#if you're new here the link is to the first no one knows au fic i wrote and the bit ABOVE is now from the sequel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uhdrienne · 3 months ago

Text

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the embodiment of grace and deviousness

⛓️ pairing: seungcheol x f!reader ⛓️ genre: sfw, fluff, angst, mafia au, soulmate au ⛓️ word count: ~8k ⛓️ warnings: mentions of violence, weapons, open wounds. do not interact if it can be triggering! there's going to be cursing too because seungcheol is a grumpy one :") ⛓️ summary: as an author, it's almost poetic that your soulmate tattoo would be a flower. actually... half a flower. a snapdragon, to be exact. the petals on your arm, the vines on seungcheol's. it's even more cliche when you meet him on valentine's day. to you it means grace, but for seungcheol, he still has zero idea on what flower his tattoo is. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious at all, but during this season of love, you're about to figure out exactly what this all means for you and him, the leader of the city's most dangerous mafia.

author's note: suuurprise! to commemorate my first valentines' on this platform, here is a fic, part of @ddeonghwa-s Secret Cupid Event 💌 thank you so much to @ddeonghwa-s for putting this event together, and of course to the wonderful @kpopflowerfield for giving me this opportunity to write for you, i hope you like this as much as i did💘

here is the event masterlist! do support the works of all other authors too, all of them are so so amazing <3 happy valentines' day!!

depending on the POV, italics signify either the author's writing or Seungcheol's thoughts <3

"Territory 13 is acting up again, sir."

"Are they?"

"They're giving trouble. Threatening to cut off our chain supply in the north."

“Hm.”

“We’ve lost a few men fighting them for the past few days. The situation doesn’t seem to be de-escalating, so we reported to you.”

“Nowhere else we can push to weaken them?”

“They seem to have it figured out, sir. They outnumber us at every turn.”

"Well, we can't have that, can we?"

"No, sir."

"You have three hours till dawn. Take the men you need and get it settled. It won't be pretty if I don't get better news by then."

"Yes, sir."

"Go."

He swings his chair around to the fading sky of the night, nursing his glass of amber. He looks down to his full sleeve of black, red, and blue ink. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, like the highlight of a Naturalism painting, a whorl of vines and small, green leaves, linked to the vines of other flowers. He has no idea what it means, has had no idea since the day he got it. Ever since, all he's focused on is getting it covered, blended in with other flowers on his skin.

What is the point of such a mark on his skin, he wonders for the umpteenth time as he runs his hands over the permanent imprint, if the universe won't show me what it means?

He glances at the corner of his screen. 1:30am. 14 February. Hm.

He looks away.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we can proceed with cover design and vetting for you, ma'am."

"Oh... Not possible? At all?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am. Your drafts weren’t given the green light from our Head of Publishing, and our team can't exactly spare the manpower to help you right now."

"...I see. And there’s no one else I can look for? Or….. any contacts you may have?”

“We can try, ma’am, but we can’t promise anything. It’s busy period for us publishers at the moment.”

“Ah. Well, thank you anyway. I hope we can work together in the future."

You put your phone down and sink back into your chair, covering your face with your hands. Your most recent creative co-director pulled out two days ago, another graphic design deal fell through, and now this publishing company. At this rate, you don't know if your book will even ever reach the local bookstore across the street.

You blow out a breath, look down at the only black ink on unblemished skin, the one that's been there since the day you turned 20 years old.... the petals of a snapdragon.

Your phone lights up with a text from a friend, and as you unlock it, the date catches your attention.

14 February. Happy Valentines' Day to you.

Your final straw comes when you're walking home from your office the next night. You rub your tattoo, which has been irritated the whole of today. You have no idea what it means, just that it can't be good for your soulmate bond. But you've never been concerned for him, not the slightest bit, since the day you got the tattoo. Because he's not something you're looking for right now.

Then you hear scuffling, a familiar thing here in the rougher area of town where you live. Your only intention is to walk past and ignore everything. From prior experience, that's the best survival tactic you have: Don't go looking for trouble, and it won't find you.

A man appears on the sidewalk and walks towards you. You walk faster, calculating the distance it takes. Two hundred metres and you'll be under the safety of the street lights. One hundred and fifty. One hundred. The man seems to be getting closer.

You hear a thud. Fuck. What was that?

You squeeze your eyes together and turn around. It sounds stupid, but you'd like to at least see the face of your captor before you see darkness. You read novels about this. When a character gets out of a captor's grasp, they can never tell the police what the kidnappers look like. If now is your time, you won't go down making the same mistake.

Except there isn't a captor nor a body bag. It's just another man, hands in pockets, bending down to survey the unconscious lump on the concrete ground just behind you. He looks at you, the exact moment that you too meet his eyes. And you feel it. At the worst possible time in your life, ever, for crying out loud.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of volts of electricity. A rising and a pop in your head, a sizzling burn on your forearm. Who knew a soulmate bond snapping into place could be this painful? You choke out a gasp as the pain sears, brands itself into your arm. The outline of the flower appears in full glory, the vines entwining itself around your arm as it links with the petals. It's beautiful and horrifying, and you watch as the flower you've been waiting for finally, finally blooms.

Before long, the bloom appears on your forearm. A snapdragon.

The man seems to feel the same thing, as he doubles over in pain, pupils dilated in shock and clutching his arm. His face is covered by his hood so you can't see what he looks like, but he turns and runs, and before long he's disappeared into the darkness.

A few minutes pass before the pain finally subsides, and in its place comes a wave of exhaustion. You sink on the concrete, careful not to stir your unconscious stalker, who's still lying on the ground motionless.

You've found your soulmate. On the day of love.

You touch your mouth when you feel a smile creeping up your face.

--------------------------------

Seungcheol opens his door, barks an order to his guard outside not to disturb him unless "someone is bloody dead", sinks down on a couch and grabs a whisky. He downs it, the burn of the alcohol close to nothing as compared to that of the flower sitting oh-so-innocently on his forearm. He'll never forget the way the snapdragon petals appeared, as if they were burnt into his skin.

He stares at it, remembers the girl who gasped in pain just as he did. He never meant for this to happen. He was only passing by and saw a man from one of the local, problematic gangs sneaking up on you. He only meant to get the man away as he usually would for anyone else, because his principles, despite his rough line of work, never permitted him to disrespect women. He only meant to do one thing and go on his way. He only felt his arm burning right before he turned onto that damn street.

He glares at his arm, like the ordeal is its fault. His hand is shaking. It never shakes.

He didn't mean to feel his bond snap into place, never meant to meet you. He takes another long swig. This is the worst timing ever, he thinks darkly.

Meeting your soulmate on Valentines' Day can't be pure coincidence. If there wasn't a sign before that this was your chance, there very well was now. The next day you come up with a mission plan.

Find the man who is apparently my soulmate

...........

And that's when you sit down and have a good think. What are you even going to do when you do find him, anyway? Get together with him purely because he's meant for you, as the universe dictated? What if he's a rude jerk? What if he's ugly? What if... oh god, what if his breath stinks?

What if... he doesn't like you?

You continue writing on your notepad, absently, mindlessly writing sentences and paragraphs like word-vomit. Before long, you look down on the page to see almost a full journal entry, like you always do when you're anxious or stressed.

"Great," You mutter. "May as well write a book about this."

You enter the bookstore, waving at the little old lady who runs it.

"Good morning," She hums. "What are you looking for?"

You smile, thumbing through the different books on the shelf. "Morning. Something about flowers, maybe? I'm doing research... for a book I'm writing."

She nods. "Perhaps a book that explains the flower on your arm?"

You chuckle. Nothing could ever get past her eyes. "You caught me."

The lady laughs in return. "That," she says, hobbling out from the counter to rummage her inventory, "is a snapdragon. Yours is lovely -- a nice shade of red."

You smile. "Does its colour represent something, too?"

The old lady pulls down a thick book, flips through it and sweeps off the dust on the cover. "Every colour has its representation, but it's also your choice to decide what it means to you." She passes you the book. "In Chinese culture, it means prosperity. It's a lucky colour. For others, it could mean passion and love. It could also mean danger, perhaps courage..."

"Wow," You mumble, flipping through the book. "One colour and thousands of meanings?"

The old lady shrugs. "Colours and nature existed way before we did," She takes the book from you and goes to wrap it up in construction paper. "Is that the tattoo that brings you to your other half?"

"So the world says," You shrug, as you pay for the book. "I had the petals first, so the stem and leaves appeared when I met him, but I don't know where he is... or even what he looks like."

The lady nods in understanding. "I wouldn't worry. You'll find your way back to each other. I'd think that's what the tattoo's for."

"Do you know about them? What do they do?"

"Some stories say they help soulmates detect when one is in danger. Other stories say the closer you are, the warmer it feels... I've never tried."

Huh. You nod. "Thank you. So very much."

There is a soft shimmer of fascination in the old lady's eyes as she waves you goodbye. "I have faith that what's meant for you will come to you in due course, dear. Have a good day now."

------------------------------------

Seungcheol hasn't stopped glowering at his tattoo all day. It looks... out of place. The petals aren't supposed to be there. It looks like an outsider, a strange feeling he can't place. If this is the bond acting up, he surmises, it fucking sucks.

He needs coffee to cure the pounding headache building up.

He orders someone to get his coffee, and as he sits to wait, he taps at his keyboard impatiently, trying to figure out how the tattoo had built up.

The petals came later, he thinks. Is that supposed to mean something?

When his right-hand man, a freckled, tan man comes in with the coffee, Seungcheol is still none the wiser on the phenomenon. So he lowers his guard (for once, he thinks bitterly, for a soulmate bond of all things), and asks the man who's currently laying his coffee cup down. "Lee."

Lee looks up. "Yes, sir?"

"What do you know about soulmate bond tattoos?"

Lee looks visibly excited. "Did you get yours, sir?"

"Asking for a friend," Seungcheol deflects immediately. "So, what do you know about it?"

"I have one, sir," Lee says, and rolls up his sleeve to reveal a... half-faded anchor tattoo. "I was so.... it felt so strange to meet my other half."

"Strange. What was it like?"

Lee shrugs as he sets down a serviette. "Can I speak freely?"

Seungcheol waves at him to go ahead. He's usually the man who acts like he has a stick up his ass, but this time, he wants to find out everything he can about having a soulmate. Just so I don't drag the poor girl down with me for no good reason, he reasons to himself.

"It wasn't all good feelings," Lee explains thoughtfully, hands pausing mid-air. "My soulmate... he was an underground weapons dealer. And you know people in our circle, we don't do feelings. They're liabilities, it's another thing enemies can use against us." He chuckles bitterly. "That was one of the only things we had in common."

Seungcheol doesn't miss the way he's speaking in past tense. "You don't have to explain yourself," He says cautiously.

"No, that's okay," Lee says. "It was a while back. See, I have fading scars to prove that."

"What did it... feel like?"

"It started fading and it hurt so much, I knew something was wrong." Lee shows his arm again.

"What happened?"

Lee shrugs. "He died in an underground turf war. One of those."

Seungcheol makes eye contact. "Did you at least have good days with him?"

Lee looks at him, then looks away. "We did. Almost left the circle for each other, but..." He shrugs again. "Time just wasn't on our side."

"No," Seungcheol agrees. "It wasn't."

His fists clench. So this is what could happen to both parties who were in the circle, nevermind a civilian. He nods. "Thank you for telling me."

Lee gives him a half-smile. "So is this about your tattoo?"

"Y- No, for my friend," Seungcheol replies, cursing himself at the slip-up.

"I see," Lee says, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. Seungcheol knows Lee doesn't believe him. As his right-hand man for years, how could he not see through Seungcheol? He starts walking towards the door. "Well, tell your friend that if there's anything I learnt, it's that time is a bitch. There's going to be a lot of fear, and it won't be pretty. But... take it from me," He smiles sadly. "It's going to feel worse when you don't treasure time and lose them. After all...." He opens the door. "I lived to tell the tale."

When the door closes behind him, Seungcheol leans back into his chair and rubs his temples.

"Some soulmates you find in the lecture hall of your school. Some you find along the way of life. Some... are pre-ordained by the universe, in the form of a snapdragon tattoo.

But are these... pre-meditated, pre-planned people meant to stay?"

You put down your pen.

You're curious. At the world, for giving you a person. How that system came about. About your soulmate. What he's like, what he looks like.

But there's no straightforward way to find him. No instruction manual that tells you where to go and what to do.

You decide to take a walk that evening. No distance limit. Just wherever your feet takes you.

And it brings you to this cafe on a street you've never been, with soft music and oak furniture, and a smiley, freckled and tan man behind the counter grins at you. "Welcome to Choi's."

"Hello," You say, smiling a bit. "Could I get a latte, and... that croissant? It looks amazing."

"Of course," He says, before turning to another burly staff that just appeared. "Get her a latte, will you?"

The staff nods, and disappears behind the coffee machine.

You take a seat, and hum as you wait. When the pastry and drink appear on your table, you thank the staff and look down to see the milk foam in the shape of a heart. Mmm. You take a sip, already feeling a lot better.

The bell jingles, and a man steps in, hands in his pockets. and heads for the counter. By force of habit, you look up and send him a cursory glance. And then you freeze. The man has rolled up his sleeves as he speaks to the staff, as if they already know each other, and on his arms....

A full tattoo sleeve of flowers. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, a whorl of vines leading to the most prominent flower. It looks fresh, like it was inked in a mere five minutes earlier.... in a shade of brilliant red... a snapdragon.

It's him.

The man must have excellent situational awareness because he acutely notices someone staring at him and he turns to you. Your shell-shocked face, your trembling hands... and his eyes fall on your forearm.

Choi Seungcheol had never felt this thunderstruck, not even when he found out half his men had been bought over by rivals years ago. He knows he'll never forget this feeling.

So he does the next best thing. He excuses himself from his staff and leaves.

So you get up and run after him.

Seungcheol's in the middle of cursing himself and the world out when he hears your voice calling for him.

"Sir...?"

He can pretend he doesn't know you're calling him. Sure. He can do that. Keep on walking, Seungcheol.

Until he hears running, and a tap on his shoulder. Ah.

He swallows, closes his eyes, and turns around. "Yes?" He asks coldly.

Ah. So he's not in the habit of making conversation, you think. "I'm really sorry about this, but can I...."

"Can you what?" Seungcheol replies, even though he already knows what you're going to say.

"Can I see your arm? For a second? I just wanted to make sure I wasn't seeing wrongly."

"No, you may not."

You cringe. Silence dwindles between both of you. "Uh... right."

Seungcheol reaches for his car key. "Why do you want to see my arm, love?" He casts a cursory glance at your arm. "To see if I'm your soulmate?"

You look down, then at him. "...Yeah. I got this tattoo, and I don't know what my soulmate looks like, so..."

"So you're trying to find him in me, huh?" Seungcheol doesn't mean to be rude, but this is the only way to get you off his back, at least until he knows how to move forward. The least he can do is to warn you. "News flash, love. I'm just a man who enjoys flowers. But me as your soulmate?" He chuckles and presses a button. From a distance, his car makes a beeping sound and unlocks. "I highly doubt it. You'll need to know who we are before you enter our world."

"And who are you?" The words come out before you can stop them.

Seungcheol supposes it doesn't hurt to establish who he is, just so you'll have enough sense to stay away.

"The mafia, love," He says softly, as he walks towards his car. "I'm the leader, here. I'd advise you to stay away from me, soulmate or otherwise."

When his car pulls away, you sigh and look at your tattoo.

The biggest joke the universe could have pulled on you. Making a mafia leader, out of 8 billion other people, your soulmate.

When he reaches home, Seungcheol reaches for his phone. When Lee answers, Seungcheol gives him a long list of things to do, for the cafe and for the mafia.

"Has anyone caught on the cafe yet?" He asks.

"Nope," Lee answers. "It was a good front to keep track of the public, but it seems like a normal cafe to them. So I'd say everything's fine, boss."

"Good."

"Anything else?" Lee says.

"....One more thing." Seungcheol says, sighing through his nose. "A girl came to the cafe tonight."

"...Uh-huh."

"The girl in the white cardigan and jeans."

"Right."

"Warn her not to divulge who we are and what the cafe really is. With any luck, she'll figure out that the cafe is protecting us."

"Protecting us..." Lee gasps. "Sir, you told her who you are? Why?"

"To get her to leave me alone," Seungcheol mutters. "Anyway, just tell her to zip her mouth. I don't care how you do it."

He regrets the words once they exit his mouth. "Just don't hit her or anything. We're not in that business."

A soft laugh comes over the phone. "She your soulmate or something, boss?"

Seungcheol pinches his nose. "So she thinks. Just because we have a matching..."

An idea hits him. "Do me another favour."

"Name it, boss."

"Find out where she was last night. Just to make clear something for me."

"You got it."

A knock on your door sounds in the middle of the night. When you open the door, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you flinch when two burly guys flanking the same freckled, tan man from the cafe last night step in your doorway.

"Uh...you're from the cafe, aren't you?"

"I thought a familiar face might help matters," The freckled man says. "My name's Lee. And you?"

You introduce yourself cautiously, but you look at the two men. "So... what the man said yesterday was true? You're not really a cafe, are you?"

Lee shrugs. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, anyway." He nods to the men. "We just came here to give a little warning."

You have a feeling you already know. "What warning?"

"Don't pry, and don't tell," Lee says, still smiling, but you sense the underlying threat within. "I don't know what business you have with us, but it should end now." He nods at you. "For both yours and our good."

The burly man on the left makes a point of nodding towards your home. "We know where you live, and we can find you no matter where you go. Don't complicate things for yourself. You won't like what comes next."

And they leave, leaving you shaking in the doorway. Anger courses through you. Your soulmate sent people after you to push you away.

You don't know everything about soulmate bonds, but what you do know is that soulmates are drawn to each other: to protect, and to take care of. Either your soulmate is very, very clueless; or he just doesn't want anything to do with you. You have to find out which answer it is before you decide whether to let go of him or not.

Alright, Mr. Mafia Boss, you clench your teeth. I don't have to deal with your mafia directly to get an audience with you. Let's see how far this game can go.

Moonlight slants through his ceiling-to-floor windows. Seungcheol grits his teeth as he watches the surveillance that Lee found for him. You, walking home the night of 14 February, around 10pm, going faster and faster as that son-of-a-bitch followed you. His arms rest on his chair as he sees himself appear and knock the guy out cold.

He sighs. So it really was you. He'd recognise that face anywhere.

He looks at his tattoo once more, hating how perfectly it entwines with the rest of his tattoos. So much for covering it up. He turns his arm around again and again. It's exquisite, but it lies there like a burden.

And it picks the perfect timing to start burning. Seungcheol grunts in pain, clutching his arm as it burns, sears with the same pain it did that night. He doesn't know how the system came about, but what he knows is this: You're in danger. And as annoyed as he is about this whole situation, he has to find you. If only to make the pain stop.

He reaches for his telephone, and when the other line picks up he hisses: "Find her. Now. Scour all the surveillance in the city. I don't care what you have to do, but find her."

He can hear his man barking out orders in the background, and he shakily puts the phone down. Lee comes bursting into the room, grabs Seungcheol's arm to check on him. Normally, Seungcheol would have the head of anyone who dared to touch him without permission, but given Lee's position in this predicament, he allows him to.

"Is it supposed to be like this?" Seungcheol groans out. "It hurts like hell."

"Yup," Lee mutters. "It is. Looks and seems exactly like mine whenever Bri got into danger."

"Danger--" Seungcheol scowls and tries getting up. "You mean she's injured?"

