad plan, all things considered.

You were wearing a black dress, knee-length, form-fitting, paired with a dark red lip, and of course, the star necklace Steve had gotten for you all those months ago. You let your fingers linger on it in your reflection before throwing on your heels and walking out to the living room to wait for the others.

Steve was on the couch, watching the Muppets Movie.

“See? I wasn’t lying about Gonzo.”

“You weren’t.” He laughed. He opened his mouth to make a quip, but it died on his tongue when he got a good look at you, eyes softening. “You got a date tonight? You’re all dolled up.”

“Huh? No.” You laughed. “It’s girls’ night.”

“Didn’t you just have girls’ night? I believe it involved several explosives.”

“Right, well, Wanda turns twenty-five just after midnight, so we’re going out again. This time hopefully with less explosions.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, ya look great.”

You blushed. “Thanks.”

“You hear about Nat and Buck?”

“It’s official.” You grinned. “I’m happy for them.”

“Me too. They’ve both been through so much. They deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Steve.”

He tilted his head, giving you that sad smile. “I am. Promise.”

The other girls came into the living room before you had the chance to respond. Nat was hand-in-hand with Bucky, who kissed her on the cheek before releasing her and joining Steve on the couch, grinning like he’d won the lottery. In a way, he had.

“Let’s get a move on, birthday girl.” Natasha said, slinging an arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “The night is young.”

She looked back longingly where Vision was hovering in the corner of the room. “Be back soon.”

“Text me when you find out.” He said.

“I will.” She promised, eyes brimming with tears.

You took her hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. She squeezed it back, meeting your eyes and offering a smile.

The five of you piled into the car. Hope wasn’t coming because she was in San Francisco for the weekend, but Yelena was. She seemed determined to experience all the life she’d missed out on thus far. You couldn’t blame her in the slightest.

The club was lively, music pulsing loudly. There were lots of birthdays being celebrated, it turned out, announced by party hats, birthday crowns and sashes, and the periodic cheers of groups of people, yelling out in excitement when their friends learned who their lives were promised to. It was kind of magical.

You ordered a drink, downing it quickly and surrendering to the fuzzy feeling at the edges of your mind. You were pretty sure the last time you’d been drunk was your induction to the team. You remembered that night with Steve, how he looked at you, how it felt. And then you ordered a second drink, dancing to the music with the girls, trying to forget your worries, even if only for the night.

A guy approached you, a look in his eye. He eyed up your bare wrist. “No soulmate?”

“Not yet. A few months too early for that.”

“Then would you mind if I swept you off your feet for the night?”

“Sorry, I…I’m here for my friend. It’s her twenty-fifth.”

He scoffed, looking you up and down before stalking off towards his next victim. “Alright. Your loss.”

“Asshole.” Yelena rolled her eyes, taking your hands and spinning you around on the dance floor. You let her, dancing along. “I do not blame you, (Y/N). If I were you, I wouldn’t settle either. Not for that.”

You laughed. “Yeah, not my thing.”

“You’ve never…?”

“Well, a little. In high school, we used to have parties where we ‘practiced’ for our soulmates. It never got any further than a little spin the bottle, though.” You confessed.

“Ah, see, I’ve had practice. But it never meant anything. Red Room, bleh.” Yelena shrugged. “I am ready for something real.”

“How long you got left?”

“Another year.”

“I’ve got three and a half months.”

“So I’ve heard. I bet you are excited, being so close to it.”

“Excited, nervous.” You laughed, shrugging. “I kinda just want to rip the Band-Aid off, get it over with.”

“I’m sure.” She motioned Kate over and she joined the two of you, dancing to the beat. “Kate Bishop, how long do you have left?”

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Ah, well, then you have lots of time to party.” Yelena grinned, spinning her around. “We should really do this more often.”

You chuckled. Yelena had only been part of your little family for a few weeks, but already you could tell she was going to be a handful in the best way.

Eventually, you wandered back over to Wanda, who was standing in the corner of the room, nursing a single glass of Vodka Cran.

“Hey, birthday girl. You doing okay?” You asked.

She nodded, irises ringed with red, as they often were when she was stressed. She blinked a few times, forcing them back to hazel. “Doing great.”

“Wanda, whoever they are, they’re so lucky to have someone like you.” You took her hand. “Now let’s go dance and forget about it for the next hour.”

She smiled. “Lead the way.”

***

In what seemed like no time at all, midnight came. Natasha ordered a bottle of champagne and each of you got a glass. Wanda sat on a barstool, staring at her wrist. From right next to her, you had a pretty good view, watching with a racing heart as a string of letters appeared, darkening into existence.

The Vision.

She burst into tears, hitting the call button on her phone. He picked up on the first ring.

“It’s you, Vis! I knew it was you!”

The rest of you gathered your things, eager to reunite them as soon as you could. Your thoughts were racing, though. You’d never really thought of it before, but…your soulmate could be someone you already knew. Someone you were already in love with.

Someone who was already in love with you.

Maybe there was some hope after all…

The Origin

Only weeks after your night in the club, you found yourself in yet another bar. This time, it wasn’t for fun, though. You, Sam, Nat, Bucky, and Steve were undercover in a quaint little tavern in Alaska. A quaint little tavern that happened to be a front for Hydra, as it were. But that didn’t mean that everyone there was Hydra, just definitely the bar tender and the security guards that kept eyeing you up. Probably a handful of the patrons, too.

In addition to that, so were the flannel-clad guys at the bar.

“Hey, little lady.” One wandered up to you, bumping your elbows. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m all set with this one, thanks.” You said, taking a long sip from your drink.

“Aww, come on, just one more?” The guy on your other side egged on. “Pretty girl like you deserves to have a little fun.”

The guys around them started getting riled up, trying to convince you to have another drink. Never had you been so glad to hear Steve’s voice.

“Sorry fellas, she’s taken. Come on, sweetheart.” You felt his hand on your shoulder and let him pull you away from the fray, back to his little corner. He had been growing out a bit of a beard for this. God, did it suit him. He rested his hands on your waist, face approaching your own, nose nestled beside your cheek. “You see anything?”

“Bartender has a gun under the counter. Intense code-protected lock on the door in the backroom.” You told him, masking your words with a smile, nuzzling your nose against his.

“I’ll get to work on the door.” Bucky said over the coms. “Whatever you’re doing is working. Those guys have lost all interest.”

“Perfect.” You chuckled. “Thanks for defending my honor.”

Steve smiled and it was breathtaking, the way his eyes sparkled in the warm light. “Anytime.”

You really couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol; there hadn’t even been any. It was a virgin drink. Your arm wound around his neck, pulling him in so you could kiss his cheek. His arms wrapped tight around you and he buried his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks, laughing.

Once again, that line between your cover and your feelings began to blur.

“Alright, I’m in.” Bucky said. “Feel free to join us whenever.”

“Coming.” Steve murmured, a hand moving the hair out of your eyes. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, sending your heart into a frenzy before taking your hand and leading you to the backroom, where Bucky and the others were waiting.

“You were born for undercover work, (Y/N).” Natasha said, giving you a smirk and a friendly nudge.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” You laughed. “It’s kind of fun, though.”

The five of you walked down the tunnel. When you finally reached the main room, it was kind of dark. You lit your fist with blue energy, using it to find a lightswitch. There were several computers that flashed to life, a wall of weapons, and also, a wall of screens. There was a little electrified cell, but it was empty. No captives, as far as you could see.

You started looking around while Natasha backed up files to a hard drive. Bucky watched the entrances. Sam looked over the weapons, taking notes of the ones that were out of the ordinary. Steve stared at the screens, mesmerized by…something.

“Um, (Y/N)?” He asked, motioning you over.

You looked up at the images. They were all of you. Pictures of you in the field, diagrams of your anatomy, hospital records, your birth certificate. There were illustrations of you, and a few fields marked as unfulfilled: blood sample, soulmate information, DNA.