Lee shrugs. "I don't know if it extends to normal minor situations, but whenever Bri got into a fight, I'd feel my arm burning."

"Her, fight. Don't make me laugh," Seungcheol scoffs, then grunts again as another wave of pain hits him. "She looks like she couldn't hurt a fly."

"We've located her, boss," Another man comes into the room, holding a laptop towards him.

"Where?"

When silence answers him, he hisses. "I didn't ask you this question for you to not fucking reply. I asked where?"

"The border of Territory 7, sir."

"What the hell is she doing there? Is she an underworld member, too?" Lee wonders out loud.

Seungcheol pushes himself up off his seat, wincing as his arm throbs slightly. "Fuck if I know. But I guess I have to find her if I want this pain to stop."

"I'll get men and go with you," Lee starts, but Seungcheol waves him off. "No need. We don't need to stir up a fuss, not when the territories are already misbehaving these few weeks. I'll get her, and... figure it out later."

You're tapping your foot as you wander the edges of the city's largest turf. It's well-known that civilians shouldn't pass by here if they want to get home alive and well, but with the recent news of unrest stirring in such turfs, you figure that it's the best way to seek Seungcheol out. It's stupid, but it's your best bet. Plus, you figure that the nearer you are to

You must be near a group of militants on patrol duty, because you can hear hushed orders and boots crunching. You sigh and look at your watch.

"Are you actually stupid?"

You raise your head. "So it worked. So nice of you to join me this evening."

Seungcheol storms towards you. "So you tricked me?"

"Wasn't a trick." You mutter. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You are a nutcase," He seethes, as he grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. "Do you have any idea what would happen if anyone caught you? These few places are red-light districts now. You're not supposed to be here."

"I wouldn't know. You came anyway."

Seungcheol lets you go and huffs at you. "Go home, and don't get any more stupid ideas. Yes, I'm your soulmate. Yes, my tattoo is also a snapdragon, and I guess I can sense when you're in places you shouldn't be because my arm fucking burns, okay? Got your answer?"

"No," You say defiantly. "I haven't found out one thing. Why were you so desperate to deny that you weren't my soulmate? But you still came running anyway."

"This," He hisses, stepping closer to you, "is a pain in my ass. I can't work if my tattoo's going to start hurting every half hour. So for god's sake, please stay out of anything that doesn't concern you. Do not run into a lion's den to get an audience with me."

"So you're going to give me a way to contact you?" You shrug. "Sure, if that will keep me from making rash decisions."

Seungcheol furrows his brows. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well, you can't think I'm going to let you go after all of this, do you?"

What??

"Did I not make myself clear en-"

"Oh, you did," You say. "Like you said, you came running because you could sense I was somewhere I shouldn't be. So you can't stay away no matter how much I piss you off, can you?"

"I nev-"

"That's how soulmates work, Mr. Mafia Boss." You say smugly. "We can't stay away from each other, like a moth can't stray from the light."

Seungcheol scowls at you and then proceeds to maintain a ten-second glaring competition until he blows out a breath.

"Ten more reasons why I hate this bond so much," He mutters, before pulling out a business card and shoving it into your hands. "I've got ground rules. Don't call me for stupid reasons. Do not call to ask me out privately. Do not give my number to anyone for any reason. No exceptions, unless you want a bullet through your brain."

"Did you just threaten to shoot me...." You peruse the business card. "Choi Seungcheol?"

"Yes, and what about it?"

"You know nothing about being a gentleman."

"Never said I was one. Get in the car."

"You''re going to shoot me in there? With the expensive leather?"

"I will if you don't keep your mouth shut and start moving."

You zip it and follow him.

Success. You've met your soulmate. (You're sitting in his car, too.)

He said you couldn't call. But texting exists, so.... You're determined to bug him until he takes notice.

"It's me."

He leaves you on read.

The next day you add another message. "I guess I'll write to an empty chatroom. I'm doing good, I just had a sandwich for breakfast and I'm going to continue writing now."

5pm: "I'm done with my next chapter. Trying to find an illustrator for the cover. I'm craving soup."

11pm: "goodnight! hope your work or whatever's going well. You can't tell me anything about what you're doing?"

And so it continues, for a full three days, with silly texts about a sentence error you wrote, or a funny thing you ate, or asking him what he's doing at work, until you get a single response from him that has you rolling your eyes: "Be quiet."

You do not, to Seungcheol's chagrin, keep quiet.

He didn't think you could talk so much to someone who never replied. In a week he'd all but figured out your life pattern: wake up, eat, write (he had no idea what you were writing), find publishers and illustrators, take a walk maybe in the late afternoon, eat again, and write until it was time to sleep. You lead an awfully idyllic life compared to him, he thinks as he closes your text.

You also seem to have a love for soup, he realises. The weirdest fucking craving.

And croissants from his fake cafe. You sent him photos of it across the week, and he wonders how you never get tired of the damn thing. Your food cravings change from soup to something else every now and then, getting more bizarre with each one. (Pasta with pickles? Really?)

It was cute. (He cursed himself out after thinking about it.)

And so it goes for two more weeks until Seungcheol decides this has to stop. He texts you back for once, and you're elated as you read his text.

"Be ready Saturday night. Zip it for now, will you? I'm trying to work."

You're waiting outside your house when he pulls up. You already know that he knows exactly where you live, so you never bothered texting him your address. You get in once he stops the car, his grumpy face still on full display.

"Thanks for taking me out," You say, smiling at him, and he grunts as he pulls out and steps on the accelerator. "Isn't that exactly what you wanted?"

You shrug. "And you gave in. Is that a soulmate thing?"

"I will drop you off right this second if you say 'soulmate' one more time." He threatens.

He rubs the sleeve covering the skin on which his tattoo lies, and you frown. "Is it causing you trouble? I haven't gone anywhere weird recently, though."

"No. And you better not have."

He doesn't say much after that, simply drives about twenty minutes to a sleek, al fresco restaurant. The neon lights, warm-looking space draws you in, and when you read the menu outside while waiting for him to park...

"Soup? So you did read my texts!"

"You won't shut up about it. A little hard to miss it even if I wanted to."

You chuckle and flip through the menu. "So what're you getting?"

"You pick, you're the one craving soup of all things," He mutters absently. "Don't really care. Just came to get a message across."

"What is it?"

"Sit first before I tell you."

And so you do. He lets you get tomato soup and grilled cheese, pasta and a soda, and says absolutely nothing. He eats a little, rolling his eyes at the amount you inhale. Finally, you put down your fork. "So what did you want to tell me?"

He swallows his water before putting the glass down. "Just one thing."

You cock your head. "I'm listening."

"Why are you contacting me personally, so often? I'm sure I said not to do that."

"You said not to call," You reply, smiling. When he looks like he's about to protest, you smile again. "So I texted."

"You're fucking impossible," He mutters.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing. Anyway, stop that. I'm a busy man."

"I know. That's why I text, like, three times in a day. It's not a lot, is it?"

His hand comes down on the table, not loud enough to cause a scene but firm enough to catch your attention. "I don't have the time to entertain you, Miss Y/N. You know who I am, and that was my fault, and I think it would do you good to remember that."

"Pulling the mafia leader card on me, again?" You sigh and shake your head. "I don't know what you do, and you won't tell me. I write about people like you and mobsters. You're exactly what I write in my books."

"I am not one of your little book characters," Seungcheol hisses back. "I am not a work of fiction or something you pull out of your imagination and twist about like your plaything. I am real, and I am someone who can hurt you if I want to. And I don't owe you any information. Stop bothering me, got it?"

"Is that why you brought me here?" A surge of confidence and defiance grips you. He couldn't have taken you out to somewhere he knew you'd enjoy for no reason.

He scowls. “I can go wherever I want. Don’t read too much into it.”

You grin. “Sure.”

He nods.

“So can I continue messaging you?”

He groans. “Did you not get any of what I just said?”

You shrug. "Guess you’ll have to tell me a few more times.”

He sighs loudly, and his fingers drum the table as he seemingly goes deep into thought. The scowl is almost becoming a permanent fixture on his face, you think.

After a long moment, he groans and utters: “Next Sunday. 6pm.”

He takes you out two more times. The next Sunday, to a small restaurant you chose. This time he ate better, the consistent strain in his forehead almost easing as he bit into the lasagna.

He answered your questions, albeit grumpily, and when you got off his car that night, you thought, as you opened your journal up again, that he was finally, finally warming up to you.

But the next time he brings you out, he is visibly in a stormy mood, barely making conversation and stabbing his meat with his fork.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask.

“No.”

And there the conversation ends.

As dessert rolls in, you try one more time.

“So… how’s work lately?”

“Fine.”

“Ah.”

Please talk. Please.

“You know, I always wonder what a mafia boss does,” You pick up your spoon. “Like, order kills or something?”

Seungcheol picks up his glass. “I remember telling you not to ask about what I do.”

“And you don’t have to give me a full answer,” You shrug. “I’m just asking for a general idea. I thought it’d be nice if I got to know what you do.”

Seungcheol sits back in his seat. "Don't read too much into what I do, love." He takes another sip of water. "You can't honestly think I'm interested in you enough to reveal myself after a few meals. You said you're a writer. You shouldn't be this easy to lie to, you know that?"

Yeah, screw this.

Any confidence you had sizzles out. Easy to lie to. He thinks you're a gullible, small girl eating up every morsel of attention he deigns to give you when he feels like it. Red-hot, burning humiliation and shame rise in you.

After a long pause, you nod. "Alright. Fine. I get it. I apologise for occupying your time."

He surveys you for a second, then nods, like he just made a good business deal. "Just so we make things clear with each other."

"Crystal," You reply, no warmth in your words. "I think I finally got what you wanted to say. I thought you just weren't used to this... idea of having a soulmate, so I wanted to warm you up to it. But now I see you never wanted one in the first place."

Seungcheol furrows his brows just a fraction.

You push your chair back. You're careful not to look or seem angry, in part not to show him you're affected, and also to just... save face. He already embarrassed you. No need to do it again in public. "Take care, Mr. Choi. Thanks for putting up with me, anyway. It won't happen again. I’ll get the bill."

Soulmate, my ass.

----------------------------------

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.

Glass meets the plaster of the wall. His tattoo lies there, barren, lacking its usual warmth even though nothing was taken away.

----------------------------------

Ladies and gentlemen, this is perhaps how the story goes. He pushed her away, and she realised how the universe’s plan, this whole concept, had utterly failed. There were never meant to be pre-ordained people. People change, and oftentimes they disappoint…

The journal remains open, the last sentence discontinued.

T w o M o n t h s L a t e r

Soft, oozing vocals of Clara Bow fill your apartment as you pack your writing materials. You're done writing for the day.

You glance at the clock. Nine p.m. In time for a snack and TV before you head to bed.

When you turn on the TV, the news catches your attention. Another territory struggle, another turf battle for control. You shake your head and switch the channel. Typical.

As you settle down into the cushions with chips and a glass of white wine, sudden searing pain, hot and white and agonising, shoots down your arm. You gasp and grasp it in your other hand, almost keeling over at how painful it is.

Something is wrong. Very, very, wrong.

You sink to the floor, clutching your arm and sweat starting to bead your forehead. It hurts, your arm hurts, everything hurts.

Is Seungcheol in trouble?

His name card. Right. You can just find out for yourself, and if he asks, you could just say the tattoo's causing you a lot of pain. Yes. That's it.

You stagger to your drawers to find his card, messing everything up in the process. You fumble for your phone and dial his number, again and again and again, but all you’re greeted with is a beep and an automated voice instructing you to leave a message.

You don’t know what to do. No emergency contact, no one you can find… hell, you don’t even know where he is. As you’re standing, getting ready to run out and search, there's a pounding on your door.

You barely make it to the door and open it, and there stands the freckled, tan man whose name you never got. He looks awkward, eyes racing to your tattoo. "I'm sure you must be in a lot of pain," He says. "Mr. Choi ordered me to check on you."

"Check on me?" You almost wheeze. "What's going on that my arm hurts this badly?"

Lee shakes his head. "Not right now. We will talk in the van."

"Of course you can't say." You snap, patience wearing thin, temper as riled up as the pain in your arm. You're done with his secrets. "I can't know what he's doing, I can't know where he is, or if he's alive or dead, even if the pain he's causing may very well kill me too."

"You won't die," Lee says, a little more kindly. "If this comforts you, my soulmate's gone, and I'm still here."

Your anger evaporates a fraction. "I'm sorry about that."

"No need to be." Lee sighs, then reaches his own arm out. "Hold on to me, I won’t do anything weird. I'll take you to him. He's going to be a bitch when he sees you, but... I think it would be good for both of you. More often than not, distance breaks things apart."

"He's enough of a bitch even when I'm around," You mumble, but you take his arm anyway as he helps you out.

Without much effort, he gets you into the van he came in, and barks out an order to the curious men inside to drive into what he calls "The Heart".

"What's the Heart?" You ask, as he passes you a canteen of water to drink from.

"It's what it sounds like. The heart of our territory." Lee explains, eyes trained in front. "Mr. Choi's there when we... have scuffles, and that's usually the place where security is tightest, so he can be near to us to get updates and give orders, and still not get into danger."

"So he is a leader."

"He is, and one of those you wouldn't want to cross. He's quick with his work, and he can resort to getting his hands dirty if he has to. His network and connections are... frighteningly impressive, to say the least."

"Funny how I'm hearing it from you and not him," You huff as you lay your head back, trying not to think about the pain.

"He hasn't had the experience of telling people about his life, Miss," Lee chuckles. "But I figured you'll know eventually, so better sooner than later, right?"

"Sooner than later?"

"You're meant to stick around him, Miss. For the good and bad. You're his soulmate, after all."

"I don't know if we'll get there." You sigh, and close your eyes. "Is he badly hurt? Will me being there even help matters?"

Lee shrugs. "We'll find out."

Lee gets six men to flank you both as he walks you in. Up ahead, there's a building seemingly made of unforgiving steel, it's blank canvas looming in the dark red, streaked sky.

"That's the Heart?"

"That’s the one. Unpenetrable, Miss. Let's go in."

You pray for all your sakes it really is as Lee takes you up into the elevator. When he opens one of the (almost) hundreds of similar doors to lead to an empty, cell-like room, and inside sits Seungcheol, with a red fabric pressed---

"You're bleeding," You blurt. The pain in your arm subsides just a fraction, perhaps jarred by the sensation of finally, finally, meeting him.

He looks up, eyes twisting in furious shock as he glares at Lee, and then you (you don’t know why). "Exactly which part of my order did you not understand, Lee?"

Lee bows his head in apology. "I'll never take away a chance to meet your soulmate away, you know that, sir."

Seungcheol scowls hard, and you're almost afraid he's going to shoot Lee there and then.

"Get out."

Lee smiles, ushers you in and walks out. "I'll be back in half an hour to report. I'll call for the doctor again."

You bend and peel aside the fabric. Once white, it's now soaked red, it's warmth unsettling. There's blood, so much of it, and on his once unblemished skin now contains a mess of open flesh, blood, and a...

A bullet.

"A gun." You mumble.

"Try not to throw up." He replies, ever-so-gently nudging you away. "This is Armani."

"You jerk."

His face twists in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." The anger is returning. "You say all sorts of fucking nonsense to keep me away, and we meet again months later because you're shot. And that may be a normal day for you, Mr. Choi, but us civilians don't go about our day-to-day expecting a bullet hole to appear in our skin."

His hand clenches up.

"This is why I said everything I did," He snarls in return, putting more pressure on his wound. "I knew I would never want you to try to handle what I am!"

"You never let me try," You hiss. "You refused to tell me anything, to let me see what your life was like. No, you chose to shut me out! And don't you dare tell me what I can or can't handle."

He huffs. "I see no reason in dragging you, or anyone else, in when it isn't needed."

"Yet Lee brought me here tonight." You point out. "He knows something you clearly don't."

"Lee is a nosy fucker." He snaps.

"He's someone who's experienced it all. His soulmate is gone, Seungcheol."

"And look at the pain it caused him. At least if anything happens to me, it's no love lost for you."

"Shut up."

"What?"

"I said shut up. Sometimes people want to help you. Sometimes people wouldn't actually mind, I don't know, going into this Heart place to check on you. Sometimes, you need to get it into your thick skull that I actually want to be here, to make sure you don't die while this stupid snapdragon is burned into me!"

His eyes meet yours.

"But you won't get it!" You chuckle. "You send men to check on me when I’m in pain, but I doubt you have any intention of finding me after all this gets better."

"You think I wanted to?" He shoots back.

"And you think I had it all settled for me? That I was better off not knowing the person that was meant for me, this whole time?"

"I never wanted that." Seungcheol insists hotly. "Look at my world, it's a mess, a violent place, a--"

"And there has to be a reason I'm the one picked out!" You defend. "Do you have any idea what snapdragons stand for?"

When he doesn't reply, you continue. "It stands for grace and strength. I can handle all of this. I'm not meant to measure up with your headstrong personality anyway."

"Then what are you meant for?" He asks, tone now soft, dejected.

"To complement you," You reply. You've never been this sure in your life. "To make up for the traits you lack. I'm not supposed to be as strong, or as fierce as you are. I'm meant to... ground you. That's what soulmates are. To... allow each other's strengths to shine and make up for what they don't have yet."

Seungcheol goes quiet.

"And you?" He asks, after a long pause. "What do I complement you in?"

You survey him again. "That's something I can't discover yet, because you won't let me."

“So what do you suggest?” He continues.

“No more hiding. Show me who you are. No restraint, I don’t need you to keep anything secret.”

“What if you end up like Lee?”

“Then it would have been a life well spent, at least.”

Seungcheol grunts with effort as he leaves his seat and stumbles to you. "And if I obeyed, and let you in?"

You look at him square in the eye. "Then it would be my honour to stand with you... or in the shadows, or wherever you make me stand."

"This sounds a lot like an induction of one of my men," Seungcheol murmurs. "I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?" You ask softly.

Seungcheol looks down at you, emotions warring in his eyes. After a while, he slumps and turns away. “Fuck. I can’t do this to you.”

“Tell me what you want, Seungcheol,” You say quietly. “You order people around for a living. I’m telling you to be honest with me, too.”

"…You. With me. Wherever you, or I, want to be."

You shrug a little as he cups your face. "I can live with that."

"You better," Seungcheol mumbles, as his mouth finds yours at last, burning more than any wretched tattoo, warmth spreading to your fingertips. "After everything you just said... I don't imagine you're going anywhere for a while."

February 14, 2026

The doctor came to patch him up. His hand squeezed yours hard as the bullet was finally pried out of him.

It's honestly a blur to you now when you think about it, but all you remember is his eyes boring into yours, his unwavering, callused grip on your hand.

"The snapdragon symbolises strength and grace reflected in their tall, strong stems, blooms and resistance to colder temperatures. Others believe they also represent deception and deviousness.

She embodied grace. She was his missing piece, the trait he needed to complement his headstrong nature. But he also needed someone strong enough to stand with him, through every obstacle his work throws him in. And she... she needed his courage and unwavering will to stand with her through it all."

You put the pen down. Mmm. Not too bad for a closing chapter. You send a text to the new publishing house that you contacted two weeks ago. They had seen your draft, and they loved it. Two weeks from now, when everything is settled, you promise yourself, you will show Seungcheol. He'd been curious for a while now about what holed you up in your writing room.

"Love?"

You look up from biting into your croissant. "Well, look who's back from Sicily. How did the meetings go?"

Seungcheol smiles and opens his arms. "Not too bad. I suppose the love you share for novels, along with the Don's* wife, was a selling point. She was most keen on sending you," He cocks his head to the pile of books at his feet, "this. She said it'd make a good Valentines' gift, since I've been poor at accompanying you these few months."

"That sounds perfect. We're both suckers for romances."

As you sink into his embrace, the tattoo once again burns, but it's not the passionate, red-hot zealous heat. It's warm, comforting, like a hot chocolate in winter.

He sighs. "Happy Valentines', love. I'm going to lose my girl to a bunch of fictional mafia men again?"

"You know it."

"I still don't understand why. You have one right here, next to y-"

"Softer! Do you want the whole town to hear you?"

fin.

*Don = the highest role in an organised crime family

thank you for reading 💟

main masterlist

572 notes · View notes

landoslvr · 1 year ago

Text

MRS CLARKEY | g. clarke

summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs clarkey'. [social media AU.]

pairing: fem!reader x george clarke

faceclaim: steph hui

notes: first piece for mrs george out of the wag universe. steph is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs clarkey, hopefully you like it! this is the longest one I've done so far.. definitely want to do a fic for their first meeting and for the useless hotline podcast- maybe even the ski trip!

liked by user, user and 37,923 others

yourinstagram happy halloween 💋💋

view all 281 comments

user you're literally so hot y/n

user I want to be you so bad

user how can I look like that

user jeez u flexible or something baby?

user the dress? the hair? the makeup??? unreal

yourinstagram thank you!! I did it myself xxx

user shes godly

user have fun tonight!!

user she's the only girl I know to have an impromptu photoshoot and then go out drinking

yourinstagram gotta take the outfit for a spin!!!

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 58,283 others

georgeclarkeey you should've seen the other guy!

view all 198 comments

user george wth

user its the vomit on the cheerleading outfit for me

chrismd10 looking good mate

wroetoshaw nice eyebrow....... eyebrow singular

georgeclarkeey yes I got that thank you

user AS IF Y/N FOUND HIM ON HER NIGHT OUT

user I KNOW!! I came from her tweets after everyone tagging this guy

chrismd10 you getting referred to as 'this guy' on your own post is so funny to me

georgeclarkeey well, you're huge aren't you?

arthurtv loving the new look mate

user waiting for y/n to join the comments 🫣

user me too 😶😶

yourinstagram its great to know what you look like with both of your eyebrows george! a pleasure to have met you, despite the circumstances...

georgeclarkeey my left eyebrow was too intimidated by seeing betty boop in the flesh it ran away!

user my heart 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, max_balegde and 37,192 others

yourinstagram went on the useless hotline podcast this week to talk about me saving the george clarke! thank you very much for having me boys 🤍

view all 302 comments

user she's just so pretty

user as if model queen y/n saved youtuber george clarke 😭 not over that at all

georgeclarkeey always a pleasure, you're welcome back anytime you feel like scraping me off of the pavement

yourinstagram anytime you need me, I'll be there to call the ambulance

user LOVE that coat

georgeclarkeey also feeling something.. or someone.. is missing from this post?

yourinstagram idk what you want from me here clarke

max_balegde ahhhhhh!!!!!! such a pleasure to meet the woman that singlehandedly saved my co-host from death <3 thanks so much for coming on, martini besties for life now

yourinstagram call me anytime you need multiple olives!!!

max_balegde three olives, extra dry!!

user stop I hope they all stay friends 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 39,219 others

yourinstagram casual 'saved your life/face' dinner post

view all 331 comments

user nahhhhhhhhh because this is a date

user y/n looks so good 😭😭

user lets not ignore George Clarke wearing something other than a t-shirt

chrismd10 impressed you managed to get him in slacks!

georgeclarkeey your mum brought them for me

user THAT DRESS

user I just wanna be you y/n

user George has major cake its not funny

max_balegde literally should be criminal

georgeclarkeey you saved my life I am eternally grateful

yourinstagram 👽👽👽

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 40,938 others

yourinstagram visiting the mountain tops with some new friends x

view all 370 comments

user bitch we know that's george clarkey, fess up

max_balegde the love of my life really tbh, you look sooooo good

yourinstagram max I'll cry

user drop the link for the jackets!!

user that is george clarke's watch missy

user so you just so happen to be on a ski trip at the same time at george and his friends?????????? coincidence? I think NOT

user I know george is using ever fibre of his being not to comment on this right now

liked by yourinstagrm, miniminter and 59,902 others

georgeclarkeey there's 'snow' way it's this cold in the mountains

view all 286 comments

user Y/N TAKE OF THE SKI MASK COWARD

user we literally know it's her

chrismd10 handsome fellas

user literally just tell us you're dating guys

wroetoshaw high altitude my friend

user love these pics of the boys together

arthurtv distinguished skiers and snowboarders

charliehutchens really good ones too

user do you think y/n had to throw her phone out of her hotel room to stop herself from commenting?

user yes, yes I do

liked by georgeclarkeey, wroetoshaw and 37,981 others

yourinstagram out and about ✈️🗺️

view all 320 comments

user should we tell y/n that she posted a picture of George in the 4th slide and then proceeded to cut his head out of the 6th one????

user let her live in peace I guess???

user wow, no one is immune to stupidity these days 😭

user can't believe they took her so young :(

georgeclarkeey you're not getting that poster back

yourinstagram if you do not return my harry styles poster I will sue

georgeclarkeey I am best friends with a real legit lawyer, so good luck with that love

user LOVE???? LITERALLY JUST PUNCH ME IN THE FACE NEXT TIME GEORGE

liked by yourinstagram, stephentries and 61,192 others

georgeclarkeey chris informed us that you all know we're dating so no more discreet photo dumps I guess?

view all 401 comments

user DISCREET WHERE?

user WAR IS OVERRRRRR

user quick everyone act like we didn't see this shit coming

user the way he tried to do her dirty in the last 3 pics but he literally can't

user she's just so pretty

user I wanna be her

max_balegde mrs clarkey!!!!!!

yourinstagram !!!!!

chrismd10 you're so welcome mate

user she's so gorgeous

user kills me

user george x y/n girlies won today

yourinstagram 🤍🤍🤍 love you big stupid idiot 🤍🤍🤍 once I posted the invisalign it was over..

georgeclarkeey guys gotta eat

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurfhill and 43,938 others

yourinstagram casual 'I can finally post my boyfriend' post!!!!

view all 493 comments

user guys I love today

user this makes me so happy

chrismd10 the power of drunken lime bike rides!

yourinstagram thank you lime bikes

user the alien picture kills me

max_balegde can't wait to have you back on the pod as mrs clarkey

yourinstagram a promotion, for me???

user george is so cute, I envy y/n!

arthurtv it's about time tbh

user I've been waiting for this one

georgeclarkeey was worth losing half of an eyebrow I guess

yourinstagram maybe the eyebrows were the friends we made along the way?

#george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarke #george clarkey imagine #george clarke imagine #george clarkey #cel's social media aus #mrs clarkey

952 notes · View notes

sashaisready · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet and Sour (completed)

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

This is an AU Mob!Bucky fic set in Brooklyn.

Warnings: Smut, violence, swearing, allusions to violence, descriptions of blood, threats on life, swearing, kidnapping, stalking/tailing, murder (happens 'offscreen' but referenced and some description of bodies), vomiting, gun violence, some manipulation and nasty treatment of reader by Bucky, dubcon with a minor character, near car accident, alcohol use, possessive/jealous Bucky.

Other MCU characters pop up along the way.

Bucky can be quite dark in this fic and doesn't always behave well...I wouldn't say it's a dark fic as such...maybe soft dark? But he's a bit of a manipulative shithead so heed my warning! He's good at heart though...

Lots of angst and fluff thrown in for good measure.

In my head this Bucky has longer hair but of course you are free to picture your favourite Bucky incarnation. Reader is fem, generally not described but has hair long enough to be in her face.

If you enjoyed this series and would like to buy me a coffee, here's my Ko-Fi link 💐

🍰

Chapter One - For your trouble

Chapter Two - No big deal

Chapter Three - Call me Bucky

Chapter Four - You’re both idiots

Chapter Five - No Witnesses

Chapter Six - You already know

Chapter Seven - First time for everything

Chapter Eight - She said Stop

Chapter Nine - Follow Me

Chapter Ten - Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?

Chapter Eleven - Just for Me

Chapter Twelve - It’s beautiful, just like the rest of you

Chapter Thirteen - You're finally awake

Chapter Fourteen - A new development

Chapter Fifteen - I’m done with you

Chapter Sixteen - Friends?

Chapter Seventeen - We’re going on a little ride

Chapter Eighteen - Weakness

Chapter Nineteen - Best of luck

Chapter Twenty - Of course I did

Chapter Twenty-One - I’m here, Doll

Chapter Twenty-Two - That was a long time ago

Chapter Twenty-Three - Hell if I know

Chapter Twenty-Four - Yeah, idiot

Chapter Twenty-Five - Epilogue

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #Sweet and sour fic

672 notes · View notes

its-luna-noel · 3 months ago

Text

bellesa house

episode 1, satoru & you (sensual)

"Welcome to Bellesa House, where we let performers tell us who they want to have sex with and why." pornstar!jjk men x pornstar!reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, pornstar!au, older reader & younger gojo (like mid-30s and mid-20s respectively), based on bellesa house, sensuality, sensual porn

word count: 2.8k next: episode 2, suguru & you

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hi there, here's another fic idea i just couldn't shake, based on bellesa house, a porn project w/ the above description. most scenes are split into one of three categories: sensual, passionate, or rough; so, each chapter will also be labeled as such! (if you're a porn person and haven't checked out bellesa, this is my psa). next up is geto:) thanks for reading!

You’re propped up in a bed with half a dozen pillows, dressed in blue lacy lingerie, staring down a camera on a tripod.

It’s something you’ve done hundreds of times.

You give the camera your performer name, offering a coy little smile that’s become your signature. You’ve been doing porn for years now, and when the production team came to you to pilot a new concept – to play house with another performer of your choosing – you, of course, chose Satoru Gojo.

A young buck on the scene, he’s only been in a couple dozen videos total, but he’s already the new heartthrob at the studio, with his big, charming smile and pretty blue eyes. You’ve heard he’s good, too, fantastic on camera and a sweetheart off it.

Satoru chose you because he thinks you’re hot.

Hey, he’s always had a thing for older women, and he knows you’re not that much older than him, but it still makes him hard to think of what you could do with all that experience. It also feels good to know you want to fuck him too as he climbs into the bed for his own interview.

“So,” begins the director, smiling past the camera to the young rising star on the bed, “how are you feeling, knowing the first time you meet your co-star will be here on camera?”

Satoru shrugs his muscular shoulders, smiling a little. “It’s not that different from what I usually do; most of the time we meet on set and an hour later we’re in the middle of a scene. So, I’m not too uncomfortable with it.”

“How does it feel to be working with an industry favorite?”

He chuckles, then, his smile growing as he lowers his eyes, playing almost bashful. “That’s a little more intimidating, I guess. Obviously I’ve seen her work; I just hope I can live up to the great stuff she puts out.”

The video cuts to your interview, to your teasing smile at the camera as you lean back casually against the pillows, looking decadent in your lingerie. The director speaks again from behind the camera, “So, when we bring him in here, do you think you guys will talk, will you get straight to it…?”

You hum thoughtfully, that same smile still curling your lips as you tilt your head. “The young ones are always so eager to get started and skip the awkward introductions, so I’m guessing we’ll just dive in. But who knows! Maybe he’ll surprise me.”

“Alright, well, the next time that door opens, he’ll be coming in, and you guys can do whatever you want!” Your director gives you a supportive thumbs up from behind the camera; she trusts you to make whatever you do together good. You’ve never let her down before. Then, “Action!”

The sleek white door swings open, and there stands Satoru, feigning a casual air with his hands in the pockets of his joggers. He’s got that smile on his face, and you can’t help but return the expression as you wave him in encouragingly. “Hi!” you greet enthusiastically, propping yourself up on your knees on the bed.

Your comforting air seems to put him a little more at ease; he walks in, easing himself onto the edge of the bed beside you. His pretty blue eyes take in the set of lingerie you’re wearing – something that matches those eyes. You look amazing, so fucking sexy he’s already growing hard at the sight of you. Then he looks back up at your face, finding you still smiling, and he smiles back before leaning in slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says softly, and you both giggle a little, clearly letting your nerves run a little higher now that you’re meeting each other for the first time.

You lean in, too, still laughing softly, until your nose brushes his. “Nice to meet you, too,” you whisper, and then you part your lips, inviting him to meet you halfway.

He does, his lips pushing against yours, already hard and desperate. You can tell he’s still a little nervous, diving right in instead of pacing himself for the camera, and so you put a gentle hand on the side of his face, fingers stroking the strong line of his jaw. You’re trying not to intimidate him, but that’s hard when you have over a thousand videos under your belt and he has maybe 20. He feels your touch and understands, wants to follow your lead, so he tries to shake himself and slow down.

It’s just a scene, doesn’t matter that she’s the sexiest and most experienced co-star he’s ever had.

His lips slow against yours, now taking the time to taste your mouth, your minty fresh breath and the berry chapstick you have on. Your tongue is phenomenal, slipping against his with practiced ease as you lick into his mouth, and he licks right back with the vitality and enthusiasm of a young performer.

You’ve almost forgotten what that spark feels like. A similar one, after years of being dormant, flares to like deep in your belly.

You kiss for a couple minutes before you let your hand wander from the side of his face, down his neck, to his torso. His chest and belly are muscular under his t-shirt, and you can feel every subtle tightening of those muscles while you touch him. His hands follow, coming to rest on your bare arms, bringing you closer to his body. You arch your back, curving into his chest while he continues to kiss you, and then you move your touch from his belly down to the hard bulge in the front of his sweatpants.

You can tell by feel that he’s one of the bigger men you’ve worked with.

He lets you touch him unhindered for a few moments before he brings his own fingers down to stroke between your thighs, feeling a spreading wetness on the thin fabric of your panties. You both focus on heavy petting for a while, getting each other aroused while your mouths continue moving against each other.

You have to hand it to him; he’s good at what he does.

Once you’re finally wet and feeling ready to take the scene further, you gently push him backwards onto the bed, crawling over him until you’re straddling his hips. You pull away from the kiss enough to smile down at him, and he smiles back, seeming dazzled by you as you dip your fingers into the elastic waistband of his joggers. You pull those down first, and he helps you get them free of his ankles before you toss the fabric aside onto the floor.

You can see the imprint of his dick against his boxers, and now you’re pretty sure he’s one of the biggest you’ve seen. It’s a pleasant surprise; no wonder he’s a rising star on the scene.

You lean forward, pressing your cheek to his thigh, nuzzling playfully and grinning up at him. “You ready?” you ask, for his benefit, knowing it’ll be edited out in post.

He chuckles quietly, and your tummy flutters at the sound; he’s got a good laugh, too. He brushes your hair into one hand, gently guiding your mouth towards the straining bulge of his cock. “Ready,” he confirms.

You grip the waistband of his tight, Calvin Klein boxer briefs and slowly, achingly, pull them down his legs.

You let yourself take a good look as you toss aside the fabric, assessing how much work you’ll have to put in; a lot, is the answer. He’s massive, long and pink and beautiful. Mouthwatering. You’re practically drooling as you settle between his legs and, glancing up at him through your lashes, let your tongue slip out from between your lips and take a taste.

He lets out a soft sigh, eyes watching your every move as you start licking his tip, short little laps that drive him crazy. His hand tightens in your hair, just enough to signal to you that he’s ready.

Or, he thought he was.

When you lean in and take him in the hot, wet cavern of your mouth, he’s already seeing starts at how fucking good your tongue feels swirling around his head. You bring your hands up and grip the base of his cock, squeezing lightly, before you take him a little deeper.

Satoru can’t hold back moans so whiny it’s almost pathetic; you’re sucking him off so well, both hands stroking his length slowly as your mouth bobs over his blushing tip, cheeks hollowed like you want to suck him dry. Then you move your hands and dive down until he’s shoved as far down your throat as you can take, staying there for a moment as your throat closes down around him on every side. His head drops back to the pillows as he lets out another whine, and then you pull back, hands coming back to his base as you suck the tip.

It feels so fucking good that he’s scared he’s gonna cum already.

So he pulls you off of him, guiding you down onto your belly on the bed. “Arch for me,” he murmurs in your ear, and you do, back arched so beautifully that he can’t wait to watch the tape on his own time and screenshot this pose for him to keep. He grabs the back of his shirt and yanks it off, leaving his muscular body on display for the cameras as he pushes your lacy blue panties to the side, arousal already drenching the thin fabric and sticking it to your pussy.

He hums in delight at the sight of your gorgeous folds, and he leans in, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your lower lips, like he’s making out with your cunt from behind. You let out a moan into the mattress, arching further to force your hips back into his face. He grins against you before grabbing the flesh of your hips, holding you in place while he pushes deeper, past your outer folds to lick a line of heat from your clit to the lower corner of your pussy. Then he moves his mouth back to your clit, his nose bumping against the wet entrance to your cunt while his tongue laps greedily at it. His hands move down to grab the fat of your ass, thumbs spreading you apart to expose you more to his mouth and eyes while he eats you out from the back.

You’re making such delicious noises, not just for the camera, but because his mouth is just that good. He hums again, this time with your clit against his tongue, before he takes the swollen bundle between his lips and sucks softly. Your hips jolt against his face, and he lets go with a lewd pop, before flicking his tongue over your clit again, taking his time to work you up towards your orgasm.

“Oh my god…” you breathe, lashes fluttering as your eyes close to the ecstasy. “Feels so good…”

“Yeah?” he mumbles into your cunt, eyes closed, too, as he tastes how fucking sweet you are. “Want something to cum on?”

You moan at his words, hips bucking backwards again, like you’re trying to chase down your high… He pulls away before you can get there, grinning cheekily when you whimper. “Aww,” he croons, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before grabbing your hips and rolling you over onto your back, “it’s okay. I’ll make you cum; I promise.”

“You better,” you tease back, reaching up to slide the straps of your bodysuit off your shoulders and down your arms, pooling the lace around your waist, “or I’ll be very disappointed in you.”

He takes the fabric the rest of the way off, still grinning as he looks at your perfect body, one he’s seen in dozens of videos with his hand wrapped around his own cock, making himself cum to the sound of your moans. It’s a dream come true to be filming with you, and he lets himself remember that fact before he leans over you, reaching down to align himself with your dripping, fluttering entrance. He glances into your eyes for a moment, checking that you’re alright, and the look in your eyes is such a clear affirmative that he can’t hold back anymore.

He pushes inside you slowly, both of you letting out soft, broken moans in unison as he sheaths himself in you.

Then, once he’s fully seated inside you, your cunt squeezing around him, so wet and warm and fucking perfect, he pulls back and starts to fuck you slowly, sensually.

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his hips, and your heels press into his ass with every thrust, holding him that much closer, that much deeper. He groans, lips parted as he pants softly, his hips rocking in smooth, fluid motions.

Your lips are parted, too, as you reach down to rub your clit with the pads of your fingers, drawing aching circles– Satoru bumps your hand away and takes over for you. “Let me,” he pants, watching your reaction as your head falls back against the pillows with another moan. He groans at the sight and leans in, placing soft, adoring kisses to the column of your throat, to the edge of your jaw, to the curve of your cheek… All the while rubbing those perfect circles on your clit.

Your pussy is starting to clench around him. “Oh my god,” you whine, throwing your head back, and the performance isn’t even for the cameras anymore, it’s for him, to let him know how good he’s making you feel. Every thrust puts him right at your g-spot, and his fingers have the perfect pressure on your clit, a catastrophic combination of sensations that’s quickly sending you towards the edge. “Please don’t stop.”