Beneath it was written Planet of Origin: Illustria

“What the actual fuck.” You said, voice flat, staring at the word. You’d never heard it before. Not even with the recent discoveries about space and the wider universe. Thor, your only connection to space, had never mentioned it. Yet, for some reason, Hydra had reason to believe you were connected to it.

“Company.” Bucky announced, readying his gun as a group of Hydra agents stormed down the tunnel.

A section of the wall slid open and a scientist-looking man stepped into the space. Steve threw his shield, bouncing it off of three surfaces before it came back to him. The man made a run for it, but you lit your fists and ran after him. Steve followed after.

Once you were both through, the wall slid shut. On the other side, you could still hear the sounds of the fight. They needed you. But you needed answers. It was an impossible choice, made easier when he started talking.

“Ah, the Girl from Space and the Man Out of Time. How nice to have you both here in one place.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You said, fists clenched, eyes glazed over with raw power, glowing like Wanda’s did.

He laughed. “You didn’t know? Your commerades didn’t tell you? Surely they must have seen the suppressor in your neck when they were running all those tests.”

Your world came crashing down. “The what?”

“Your parents paid us to put it there. Paid SHIELD, at least, but, we’ve been one in the same for a long time. Didn’t know how to handle their little alien girl, especially at her full power, on a planet that wasn’t their own. They should have known you’d outgrow it eventually.” He tsked. “Of course, I could always take it out for you.”

“You touch her, you die.” Steve said, voice as smooth as steel. It sent a chill down your spine. “I’m warning you.”

It made sense. It was like a switch had been flipped when you were in college, your powers coming from seemingly nowhere. They’d been suppressed all your life, but finally, the suppressor stopped working. You hadn’t even known it was there. Maybe that was why you’d been stopped at so many airports.

“Not to worry Captain, I was on my way out of here anyway.” He raised his hands and started walking towards an exit tunnel.

You raised yours, making a cuff of energy around his wrist, holding him in place.

“No, you get to answer to SHIELD.” You told him. “And then you get to answer to me.”

Steve used his shield to knock the guy out with one quick, precise throw. The door behind the two of you slid open, Natasha pushing it open. There were downed Hydra agents all over the floor behind her.

“Having a party without us?”

“Something like that.” You mumbled, heart still racing.

“I got the files, (Y/N).” She said, playful demeanor falling immediately. “We’ll figure it out.”

Steve lugged the scientist over his shoulders, handing him off to the SHIELD agents who had come to help, one of whom happened to be one of the guys who was hitting on you at the bar. Go figure. Bucky and Sam joined the three of you. Sam put a hand on your shoulder and offered a supportive smile.

You still felt numb.

***

You got back to the safehouse and the snow outside doubled, coming down in droves, thick snowflakes and heavy winds. It was safe to say you would not be making it back to the Compound tonight.

You changed out of your bulletproof gear and into a tank top and sweats, running a hand through your hair. You met your eyes in the reflection, noticing how they flickered blue. In the other room, you could hear the video call finally go through with Tony and Bruce, who were back home.

“Oh don’t give me that look, Rogers.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

“What, like you’ve never kept a secret ever in your life, give me a break!”

“About her life, Tony!”

“I’ll get her.” You heard Natasha tell him, and then heard her footsteps approaching the bathroom door. She knocked. “Hey, they’re on. I made you some cocoa.”

You opened the door, letting out a sigh and nodding. “Thanks, Nat.”

She smiled, patting your shoulder and leading you out to the couch. Tony and Bruce were sitting in the living room on the screen. Steve had been pacing, obviously, given his stance and the fact that he was still standing.

You sat down, making eye contact with each of them, lips pressed into a flat line. Your heart raced, chest aching, stomach on fire from the adrenaline of it all. “So?”

Tony sighed. “You’re an alien.”

“Half.” Bruce amended. “On your mother’s side. She’s from a planet called Illustria.”

“Uh-huh, yeah. I got that part. How long have you known?”

Bruce looked at Tony, hoping he’d deliver that part of the news. He did. “I’ve known since you were recruited. Fury did a background check. You were already on the files.”

“What about the suppressor?”

“We didn’t know what it was. We didn’t know what taking it out would do to you.” Bruce admitted. “We thought you knew it was there.”

“I want it out.” You said with certainty. “I want it out as soon as we get home.”

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I want to know who I am. That starts with knowing what I’m actually capable of.” You sighed. “And call Thor. I have questions I need answered. His alien friends might know.”

“Anything else?” Tony asked.

“Who else knew.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Just me and Fury,” he said, but you couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“And Hydra.” You snapped. “What, are you afraid of me? Had to keep a lid on my powers because you’re so fucking obsessed with control?”

Tony scoffed. Clearly, you’d struck a nerve. “That’s not it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how you would take it.”

“Okay well, I think I would have been okay hearing it from a friend, in a place I felt safe. I had to hear about it from Hydra. They had a fucking cell with my name on it.” You said, trembling as you remembered it, tucked away in the corner there. That was the only explanation for it, really. And then something else clicked, too. “That…that day when Steve got tranq’ed. They weren’t trying to hit him, they were trying to hit me. He jumped in the way. They’ve…been trying to take me this entire time.”

“Oh my god, Tony…” Natasha said, voice quiet.

“Get those files to me, Nat. I’ll take a look. See if they have anything on the suppressor so I can take it out when you get back.” Bruce said, eyes soft. “And I’m sorry, for the record.”

“It’s not you I’m mad at.”

“Kid, please don’t—”

You cut Tony off with a click of the remote, hanging up the call. You let out a shaking sigh, setting the remote down. Your fingers were trembling. You took a few breaths, lungs heaving. You wanted to scream. You needed to let it out.

Everyone else on the team knew why they were there. Every other person in your life knew what made them special. Wanda’s power came from the Mind Stone, Steve’s came from the Serum, Tony’s came from his massive fucking ego. They all got the privilege of their origin story.

All of them except for you.

You needed to call your parents, if you even could. They’d told you they were moving to Florida. Now you wondered if they’d moved off the planet.

“You gonna be okay?” Sam asked, eyes trailing you as you paced through the room towards the door.

“Nope.” You walked out to the other den, burying your face in your arms, sobbing for a few minutes until you got it all out, or most of it anyway. Eight months. Eight fucking months he’d known you and didn’t think to tell you.

The chip in your shoulder burned.

You began to seriously wonder if anyone else had known. Bruce had run all those tests, surely he had seen something. He’d told you there were abnormalities, but he’d assumed they were from your powers, not the cause of them.

Steve crossed your mind briefly, but you shot that down pretty quick. He, of all people, would never keep a secret like that from you. You knew him well enough to know that.

Aside from that, the only real suspect you had was Vision. He had been JARVIS once, surely he still had some of that database in his mind. You’d give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

“Hey.” Even before you looked up, you could tell Steve would be leaning in the doorway, that lovelorn look on his face. You were right, obviously.

Tears welled in your eyes. “Steve.”

He crossed the room, collecting you in his arms, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back. You surrendered to him, crying into the fabric of his crewneck, face tucked into the crook of his neck. One of his hands cradled your head, smoothing over your hair comfortingly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He rumbled, voice deep and soothing. “I would have told you.”

“I know you would.” You sniffled, gripping him like a lifeline, your anchor in the storm. You pulled away to meet his eyes. “I feel so stupid for crying about it.”

He shook his head. “It’s not stupid. I would, too.”

“Like it’s fine. Aliens are cool. T-Thor is cool.” You sniffled again, more tears running down your cheeks. “I’m fine with being one, I just…”

“You’re still (Y/N).” He asserted, a gentle thumb wiping your tears away. “You’ve always been able to do these amazing, beautiful things. Now we know why. And maybe there’ll be even more things you can do with that thing out of your neck.”

“Yeah…” You nodded. You took a deep breath. “I’m really glad you’re here, Steve. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.”

He pulled you back into his arms to hide the look on his face. “I’ve got you. Always. We’ll figure it out.”

***

Hours later, you were curled up on the couch, asleep. Despite the fireplace raging with fresh-chopped wood, you were still shivering, pulling the blankets around yourself as tight as you could.