He keeps kissing towards the corner of your mouth. “Cum for me,” he says, and then he presses his lips to yours, claiming your tongue with his as he fucks you through your orgasm. You moan and whine into the kiss, your cunt clenching and spasming around his cock, and he groans against your mouth at the feeling of you sucking him even further inside you.

Fuck, he’s not gonna last like this.

So he rolls you over onto your tummy again, even though your legs are still weak and shaky from your climax, and presses you down into the mattress with gentle hands. He spreads your legs for you, angling your hips right where he wants you, and then he leans over your body, palms planted firmly on either side of your shoulders to hold his weight above you before he starts rocking back into your perfect fucking pussy.

His shoulders are heaving with the effort to hold back, to not cum after two seconds like this, but his eyes are trained on how your ass conforms to the shape of his hips with every thrust, and the curve of your back looks like the perfect bullseye for his cum–

He groans, pulling out before he can accidentally empty himself inside you. Then he strokes himself, his hand pumping over the wet, sensitive head of his cock as he stares at your fluttering pussy, wishing he could’ve cum there– maybe next time– With a choking sound and breathless moans, he watches pearly ropes of his seed shoot out over the smooth skin of your back.

When he catches his breath, he can’t help but pull up short. Wait, next time??

Once you’re showered and dressed in street clothes again, walking out of the studio with your bag over your shoulder, you hear a familiar voice behind you. “Hey! One sec.”

You turn, a smile already on your face as you recognize Satoru’s voice. His hair is still wet from his shower, too, hanging damp in front of his shining eyes. “Hey,” you respond, smiling as he walks over. “Great job today. You’ve got a great career ahead of you, you know.”

“I know,” he says, not arrogantly, just as a fact. But he doesn’t want to talk about that now. He looks a little nervous as he shifts from one foot to the other. “I just wanted to say thanks for…choosing me to work with you today. I had a lot of fun.”

Your smile spreads a little wider. “Me, too,” you tell him, and then you turn your back, because you’re already late for dinner with your friends. “See you around!”

“Wait!” he calls again, and you stop, surprised. You turn and blink up at him.

“Uh, this might sound dumb…but can I get your number?”

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next: suguru & you

#banners by cafekitsune #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #fanfiction

91 notes · View notes

itsnotgray · 1 year ago

Text

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”

493 notes · View notes

jessilynallendilla · 6 months ago

Text

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

107 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 2 months ago

Note

do you have any wips w/ tim/cassie/bart/kon ??

Nice to meet you, friend, I can tell you're new around here, haha. 💙💙

These are mostly Kon-slanted in one way or another, given he's my fave blorbo, though he's not the POV character in all of them and in a couple of them he is only TECHNICALLY an involved on-screen character, hah.

a pocketful of Kons (( chrono || non-chrono || AO3 )) - A Pocket soulmates AU where Tim, Cassie, and Bart all wake up to their own tiny "Superman", which seems pretty weird, given that Superman is, like, super-old? And also super-DEAD. Like, he's definitely super, super dead.

Cassie gets a Pocket (or three) (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Another Pocket soulmates AU. Cassie wakes up after the first campout with YJ98 to find out she's got some tiny pocket-sized soulmates and has a crisis about it. ( Technically a prequel to Damian gets a Pocket, which itself includes Tim and HIS tiny pocket-sized soulmates in a guest-star role, but just in the sense that it's another entry in a series about different people in the same AU meeting their Pockets; there's not a strongly-linked narrative/plot going between them. )

it's not fine anymore (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Tim, Cassie, and Bart decide it is OBVIOUSLY time for the Core Four to all start dating each other and Kon and his internalized acephobia/Cadmus-designed ED have a whole-ass emotional crisis about it.

YJ accidental baby acquisition (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Cassie, Tim, and Bart all get speed-cloned into one metaweapon built to take out intruders in a dubiously-ethical lab they're investigating. Kon decides to throw a wrench in that and interrupts the process, and now there is a four year-old Greek demigod with Speed Force access and a Bat-brain that they have to explain to the Justice League. Mazel tov!

nsfw:

come on barbie let's go party (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Kon gets magically shrunk down to action figure-size for a day or so and they're all weird and horny about it. That's it, that's the fic. [ nsfw ]

the Core Four gangs up on Kon's objectification kink (( chrono || non-chrono )) - The Core Four accidentally trips over a new kink of Kon's and REALLY leans into it in, like, borderline-gangbang fashion. [ nsfw ]

honorable mentions, as being YJ polyam with the whole YJ98 team:

YJ packs up and gets pupped (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Omegaverse fic where Kon presents his secondary gender while stray and is emotionally unwell about it but DEFINITELY totally FINE handling it on his own, DEFINITELY, he is SO FINE ABOUT THIS, which ( eventually ) features the OG six in a polyam situation. Kon-centric.

gender? I hardly know her! (( chrono || non-chrono )) - This is actually I think kinda all over the place in its tag, ngl, so not really in proper chrono/all-together order, but neither is its file in my WIP folder so that's just authenticity, baby!! It's literally just "Young Justice is sliding into a situationship and Kon finds out that Kryptonians can cisswap based on the physical sex of the prospective partner that they're currently most attracted to", and also Slobo being incredibly shameless and a little bit of Tim's "I really thought I was straight and I don't know what Kon turning into a girl over me means for that" sexuality crisis. OG six plus Anita and Slobo polym. [ nsfw ]

#anonymous #rintalk

48 notes · View notes

dem-obscure-imagines · 1 year ago

Text

You're So Timeless | Vol. 1

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. Part 2 linked HERE and also at the end of the post.

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 End

Time.

It was a fickle thing. In the blink of an eye, a year had passed. A mere twelve months earlier, you had been living a different life. The only life you had been responsible for was your own. And your plants, but…they never seemed to last that long under your care. Now, everything was different.

It was the day before your birthday. Your twenty-fifth birthday, which, in the world you lived in, meant that tomorrow, a name would appear on your wrist, the name of your soulmate. It had been stressing you out all day, the weight of tomorrow and everything it meant.

It was late, and you were exhausted from a day of overthinking. The longer you stayed up, the longer you delayed the inevitable reveal, and thinking about it too much made you nervous, so you just decided to get to sleep sooner than later.

It was once you were just about to climb into bed that there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open!” You called. The door opened slowly, revealing Steve, who was leaning in your doorway, arms crossed, that pensive look in his blue eyes. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi.” He chuckled. He seemed nervous, although you weren’t sure why.

“Everything alright, Steve?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I actually came in here to check on you. Wanda said you were…quiet.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You hugged your arms around your frame and bit your lip, looking up at the super soldier standing in front of you. “Just…I don’t know. I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow for my entire life, but…now that it’s here, I’m so scared.”

“Hey, come here.” He said, pulling you to him, strong arms wrapped around you, as if he could protect you from the future itself.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“(Y/N), whoever they are, they are incredibly, incredibly lucky. You don’t need to worry about anything. It’ll all work out. It always does.” He said it like he was certain. Like somehow he knew what would happen in the morning when suddenly your life was turned on its head and you had to venture out to find your other half.

Since you’d met him, Steve wore a leather band around his wrist, covering his soulmate’s name. You’d figured he must have met them in the forties and…maybe they hadn’t made it long enough to see him come out of the ice. But you didn’t ask about it. You never dared to put that question into words. He’d been through enough heartbreak already.

“What if they don’t like me…?”

He scoffed, holding you tighter. “That’s impossible. They’re going to love you. So much. I promise.”

“And…and we’ll still be f-friends?”

Steve pulled away, looking down at you, a hand very carefully touching your cheek. “Of course we will still be friends. Nothing is ever going to change that. I promise.”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Good. Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

He gently wiped the tear away, the pad of his thumb warm. Once he was sure you were okay, he let go, looking at you with that knowing sparkle in his eye once more. He took a little extra time to look at the shirt you were wearing, the Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You agreed.

“And happy birthday, (Y/N).”

We’ll Meet Again

“Ma’am? Are you alright? Ma’am?” The voice sounded far away. You were pretty sure you were still dreaming. You opened your eyes slowly and immediately became aware of the pounding pain in your head.

“Ow, oh my God.” You reached up and felt there, but it didn’t feel like you were bleeding or anything.

“Ma’am?”

You froze for a second, slowly looking up at the figure standing above you, confusion written all over his familiar features. It took you a long moment to put the pieces together. You were on a porch somewhere in what appeared to be New York, but it was…different. A lot different than the parts of the city you knew. Alright, it had to be a dream.

You looked up at the man standing above you and did a double-take. But no, it was him. It was a tiny, frail version of Steve. Your eyebrows furrowed and you sat up slowly, staring at him for a long moment before whispering, “Steve?”

His mouth opened and then shut again and he made a face of confusion, like he was trying to place where he knew you from, but he didn’t know you yet, and wouldn’t know you for several more years, to say the least. “Do I know you?”

“It’s complicated.” You exhaled. “Can we go inside? You’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dumbfounded, Steve nodded and you stood up from the porch, only to find that he was at your eye level when you did. Weird. He led you into the small apartment and you looked around. It was quaint. There was an easel in the corner of the room and…Bucky Barnes sitting on the couch? You stared at him for a good, long moment, a shiver running down your spine.

“Who’s the dame?” He read your shirt. “What is Star…Wars…?”

“About to find that out myself.” He chuckled, leading you into the living room. “Buck, could you give us a minute?”

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” Bucky got up and walked to the other half of their tiny two-bedroom.

You sat down on the couch and so did he. The silence was thick. You thought for several moments. You weren’t quite sure how you had ended up in the 1940s. You looked down at your hands and it was then that your gaze finally landed on the writing on your wrist. And then everything made sense.

“What’s the date today?”

“It’s July 4th, why?”

“July 4th…” You whispered. “What, 1943?”

You could see the wheels turning behind his eyes before he replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Well, happy birthday, first of all. And second of all…” You held up your wrist so he could read it. Steve’s eyes went wide and he stared at the three words written neatly on your skin in his own handwriting.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“You’re my…” He looked at you for a long time, his eyes wide. He hastily undid the cuff around his wrist and held it out to you, your own name written there. He ran a finger across the letters, as if to prove they were really there.

“I’m your soulmate.” You said certainly.

It hit you like a truck, then. The weird look on your Steve’s face, the way he was so certain that everything would work out. It was because he had already lived through this. And that meant that in all the time he’d known you, he’d been hiding his mark not because his soulmate had died, but instead because you were his soulmate and you didn’t know it yet.

Your entire year of friendship, of memories, of roadtrips and missions and movie marathons…he had known the whole time. And that look in his eyes wasn’t just his protective side coming out. It was love. It had been love the whole time.

Oh.

Steve exhaled a long, shaking breath, really taking you in. Once again, he had a million stars in his eyes. He let out a whispered, “Wow,” as tears began to form.

You came back down to earth. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, sniffling as a tear ran down his cheek. “I’ve just, I’ve got a lot of…health problems, so I wasn’t sure if I’d ever…meet you. And you’re here and you’re great and I just…I’m sorry.”

That brought tears to your eyes. “Oh, Steve…” You pulled him into your arms and he didn’t hesitate to surrender to your embrace, his arms wrapping tight around you and holding you close, head nestled into the crook of your neck. “Just breathe. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Always.

He took your advice, doing his best to avoid an asthma attack on what was shaping up to be the best day of his life. Once he finally caught his breath, he pulled away to look at your face again. “I have to ask…How did you know?”

“I don’t know if you can tell from these clothes,” you motioned down to the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing, “but I’m not from around here, exactly.”

“I kind of thought so, but I didn’t want to be rude.” He smiled softly. “Um, where are you from, then?”

“I’m from the future. Like…a while from now. It’s hard to explain why or how, and I’m not really sure how I got here, to be honest, but I’m glad I am.” You sighed, thumb grazing his cheek, wiping away his tears. He crooned at your touch. “I don’t know how long we have before I have to go back.”

“Am I there? Where you’re from?”

“You are. It’s complicated. We’re really good friends and…when I get back, I’m sure we’ll probably be even more than that.” You smiled, shaking your head. “I can’t believe I didn’t put the pieces together sooner.”

“(Y/N)?” Steve asked, trying out your name for the first time.

“Yeah?”

“Let me take you out today, show you a good time here before you have to go back.” He took your hand and carefully laced his fingers through your own, testing the weight of it, the feel of it.

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Not to eavesdrop, lovebirds — congratulations, by the way — but if you’re going to take her out, we’re going to need to find her some clothes that aren’t so…‘not from around here.’” Bucky leaned in the doorway.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call one of my girls and we’ll get her squared away. Sit tight.”

“Thanks, Bucky.” You said, chuckling when his eyes widened after you addressed him by name. “I know you, too. From the, uh, future.”

“Weird…” Bucky decided.

“Long story?” Steve asked, studying the look on your face.

“Very.” You agreed. After staring at him for another long moment, you pulled him back into your arms again, exhaling a long breath before whispering, “Steve, I’m so glad it’s you…”

***

“Wow.” You stared at yourself in the mirror, studying the way Bucky’s, ahem, lady friend, had curled your hair, done your makeup. You did a little twirl and relished in the way the skirt of your dress twirled. It was navy blue, short ruffled sleeves with a flared skirt and buttons down the front. “I think it suits me.”

“I agree. Blue is a good color on you.” Steve was sitting in a chair at the edge of the room, absolutely enamored as he watched you. “Although, I’m sure they’re all good colors on you, doll.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.” He stood up and walked to you, slipping one of his hands into each of yours and staring into your eyes, looking at the way you looked standing next to him in his reflection. His soulmate. The kind of girl people write poems about. “You look great.”

“I don’t look out of place?”

“No one is gonna think you’re a time traveler. Well, unless you tell them.” Bucky said. “Maybe don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it.” You chuckled and gave Steve’s hands a squeeze. “Where to first, soulmate?”

His cheeks reddened as soon as you said the word. “Well, I was thinking we could go to my favorite little diner down the street to grab something for lunch, and then maybe we could take a walk through the park, catch a movie, and then go out for drinks tonight?”

“What, you aren’t gonna take her dancing?” Bucky teased, ruffling Steve’s hair under a large hand. “Show the girl a good time?”

“I would if I didn’t have two left feet.” Steve chuckled, a sheepish smile on his face. He looked at you, waiting for some kind of response. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a great time, Steve.”

He smiled. “Good.”

The two of you left the apartment not long after that, and walked side by side towards the diner. Your hands were swinging in the space between you and your hand brushed Steve’s once, twice, a third time, and then you slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers.

You caught him smile out of the corner of your eye. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” He grinned and chuckled to himself. “You can hold my hand as much as you want, doll.”

When the two of you finally got to the diner, a little bell rang over your heads and you got seated at a booth by the window. The two of you ordered drinks and you skimmed the menu while you waited.

“So, tell me about yourself.” You said, resting your chin against your fist and looking over at Steve. You studied the way his blue, blue eyes flicked up to your own and the blush that covered his cheeks shortly thereafter.

“You probably know a lot of it already.” He chuckled. “Unless we don’t talk a lot?”

“We talk quite a bit, but I still want to know about this you. Here and now.”

“I like art. Drawing and painting and stuff.” He said. “I haven’t had time to do much lately, but I’d like to get back into it.”

“See, that I didn’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were into art.”

“I could, uh, show you sometime.” He offered.

“I’d like that.” You smiled. “What else?”

“I like to read. I like going to Dodgers games with Bucky. One time he took me to Coney Island. I don’t like rollercoasters, but I liked playing the games. He wasted three whole dollars trying to win a teddy bear for a redhead named Dot.”

“Three whole dollars…” You chuckled. “Well you don’t have to worry about the rollercoasters too much, I can’t go upside down without throwing up.”

“That makes two of us. Enough about me, tell me about you.” Steve nudged, his hand slowly moving towards yours. “How do we know each other? When did we meet?”

“We’re…coworkers, I guess you could say. We met about a year back and now we live in the same building? I’m sorry for being so vague, I just—”

“Don’t want to give it away, yeah, I get it.” He nodded, understandingly.

“You took me under your wing as soon as I moved in and really made me feel welcome. You’re the one that brought me onto the team, actually.” You took a sip of your drink. “We’ve been through a lot together already, and I’m sure it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Mmm…” Steve nodded. “I know I just met you, but I’m really glad you and I are close. Well, will be close.” He paused before chuckling and shaking his head. “There’s still some little voice in the back of my head telling me all of this is just some amazing dream.”

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” You chuckled, tucking a piece of curled hair back behind your ear. “I’ve…I’ve had a crush on you forever, Steve. I can’t believe this is happening.”

He stared at you, almost dumbfounded. “O-on me?”

“Yeah.” You agreed. You’d forgotten, you supposed, that Steve had had this phase, the self-depreciation, the insecurity. Your Steve, when complimented, was shy, sure, but you knew he understood what people were talking about. This Steve didn’t see it that way. Not yet. But it would be your job to use your one day with him to change that, to make your soulmate see that he was worthy of love, even self-love. “Yeah, of course on you, Steve. I can’t believe I get to have you.”

His cheeks reddened and he finally took the leap, taking your hand across the table, thumb grazing your knuckles with care. His blue eyes sparkled. “Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about you.”

***

Once the two of you were finished up at the diner, you took a walk through the park. It was gorgeous out, a bright, sunny, warm summer afternoon. Several couples were strolling down the paths, hand in hand, and you were one of them, your hand held tight in Steve’s, his thumb gently stroking the back of yours.

You went to the theater and caught a movie together. Luckily enough, they were showing the Wizard of Oz. Your current situation had you feeling like Dorothy in more ways than one. The movie had only come out four years earlier, which was definitely strange. Not to mention the fact that the tickets were only twenty-five cents, the popcorn a mere ten cents.

And then, once the movie was over and the sun was setting, you went to a bar, where Steve ordered each of you a drink. You took a sip of yours, something sweet, and smiled at him across the table.

“So, how’s your day been, birthday boy?” You asked coyly.

“The best I’ve had so far,” he replied, his eyes sparkling. The sparkle faded, however, when his expression grew somber. He hesitated, but then asked, “Okay, I have to know…How long do I have to wait to see you again?”

You exhaled a long sigh, biting your lip. If you told him the truth, he might ask questions you couldn’t tell him the answers to. And besides, the real answer would require some math. You didn’t know the specifics.

“I’ll be honest, Steve, it’s…it’s a pretty long time.” You thought for a long moment before continuing, “I…I can’t really tell you why. It’s all really complicated, and if I tell you too much, it might not happen the way it’s supposed to.”

“Oh…” Steve nodded and took a sip of his drink. Once he set down the glass, he reached across the table and took your hand. “Well, however long it is,” he looked straight into your eyes and a chill ran down your spine, “It’ll be worth it. Every second. I promise.”

You could have cried. “I hope so.”

“There you two are! I was wondering which bar you’d wandered into!” Bucky was, apparently, already slightly intoxicated as he approached you and Steve with a date of his own. “How was your day on the town, lovebirds?”

“Spectacular.” You replied. “I wish there was more time to soak it in.”

“New York sure is something, huh?” Bucky’s date asked, giggling innocently. If only she knew the half of it.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You guys wanna sit with us?” Steve asked.

“If you don’t mind too much, punk.” Bucky grinned.

Steve got up and switched sides of the booth so he was sitting next to you instead of across from you. You slid your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He smiled, chuckling softly to himself as he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Did you give the lady her dance, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirking.

“Not yet.” Steve chuckled. “We’ll see. The asthma makes it a bit difficult sometimes.”

“Never seems to stop you from getting into fights.” Bucky muttered, causing Steve’s cheeks to flush.

“Just wait until the band plays something slow,” Bucky’s date pointed out.

“There you go!” Bucky raised his glass to his lips. “Great idea, Maggie.”

“Glad to be of service.”

And so, the four of you chatted until the band started to play something sweet and slow. Steve looked at you for approval and you nodded. He led you out onto the floor with the other couples.

Steve blushed, flustered, and he looked at you before saying, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“It’s easy.” You promised, guiding one of his hands to your waist and holding the other. “That’s it. And then we just move to the music. You can twirl me around if you feel so inclined.”

“Alright.” He chuckled, swaying in time with you. “Hey, uh, (Y/N), I need you to know…I had a really, really great time today. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a soulmate and I’m so excited to spend the rest of my life with you someday, however far away that someday is.”

“I’m glad I met your expectations.” You smiled, tugging him a bit closer.

“No, you exceeded them. You’re better than anything I could have imagined. I’m so lucky.” He paused, and his expression fell a little. “I know I’m a lot. I have a lot of problems and they might complicate things sometimes, but…”

“Steve, you’re perfect.” You shook your head and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “The universe gave you to me for a reason and I’m so, so glad it did. You’re amazing. I can’t think of anyone better to spend the rest of my life with.”

He was quiet for a moment before whispering, “Can I please kiss you, doll?”

You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, the music swelling around you as you guided his hands to your waist, cupping his cheeks to hold him close to you. When the moment had passed, you rested your nose against his, meeting his eyes and inhaling his scent, committing this version of him to memory before he was reduced to just that, a memory.

“Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.”

You spent the rest of the night together. Twirling across the dancefloor, talking, soaking each other in. But when you reached the front porch of the townhouse, Steve looked back down the steps to find you’d disappeared, leaving him with nothing but the memory of your lips, your laugh, your smile.

“You gonna be alright?” Bucky asked, a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” He replied, words swallowed up by the sounds of the night. “Just give me a minute, pal.”

Bucky nodded, solemn. “Take all the time you need.”

The Beginning

Steve remembered the day you’d met—for the second time, though he didn’t realize it right away—like it was tattooed on his brain. It was a few years after he’d come out of the ice and he had taken Tony’s advice to get out more, which had led him to the local mall.

It had been an uneventful day. He strolled around the perimeter, taking in the storefronts, studying the fashion, browsing the menu of a pretzel place, reading the posters on the exterior of the movie theater, the things that were coming out in the coming months. Nothing interested him in particular. He didn’t really care for war movies.

After a few quiet hours, his peaceful walk was interrupted by screams, people running away at top speed, which, of course, caused him to spring into action, assessing the situation. He ran towards the source of the chaos, scanning, scanning, until his eyes landed on the attacker, a guy with a flamethrower, aimed at a teenage theater employee. Steve hurdled over a trash can, moving people out of the way, directing them to safety and trying to put himself between himself and the mallgoers, but before he could, you did, hands out in front of you and what seemed to be an invisible shield poised there, redirecting the flames and protecting the movie theater employee that had nearly been caught in the crossfire.

A quick flick of your wrist knocked the attacker’s gun out of his hands and it slid across the floor to Steve’s feet. He chucked it into the fountain without a second thought, where it fizzled pathetically. The guy lunged at you with heavy metal gauntlets, and you dodged the first swing but caught the second in the face, falling backwards. When you landed, however ungracefully, you sent a blast of energy at the guy, knocking him over a plant and sprawling onto the tile floor.

While the guy was on the ground, Steve tackled him, wrenching the gauntlets off of his hands and chucking them away, too. Soon, the police arrived, apprehending the guy while mall security comforted the distressed mall patrons, ushering them to safety and medical attention.

You sat on a bench after, breathing heavy, a cut on your forehead. Steve walked over, interested in this superpowered rescuer, someone who wasn’t yet on the Avengers’ radar, but would most definitely be on the news the next day if the sheer amount of phone footage recorded was any indication.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad everyone is okay.” You told him, meeting his eyes.

He finally got a good look at you and froze, looking bewildered. A deer in headlights. “You’re…”

There you are, doll. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

It was you. Of course it was you. Since the moment he’d been unfrozen, he’d been looking for you. His soulmate. The girl from the future that popped in on his twenty-fifth birthday, turned his whole life on its head, and then left without warning, hours after their first kiss. Back when he was five-foot-nothing with asthma and more medical conditions than he could even remember.

Back before he was anything.

And you’d loved him anyway. You’d given him the day of a lifetime and hope for not only a future, but for love. That someone could love him for him despite it all.

“I know.” You knew? “I…I don’t know what it is or…why I can do it. I’ve been like this since college.”

Your powers, you meant. You thought he was talking about your powers and not your name, which was burning a hole into his wrist beneath the thick leather band keeping it hidden.

“Right. Well, it’s…” He sighed, gathering his words, hiding the elation and pain behind a warm smile. “It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t have my shield on me.”

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

“You, uh…have a cut. On your forehead.”

“Oh, do I?” You reached up and found it with your fingers and they came away a bit bloody. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He offered you his hand and you took it, letting him lead you over to the counter of the theater. “Hi, do you have a first aid kit we could borrow?”

“Yeah, of course.” The girl at the counter said, rushing to grab it.

Steve patched you up with gentle hands, off in a corner on your own, in the room the theater used for birthday parties. Staring up at him, you finally realized the obvious. This was Captain America. And he was using a careful finger to spread a triple antibiotic ointment on your cut.

Play it cool, (Y/N).

“Do you do this often? The hero thing?” Steve asked, trying to sound somewhat indifferent. He couldn’t be, though. Not entirely. Not when it came to you.

“No.” You shrugged. “Haven’t had much opportunity, thankfully. I mean…I’d like to, I just didn’t know how to…get into it, I guess. Any email I sent to Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever would end up on a slush pile.”

“Well, I’ve got some connections. If you’re seriously considering it. I can’t say I recommend it, but…Obviously you’ve got that protective instinct and you seem to work well under pressure.”

“I don’t know about that. My heart is about to leap out of my chest.” You admitted, laughing as he carefully laid a Bandaid over the cut, closing the kit.

“That makes two of us.”

“Well, if you think I’m really cut out for it…I’d love to help.”

***

It was three days later that Nick Fury got in touch with you. You thought it was a scam call at first, but no one else would possibly have the info about you that he did. That was S.H.I.E.L.D. for you, you supposed.

You packed up your apartment, your boxes of books, your old journals, your clothes and makeup, your life, and hopped in the jet that was waiting for you at the meeting place. Inside was a pilot with flaming red hair, Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. It was hard not to get a little starstruck.

She helped you load your things into the jet, let you settle into the copilot seat, and then you took off, soaring away from your old life and towards your new one, the mysterious, magnificent facility tucked into upstate New York, that iconic A emblazoned on the front of the building.

“Steve said you’re telekinetic. That’s cool.” She complimented with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve got force-field stuff. I don’t know what else, exactly.”

“Oh, we’ll figure all that out. Banner already has a list of tests he wants to run. Nothing too intense. I made him promise not to give you the lab rat treatment too soon.”

“Reassuring.” You chuckled.

“Wanda’s been decorating your room all day. It’s not often we get new blood.”

“I appreciate it. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

“They can’t wait to meet you.”

The jet landed a little under an hour later and Natasha helped you haul boxes towards the front door, where Steve was waiting. It was like time slowed, that look in his eyes, glistening little stars.

“Come on, Rogers, these boxes aren’t going to move themselves.” Nat waved him over, snapping both of you out of your trance.

“Right, right.” He jogged over. “Is there anything heavy?”

“That one.” You pointed. “It’s got my candles in it.”

“On it.”

You grabbed a few tote bags, slinging your computer bag over your shoulder. A few others came out to help, Clint and Wanda namely, the latter of whom used her shimmering red powers to speed the process along. Were you any more confident in your own powers, you would do the same, but you hadn’t had much opportunity to use them yet, and you didn’t want to drop anything fragile on your first day.

You started unpacking the essentials, your smart speaker, your laptop, some books and your favorite candle. You put some clothes in the dresser, hung some up in the large sliding closet in the wall. Upon further examination, you had your own bathroom, too, which was nice. There was a wall tapestry with sunflowers on it, and several little knickknacks. Wanda’s loving touch.

Someone cleared their throat and you turned to find Steve there, arms crossed, leaning in the doorway.

“Hi there, um, just checking in. Figured you might want a tour when you got settled in. No rush, of course.”

“I would love a tour. I can already tell I’m gonna get lost in this place.”

He grinned. “Not on my watch. Come on. I’ll show you around.”

Steve walked with you through the office spaces, the computer labs, Bruce’s lab, Tony’s. Tony was in the city, but Bruce was home and introduced himself with a dad joke about the Hulk and a warm handshake. You saw the training facility, a giant room with floor to ceiling windows, a wall of mirrors, practice dummies, landing mats, and plenty of sparring weapons. There was, separately, a fully furnished gym, and then the basics, a large, modern kitchen, living areas and lounges, study spaces, a library, a party room with a bar, and a very fancy coffee machine.

You could see yourself making a home here.

Steve walked you back to the hallway where all the bedrooms were. “If you need anything or have any questions, my room is just down the hall on the left. Wanda is next door. Dinner is at six.”

“Six o’clock it is. Thank you, Cap.”

“You can call me Steve.”

“Steve.” You nodded, slowly accepting the fact that you were now on a first name basis with Captain America. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He said, some twinge of nostalgia at the end of his words. You turned back into your room to get some more unpacking done and Steve walked back down the hall, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling, doing his best to hold in his tears.

…Ready For It?

You spent the first few days in your room for the most part, unpacking but also hiding, if you were honest. You met Vision. He seemed nice. He also had the ability to phase through walls, apparently. Still no sign of Thor, but you weren’t holding your breath. You were sure he was a busy guy.

Sam Wilson introduced himself with the same offer everyone else had so far, to let them know if you needed anything. You appreciated it.

And then, finally, there was Tony, whose dry humor came across immediately. He sized you up, drilling questions about where you went to college, what you majored in, what your top three movies from the 1980s were. You were pretty sure he liked you, but you didn’t think he trusted you. And that was okay. You knew that was something you’d have to earn around there.

“No soulmark yet, kid?” He asked, eyeing up your bare wrist.

“Not yet.” You confirmed.

“That makes you what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-four. As of last month, actually.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Well that’s exciting. I’m sure you’re counting down the days.”

“More or less.” You chuckled, catching Steve watching you out of the corner of your eye. He did that a lot, you noticed.

Before Tony could come up with some witty comeback, the lights flashed red, accompanied by a loud siren.

“Vis? What’s going on?” Tony asked as Vision walked into the room, his sophisticated sweater melting into the uniform you’d seen on the news, red and green with a golden cape.

“There seems to be a stir at the local fairgrounds. Tremors and gunshots. Hostages.”

“Alright, let’s go pay them a visit then.” Tony pressed a button on his watch and transformed into Iron Man in front of your very eyes. “You can stay here or come with us. Up to you. But suit up fast. We’re out in five.”

You stood there for a moment, waiting for the shock to wear off, but the sirens definitely weren’t helping.

“Stick with me.” Steve instructed, voice calm, confident.

“Okay.” You nodded, following after him, towards the hangar where they kept the jets.

Natasha was standing at a locker, pulling her catsuit on with impressive speed, Clint beside her, loading a quiver with arrows, checking his bow.

“Nat, can you get her ready?”

“Baby’s first mission?” She asked, impressed.

You nodded, waiting for orders.

“Well, it should be an easy one, from the sound of it. Here, put this on. We’ll get you your own gear in the next few weeks.”

She chucked you an extra suit and you did your best to shimmy into it. Surprisingly, you could actually move in it. There were holsters, but you weren’t gun trained, so you figured it was best to leave that to the professionals. Instead, you followed the others onto the jet, hoping your forcefields and blossoming battle instincts would be enough to protect you out there.

***

The fair had devolved quickly into madness. There was fire, screaming, running, and gunshots. You flinched at the onslaught of it, but followed the others out anyway, listening to the voice in your earpiece, Steve’s voice, as he issued orders. You were put on civilian evacuation with Sam while the others engaged with the attackers. Six of them.

You did your job diligently, ushering people to a safe distance while law enforcement arrived. Until one of the attackers engaged with you, however, mistaking you for a civilian. Something snapped. In an instant your flight instinct vanished, replaced with the need to fight. He punched at you and you countered, sweeping a leg under him and then using a forcefield to knock him into the cornfield.

One of them launched a bazooka at Tony while he wasn’t looking, and without a thought, you trapped the explosive in a bubble, forcing it into the air where it exploded harmlessly, away from everyone.

And when the dust settled, the rest of the team turned to look at you, sharing looks with each other.

“Thanks for the save, kid. I owe you one.” Tony complimented, clapping you on the back on his way into the jet. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Your heart raced with the adrenaline of battle, the feeling of a job well done. Steve gave you a thumbs-up, a proud grin. His risk had paid off. You weren’t a total failure.

“You doin’ okay?” He asked, slinging his shield onto his back.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You replied, letting the energy fizzle back into your palms.

He watched with interest at the faint crackles of blue that made up your powers. “You did good out there.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Thanks, I—"

“Alright new girl, were are we stopping for food?” Natasha asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“I get to pick?” You asked with a laugh.

“And don’t be afraid to pick something fancy. It’s Tony’s treat.” Clint added, walking with the rest of you onto the jet. You strapped in while the others tried their darndest to influence your pick, bickering like siblings. Like your family.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

Waypoint

Your training started shortly after that first mission. Bruce took all your vitals, measured them before, during, and after use of your powers. He recorded said powers with every device known to man until he had your ability down to a science. He had a hunch they were of cosmic origin, but you had no idea when you could have possible come in contact with something like that.

Next came a uniform. At the moment, it was a dark indigo color, something similar to navy blue, but leaning a bit more purple. The chest area was left blank, Tony claiming he’d add a symbol once his graphic design team came up with something. He did add some accents up the arms and down the legs, thin, light blue lines that matched the color of your powers.

Natasha and Clint gave you a few crash courses on weapons and your aim left a bit to be desired, but your hand-eye coordination wasn’t bad. Sam put you on a modified military workout regimen to get in shape, get your stamina up with the rest of the team.

You practiced making forcefields, seeing how big you could make them, how small, how much force they could endure before they broke. Natasha shot some bullets at them, and your fields caught them, allowing you to kill their momentum and drop them harmlessly to the ground. They could withstand some electricity, but not Wanda’s powers. And they held against Steve’s superstrength, but not for long. Still, a few hits from a supersoldier was more than most could endure, so it would buy you some time in the field.

Eventually, you moved on from just forcefields and started learning to move objects. It turned out, you were not limited to bubbles. You could create platforms underneath things. This evolved into creating platforms underneath people, that they could jump on, or ride on top of while you moved them.

You practiced using them for transport too, but it was harder standing on them while controlling them, especially if you tried to jump from platform to platform. It was a bit like patting your head and rubbing your tummy, and it would take a lot of practice.

There weren’t many missions, and the ones that popped up, you didn’t get sent on. They were high level things, and while your powers were improving, and very quickly, Bruce was always quick to reassure you, you weren’t ready for covert ops yet, especially ones that had been months in the making.

Every time Steve got sent off, he left with that sad little half-smile of his, the one where he pressed his lips together, eyes glittering like a lake under moonlight. He’d give you some words of comfort, usually dealing with how short the mission was supposed to be. It didn’t often make you feel better.

Bruce stayed behind with you, most times. More like all of the times. Code Greens, as they were called, were seldom necessary, and besides, as they had learned with Wanda back during the Ultron days, Bruce could be a liability if someone else got in his head. But it was nice not being completely alone in the big empty facility.

“He always looks so sad when he leaves.” You noted, sipping from a mug of warm tea. Steve had left only moments before, the last member of the team that was shipping out.

Bruce thought about it for a moment. “Does he?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know him that well.” You shrugged, the sounds of Animal Crossing resonating from the TV.

“You know, he has, lately. He didn’t used to.” Bruce noted.

“Weird.”

“Uh-huh.” He replied absentmindedly. “So explain to me this game?”

“Okay, so you move to this island and have to spend all your money paying off debt to this raccoon…”

It was in another training session that there was a malfunction. A shock grenade went off dangerously close to Sam. Before you could even process what you were doing, your hand shot out, a bright, pulsating star crackling in front of him, another, second star on the other side of the room. Steve assessed the situation and used the shield to knock Sam into the star, neutralizing the grenade right after. There was a bright flash and Sam appeared on the other side of the room, tumbling out of the second star.

You froze, curling your fingers and closing both of them. There was a slight pinch in your shoulder, near the base of your neck. The others all stared.

“Wait, what was that?” Bruce asked over the intercom.

“You did that?” Steve asked, motioning to Sam as he walked over.

“I think so.”

“What was that?”

Natasha asked, looking you up and down. Sam stared at you like you’d sprouted a third eye.

“I don’t know.”

“Do it again.” Bruce insisted. “Hang on, I’m coming in there.”

The door from the observation room opened and Bruce joined the rest of you in the circle that was steadily forming, all of them watching you, waiting.

“I don’t know, it was just like…” You focused on that feeling again, the desperation to get Sam the hell away from that grenade, and as though you were punching a hole through reality, it opened in the center of the circle, an eight-pointed star, bobbing and ebbing and flowing, made of the light blue energy you were so familiar with.

Carefully, you opened another one, ten feet in the air above the first. Clint shrugged and chucked a tennis ball into it. Sure enough, it popped up to the second one, before falling down through the first one again. This continued until eventually you closed the bottom one, letting the tennis ball bounce harmlessly across the floor.

“Well shit.”

“Waypoints.” Bruce said, deep in thought. “Teleportation. This…this opens up a lot of doors.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve murmured.

“Hey, that’s kind of cool. Waypoint.” Clint said, drawing attention to it. “What do you think?”

“What, like as a codename?” You asked, weighing it as an option.

“I like it.” Sam grinned. “Waypoint.”

“Waypoint.” You repeated, trying it out. Hi, I’m Waypoint. I’m an Avenger.

It sounded silly, but it was getting more official by the day. There was, of course, only one way to make it official official, and that was with one of Tony Stark’s famed parties…

Wonderstruck

You let out a sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It was the night of the big party. Your first, as an Avenger, and the official induction of what Tony was deeming the second class of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Sam: the Falcon, Wanda: the Scarlet Witch, Vision, and You: Waypoint.

He’d gotten you a dress to wear, one that matched your uniform. It was long, sleek, that navy blue/indigo color. It glittered like stars and moved like a dream. And in the middle of it, poised at the base of the sweetheart neckline, was the eight-pointed star that Tony had turned into your symbol.

Your hair and makeup were done, and all that was left was the zipper.

Someone knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” You called, expecting Natasha or Wanda. Instead, it was Steve, who, when he saw you were unzipped, pulled the door almost all the way closed and shielded his eyes with his hand.

“Sorry! I’ll leave—”

“Wait, actually, could you help me zip this up? I can’t reach.”

Steve nodded, slowly lowering his hand and entering the room. He closed the door behind him to give you some privacy. He was dressed in a sharp black suit with a blue tie. His lapel pin looked like a tiny version of his shield.

“Wow…” He murmured, taking you in. “You look great, (Y/N).”

“You think so? I’m not sure blue is really my color…”

He scoffed. “It most certainly is.” He swept the hair off of your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the reflection in the mirror as he gently pulled the zipper higher until it was secure in place. “In more ways than one.”