Steve watched you from the dining table, forlorn. Natasha nudged him, motioning towards you. He shook his head. He couldn’t. Right? What, take advantage of you in your vulnerable state?

Bucky seemed to agree with Nat, grinning into his mug of coffee. Of course they agreed. They were soulmates, after all. Just like you and Steve.

The mark on his wrist seemed to thrum when he thought about it.

Relenting, Steve got up off of his seat, walked towards the fireplace and adjusted the logs, adding another small one for good measure. He looked back at the others, who were silently, but aggressively, encouraging him to go over to you. Sighing, he did.

He knelt down in front of you, clearing his throat, which caused you to jolt awake.

“Is everything okay? Are we under attack?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, we’re all good. Are you cold? You’re shivering.”

“Kind of, yeah.” You admitted. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise. I’ve always been kind of cold. Must be an alien thing…”

“Do you…want some company?” He asked, unsure of how to word it. “I…run warm.”

“Do you mind?” You asked, sitting up a little and raising the blankets you were under.

His heart raced. “Here, um…” He wiggled in underneath you, letting you lead as the two of you settled.

“God, you do run warm.” You hummed, all but collapsing against him, a hand flat against his chest while you adjusted.

“I didn’t always.” He said, voice sincere. “Buck and I used to have to share a bed in the winter. It was brutal.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Yeah, he snores.” Steve joked, earning a laugh.

“Oh I know. I can hear him three doors down back home.”

“And I can hear you from the other room!” Bucky called, sending you and Steve into a fit of giggles, like kids at a sleepover. “It’s a small cabin!”

You heard him and Sam devolve into a bickering match about the truth of whether or not Bucky actually snored that loud.

You looked up at Steve, asking “is it okay if I put my arm here?” while carefully draping an arm across him.

“Yeah, of course. Get comfortable.” He nodded, leaning against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

You rested your head on his firm chest, listening to the way his heart was racing. Cute.

“We could, uh, put on some music if you want.” Steve suggested. “I’ve still got that playlist on my phone.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” You asked, voice soft, curious.

“Timeless.”

“I thought it would be.” You smiled, meeting his eyes, which sparkled in the light of the fire. “You’re so timeless, Steve Rogers.”

He grinned. “You think so? You don’t think I’m a fossil like everyone else?” he said, quoting Natasha and Tony and many others who equated him to some dinosaur because of his accident.

“Not even close.” You shook your head and sighed. “This might be the wrong thing to say, but…I’m really glad you’re here. Your life could have looked a lot different, but I’m really glad you ended up in mine.”

It took every ounce of his being to hold in his tears when you said it. If he could have confessed then and there, he would have. He would have kissed you square on the lips, told you he loved you, that he always had, that you weren’t some accident, you were his destiny. Always had been.

Instead, he had to settle for, “I’m getting used to it, but I am, too. I’m really glad I found you that day, (Y/N).”

“Me too.” You smiled, readjusting your cheek against his chest, letting out a long breath. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night.”

His warmth lulled you to sleep after a long, emotional day. Never had you felt so safe and protected. It was easy to feel that way in the arms of a supersoldier, you supposed, thoughts meandering until there weren’t any left. You were asleep in minutes, breaths slow and long and even.

Once he was absolutely sure you were out, Steve pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, grateful beyond words to have you in his arms again, grateful you were safe, grateful you were his.

Even if you didn’t know it yet.

***

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the sliver of a gap in the curtains, right into your eyes. You blinked a few times, trying to figure out why the mattress was moving. And then you remembered. Steve.

The supersoldier was still asleep, breaths long and slow, those thick, gorgeous eyelashes resting against his sharp cheekbones, lips impossibly pink. His muscled arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other settled on the couch.

Your eyes wandered to the band on his wrist. It was out of place slightly, the edge almost crooked enough to read the letters etched onto his skin. Almost.

There was a part of you that was tempted to look. To nudge it aside the tiniest bit, say it was an accident, and finally know who it was that had been holding his heart in their hands for the last seventy or so years.

But you couldn’t do that to him. He trusted you enough to hold you while he slept, while he was the most vulnerable. You respected him too much to do that. So instead, you adjusted slightly, closing your eyes again.

“(Y/N).” Natasha said from the doorway of the kitchen.

“Hmm?” You replied, eyes opening again.

She eyed up the two of you, grinning. “Cute.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got those files sent to Bruce. He doesn’t think it’ll be a problem getting that thing out of you. Won’t even have to put you under.”

“Cool.” You nodded. “Is it…like right between my neck and my shoulder? On the right side?”

“That’s where it is on the diagrams, yeah.”

“Okay. Thought so. I get pain there sometimes.”

“During training?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it was anything serious. Thought it was like a pulled muscle or a pinched nerve or something.”

“You never said anything.” Steve murmured, blinking awake. “You were in pain that whole time?”

“No. It comes and goes. Mostly when I try out new stuff.” You said, still planted on his chest, looking up at him.

He smiled. “Morning.”

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Really well, actually. How did you sleep?”

“Like a fucking rock.” You grinned. “You weren’t kidding about running warm. Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime.”

“Let’s get a move on, team.” Sam said, walking out from the bedrooms down the hall, Bucky not far behind him, looking tired.

You reluctantly left the warmth of your shared cocoon, sitting up and stretching, brushing your fingers through your tangled hair. “Alright, let’s go get this thing out of me.”

Show Yourself

“Alright, so, this might hurt a bit. Are you ready?” Bruce warned. You were laid out on a table on your stomach, a curled pillow beneath your head. It was a bit like a massage, except Bruce had made an incision at the base of your neck where your suppressor was implanted. He’d given you some numbing gel and pain meds, though, so you didn’t feel much.

On the other side of the observation window, Steve was standing with Natasha, his arms crossed, eyes focused. Tony wasn’t allowed even in there, which pissed him off. He’d tried to get on your good side when you’d gotten home and you blew him off completely, which, Steve had to admit, was amusing.

And Tony definitely deserved it.

“I’m good. Go for it.”

Carefully, Bruce used his tools to wiggle it free from your flesh, setting off a chain reaction in your body. The wave of relief you felt was almost enough to put you to sleep, a refreshing, cool sensation rushing from your head to your toes. Power crackled between your fingers, and you could feel your eyes glowing for a moment, despite the fact that you couldn’t see your reflection.

Bruce moved to stitch you up, but your body did the work for him, mending back together on its own before his very eyes. He adjusted his glasses, sure he was seeing things. But no, the wound was healed, just leaving a little dried blood on your skin, which he wiped off with a wet piece of gauze.

“Woahhh.” You murmured, coming out of the trance. You blinked a few times and it felt like waking up from a college nap, the kind you don’t set an alarm for and then come out of in a stupor.

“You feel okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” You nodded. “Are you done? Did you stitch it up?”

“I…didn’t have to.” He murmured, still staring at the spot. He handed you the shirt you’d brought in and you tugged it over your head, staring at your arms, your hands. You didn’t look any different, but it was like every atom in your body was electrified.

It felt right.

Bruce opened the door and Steve and Natasha walked in, watching your every move.

“Wow.” Natasha said, grinning. “You look…”

“The same, but…more you.” Steve met your eyes, offering you his hand.

You took it, letting him help you stand. Even his touch felt different now. Better. You settled, adjusting. It felt different, like even the gravity itself had changed. It would take some getting used to.

“I need to hit the training room.” You said with an excited grin. “You two are welcome to join me.”

“Can I watch? I want to take notes.” Bruce said. “From the observation booth, of course.”

“Oh yeah, by all means.” You nodded, leading the others down the hallway. A few others tagged along, Yelena, Kate, Wanda, who were all curious to see what you were capable of now, and just how much Tony’s lies had been holding you back. Sam and Bucky were already there and smiled when they saw you coming, Steve and the others in tow.

They cleared out some room, letting you have the space you needed. You stretched and then got to work.

First, you made a few forcefields. They still had that shimmer, like sunlight in a swimming pool, but they were twice as thick as they had been before. Steve couldn’t break them with his super-strength anymore.

You had more control over your waypoints and your portals, which, the more you used them, were becoming two different things. The waypoints, your stars, were a quick zip from point A to point B. Your portals, however, were more like a window that you could open and close, and took on more of a circular shape.

You were stronger, too. Nowhere near as strong as Bucky or Steve, but twice as strong as you’d been before, faster.

And then came the other thing. If you focused hard enough, and focused on the floaty, tingly feeling in your chest, your body started to glow around the edges, and at long last, your feet rose from the floor.

“Oh my god…” You murmured, lifting yourself from the tile ground. At first, it was hard to control, but you quickly figured out how to get from point to point, and how to hover in the middle.

Steve stared up at you as you hovered, fists lit with power, hair floating in the breeze you’d created. It was like watching the birth of a star, powerful and beautiful and otherworldly.

For the first time since 1943, he knew in his soul that he had to paint you, exactly like this. He memorized the moment in his mind, every detail from the streak of sunlight on your chest to the misplaced strand of hair on your forehead, the exact hue of your glowing irises.

“A picture might last longer.” Natasha teased under her breath, watching as you touched down.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Steve replied, already picking out a color palette in his head.

“Holy shit…” You breathed, the glow dissipating as you returned to normal. “What a rush.”

“Welcome to the fly club, kid.” Sam said, patting you on the back.

“Thanks.” You grinned. “You’ll have to give me some pointers sometime.”

“Oh, anytime.” Sam walked over to Steve with you. “You see her up there? She’s like Superman.”

“I saw.” Steve agreed, arms crossed. “I think this calls for celebration, huh?”

“What did you have in mind, Cap?” You asked.

“Baja Blast?” He suggested, earning a laugh and a friendly shove.

“So you did like it?”

“It’s growin’ on me.” Steve admitted, that sly smile spreading. “Come on, my treat.”

“Oh I’m in.” You agreed. “Let me just take these monitors off.”

You turned in Bruce’s software, all of the vital-measuring instruments, cuffs and little sensors hooked to your arms and legs and chest.

“So, give it to me straight, doc. Am I stable?”

“Yeah, everything looks great. Vitals are great, heartrate is fine, if not a little elevated, but I’d assume that’s just from the adrenaline.” Bruce noted, looking at the numbers and charts on the screen in front of him. “If you feel weird, let me know and I can check things over, do some scans, but otherwise, it seems…you’re doing better than you were before, actually.”

“Alright, good to know.” You said, trying not to let his words hurt you.

It was good news, it really was, but you could have felt this way for eight months, not two hours. You were thinking faster, processing things at better speeds. Hell, it even felt like you were breathing easier. Whatever that thing was that had been inside you, it had been sapping your health for your entire life. And now, you finally knew what it was like to be at a hundred percent instead of eighty.

Fuck Tony.

***

Steve drove the two of you through the nearest Taco Bell drive-thru to get snacks for yourselves and the rest of the team.

You ordered your regular, your Baja Blast, and everything the others had requested, running it on one of the team cards Tony had given you all. On the drive back, Steve had a question you didn’t really expect.

“Where do people shop for art supplies these days?”

“Jo Ann’s or Michael’s. They have a little bit of everything. Fabric, yarn, paint, beads, basically everything you could need. Why, you got a DIY project planned?”

“Something like that, yeah.” He grinned. “I don’t do much shopping, so I didn’t know where to start.”

“We should go sometime. I was running low on yarn.” You said, taking a sip of your Baja Blast.

“Make anything cool lately?”

“I’m working on a sunflower cardigan for Wanda.”

“Oh she’ll love that.”

“Yeah, she’s the one who sent me the pattern.” You chuckled. “It’s gonna look really cute on her.”

The two of you got back a few minutes later, a drove of hungry superheroes descending upon the paper bags you were carrying almost instantly. It was a welcome sight, a full table of laughing people. Your family. You felt a little different now, but nothing had changed. Not really. They still liked you, still smiled at you, joked with you, laughed with you.

So then why had Tony felt the need to hide it for so long?

***

Days later, Steve walked down the paint aisle of the craft store, picking out some brushes, some canvas, paints. He found the perfect one for your eyes, another hue for your forcefields. The amount of time he spent looking at you made it easy.

He smiled to himself. The little guy from Brooklyn would be proud of him, getting back into art beyond the sketches he did from time to time. It reminded him, though, that he needed to swing back to that antique shop and finally pick up the painting that had been waiting for him for so long.

Surely, he could keep it hidden until your big day.

Happiest Place on Earth

Being an Avenger often brought along unexpected adventures and opportunities. Today, that adventure was a theme park. Apparently, Disneyland was putting in a whole section in homage to the Avengers and Tony wanted you all to be there.

And though the two of you weren’t on the best terms at the moment, who were you to fight a free vacation?

You and Wanda helped pick out each others’ outfits for your day off following the grand opening. But today, you were wandering the park in uniform, side by side with Captain America himself, as you walked side by side down the street in the parade.

They’d tried to teach you all to do a little dance as you walked. The only one even attempting it was Scott, who was absolutely thrilled to be there. Supposedly, his daughter Cassie would be there to see him, too. You hadn’t met her yet, but Scott loved her to the moon and back. With him as a dad, she’d have to turn out pretty cool.

“Waypoint,” Steve said, motioning you over to see a little girl dressed not as a princess, but as you, your star shining proudly on her chest.

“Hey there, superstar.” You smiled, giving her a high-five. “You look great!”

“I want to be a hero just like you someday!” She said, her voice impossibly small. Impossibly innocent. It was a cute moment, but you couldn’t help but hope she’d never have to be. That someday, you and the rest of the team would get the world to a place where superheroes weren’t needed, where there was just peace. Where people with powers could simply be like everyone else.

“You already are, hon.” You told her, posing for a picture as her mom held up her phone.

You continued along the parade route and saw a couple. The guy was wearing a Captain America hoodie, the girl was wearing a Waypoint shirt. You wondered if Steve noticed, but didn’t have to ask when you saw his eyes lingering there, his mask all but hiding the faint blush on his cheeks.

A few teenage girls stopped you and you signed their autograph books, throwing something together. Despite your time on the team, there had never really been a time you’d been stopped for them. It was an odd feeling, being famous for something like this.

Steve signed with confidence, though. Sometimes you forgot that before he actually got to go out in the field and make a difference, he’d done a stint as a celebrity, touring the country to sell war bonds.

Someday, you’d bribe him enough to show you the videos, if he hadn’t already burnt all of them first.

“Are you excited for your birthday?” One asked. “I heard your twenty-fifth is coming up.”

“Oh! Yeah! I mean, I guess I’m more anxious than anything. It’s the big one.”

“You’re going to have every twenty-four year old in the country on the edge of their seat waiting to find out if they’re the one.” Another joked.

You laughed along. “Yeah, I guess it’s coming whether I want it to or not.”

You were near the end of the route, so it wasn’t long after that you were off the hook to walk around a bit, get something to eat.

Steve turned to you, trying to sound casual when he asked, “You don’t want your birthday to come?”

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged. “I’m not entirely set on the idea of pledging myself to some stranger for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not always a stranger.” Steve said. “Maybe you already know them.”

“That’s true. That would be…I mean, it would be better, sure, but…I’m pretty sure the only person I want it to be already has someone else.” You couldn’t meet his eyes when you said it, afraid of the answer, one way or the other, whether he finally said it outright, or if those pretty blue eyes said it for him.

You couldn’t handle the heartbreak.

“Wait—”

“(Y/N), we have time to hop on Pirates of the Caribbean.” Wanda said, swooping in to save you. She was really good at that. She took your hand and the two of you ran off in the direction of the ride.

Natasha walked up behind Steve, hand in hand with Bucky, who was nibbling on a churro. Obviously, they had heard the exchange.

“Fuck.” Steve muttered, shaking his head. “Well, great.”

“What’s going on, soldier?” Natasha asked.