“Yeah, guess so.” You agreed, nervous energy crackling around your fingers, blue as ever. You dispelled it, snapping out of it.

Steve looked at the two of you in the mirror for a long time before turning towards the door again. Halfway there, though, he turned back around, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a flat velvet box. “This is, um…for you.”

“Oh! Thank you.” You reached for it, heart racing. Inside was a necklace, its pendant a silver star with eight points. In the center, an aquamarine gem. You gasped, looking at it. It was beautiful, delicate. “Steve, this is beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I could do.” He said, offering his hand. “May I?”

“Please.” You said, handing him the necklace and moving your hair out of the way. He did the clasp behind your neck. It settled between your collarbones.

“There. Now it’s official.” He whispered.

“Almost.”

“Almost.” Steve agreed, offering you his elbow. “Right this way.”

You looped your arm through his, letting him lead you out into the initial murmurs of the party. What Natasha dubbed the “extended family” had shown up. Rhodey, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, and, of course, Thor.

He was a sight, that was for sure. He towered over everyone else at 6’5”, arms the size of tree trunks. It was a bit intimidating to say the very least.

“Rogers!” Thor bellowed.

“Thor! I didn’t think you were coming.”

He grinned. “I never miss a feast.” His eyes fell on you. “And you must be this new team member Banner spoke of.”

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“The honor is mine.”

“Here.” Natasha handed you a champagne flute. She eyed up your necklace. “That’s cute.”

“Steve gave it to me.”

She quirked an eyebrow and looked up at the supersoldier, who still had your arm. “Steve has good taste.”

“Steve had help.” He admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“I’d get you one too, Rogers, but Thor has the strong stuff.” Natasha said, patting his other arm while you took a sip of the champagne. It was sweet, tangy. “God’s favorite boy scout has trouble getting drunk.”

“My tolerance is too good.”

“I think we just need to get you a Four Loko. Or two.”

“A what?” Steve asked.

“It’s like four drinks in one can. They’re insane. I tried in college, but tapped out halfway through.”

He considered it for a moment, letting out a laugh. “See, that just might work.”

Tony wandered around the lounge, greeting everyone. He looked you up and down. “You look beautiful, Portal Girl.”

You internally chuckled. The others had advised you not to feed his ego when he used his nicknames. “Thank you, Tony.”

“And you’re also here, Rogers.”

“Tony.” Steve nodded.

“You her date tonight?” He asked, motioning to your joint arms.

“Oh. Yeah, I suppose I am.” Steve agreed, not budging. Neither were you.

“Well, I hope you’ve taken some dance lessons since last time, Rogers. I’m sure (Y/N) wouldn’t want to have her feet walked all over.”

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes as Tony moved onto his next targets. Sam emerged, looking very sharp in a red suit. Even Vision had dressed up for the occasion, Wanda beside him wearing an elegant red dress. The two of them talked and laughed on the other side of the room and you smiled. You could tell when you moved in that he cared about her.

You wondered if robots could have soulmates, too. If any android had a soul, surely it was Vision. Maybe you’d ask him about it sometime.

Once all of the expected guests were accounted for, Tony did the briefest ceremony in the history of ceremonies, introducing you all to the few members of the press he had allowed to come. You spent the beginning of the evening shaking hands, networking, and then once the strangers left, the real party started.

Nat switched you to something a lot stronger to champagne, and she was running the bar, so it was easy to get refills. Clint and Thor were arm wrestling on one of the tables which was…hilarious, admittedly.

Steve found you after a few hours apart. “Hey, will you be my partner?”

“Sure, for what?”

He laughed, loosening up quite a bit with Thor’s Asgardian mead in his system. “Sam and Bruce are trying to teach me how to play Beer Ball or something.”

“Beer Pong?”

“That one, yeah.” He nodded. “Winners play Clint and Nat.”

“That checks out.” You chuckled. “Yeah, I’m game. I haven’t played since college, though.”

“I haven’t played ever so I’m sure you’re a step ahead of me anyway.”

“We’ll see about that. Your physics skills are pretty good, what with the shield and all.” You complimented, earning that charming smile of his. “We might just give them a run for their money.”

“Enough flirting, kids, get over here.” Bruce grinned as he finished lining up the cups.

“You know how to play Beer Pong?” You asked, plucking a ping pong ball off of the table and fiddling with it.

“Kid, I have seven PhDs. I have played my share of Beer Pong.” Bruce admitted.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. It was nice to see the Avengers loosen up like this, have a good time together, really truly bond.

You gave Steve the basic rundown of the rules: no elbows past the edge of the table, balls back, stoplight, island, and that if you let Sam and Bruce get too many cups, you and Steve would get “schwaisted” as the kids said, or, at the very least, you would. Steve would probably be fine.

“Ladies first.” Sam said, giving you the second ping pong ball, one of which, you handed to Steve.

“You’re gonna regret that.” You said, rubbing the ball between your hands before perfectly bouncing it into the cup at the front of the pyramid. “Your turn, Steve.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He said, sinking the ball into the same cup. “I believe that’s three cups, gentlemen.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. He shared a look with Bruce. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“You’re telling me.” Bruce chuckled, retrieving the ping pong ball and rolling it back. He started drinking the contents of the first cup, leaving the other two to Sam. “Alright, do your worst.”

Needless to say, you wiped the floor with the other two. Barely even gave them a chance. Which is why it was only fair that Clint and Natasha kicked the absolute shit out of the two of you.

You struggled to down your third cup, which is why when you reached for the fourth, Steve shook his head and took it from you, only offering a wink when you opened your mouth to protest.

“Hey! Steve, it’s supposed to be five each.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she already finished hers.” Steve shrugged, chugging another like it was water. “Right, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah absolutely. What he said.” You shrugged.

You helped clean up the mess a bit after the game was over, rounding up empty cups, wiping down the table, and then washing your hands as Tony switched the music to something upbeat, dancing music.

“Come on, let’s dance.” Steve urged, clearly toeing the line between tipsy and drunk. He reached out for your hand and you couldn’t resist. You didn’t even try.

You let him lead you out to the middle of the room, where Wanda and Vision were already dancing together and looking adorable doing it.

“I thought you couldn’t dance.” You laughed as he spun you around to the music.

“I’m a quick learner.” He whispered, mouth against your ear.

You swore your entire body flushed red, but you let your feet lead you through the dance. Steve took both of your hands, swinging you out and then back in, spinning you around. You blamed the alcohol on what happened next. Your heel caught on the fabric of your dress and you fell over the back of one of the couches, tugging Steve down with you.

He laughed, using an arm to push himself off of you, hovering, eyes soft. “Sorry.”

“It’s my fault. You’ve got me falling for you, Rogers.” You murmured, gazing up at him through your eyelashes.

You said it as a joke, a quip, but there was some truth in it. More than some. It had been a magical, magical night. And if it weren’t for the leather cuff on his wrist, you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him.

Steve closed his eyes, smiling and sitting up, helping you upright again. “I’ll go get us some water.”

You sighed and sat back against the couch, heart hammering in your chest.

Natasha perched on the armrest, looking down at you. “What was that?”

“Not sure. I think I fumbled the bag. If…if there even was a bag I guess.” You chuckled, shrugging.

“No, there is something there. I can see it.” Natasha said, thinking as she nursed a glass of wine. “Hmmm…”

Steve stood in the kitchen, getting two glasses of filtered water from the fridge. He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning against it. He replayed the moment in his head over and over. The look in your eyes, the way your necklace glimmered in the light, the sound of your voice, the flush of your cheeks. You were catching feelings for him, that much was clear. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.

Maybe it was a good thing, he reasoned, thinking back on his first night with you all those years ago. But you still couldn’t know why. Not yet.

It was going to kill him to keep it a secret for ten more months.

Timeless

Sherbert rays of the sunrise lit the training room, filling it with a warm orange glow. You were sitting on the floor, stretching your legs while you listened to music. That was another thing on the growing list of skills that had improved during your stint as an Avenger: your flexibility.

Suddenly, Steve was standing over you, saying something you couldn’t hear due to the noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You slid one off, looking up at him. “Good morning.”

“Morning. You’re here early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged, reaching for your other leg.

“Sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I think I drank too much caffeine before bed last night. Learned my lesson. No caffeine after six.”

“That’s a good rule. Mind if I stretch with you?” He asked.

“I don’t mind.” You tossed your headphones onto your workout bag and connected your phone to the Bluetooth speakers, putting on some music you could both listen to.

“I recognize her. This girl’s voice.”

“Taylor Swift.”

“Ah. Yes, her. I keep hearing about her.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” You laughed. “Have you liked any of her songs so far?”

“I don’t know if I could name one for you, to be honest.” He listened to the song that was playing. “This one’s not bad, though.”

“I’ll send you some recommendations. There are some I think you’d really vibe with.”

He smiled. “I’d really like that.”

The others came in not long after, did their warm-ups, and then Steve briefed everyone on the plan for their training session, one in which everyone would swap weapons, practice using each other’s things in case they ever had to in battle if one of their teammates got disarmed.

You started with Clint. He showed you the absolute basics of archery, how to pull back the bow, how to notch an arrow, how to aim, taking into account distance. You fired a few arrows into a target and did okay, you supposed, but you would need some practice if you wanted to actually get good at it. Years of it, realistically.

Natasha showed you how to use her electric batons, which were fun, but did intimidate you a little. You definitely did not want to end up on the wrong end of those things.

And then, inevitably, you were standing in front of Steve. He offered you his shield, which on its own seemed daunting. You held it for a second, assessing the weight of it. It was noticeably lighter than you thought it would be.

“Woah.”

“Yeah. People always expect it to be heavier.” He said, a hand resting on his hip as he watched you hold it. It looked so right in your hands, he decided. “It’s good for a lot of things, but first…” Carefully, he helped you put your arm through the straps on the back of it, holding it in front of your body in its primary and most famous purpose.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “This is so crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, you have no idea.” You chuckled, waving it around a bit.

“You keep looking at it like it’s Thor’s hammer or something.” He teased.

“Feels like it.”

“Well the good news is, this thing is not password protected by some Asgardian magic words. The bad news is, that means the bad guys can pick it up, too.” Steve said, gently positioning your body in an offensive stance, nudging a foot with his own, switching your arms around. “You can use it to bash somebody head on, or you can angle it a bit to get a more direct blow. It will take the force of most things. I…I actually kind of don’t know the limits. Hasn’t failed me yet. The paint does come off from time to time, though, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay, wow.” You nodded. “Good to know.”

“I trust you with it.” He said, eyes meeting yours.

You smiled, heart racing. “I’m honored.”

He showed you a few other tricks, and then training wrapped up for the day, everyone grabbing some water, taking a shower, or making plans for lunch. Once you walked off with Wanda, Nat cornered Steve.

“What was that?” She asked, that catlike grin on her face.

“What was what?”

“I saw it, you know, the way you looked at her. I think you’ve got a soft spot.”

“Yeah, well, I did rope her into all this. Can’t say I don’t feel responsible for her.” He dodged expertly, weaving through Natasha’s mental gymnastics with skill and precision, or so he thought.

“Uh-huh sure. Well, she, Wanda, and I are going antiquing this afternoon. You should come. After all, you know quite a bit about vintage valuables.”

He laughed. “Hey!”

She walked off, smiling to herself. Steve thought about it for all of four seconds before he decided he would tag along. He hadn’t been to an antique shop in this century, so he couldn’t imagine the kinds of things they had there now. He might even learn a thing or two.

***

After a quick lunch, Steve did decide to tag along. It wound up being him, Vision, and the girls, which he certainly didn’t mind.

You and Wanda were buzzing with excitement, Natasha looking on and following behind with Steve. Vision lingered, studying everything, picking things up to get a closer look. He had projected a human disguise over himself, something Steve didn’t know he could even do, but it seemed to work. No one had batted an eye at him since they stepped foot in the shop.

“This place is…huge.” Steve said, glancing down the hall of the seemingly endless store.

“Biggest one in the state.” You chimed. “It’s the whole city block.”

“There’s a basement, too. And a second floor.” Natasha informed him, patting his arm. “This is gonna be an all day kinda thing.”

“Oh undoubtedly.” He said, setting down the teacup in his hands, a petite, floral thing.

You sifted through a box of records, picking up the soundtrack of the Muppets Movie.

“Is that a frog?”

“This is Kermit thee Frog, show some respect.” You laughed, putting the record in your basket.

“Kermit?” Steve asked again, seeming genuine.

“Oh I forgot you missed the Muppets, oh my god.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

“We need to fix that as soon as possible.” You told him. “Can’t have you missing out on cultural icons like Gonzo and Miss Piggy.”

“Okay now you’re making things up.” He chuckled, shuffling through the records as well. You showed him a few good ones and he added them to his basket, saying something about how he’s been meaning to use his new record player.

Wanda browsed some vintage rings, picking out a few, and Natasha rifled through a rack of vintage dresses, most of them from the forties and fifties from the look of it. Nat held up a navy blue one, silky, with short ruffled sleeves and buttons down the front. Steve froze, looking at it. For a moment, it looked just a little too familiar. Like the dress you had worn that night.

Eventually Nat put the dress back. You hadn’t seen it. You were distracted by a shelf of VHS tapes, looking for the old Barbie movies, whatever those were. Wanda was with you, on the next shelf over, calling out movie names when she found something cool.

Steve wandered off on his own, looking around at the different trinkets and toys, old letterman jackets and jewelry, dishes that may or may not contain lead. Finally, he came upon a little room full of art, paintings and photographs, handmade pottery.

Time stood still.

He stared at the large painting on the wall, oil on canvas. Two star-crossed lovers dancing in a bar in Brooklyn, a little guy with a dream, dancing with the most beautiful girl in the world, twirling in her dark blue dress. His heart raced. He never thought he’d see this painting again.

It had been his last painting before leaving for Camp Lehigh, the last painting he did before his life and body changed forever. He’d used the last of his paints to make it, every color mixed with care to get the exact color of your hair, your eyes, your lips, all from memory.

And it was here in front of him. When he had been presumed dead, it must have been sold off. He didn’t really have anyone left it could go to.

In that moment, he wasn’t Captain America. Standing in his shoes was that little guy from Brooklyn.

“Woah.” You murmured, suddenly right next to him. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it…it is.” He agreed, looking away from it. He didn’t want you to get too close of a look at it. However, that didn’t stop you from walking forward to inspect it closer.

“‘Soulmates.’ Artist unknown.” You read from the plaque. “Oh, it’s from the 40s. 1943. Does it look familiar?”

“Yeah, actually. Bucky liked that bar.” Steve said, pointing to the details of the interior. “It’s a little place in Brooklyn, called Val’s. Well, it was I guess. I don’t know if it’s still open anymore.”

Your eyes lingered on the woman’s face, on the man’s. You didn’t say anything about how they looked, about the uncanny resemblance to yourself and Steve. Instead, you sighed. “Someday, I want to be that in love with someone.”

He just about cried. But instead, he gathered his words, put a hand on your shoulder, and told you with confidence, “You will be.”

***

Hours later, when you were all shopped out and you’d checked out with your things, Steve stayed at the counter while the rest of you went to the car.

“Hey, um, that painting in the art room. The soulmates in the bar. I’m interested in buying it. Would it be possible to have it held here for a while, though?”

“Oh I’m sure we could arrange something,” said the old man at the counter with a smile and a nod. He started writing out the purchase form.

Steve glanced back towards where it was, that fragment of his soul he didn’t think he’d ever see again. He knew the fact that he’d stumbled upon it was nothing short of fate.

Wildest Dreams

It had been Tony’s idea. Of course it had. It always was, wasn’t it? He’d insisted that all the members of the team who hadn’t yet been exposed to Wanda’s mind manipulation should be, just in case there was a misfire during combat and one of you got caught in the crossfire. It would be important to see how each of you reacted, the kinds of things you saw so you’d be able to snap out of it.

Theoretically, of course.

This left Natasha, Steve, Thor, Bruce, and Tony out, as they’d already had their fun with Wanda’s magic. The rest of you, however, were waiting for your turn.

Wanda felt conflicted about it. She didn’t want to hurt her friends on accident, let alone on purpose, but Tony was insistent, and he had some of the others on his side. Namely, Rhodey, who had been hanging out more and more, and Clint, who’d had his experience with a different kind of mind control shortly before the Battle of New York.

It was part of why he’d volunteered to go first. Once he came to, he gave you a thumbs-up, shaking it off and walking over to Natasha.

“You sure you’re good?” She checked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal. Who’s next?”

Sam looked at you and the despondent look on your face before volunteering himself to go next. Rhodey went in solidarity, despite being too busy with his government responsibilities to be a full-time member of the team. And then it was your turn. You stood next to Wanda. She offered an apologetic smile before red crackled around her fingertips and it hit you.

For the first few seconds, you were fine. You felt tingly. You blinked a few times and your eyes felt weird. No doubt, your eyes were red, like the others’ turned when they were under the influence of Wanda’s powers.

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, voice urgent.

“Think so.” You replied, mouth full of cotton. It felt like that time in college someone had given you an edible that was too strong. The first and last time you’d ever gotten high. Like you were sinking and melting. Your legs buckled and Steve surged forward, catching you before you hit the floor, gently lowering you into a comfortable position. “Hey, you’re pretty strong…” You murmured, head lolling onto his shoulder.

The others all looked at each other. Clint dragged over a bean bag and Steve gently lowered you onto it, adjusting it so you’d be comfortable.

“She’ll be okay, Steve.” Natasha reassured him, the guilt in his eyes palpable, yet still not explained. Not entirely. She had a sneaking suspicion whatever it was had something to do with the name written on his wrist, the name he wouldn’t show anyone. Not her, not Nick Fury, not even Sam.

“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, slowly taking a step back. His eyes didn’t leave you. He had to force himself to look away. “I, um…I have to go…There’s a…” Steve motioned towards the door before leaving the room, while you sat there, catatonic, off in your own little world.

***

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, his voice close. “That was a long nap. Forget to set your alarm?”

You opened your eyes and you were laying down on the couch. Steve was standing at the island in the kitchen, cooking something. It smelled good. Really good. He was wearing a button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, still wearing his slacks from work. He had music playing from the record player, your vast collection of hits from decades of music, and he was still hooked on 40s jazz. You supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“You cooking?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded. “Come over here and get a taste.”

You followed, out to the kitchen. He set down his wooden spoon and swiftly intercepted you, pulling you up onto the countertop, kissing you deeply, a hand running through your hair. Your hand came up to frame his cheek. He was growing a bit of a beard these days. You liked it, thought it suited him.

You sighed against his lips and then pulled away to look at him. He grabbed your wrist, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. Three simple words. Steven Grant Rogers.

“I love you, doll.” His words cut through you, eyes tender and sincere. “Always have.”

But this wasn’t your Steve. And it wasn’t your reality, given away by the slightest tinge of red in his irises.

It wasn’t real. And neither was the glimmering wedding ring around your finger.

***

You blinked awake, the power dispersing from your head, leaving you shockingly sober. And hungry. That familiar sting was back, right between your neck and shoulder. You wondered how long it’d been.

Clint was in the room with you. So was Sam. Natasha was gone. Wanda too, surprisingly. As was Steve.

You got chills even thinking about him, the phantom of the wedding ring still clinging to your finger.

“You alright?” Sam asked, making eye contact with you first.

“Yeah, I’m good. How long…?”

“Three minutes. New record.” Clint said with a grin.

“Oh.” No wonder it had felt so short. Part of you wanted it to last longer.

“We’re sending Rhodey to get some food, if you’re hungry.” Sam said.

“Where from?”

“The golden arches.”