“She’s gonna be so pissed when she finds out it’s me.” Steve said, voice small, as he watched you walk away. He waited for you to glance back at him. You didn’t.

“What are you talking about? Steve, she’s liked you for months. She listened to Songs for Sad Bitches when she thought she couldn’t have you.” Natasha reasoned. “Feelings like that don’t just go away.”

Bucky chimed, “Are we forgetting the night at the cabin?”

“That was three months ago.” Steve said, staring at his shoes. “I…I’ve been keeping it from her this entire time, hiding it from her, letting her feel like shit and stress herself out over it. I shouldn’t have gotten so close in the first place, but…I just can’t keep myself away from her. She looks at me with those eyes and I just…crumble.”

“I hear ya, pal.” Bucky said, patting his arm. “But you remember the look in her eyes at the bar that night? You remember the things she said to you? That (Y/N) is still a month away. She still has feelings for you. She still loves you, and she’s…she’s even excited to see the little guy.”

“She loved the little guy.” Steve agreed, smiling softly, remembering the look on your face when he’d found you, laying on his porch, the tenderness with which you’d whispered his name. In a world that constantly looked down on him, figuratively and literally, you were the first person aside from Bucky that made him feel loved, like he had something waiting for him.

Steve let out a long breath, nodding. Bucky was right. Back in the forties, he’d been the level-headed voice of reason, getting Steve out of the trouble his big mouth got him into. Even in the twenty-first century, he was still doing his damage control. In a way, he had missed it.

“Alright, now I know I missed some chapters.” Sam was on Steve’s other side, holding an ice cream sandwich, eyes wide. “When exactly were you going to tell me your soulmate is on the team?”

Steve chuckled. “Surprise?”

“Welcome to the inner circle, Sam. We’ve been waiting for you.” Natasha joked, wearing a grin.

“I mean, it explains a hell of a lot. Here I was thinking she was like…the grandkid of one of your old war buddies or something.”

“That’s what I thought!” Natasha agreed. She and Bucky finally filled Sam in on everything he’d missed over the past several months.

Steve’s eyes wandered back to that couple, dressed as him and you. They were holding hands, walking down the pathway, laughing, talking. They stopped for a selfie together in front of the Avengers Campus sign, which inevitably devolved into a kiss.

And in his head, he replaced them with him and you, carefree and in love in the happiest place on earth.

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Maybe, if you lied very still, you could convince the universe no time was passing at all. You were staring at the ceiling, flat on your back, the weight of the world resting flat against your entire body. No, against your soul, weighing you down.

Tomorrow was your birthday and you were not ready. Not in the slightest.

You let out a loud groan, forcing yourself to get up, to get dressed. You chucked your pajamas in your hamper, throwing on some joggers and a t-shirt, the old Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. It was a simple one, black with stars scattered across the fabric, the yellow logo emblazoned across the front.

There was a knock on your door.

“It’s open.” You called, not turning around to see who it was. You put on your star necklace, the one Steve had given you almost an entire year before. You tucked it under the fabric of the shirt.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” Steve asked, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes searching.

“Not well.” You sighed, turning to look at him.

“I didn’t either when mine was coming. I swear I didn’t get any sleep for a week.” He said, eyes soft. “I, um, got breakfast. It’s in the kitchen. Those breakfast sandwiches you like.”

Your lips curled into a tired smile. “Thanks. That’s really sweet.”

“Of course. Whatever you want today, just say the word.”

You crossed the room, walking right up to him and straight into his arms. He held you to him, read resting against yours. For a moment, he questioned if it had already happened, if he’d gotten the days mixed up.

If you already knew.

“I just need you to hold me.” You whispered, holding in tears. You should have been excited. It should have felt like Christmas Eve. You should have been absolutely buzzing with excitement for the day to come.

But you weren’t ready to let him go, for everything about your relationship to change. You needed more time.

“I can do that.” He said softly, thumbs etching circles into your shoulders. “As long as you need me to. I’ve got you. Always.”

“Okay.” You whispered, voice breaking. The tears finally slipping down your cheeks. It was all you could say to keep yourself from saying ‘I love you.’

You ate breakfast with the others. Natasha could tell you had been crying, so after, she took you, Wanda, Kate, and Yelena out of the house. It was a welcome distraction. The mall was the perfect spot. It always was.

“What about this one?” Wanda held another dress against you, imagining you in it for your birthday party the following night. Steve had taken it upon himself to be the entire planning committee, which was why he was back at the Compound with the boys, getting things in order. The only thing he wanted to have to worry about tomorrow was the party itself.

“Does it come in blue?” You asked, eyeing up the rack she’d pulled it off of.

“It does.” She smiled, putting the red one back in exchange for blue. It was sparkling, form-fitting, a little less formal than the one you’d worn to your Avengers induction, but it had the same vibe, just shorter and with a deeper neckline.

“Perfect.” You said, turning towards the dressing room. You handed Wanda your purse and slipped into it. It fit perfectly in all the right places. You did a little turn in the mirror, satisfied, and then walked out into the store again, where Natasha was nodding in approval.

“Alright, dress acquired, where to next?” Kate asked, checking the list she was keeping on her phone.

“I heard there is a Lego store here.” Yelena said absentmindedly, glancing out the door. “We should go.”

“Is that where you got Steve’s Millennium Falcon?” Natasha asked.

“Steve has a Millennium Falcon???” Yelena asked, eyes wide. “I want one.”

“I got it online. It was on sale.”

“I didn’t know Steve liked Star Wars.” Kate noted as you walked back into the dressing room to change back into your Star Wars shirt, ironically enough.

“Loves it. He’s a big nerd. Bucky, too. Buck’s more of a fantasy nerd, though. He’s super into Lord of the Rings.” You could hear the grin in Natasha’s voice when she said it.

“Steve said it was the first thing he watched out of the ice. Star Wars, that is. I don’t know if he’s seen Lord of the Rings yet.” You added. “And he’s talked about going to the Stark Expo back in the day. Vintage nerd.”

“Nice.”

Once you’d paid for the dress, you moved on to the Lego Store, where Yelena just about ran to the Millennium Falcon set to see it for herself.

“Lego typewriter.” Natasha noted, pointed at it. “Speaking of vintage nerd.”

“Oh I’m sure he’d get a kick out of that.” You laughed. Depending on how things settled after your soulmate bomb dropped, maybe you’d come back and get it for him. At the very least, you were pretty sure you’d still be friends after it all. And friends built Lego sets together.

“Hey, wait, there are Legos of us?” Kate asked, eyeing up the display where Steve had, you assumed, gotten your matching keychains. “This is news to me.”

“Let me see.” Yelena walked over and gasped, eyes falling on her Lego self.

Wanda smiled softly, head tilting as she looked at you. She rested her hand on your shoulder.

“It will be fine. To quote someone I care about very deeply: whoever they are, they are lucky to have you. Now, let’s forget about it for a bit.”

“Alright.” You agreed, letting her lead you over to the Build-a-Figure station, where you started mixing and matching the pieces. It was hard, but you let your worries melt away, at least for a little while.

***

Meanwhile, Steve was walking around the Compound with a clipboard, making sure everything was ready for the next day. Scott and the ants were helping put up the decorations. He’d sent Sam and Bucky to pick up the cake, and Tony had taken it upon himself to take care of the catering. A peace offering of sorts.

Steve was putting together the playlist for the party himself, hand-picking songs you liked, recommendations from Nat and Wanda, songs from Taylor Swift’s discography, and then, finally, a special song he’d been saving.

Steve liked to listen to his records in the privacy of his room, away from the ears of members of the team who would tease him for it. They were forties jazz mostly, made the place feel a little more like home, especially when you weren’t around. But there was a song that he would soon share with you, as soon as tomorrow came. He hesitated to add it, but eventually, he pressed his thumb to the song, adding it to the playlist.

He closed his eyes, remembering that moment. The last song of the night before Val’s closed. It was one of the last times he had gone there.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when…” The singer’s voice had floated across the room, words striking him to his core. He got chills, opening his eyes again. God, he couldn’t wait for you to know. Sure, he was a supersoldier, but he was pretty sure the weight of his secret was finally crushing him.

***

You retreated to your room when you and the girls got home. It was kind of late. You’d decided to catch a movie while you were out. You didn’t mind. You were beyond ready to go to sleep and just…get it over with.

Off with the Band-Aid.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Steve asked, finding Natasha and Kate in the dining room.

“She went to her room for the night.” Kate replied innocently.

“Alright.” He nodded. “How was she doing?”

“Not great.” Yelena said, already into the box of the Lego set she’d settled on. “I mean, she’s like fine. Just…kinda sad.”

“Quiet.” Wanda agreed. Vision had his arm around her.

“Okay, well…” Steve put his hands on his hips, thinking. What was the harm in telling them now? Warning the rest of them what they’d be waking up to tomorrow. “Vision, can you round up the others?”

“Of course.” Vision nodded. “To be clear, I am to leave out (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everyone but (Y/N).” Steve confirmed, leading the others upstairs to one of the lounges. He sat on the couch, mouth resting against his hands, elbows on his knees. Tony sauntered in, followed by Bruce. The rest of the team filed in one by one, finding seats, staring at Steve, waiting for answers.

“So, um, thanks for coming everyone.” Steve said, meeting their eyes.

“Uh, Cap, we’re missing (Y/N).” Clint said, looking around.

“That’s the idea.” Natasha replied.

“Is this a party planning meeting? Do the decorations look okay? I really thought the ants did a good job.” Scott said.

“They did a great job.” Steve reassured him, taking a moment to collect his words. “So, as you all know, tomorrow is (Y/N)’s twenty-fifth birthday. And…I need to finally come clean. I’m her soulmate.”

“Okay, now that I did not know.” Tony said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Your long lost love is one of our housemates?”

“Tony.” Nat shot him a look.

“No, I’m serious. I’m just…I’m relieved is all.” Tony admitted with a sigh. “I…the reason I didn’t tell her is because I didn’t know if Illustrians…I didn’t know if she’d have one. I figured…” He shook his head, staring at the floor. “I didn’t want to bring her down when it was so close.”

Steve took off the cuff on his wrist, finally finally showing him the mark that had been there since his twenty-fifth birthday in 1943. Your name, written in your neat, careful handwriting, first, middle, and last.

“Why not tell her, then?” Kate asked. “Why haven’t you told her?”

“That’s a little more complicated.” Steve thought. “When I turned twenty-five…she was there. In a few hours, when she goes to sleep, she’s headed to the forties to see…well, me, before the serum. I don’t know how or why, but…when she got there, she didn’t know. I didn’t want to risk changing anything. Butterfly effect and all that.”

“Time travel?” Bruce asked, eyes bugging out of his head. “You are just casually telling us that time travel exists.”

“I guess so.”

“Woah. Bruce. We’ve got some tests to run.” Tony said.

“Oh I am already taking notes in my head.”

The meeting ended shortly after that. The rest of the team gave him supportive words and smiles, but Tony’s were the most poignant.

“I don’t know what you’re still doing here, Rogers. Go see her off.”

“Right. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good luck, Steve.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

***

You closed the door after Steve left, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall, steady and even. You let another tear roll down your cheek. All of the crying was exhausting. You just wanted to be done with it.

You sat on the bed, taking off your bra and chucking it across the room, laying back to relax and, hopefully, get some sleep.

The exhaustion must have been helping, because as soon as you closed your eyes, you felt the drifting start. It was strong and immediate, pulling you down through the mattress. You felt like you were floating and falling at the same time, limbs tingling. Your eyes shot open when you realized what was happening, but it was already too late.

And then everything went white.

Right Where You Left Me

In 1943, you walked hand in hand with your soulmate down the sidewalk, through Steve’s favorite park. It happened to be a shortcut between his favorite diner and the local theater. He liked to sit there sometimes, sketch couples walking by. Never had he imagined he’d be one of the couples someday.

For the past week, he’d about worried himself sick. He’d barely slept, he’d had no appetite, he’d had the worst art block of his life. Every time he fell asleep, he had dreams of finding his soulmate, only for them to be some pretty but shallow girl who didn’t want anything to do with him. He had nightmares of a grayed out mark like Bucky’s, or worse, no mark at all. Which is why when he’d run out that morning to get the mail, he hadn’t even checked yet.

Part of him didn’t want to.

And then he’d found you out there, laying under the mailbox.

And now, he was holding your hand.

You caught his eyes, grinning. He smiled back, heart racing. Gosh, maybe he needed to sit down.

“Hey, could we sit for a minute?” He asked, motioning to the bench beside the path and trying his best not to sound out of breath.

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed, following him and sitting down beside him, hand still clasped tight in yours. “Do you have an inhaler?”

“What’s an inhaler?”

“Shit, right, they probably haven’t been invented yet…” You murmured, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“You…know about the asthma.” He realized.

You nodded. “I know about all of it, Steve.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And you’re still looking at me with those eyes?”

“What eyes?” You tilted your head, innocent. “There’s no one else I’d rather be looking at, Steve. Just you.”

“Okay, now I know you’re not real.”

“Am I gonna have to spend all day convincing you I am?”

“You just might.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a reddish mark there. “Oops. Sorry, let me—”

Steve grabbed your hand, stopping you from wiping it away. “Leave it. Bucky comes home covered in ‘em all the time. I’ve never gotten one before.”

“I am going to cover you in lipstick marks by the end of today.”

He grinned, finally standing up to keep moving. “Is that a promise?”

***

It was nearing the end of the night. Steve could feel his time with you was nearly spent. So he led you by the hand to the stairs at the back of the bar, the ones that led up to the roof. He’d found himself up there alone on quite a few nights, when the double dates Bucky set up inevitably crumbled.

It was a beautiful night, clear. The stars were out in force, dotting the sky in perfect constellations. In the distance, fireworks boomed. It was one thing he’d always loved about his birthday.

“Wow, this is great.” You murmured, looking out at the city. It was like you were living in a photograph, the old buildings looming in the skyline, vintage cars driving down the street.

“My favorite spot.” He explained, walking over to the railing.

“I can see why.” You let out a sigh, gripping his hand tighter, fingers laced with his. You turned towards him, looking at the smattering of kiss marks on his cheeks. You’d kept true to your word.

Steve twirled you around, pulling you closer, a soft, romantic smile on his face. “God, you are so beautiful.”

“Let me show you something.” You told him, drawing his eyes to your hand where you made a tiny, gentle forcefield, its blue light shining across his features.

“What…is that?” He asked, staring at the orb. “Is that how you got here? Where were you keeping it?”

You curled your fingers, letting the bubble fizzle away. “It’s not a thing. It’s part of me. Something I’ve been able to do since college. There are a lot of people like me where I’m from, people with gifts. Steve…after I leave, your life is about to get a lot weirder than time travel and forcefields. I can’t tell you how or why, but…”

“I appreciate the heads-up.” He assured you, smiling. “And I love you, too. I didn’t say it down there, and I know I just met you this morning, but…I…I love you so much, doll. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

“You, Steve Rogers, are going to do amazing things.” You whispered, taking his hand again.

“Says the girl with superpowers.”

“I’m serious.” You told him. “I grew up hearing stories about you. I wanted to be just like you. Brave beyond words, fiercely loyal. I guess it only makes sense that we share a soul.”

Steve grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you deeply, lips dancing against your own, heart racing, knees wobbling like Jell-O. He rested his nose against yours, breathing shallow.

“Careful, there. Don’t let me take your breath away.”

He shook his head, kissing you one last time before murmuring, “Oh doll, I could do this all day.” He glanced back towards the door, music from downstairs faint. He took your hand. “Let’s go back downstairs. I think they’re playing the last song.”

You smirked, following him. “I thought you had two left feet.”

He shrugged. “I’m a quick learner.”

***

After you’d disappeared, Steve felt hollow, walking slowly back into the house. Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table, absently reading the paper. He met Steve’s eyes when he heard his trudging footsteps.