“I could go for some nuggies.” You admitted. “A McFlurry, perchance.”

Clint laughed. “How did I know you would say that?”

In the kitchen, Steve stood, hands on the counter, mug of coffee steaming in front of him, untouched. He stared at the cupboard door.

“That must be one interesting cupboard. You’ve been standing there for like five whole minutes.”

“It’s only been three.” Steve said, glancing at the clock.

“And the fact that you know down to the exact minute is why I’m so intrigued.” Natasha chimed, tilting her head. “What is going on with her? I have never seen you look at anyone like that in the entire time I’ve known you. Is she…what, the kid of an old friend? Grandkid?”

“It’s nothing, Natasha. She’s the newest member of the team, I’m just worried—”

“Steve.” She said, cutting him off, that look in her eye. “If you want to get all defensive about it, fine. Keep your secrets.” She sighed. “But if you need someone, I’m here. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Steve let out a long sigh, weighing his options. It was something to the tune of eight months until your birthday. That was still a long time. A lot of time for that secret to slip through the cracks and, potentially, break the timeline. The Butterfly Effect was something he had researched extensively. Your future together was something he wasn’t willing to risk.

No, it was too important that you stay in the dark, even if that meant keeping his friends in the dark, too.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. But I’m fine, really. It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded unconvinced. “Well, she’s out of it. Clint just texted. She wants twenty chicken nuggets and an Oreo McFlurry.”

The relief was immediate. You were okay. He could only wonder what you had seen in there, and why it had been so quick. The others had been under for upwards of ten minutes. You’d only been down three. “Well good. I’ll let Rhodey know.”

Invisible String

It was late. A few weeks after your tussle with the Scarlet Witch, if you could even call it that. You could tell Wanda felt guilty about the whole thing, but it wasn’t her fault. If anything it was Tony’s. Sure, the exercise had prepared you for a worst case scenario, but it had also dug a very awkward gap between you and Steve. You could barely even look at him without wanting to burst into tears.

He had his soulmate, whoever they were. You really needed to let it go.

You walked down to the kitchen to get a cold drink, but there was already someone sitting at the table. Steve, sitting there, hand resting on his chin, papers spread out in front of him. There was a picture you recognized as Bucky Barnes.

You’d heard whispers of him around the Compound from time to time. Steve’s best friend turned Hydra assassin, brainwashed for decades and now, rogue, out there somewhere. Sam always seemed to be looking for the guy. Natasha and Clint, too. And there had never been any sign of him. Well, until now, it seemed.

On the TV, Star Wars was playing. Empire Strikes Back. Steve looked up at it every so often.

“Star Wars?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Your first time?”

“No. They were the first things I watched when I was out of the ice. I like them a lot. The hope, the Force, the Jedi stuff, the music.” He shrugged. “They’re good.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

Steve smiled, sheepish. “Han Solo.”

“And here I thought you’d say Luke Skywalker.”

“He’s great, too. You like Star Wars?”

“Yeah, I used to be obsessed with them in high school. Haven’t seen them in a while, though. I’m something of a Leia girl myself.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Does it?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “You’ve got that spark.”

“What order did you watch them in?”

“Nat made me watch the originals first.” He confessed. “I like the prequels, though. Well, two of the prequels. Phantom Menace is…”

“Oh yeah. You’re not alone in that.” You laughed softly. “You know, I never really pegged you as a sci-fi nerd.”

“Yeah, well, someone I really care about seemed to like them a whole lot, so I knew I had to check them out.” He shrugged. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Getting a drink. What are you doing up so late?”

He looked down at the papers and then back up at you. “Oh. Yeah, this is just…Trying to get some stuff figured out.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offered.

He thought about it for a long moment, letting out a little sigh before nodding. That was the only reassurance you needed before grabbing a can of soda from the fridge and plopping down into the seat next to him.

“They found him. Clint and Natasha. They think he’s hiding out in Kentucky somewhere.” Steve said. He shook his head. “He saved my life a few years ago. After all the brainwashing, he still pulled me out of the water. I don’t know how much of him is still him, but…”

“But it’s worth a try.” You reasoned. “Obviously he’s been through a lot, but he must be pretty strong to have made it through everything.”

“I don’t know when I’m going. They haven’t narrowed it down all the way. And Tony doesn’t want me to even go at all.”

“Tony is full of shit.”

He laughed. “Yeah…”

“If you want to go, you should go. And if you need me, I’m there. You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

He met your eyes with a sobering gaze. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed. “When, uh, when I was in the eighth grade, my class took a trip down to DC. There’s a Captain America exhibit in the Air and Space Museum, it had just opened. We learned about you and Bucky. How close you were, what happened. There are videos of me just crying uncontrollably there, learning about it. They had to take me outside, get me some water. I couldn’t go back in. I don’t even know why. Something about it…”

“About me?” Steve whispered.

“That’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t have told you that.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s sweet.” Steve said, reaching for your hand on the table. You let him take it, fingers curling.

“So when you found me that day, I guess I always knew it would lead to something like this. A stroke of fate, or something.” You admitted. “Some part of me knew that you would mean something to me someday. I guess I never thought we would be friends.”

“How old were you?”

“God, this would have been like ten years ago at this point. I was like fourteen or something. I was twenty-one when they found you in the ice. It was all over the news my sophomore year of college, kind of right when I was figuring my powers out, actually. And then everything was all over the news and I…went into hiding more or less, hoping it wouldn’t be me on the TV next.”

“Until the mall?”

“Yeah. But I couldn’t just…let it happen, you know? It was like some part of me knew that I had these powers for a reason, and that if I didn’t stop it, who would? I didn’t know you were there, obviously, but, I think even if I had, I still would have jumped in.”

He smiled softly, eyes earnest. He gave your hand a squeeze. “Well I’m really glad you did, for the record. I think we’re all a little better off because of it.”

There was a moment of quiet. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“How old are you?”

“Oh, um…I’m ninety-eight.”

You chuckled. “No, like how old are you really?”

Steve took a breath. No one ever asked him that. No one really cared about that. No one except you, it seemed. “I’m not sure. I’d have to do some math. I think I’m twenty-eight maybe. Twenty-nine.”

“Thought so.” You smiled. “Well, Steve, whenever you get it figured out, say the word and I’ll suit up. We’ll bring him home.”

Out of the Woods

The next mission you were sent on wasn’t to bring back Bucky. Not yet. Instead, you were on the team that got deployed into a rainforest to break up a rogue Hydra base. It was warm, almost too warm for your uniform, but you were grateful for the coverage, especially when they started shooting.

You ran down the makeshift path, evading enemies and throwing up forcefields to stop them in their tracks. Thor was in town, so he was zipping around through the trees with his hammer, the force of it bringing some down every once in a while.

“On your six.” Steve reported through the comms. You dodged out of the way and sure enough, a Hydra agent tumbled ahead, tripped by a small field you cast at his feet. A few of Natasha’s bullets took care of that.

“Thanks.” You replied.

“Don’t mention it. I could actually use some backup. I’m in the building. There’s more of them than I thought there would be.”

“I’m on my way.” You reported, changing directions and sprinting towards the building housing the Hydra base. What they were doing here, you had no clue, but Bruce theorized it had something to do with a meteor that had landed out that way a few months prior. They were probably harvesting whatever materials had been inside it.

You kicked down the door. Steve had six guys on him, two of which he disposed of quickly. You made a portal beneath one guy, sending him falling down a flight of stairs with the second portal you opened.

The other three guys went down quickly enough, only for a guy in a giant mech armor to come crashing through the interior wall. He shot and Steve jumped in front of you, taking a hit to the neck. A tiny syringe filled with shimmering purple liquid.

“Fuck! Steve!” You ran to him, but that didn’t take care of the large problem looming behind you. Seeing red, you made another portal at the feet of the robot, opened it in the ceiling, and cut it off as it was halfway through, destroying it in a flash of sparks and shredded metal. It shut down, giving you time to get to Steve.

He was sitting against the wall, head slumped to the side. You took the syringe out of his neck, tucking it into a pouch on your belt for testing. If this thing was poison, you’d need Bruce to start whipping up an antidote as soon as possible.

“Steve, hey, stay with me.” You touched his face, trying to wake him.

At your touch, he blinked a few times, drowsy. He gave you a crooked smile. “Heyyy, there you are.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta get you back to the jet.” You told him, pulling him to his feet, but he slumped in your arms like dead weight. You had been working out since you’d been recruited, but he was still heavy. “You’ve gotta work with me, big guy.”

“They used to call me little guy.” He murmured, sounding drunk. “Back in Brooklyn.”

“I’m sure they did.” You slung his arm around your shoulders and started hauling ass out of the building. A few agents shot at you, trying to hit you while you were distracted with carrying Steve to safety, but they forgot you were the one Avenger whose specialty was defense.

You lit a forcefield in your left hand, using its faint blue light to guide the two of you through the dim hallways. It slowed all the bullets to a stop, causing them to drop to the floor harmlessly. There was something kind of poetic about it, you supposed. Steve was so famous for that shield of his, but now you were the shield, protecting him.

“Did you guys find anything in there?” Clint asked.

“The good news is, we cleared most of it out. Bad news is, Steve got shot with something. I’m bringing him back to the ship now. I don’t know what it was but he’s acting really drunk.”

“Tranq darts seem to have that effect on him, yeah.” Bruce explained. “Bring him back here and I’ll make sure it wasn’t laced with something else.”

“On it.”

You lugged Steve along, stopping to rest and readjust against a wall for a second.

“Thank you for takin’ care of me even when I don’t feel so good.” He said, leaning his full weight against you.

“Of course, Steve. I’ve got ya.” You pulled his arm around your shoulders again. “You would do the same for any of us.”

He smiled, face impossibly close to yours. “Oh, I’d do anything for you, (Y/N).”

You knew it was probably just the drugs talking but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you when he said it anyway.

Once you were outside, you opened a waypoint in front of the two of you, the second portal in front of the jet, and then stepped through, closing it behind you. Bruce opened the door and helped you haul Steve inside, onto the cot of the makeshift mobile infirmary.

You handed Bruce the empty vial.

“Thank you for remembering. Thor always breaks these and then I have to do bloodwork to figure out what was in them.” He chuckled.

“He’s very smash first, ask questions later.”

“No wonder he and Hulk get along so well.” Bruce joked. “Alright, get back out there. I’ll make sure he’s alright.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful out there.” Steve advised, eyes half-lidded. “They have guns.”

“I’ll be extra careful, alright? I promise.” You met his eyes and he smiled immediately. Once you were sure he was okay, you stepped out of the jet again, getting back to help the others.

***

When you got back, you were nursing a bullet wound. They’d gotten you in the arm. It wasn’t too bad, though, the bleeding had almost stopped. Natasha went straight for the med kit when you two stepped foot on the jet, motioning you over to the stool.

Steve was there, still on the cot. He stared as Nat started cleaning your wound. “Wait, you got hurt?”

“I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”

He nodded and reached for your hand. “I’m really glad you’re alright, doll. Had me worried sick.”

Doll. You replayed the word in your mind. Steve had called you a lot of things in the past few months, but never once had he used that somewhat outdated term of endearment. You liked it, though.

You met Natasha’s eyes and she smirked while the supersoldier held your hand.

Sam walked in next, eyeing up the scene unfolding in front of him. “Woah, what’d I miss? Feels like I missed several chapters.”

“Steve is drunk.” Clint explained, counting his remaining arrows.

“Tranq dart. He’s fine. Just needs to ride it out for a few hours. He should be back to normal by the time we get home.” Bruce explained as he put away his tablet.

“You feeling alright, buddy?” Sam walked over and put a hand on Steve’s other arm. “You’re holding (Y/N)’s hand kinda tight there.”

“Huh?” Steve asked, directing his eyes to your joint hands. He let go. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Steve.” You reassured him.

The others trickled in slowly until everyone was accounted for, the base destroyed, the Hydra operatives in SHIELD custody for questioning. Fury and his team would handle it from there. You couldn’t help but play the mission over and over in your head.

Never had you used a waypoint to split something in half. But something had clicked in you when Steve was hurt. You’d never felt like that before, like part of your soul itself was being ripped out. He meant more to you than you cared to admit, especially when your fate was tied elsewhere.

Still, your new ability needed training. It was a dangerous skill to have, and if you didn’t hone it properly, you could end up doing some serious damage on accident.

Come Find Me in the Future

It was the night before you and a select group of the team were heading out to find and recover Bucky. Clint had finally gotten a hit on him. But if he had, that meant others could be after him, too. People that wanted him back. Badly.

You were nervous about it for that reason. You weren’t sure why the rest of you hadn’t already left, to be honest. You didn’t want to race with Hydra. It wasn’t one you were sure you’d win.

To stave off the feeling of dread, you had commandeered the living room TV and popped in Howl’s Moving Castle. You were nursing a mug of chamomile tea in your hands, playing games on your Switch.

You were near the end of the movie, at the part where Sophie was whisked to the past, when Steve walked into the room, in his pajamas, a tank top and a pair of plaid pants.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hey. You’re up late. Big mission tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s almost over.” You told him. “Drinking my sleepy tea as we speak.”

“Sleepy tea?”

“Chamomile mint. It’s good. There’s some over by the Keurig if you want any.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, walking over. “What’s this?”

“Howl’s Moving Castle. One of my favorites.” You told him.

“What’s it about?”

“That is a complicated question.” You laughed. “I’d have to start it over, I think.”

“Another time, maybe.” He chuckled, crossing his arms.

Steve watched as Sophie got sucked back through the wormhole to the present.

She called out “I know how to help you now! Find me in the future!”

He perked up. “Wait, she…there’s time travel?”

“Yeah, she gets pulled into the past for a bit and tells him to find her and then years later, the first words he says to her are ‘There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ It’s really sweet.”

“They’re soulmates?”

“They are.” You nodded.

“Does that happen? Often?” Steve asked, hung up on it. “In real life?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of that happening before.” You shook your head. “I don’t think anyone would believe it, even if it did. Happens a lot in fiction, though.”

“Oh. Cool.” Steve nodded. He met your eyes and then looked down at his lap, tongue flitting across his pink lips. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “For what?”

“The mission last week. I, uh…I said some things and, uh…I just, I’d hate to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t.” You assured him. “No apology necessary. You were drugged. I probably would have said worse, to be honest.”

He smiled. “Okay. Cool. Thanks. And thank you for agreeing to come tomorrow. We could really use the help.”

“Of course. I’ve got your back, always.” You told him, earning another one of those earnest, lovesick smiles. “Anywho, I finished that playlist for you. The Taylor Swift one. I can make you a more general one with different songs, but…figured that was a decent starting place.”

“Great, yeah, thank you.” He nodded, looking at his phone as it pinged with the notification you had sent it to him. “I’ll give it a listen.”

“Let me know what you think.”

“Oh I will.” He chuckled to himself. “Really, thank you. I appreciate it. And um, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.” You saluted.

He nodded before repeating, “Bright and early.”

Bygones

Bright and early was an understatement. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when your alarm went off. You groaned, rolled over and silenced your screaming phone, forcing yourself to sit up so you didn’t drift back off.

Today was too important for that.

Instead, you got up, brushed your hair, and went out to the kitchen, where Vision had whipped up a full breakfast for everyone going out. It was you, Steve, Nat, Wanda, and Sam. A small team, but enough firepower to bring him back without overwhelming and/or scaring him off.

“Morning.” Steve said, eyes landing on you the moment you walked into the room.

“Morning.”

“Coffee?” He offered, pushing a cup of your favorite iced coffee over to you. You couldn’t lie, you were impressed.

“Thanks.” You grinned, taking a long sip to kickstart your morning. You loaded a plate up with eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast, plus a little side of hashbrowns, thanking Vision thoroughly.

“It is my pleasure, (Y/N). As someone who does not require sleep, it would be rude of me to let you all starve so early in the day.”

“(Y/N), you got him listening to Taylor Swift?” Sam asked, eyes drilling into you.

You laughed. “Uh, yeah. What about it? She’s a cultural icon, do you want him left out of the loop?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Steve shrugged, sipping on his coffee.

“Of course you’re not.” Natasha chuckled, words warbled by her own cup. You noticed the way her lips pursed. If you weren’t mistaken, you’d say she was nervous. About what, you couldn’t tell. She seldom got nervous. Or at least, she seldom let it show. But it was definitely there.

Wanda was the last into the kitchen, already fully put together. She gave the chef her thanks with a warm smile and sparkling eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. Those two, beyond a shadow of a doubt, were absolutely made for each other. You wondered what her wrist would have to say about it when the time came.

Once everyone had eaten, those who weren’t suited up got ready, locked and loaded for a tense mission. You’d have Clint on the coms here, doing recon from a drone. The rest of you loaded up onto the jet, strapping in.

Nat and Sam hopped into the cockpit. Wanda sat next to you, Steve across the aisle, his eyes meeting yours every so often.

“It’ll be alright.” You said, trying to dispel his nerves.

He nodded, but didn’t reply, just giving a short nod and staring at the holographic map on the wall as you approached closer and closer. You could see that little guy from Brooklyn peeking through the eyes of the supersoldier sitting across from you, nervous about his best friend.

You unbuckled just before you landed, walking across the jet to strap on your weapons. The others did the same, arming themselves. Nat was going to keep the jet warm for a speedy exit, the look in her eyes still unreadable. The rest of you got ready for war.

It was an abandoned warehouse, large garage door, broken windows, slanted roof with a hole in it. Definitely not the most secure of places. According to Clint’s drone, Bucky was in the back room.

“Waypoint, I need you out here ready to get us a quick escape.”

“Got it.” You nodded, positioning yourself within eyeshot of the warehouse and the jet so you could make a portal either way.

“Wanda, Sam, you’re with me.” Steve instructed, taking a minute to breathe, to think. “He’s gonna be ready to run. We have to talk him out of it.”

“Uh, Cap. Might wanna work a little faster. There’s another plane incoming. About three minutes out.”

“Alright.” Steve nodded, taking off his helmet and slinging his shield onto his back. He led the other two into the building.

For a heartwrenching two minutes, you didn’t hear anything. And then you heard a plane. And then gunshots.

“(Y/N), now!” Steve instructed.

You did as you were told, opening the waypoint in the warehouse, another just outside. Nat had picked the jet up off of the ground, firing at the one Hydra had brought. She took another shot, damaging the wing and causing it to go down.

“Shit, wait—!”

There was a flash of light and you expected it to be Steve that came through first. Maybe Bucky, even. Instead, it was a grenade. And a split second later, it exploded, knocking you unconscious.

***

Steve stood over you, horrified. Thanks to your suit, the damage didn’t seem too bad. But you had blood and soot caked on your face, the ends of your hair singed.

It was his fault. He had told you to open the Waypoint, only for a Hydra agent to toss a grenade right through it.

He all but collapsed to his knees, collecting you in his arms. Bucky was on the jet already, Sam, too. Only he and Wanda were outside with you.

“(Y/N), come on. Open those eyes for me.” He pleaded, voice soft, eyes aching with tears. “Hey, come on. Please…”

“We should get her back to the jet.” Wanda goaded softly, a hand on Steve’s arm.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. He scooped you off of the ground, an arm beneath your legs, the other around your back. Your arms hung down, limp. Your head rested heavily against his shoulder, eyes closed.

By the time Steve walked up the ramp, Nat already had the infirmary cot down, ready to go. Bucky watched, eyes intense. He looked up when Steve approached, eyes falling on you. They widened when he got a look at you.

“Woah, is that…?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “It is.”