“She left you something.” Bucky chucked the bundle of fabric at him and Steve caught it, holding it out in front of him.

Your Star Wars shirt. Shit. He hoped you didn’t need it for anything. “Uh oh.”

“Might fit you.” Bucky chuckled. “Obviously you can’t wear it out, but…”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed, eyes sparkling with tears. He held it to his face, inhaling the scent of your perfume like it was oxygen. “God, I miss her.”

“I know, pal. It’ll be alright. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it will be.” Bucky’s eyes fell to the grayed out mark on his own wrist, so faint it was barely legible. “You just gotta take it one day at the time.”

Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When

Your veins were on fire. The blinding white shimmered, giving way to…your ceiling. You were laying on your bed again, sunlight streaming through the window.

You blinked a few times, feeling flowing back into your limbs slowly. Your heart raced. You sat up, staring at your hands. Soon enough, your eyes found your wrist. The letters were still there, spelling out the name of your soulmate.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“Oh my god.” You looked up and met your reflection’s eyes, your hair still set in elegant 40s waves. Your pajamas were gone, replaced with the blue dress. Your lips were a deep shade of red, the same shade you’d left all over Steve’s face last night. A different Steve in a different time.

You let out a breath, standing up and walking towards the door, your new-vintage forties heels clicking with every step. You marched straight out to the kitchen, where Steve was sitting at the table, fiddling with his cuff. He was sitting across the table from Bucky and Natasha, whose eyes tried to warn Steve that you were approaching behind him.

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Um, how’d you sleep?” He asked, eyes widening when he saw the way you were dressed. His first love, in the flesh, just the way he remembered her.

“I didn’t.” You replied, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the room, snatching up the folding footstool leaned on the end counter as you passed.

“Good luck, pal.” Bucky laughed.

You just about kicked open the door of the conference room, skirt swishing as you did. You closed the door behind you, locking it with a click.

“(Y/N), listen, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but—”

You unfolded the stool, getting up on top of it and pushing him against the wall. You crushed your lips against his, hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. He moaned into your mouth, frozen for a moment until the rest of him got the hint. His eyes fluttered shut, strong arms wrapped around your waist, head tilting as he deepened the kiss.

Your grip on his shirt weakened, arms looping behind his neck, holding him close as his lips left yours. He rested his forehead against yours, breaths ragged. He laughed, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to hide the tint of his cheeks.

“Not quite where I thought this conversation was gonna go.” He murmured against you, pressing kisses up your neck.

You reached for his left hand, fingers lingering against the strip of leather that was still hiding your name.

“You can take it off.” He told you, eyes sparkling. “It’s about time.”

Carefully, you undid the metal bit holding it in place and peeled it back, revealing your name etched there onto his skin, your handwriting unmistakable. You choked on a sob, tears slipping down your face.

“The whole time?” You asked, grabbing onto his hand with both of yours. “You knew the whole time?”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, eyes falling to the hand you were holding. “I…You didn’t know when I met you. I didn’t want to risk…changing anything.” I didn’t want to risk losing you.

“I can’t believe…Here I thought I was your rebound.” You laughed, sniffling through your tears of relief. “I thought you were falling in love with me and I would be the asshole for getting a soulmate and breaking your heart. And it was me the whole time.”

“That’s why you were worried we wouldn’t be friends?” He asked softly.

You nodded, more tears falling when you remembered the way you’d felt day before.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He shook his head, wiping your tears away. “Honestly…I’m really glad we got to be friends first. Most soulmates don’t get that. It made me appreciate every moment with you even more. It was weird and hard, but…loving you was easy. Always has been. It was not telling you that was crushing me.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner…” You said, shaking your head. “All of those little moments…the reading chair, the Hunger Games marathon, the cabin…” Your heart ached remembering the night in the cabin.

You remembered him sleeping against the wall in the infirmary after you’d been knocked unconscious, unwilling and unable to leave you alone when you were hurt. You remembered the bewildered look in his eyes when he thought you were dressed up for a date instead of Wanda’s birthday outing. The argument about whether or not you should go on the Red Room mission, when he was more worried about your safety than anything else, broken over the idea of something happening to you when he wasn’t there to help. The Lego set you’d spent hours building together, his hands so careful, fingers brushing against yours every so often. The mission in the Amazon, when the only thing he could think about while pseudo-drunk was you.

It was always you. It had always been you.

“Steve…”

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked quietly, watching you, searching your eyes for some flicker of disappointment. “It’s okay if you need time. I’d understand. It’s…well, it’s a lot to process.”

“I just…” You sighed, squeezing his hand. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Believe it.” He said. He raised your hand, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. “I love you, (Y/N) (L/N). I always have.”

“I love you too.” You confessed, earning that handsome smile he was so famous for. You couldn’t help but admire him, your supersoldier, the man that time had saved specifically for you. “I don’t need time. I just need you.”

You looked down at your new dress, realizing for the first time what it meant that you were still wearing it. You’d left your other clothes behind.

“Right. Before I forget.” Steve said, presenting a tattered, faded wad of fabric that had once been a shirt. “You left this at my place.”

You unfurled the fabric to find your missing Star Wars shirt, or what was left of it. You stared at it, dumbfounded. “You’ve had this the whole time?!”

“Took it everywhere with me.” He admitted. “Storming Hydra bases in Europe, Battle of New York, Sokovia, everywhere. I used to wear it, back when I was…you know, but it didn’t fit after my growth spurt. Sorry I couldn’t get it to you in better shape.”

“This is why you like Star Wars.” You realized, staring at it and looking back up at him.

“Yes.”

“Oh my god.” You laughed, shaking your head. You handed it back to him. “I think you need this more than I do, Steve. You can hold onto it for me if you want.”

He smiled, eyes soft. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course. I know it’s safe in your hands.”

Your shirt wasn’t the only thing that was safe in his hands. You were pretty sure, finally, that your heart was, too.

You stepped down from your footstool. Steve watched with an amused smile, chuckling.

“We had less of a height difference last night.” You reminded him, folding up the stool.

“I remember.” He reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He brought it to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles with care. “God, I missed this. I missed you so much, doll. Which is silly because you’ve been here, but…”

“I get it.” You reassured him, dropping his hands and wrapping your arms around him instead.

He hugged you to his chest, resting his head against yours and letting out a long breath. You could tell he’d been holding it in for a long, long time.

***

Before you changed out of your forties look, Wanda insisted on a little photoshoot, which you were grateful for. Looking back, it would be fun to have pictures, even just as more proof that it had actually happened. Steve obviously sat in on some of the photos.

You asked some questions, of course, such as “who all knew?” The answer was everyone, but not until the night before when he’d finally come clean to the team. Before that, it had just been Bucky and Nat, and more recently, Sam.

Wanda claimed she had felt something, but never pried. Anyone could see it, though. Anyone with eyeballs. The way he looked at you had always been with love.

You changed into your dress for the party, necklace on display between your collarbones. You touched up your makeup a little bit, but left it. Bucky’s vintage lady friend had done a good job.

Tony showed up about an hour before the party was supposed to start, instructing the caterers. He stopped in his tracks, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. “Rogers tell you my side of the story?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And I appreciate you looking out for me. Kind of. In your own way.”

“And I am sorry, for the record. Maybe there would have been a way to bring it up without…you know.” Tony shrugged. “Happy birthday, kid. I’m glad it all worked out for you and the old-timer.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got in touch with your parents. You were right. They’re off-planet. But I have their contact info if you want to…”

“Yeah, I’d really like that. Thank you, Tony.”

“Of course. I’ll get that all squared away.”

Steve walked up to you as Tony walked away, eyes landing on the necklace there. You realized, as he stared at it, that you’d been wearing it the night before. You hadn’t taken it off before bed.

“Is that what you meant when you said you had help picking it out?” You realized, putting the pieces together. “I thought you meant Natasha or something.”

“No, I uh…” He grinned, nodding. “I got a good look at it that night. You never said who gave it to you, but I figured it may as well be me.”

Steve was wearing a blue button-up, his nice black slacks that did everything for his legs. He’d shaved, combed his hair all neat. His hand settled on the small of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You stood on your toes, hooking an arm around his neck and tugging him down for a kiss, lips melting against his. You felt his warm hand settle on your jaw, tilting your head just so. He smelled good, like his woodsy mahogany cologne. His breath was fresh, spearmint. And his lips were soft, confident but gentle.

His nose nuzzled yours, breath warm as it fanned across your cheeks. He met your eyes for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling you against him again. Now that he could touch you freely, he just couldn’t get enough.

“Bout time.” Bucky chuckled, walking into the room, Natasha’s hand in his. She looked great, wearing a nice red dress. “How are you two doing?”

“Great, Buck.” Steve replied, still not letting you go as he swayed. “I’m doin’ great. How are you, birthday girl?”

“It’s the best one I’ve had so far.” You said, echoing his words when you’d asked him the same question. You kissed him again, lips finding his easily.

He smiled, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Same here.” You told him. “I’ve had a crush on you since middle school. Imagine how I feel.”

“Middle school???” He asked, laughing.

“Yeah, why do you think I was crying at Air and Space Museum?”

“I was still in the ice!”

“Middle school girl crushes know no bounds, Captain Rogers.” Kate said, her and Yelena walking into the room next, more or less matching in their black dresses and purple and red accents. “I had plenty of crushes on old dead guys when I was in middle school. No offense.”

He laughed. “None taken.”

The party guests arrived in waves. The remainder of the team came, along with the extended family: Maria Hill, Jane Foster and her intern Darcy. A handful of your college friends came, buzzing about the prospect of being at the Avengers Compound, as well as the fact that you were an Avenger now, since most of them hadn’t seen you since that change had occurred.

You greeted them all as they came in, smiling and laughing and joking around like you did during the good old days. You introduced them to your new friends, your team. The playlist Steve had agonized over set the perfect tone. Some songs were upbeat and danceable, some were chill and slow, giving the couples in the room the chance to pair off and dance together.

During one of such songs, Steve offered his hand.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Like old times…” You murmured, hand sliding into his as he led you out onto the makeshift dancefloor.

Steve faced you, strong hand settling on your waist, the other still wrapped around yours. There was only one song it could be, of course. His favorite of the songs you had shown him thus far. He spun you around, face hovering just behind your ear, where he pressed a tender kiss before spinning you back around to face him.

“Even if we’d met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war…”

“You still would have been mine, we would have been timeless…” You sang softly, meeting his eyes, the smile on your face matching his own. It was like Taylor had plucked the lyrics from your very heart.

“I think we kind of are.” He said, head nuzzled to yours, still swaying along to the song.

“Yeah, I think so too.” You replied.

When the song was over, Steve leaned in and asked, “Can I give you your presents now?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded.

He led you out of the room and down the hall to one of the conference rooms, where he’d stashed them earlier. There were four things waiting there. A medium box, a tiny box, and two easels covered with sheets.

He turned a chair around and motioned for you to sit, so you did. He handed you the bigger box first, and the infamous clinking sound gave it away before you could even get the wrapping paper off.

“Oh I think I know what this is.”

“I thought you might say that.” He chuckled. “I didn’t know if you had this one or not. I kept the receipt just in case…”

You tore the paper off to reveal a Lego set. It was Van Gogh’s Starry Night. “I don’t have this one yet. And I cannot wait to build it with you.”

“That makes two of us, doll.” He kissed your cheek, handing you the next present, the smaller one.

You tore the paper off to reveal a small velvet box. You gently lifted the lid and inside, there was a set of star earrings and a simple silver band. An eternity band, if you weren’t mistaken. Not an engagement ring, but it was a common gift for soulmates to give once they found each other, especially after they’d spent some time together.

“Oh, Steve…” You murmured, tears in your eyes. “They’re beautiful.”

“Can I?” He asked, kneeling down beside you and reaching for the ring.

“Yeah, of course.” You held out your hand and let him slide the band onto your finger. How he’d gotten your size, you didn’t know, but it fit perfectly.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this since 1943.” He confessed, hands lingering around your own.

“It’s still so crazy to me.” You sighed, shaking your head. You met his eyes. “You were in love with me before I even existed, before my parents were even born.”

“I know.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek, another to the corner of your lips. “When I woke up after the ice, I…I was lonely for a while. I spent a lot of days alone, learning, trying to figure out the new world I’d found myself in. I was kind of bitter. I didn’t know why it had happened to me…until I found you in the mall that day. And then I knew it wasn’t some accident. What happened to me was fate. You’re my destiny. Everything that happened led me straight to you and it was all worth it.”

“You can’t keep doing this to me.” You sighed, fingers intertwining with his.

“Doing what?”

You leaned your forehead against his, whispering, “Making me fall more in love with you.”

“No promises.” He laughed, kissing your lips and pulling you to your feet. “On my twenty-fifth, you said you didn’t know I was an artist and I promised I’d show you sometime.”

He pulled the sheet off of the first painting. It was you, glowing a brilliant blue, streaks of energy emanating from you like you were a star. Your eyes glowed, hair blew in the breeze. Behind you was a bright waypoint and zipping through the air was his shield, all of it captured in breathtaking oil painting. You wondered how long it had taken.

“This is so beautiful, Steve.” You rested your head against him, arm wrapped around his waist. “You made me look like a freaking goddess.”

“Well now you know how I see you.” He reached for the sheet covering the second painting, a little more careful with this one due to the age of it alone. “You might recognize this one.”

It was the painting from the antique shop, the soulmates dancing in Val’s. Now, with your new knowledge, you recognized them immediately. It was you and Steve. Always had been. Tears slipped down your cheeks and your hand covered your mouth, muffling your sobs. There was a time when you were afraid no one would ever love you as much as the blond-haired man loved the girl he was dancing with and it had been you all along.

But that little blond guy had painted it for you, not knowing whether or not you would ever get to see it.

You turned to Steve, standing on your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders, head resting against his strong frame as you cried.

“I never stopped looking. Never.” Steve said, voice getting emotional. “Every base I went to, I met every nurse. At every coffee shop, I studied every college student in case you were there doing homework. Every time I went to the theater, I was scanning faces for yours. It became habit, looking for you. I…”

“You found me.” You said, pulling away to see his face. You brushed his tears away with a gentle thumb. “You found me, Steve.”

He surged forward, kissing you deeply, with a century of passion behind his lips. Your hand wandered into his soft blond hair, the other settling against his firm chest. His hands caressed your body, memorizing every curve and dip, lips chasing yours through every slight movement. And after, he pressed a dozen kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. You giggled, finally catching his lips again.

Your breaths were heavy when he finally pulled away; his, too. You straightened out the fabric of his dress shirt, pulling him back down for one last kiss. Then another. Then, really, one last one.

“I love you, Steve Rogers. Now, then, and always.”

“Now, then, and always.” He murmured, kissing you again.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up before returning to the rest of the party. You blew out your candles and made your wish, for an eternity side by side with him, that wherever life took the two of you, it took you there together.

You had a slice of cake and some ice cream, sitting on the couch next to Steve, legs draped over his. He used his thumb to dab a little frosting onto the tip of your nose. You smeared frosting across his cheek with yours, which made him laugh.

After, there was one last song before most of the guests would be headed home for the night. As soon as the instrumental kicked in, you got emotional. It had been your last song with Steve the night before, a song that had been written about those going off to war, their futures as uncertain as the stars were numerous.

For Steve, it held a different meaning. He’d known then that his time with you was running out. He had no idea when he’d see you again, just that it would be a long time and that the version of you he met wouldn’t even know him yet, that it might be years before he got to kiss you again.

And so, the two of you danced as you had the night before, on Steve’s twenty-fifth and on yours, your face tucked against his, his arms wrapped tight around you as you swayed gently to the music.

“We’ll meet again. Don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…”

Tags: @cap-lu20

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #mcu #soulmate au #steve rogers soulmate au #the avengers

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