Natasha helped him get you situated in the cot, wrapping the cuff around your arm that would measure your vitals. With everyone accounted for, Sam closed the door, lifting the jet into the air.

“I’ve got Banner on the line.” Natasha told him.

“Good.” Steve’s eyes didn’t leave you for a second, watching as the breaths entered and left your lungs. “Tell him to get the infirmary ready for her.”

“Already on it, Cap. She’ll be okay. Her vitals look…well they look good, all things considered.” Bruce relayed. “Just get back here as fast as you can.”

***

As soon as the jet landed, Steve unhooked you from the vitals monitor and collected you in his arms, carrying you to the gurney Bruce had ready, walking with him as he wheeled you towards the infirmary. Bruce insisted he needed some time and sent Steve away, taking a piece of his heart with him.

Vision checked over Bucky, giving him the okay almost immediately before going to help Bruce in the infirmary.

Steve sat at the table, Bucky sitting down to join him. The others gave them a minute alone.

“Hey, pal.” Steve exhaled, trying to force a smile. “Glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” He agreed. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course.” Steve nodded. “I’m with you—”

“Til the end of the line.” Bucky smiled, eyes soft. His irises flicked towards the infirmary and back. “You wanna talk about it?”

Steve let out a sigh, the wall finally coming down and more tears slipping down his cheeks. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. She’s—”

“She’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” Bucky’s hand grabbed onto Steve’s wrist, the covered one. The one with her name etched onto it. “She has to be. Has she…does she know yet?”

“No one does. Just me. And you.” Steve confessed. He wiped his thumb under his eye. “So you’re right. She has to pull through.”

Steve held onto that spark of hope for the coming hours. He showed Bucky to the room that had been prepared for him, but Sam offered to give him a tour of the place, knowing their friend was in a fragile mental state.

Eventually, Vision found him and told him he could enter the infirmary. Bruce had finished treating you. When Steve walked in and saw you, still unconscious, laying on that bed, he choked on more sobs. The bruising on your face was pretty severe. You were hooked up to several monitors, an IV. Supposedly, your injuries were not too extreme, but you had a cracked rib and would need time to heal before you could do any missions or training.

Hours later, Nat found Steve in there, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. He fiddled with the cuff around his wrist. The playlist you’d made for him played softly from a speaker in the corner of the room. Timeless. As if he wasn’t already crying enough.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve. Bruce thinks she might wake up soon.” Nat comforted, sitting in the chair next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, confused by her friend’s sudden mood. Members of the team had been injured before and sure, he checked on them, but he never reacted like this.

“I know, I just…” He shook his head. “I’m worried about her is all. It’s…kinda my fault this happened.”

Nat pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “This seems like a little more than that. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

He wanted to hold onto his secret. He did. But he was feeling fragile, vulnerable. It couldn’t hurt to have just one more person on his side. “I can, just…not here.” Steve nodded, leading her out of the room, out of your earshot, if you could even hear him while you were out, but still in sight thanks to the soundproof windows.

Nat’s hands settled on her hips, waiting for an answer. Instead, Steve took the cuff off of his wrist and held it out to her, letting her read the letters that had been etched there for the better part of a century.

Her jaw dropped. She stammered, arms crossing. She met his eyes and when she saw the sadness there, the guilt and longing, her expression softened.

“I should have told her. A long time ago, I should have told her but I can’t. In six months, on her twenty-fifth, she’s going back in time to 1943 to meet me on mine. And it…didn’t seem like she knew until she was already there.”

“So you’ve just been holding it in this whole time?” Natasha asked. “You’ve been in love with her…”

“Since the forties, yeah.” Steve nodded. “My great lost love, as Tony likes to call her when he rags on the band I wear.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Just you. And Bucky.” Steve amended. “He was there when she…”

“Right. Weird.” Natasha let out a long sigh, looking through the window. Her fingers reached for her own cuff. She hesitated, but pulled it off, holding her soulmark out to him. “Fair is fair.”

Steve stared at the letters for a long time, realization slowly filling his eyes. The name on her wrist was none other than James Buchannan Barnes. “Oh my God.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you until all the dust settled, but it just settled, so…” She shrugged, putting the cuff back on. “I’ll figure out how to tell him, too, if he doesn’t know already.”

“Buck’s mark was grayed out back then. We thought…well, we didn’t know what it meant.” Steve said, shaking his head. It was the reason Bucky had dated around so much back then. He’d figured if he just found someone else, his mark would change and he wouldn’t have to be alone. Never could he have guessed what it actually meant, that his soulmate wouldn’t be born for another forty or so years. “And then he lost his arm…”

“Yeah, that part I did know.” She smirked. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on her. Let you know if she says anything you need to hear.”

“She probably thinks my soulmate is dead, too. Everyone else does.”

“Ironic.”

“No kidding.” Steve sighed, gazing longingly through the window.

“We’ll get you through it, Steve. You’ve waited seventy years. Six months is nothing.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna sit with her for a while. I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

He slinked back into the infirmary and sat in the chair beside your bed, watching your steady breaths and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. Natasha watched him through the window, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time. Nevertheless, she was glad they had talked. At least now, they could be there for each other.

Vol. 2 Here

Tags: @cap-lu20

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate au #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #marvel #mcu #avengers

229 notes · View notes

it-happened-one-fic · 7 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.

75 notes · View notes

realmsalot · 7 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.

82 notes · View notes

peachhcs · 13 days ago

Note

begging on my hands and knees everyday for more james and hannah, i’ll take sneaky link era, i’ll take them figuring their shit out, i’ll take their first hangout with everyone and everyone reacting to their boss lady and guy that does what she says dynamic for the first time. i’ll take anything honestly they are my new hyper fixation.

ayeeee becoming active again means answering my month old asks. apologies to whoever asked this so many eons ago 🙏 here's when hannah and james weren't quite public nor official yet and he makes a trip to michigan when samy is away for the weekend for a game and he has to hide in the stands of hannah's meet so no one recognizes him

classes are officially OVER so you all know that means i'm back and ready to supply with new fics and requests. thanks for sticking this out with me through my hiatus 🤗

au masterlist

with samy out in california for a soccer game, hannah had the whole apartment to herself for the entire weekend. her whole plan started as just using the time to study, cleaning up a bit, and just unwinding by herself since the start of the semester had been so hectic.

oh, how fast that changed.

hannah mentioned to james that she'd be alone this weekend, not thinking much of it. the next thing she knew he was texting her telling her he was currently boarding a plane for detroit. it quickly dawned on the brunette that james, her..whatever they were..was coming to michigan. to see her. for the whole weekend.

they would be by themselves for the whole weekend.

it felt so, so wrong to go behind samy's back like that. her and hannah were friends since day one. they told each other almost everything, besides this of course. and hannah wanted to tell samy about james but she just didn't know howm especially when the two didn't even know what exactly they were.

so hannah just decided not to tell samy. the girl would be in california the whole weekend. the younger duke sister would make the apartment look like james wasn't even there when he left sunday morning.

it was just a matter of making sure everyone else in ann arbor would not find out james was there because of her. not that it was hard or anything, but it was already going to be a hurdle because her parents were in town to watch her meet which meant tyler would be there and that meant his hockey friends would be there and that meant hannah needed to make sure james would be as unrecognizable as possible.

"i feel like they're gonna know it's me," james stated as he threw on a michigan hoodie and one of many baseball hats hannah owned.

"i mean..the only person you really know is tyler and maybe he won't see you if you sit far enough away from them," hannah bit her lip though because she was a little afraid of people finding out about her and james.

not because she was ashamed, but more because they didn't even know what they were and agreed to keep it a secret. plus, tyler might rip one to james if he knew he was dating his twin sister.

"hey, don't worry. no one is gonna find out," james caught her worry fast. he cupped her face with his hand, a reassuring look on his features so she would mirror them.

she leaned into his touch, but not too much because she just did all of her makeup. "i know, i know. i think it's just all around nerves."

"you're gonna be awesome out there. i don't know a gymnast better than you," the boy praised earning a blush on hannah's cheeks.

he leaned in to press a gentle, but loving kiss to her lips. he was definitely taking off all her lip gloss, but hannah didn't care. she loved kissing him and seeing his own lips have a shine to them afterwards. sure enough when she pulled away, james' lips were stained with her berry gloss.

"you taste like berries," the boy pointed out.

"yeah, you have some now," she reached up to swipe his bottom lip. the hockey player blushed a bit.

"good," james pecked her lips one last time before letting her go because she had to be at the arena soon.

"i'll see you later. you know how to get over there right?" hannah started collecting her bag.

"yup, don't worry. i'll call you if there's problems."

they exchanged one last goodbye (or more like 2 or 3) before hannah escaped her apartment. she walked with some of her teammates who lived close by, temporarily forgetting about the boy in her apartment as she started preparing for the meet.

the stands were pretty full like usual. michigan gymnastics was quite popular amongst the students, so the girls always got a good turnout whenever they were at home. hannah scanned the stands for her parents and brother during warmups. she spotted them in one of the middle rows and waved. tyler brought a handful of hockey boys with him like usual. she could make out moldy, tj, ethan, mark, and luca who also all waved and jumped up like crazy when the girl saw them.

hannah grinned and without being too obvious, tried finding where james ended up. between all of the other students and michigan fans, it was hard to spot him in the maize and blue.

she almost worried he didn't make it in until she finally found the hat he was wearing on the complete other side of the stands. he was sitting middle, hat pulled pretty low over his eyes, but she knew it was him. a tiny smile graced her lips before looking away so she didn't draw any attention to him.

the gymnast almost felt giddy with the idea of having her..situationship (?) hiding in the stands so he wouldn't get recognized by the other hockey players and student population in general. everyone always knew when hannah was talking to a guy, so this was a first for her.

james' gaze found where hannah's parents and brother was sitting across the stands. he figured that they wouldn't pick him out of the crowd being on the other side, but he kept his hat low just in case and tried to blend in as best as possible. his eyes were on hannah anyway, watching her warm up in her events which seemed like she was all-around today. the hockey player always got nervous when she was all-around because it was more chances she might hurt herself, but he also knew hannah was trained in this and injuries were low chances for the most part.

the meet began shortly after warmups finished. james used the screaming of the student section to also cheer when hannah was anounced. the duke sister waved to everyone with a wide smile and james couldn't help but think how much she fit in with everyone down there. it made sense why she loved it so much because he's never seen such a glow on her face besides right now.

michigan started with vault and james was on the perfect side for a good view of the dismount.

it was no secret how good the michigan girls were at gymnastics. it was why they drew such a big crowd at every meet, but even from vault, james could telll why they were nationally ranked in the top 10 DI college teams. the girls were good.

when hannah's turn came james' gaze never left her. her parents and brother from the other side also cheered her on with excitement. vault wasn't hannah's favorite or specialty, but she was still damn good at it.

she stuck the landing which earned a lot of cheering from her teammates and student section. james jumped up as well, one weight off his chest because the first event was over. the event he was most excited to see bars because it was hannah's favorite and also the one she was really good at. she was a gold medalist in this event. although, it also stressed james out because it was the scariest event in his opinion.

hannah was anchoring the group in bars like usual. james ended up catching her gaze when she glanced in his direction. a soft smile sat on his lips as a small gesture of encouragement. hannah returned it before looking away so no one caught onto who she was looking at. the boy glanced up to where her family was and luckily, no one seemed to really notice who she may be looking at.

when it was finally the brunette’s turn james literally held his breath as soon as she swung on. she was in the air not even seconds later. it made sense why bars was her best event because james had never seen a routine more clean and perfect as hers. she swung through her passes like a pro, hardly even missing a beat as she pointed her toes and straightened her legs within milliseconds of grabbing the next bar. his breath still hadn’t left his chest though because hannah needed to have a successful landing for him to breathe again.

she made her last pass and then geared up to make her dismount. she did three big swings before spinning off the bar and landing square on the mat. she didn’t even stumble or anything as she spun around to signal to the judges that she was finished.

more cheers erupted in the stands for hannah's successful routine and landing, always so elegant and graceful. james breathed easier now that she was back on the ground.

as suspected, hannah got almost close to a perfect score, 9.998 which was around the same as her vault. her teammates clapped her on the back for pushing michigan ahead of their opponents. the girl flushed at all of the praise and people in the stands chanting her name.

the rest of the meet went smoothly and hannah’s near perfect scores earned michigan their win. no wonder why she was an all-around because she definitely proved how good she was at all of the events in general.

james snuck out of the stands before someone started talking to him. he knew hannah would be caught up with her family and brother’s hockey friends so he decided to just head back to her apartment with the spare key to wait for her there. however, the two weren’t as sneaky as they hoped because moldy was the one who pulled the girl to the side to ask about it.

“you got eyes for someone nowadays?” the hockey player smirked. hannah played dumb though.

“what are you talking about?” she laughed.

“i saw you looking at the other side of the stands,” nick nudged her arm, the smirk still on his lips. he was like ryan and gabe were to samy who knew everything about her after becoming so close their freshman year when he loved a floor above her and samy.

“you’re funny,” the brunette shook her head.

“it doesn’t..happen to be one of the bc hockey guys does it?” nick said and hannah snapped her head back to him, shock written on all of her features.

“how did you..”

“i’m not that blind, duker. he’s pretty recognizable,” nick shrugged. “you can always pick out a hockey player in a crowd.”

“okay..well, don’t tell anyone. we’re not even..” hannah trailed off when she noticed the other guys looking in their direction.

“i got you. who’d i even tell anyway?” the taller boy smiled.

“my brother?” hannah said like it was obvious but nick shook his head. he left it at that as he casually rejoined the group while hannah’s parents took their turn congratulating her.

“you did so good, honey! congrats on winning!” her mom squeezed her daughter tighter.

“thanks mom. thanks for coming, it means a lot,” the girl grinned. a lot of the times, her parents had to pick which event they’d be at and most times, they chose dylan or tyler, so it was good to see them here tonight.

“we wanna take you out for dinner if that’s okay? celebrate your win!” sharon exclaimed and hannah grimaced. she knew james would be able to handle himself for a few hours, but she felt bad leaving him alone.

but her parents only came down so much…she’d just text the boy to apologize and promised she’d spend the rest of the night with him.

“yeah, that sounds great,” hannah quickly grinned and pulled her phone out to shoot a quick text.

hannah

got pulled for dinner, sorry!!!

hope you’ll be okay by yourself for a few hours promise i’ll be back soon!!

james

don’t worry i’ll be good!

have fun w ur parents :)

the girl smiled at his text before shoving her phone away and head to dinner with her family and brother’s friends.

—

the group parted ways when hannah’s parents dropped her and nick off by their apartment complex. coincidentally, nick lived in the same building as her and hannah again.

“so, how’d this whole thing start with haggy? i thought you didn’t date?” nick wondered while the gymnast blushed.

“i..i don’t…not really. i don’t know. we started talking over the summer kind of. i guess he’s liked me for..awhile,” hannah explained.

“so it’s like hookup?” it always sounded so bad putting it that way.

“maybe? i don’t know. yeah?” the girl flushed.

“do you like him?”

that was a scary question hannah always hated hearing. whenever someone asked her that it always made her freeze up. she wasn’t someone who liked people in that way. she liked them, sure, but more as something fun and never serious. whatever her and james had thought was starting to feel way different than anything else.

“yeah?” hannah said unsurely.

“that doesn’t sound sure,” nick raised his eyebrow and stopped as they made it to the front door of the building.

“i don’t even really know. you know how i am. i don’t go all in but..something about this is different. i..i wouldn’t mind..going all in,” her words brought a smile to nick’s lips.

“that’s a first coming from you, duker. i respect it though. he seems like a good guy so i’m not worried if something does end up happening,” nick chuckled while hannah shook her head.

they made their way inside to the elevator. hannah pressed 4 while nick pressed 7.

“well, my lips are sealed. i won’t tell,” nick agreed which hannah appreciated.

“i owe you,” she giggled as the door slid open to floor 4. she waved goodnight to nick and made her way down the hallway to her apartment. her and samy had a cat welcome mat at the front door that was dirty from when samy walked in with muddy sneakers after a rainy practice.

it was dark besides a small light from the hallway. hannah quietly shut the door and followed the soft glow to her bedroom. james was already tucked into her bed looking half asleep on his phone. his gaze bounced to her when she stepped into the doorway.

“oh, hey. sorry, i got tired,” he mumbled. the girl smiled.

“sorry to keep you up,” she hummed, kicking her shoes off and dropping her bag onto the ground.

“it’s fine. how was dinner?” james threw his phone down and made room in her bed for her.

hannah crawled in even though her hair was still up and she was in her warm up t-shirt and sweatpants. “it was good. my parents are good. brother is good.”

“good, i’m glad. you did really good today,” the hockey player complimented earning a bright blush on hannah’s cheeks.

“thank you. it was nice finally having you there.”

james smiled, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. his eyes were dangerously close to closing again, but he wrapped his arm around her torso to bring her closer. hannah immediately snuggled into him without a second thought. it was..freeing to not have to worry about someone seeing them in the moment and they had the whole apartment to themselves for another day.

“i should make more spontaneous visits more often,” james mumbled sleepily.

“yeah, you should,” the duke sister agreed. she’d take having him here over anything and that was saying a lot.

the meet wiped her out, so it didn’t take long for hannah to fall asleep once james finally shut his eyes. they stayed wrapped up in one another the whole night.

21 notes · View notes

lovetaroandtaemin · 3 months ago

Text

Incomparable Beauty

Bae Joohyun x Reader

Word Count: 12,966

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, fantasy AU

Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!

Summary: You're a princess of the Galestorm Empire that's engaged to Prince Arthur of Eledath. You bonds with Prince Arthur quickly, but his mother, Queen Irene, immediately dislikes you. After disaster strikes, however, you and the queen grow closer, resulting in a night neither of you will forget.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. Arranged marriage, jealousy, terrible revenge plots, unwanted suggestive flirting, generally unsettling men, murder (poison), mentions of war but no details, major character death (not Irene or the reader), detailed descriptions of grief, religious themes, age gap relationship (Reader is written to be in her early 20s and Irene is written to be in her mid 40s), infidelity, NSFW content (making out, unprotected sex, dom!Irene, some breast play, oral (f. recieving), use of a strap-on, some degradation and praise, a little bit of biting). If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

A/N: This fic is part of the "Once Upon A Time" collab hosted by the amazing @nothoughtsjustfic!!! The fairy tale I chose as my inspiration was Snow White. I hope you guys like it! If you do, be sure to check out the collab masterlist, which is linked here. So many incredible writers are involved with this collab, and I definitely recommend showing them some support!

I also want to take a second and acknowledge the absolutely incredible @diamonddaze01, who made the banner for this fic. Thank you so much, Tara! If y'all like the banner as much as I do, definitely go show her blog some love!

Taglist: @xomakara

Fic is under the cut.

You knew exactly how your life would go from the moment you were old enough to understand your status as princess of the Galestorm Empire. From the time you were a young girl, your parents told you in no uncertain terms that you would be married off to a prince of whichever nearby kingdom your father wanted an alliance with, produce an heir, and live the rest of your days as a dutiful wife, loving mother, and dedicated queen. It was the life that you were born into, and though there were times that you desperately wanted to live your life on your own terms, you were determined to play your role to the best of your ability.

After your twenty-first birthday passed, you knew it was a matter of time before you would be engaged. So, when your mother came to you a few days after your birthday and told you that you were to be married to the Crown Prince Arthur of Eledath, you weren’t exactly surprised. You couldn’t really say that you liked your now-fiancé, considering that you’d never even met him before, but you still hoped that you could grow to love him one day.

As soon as your engagement was made official, you spent months learning as much as you could about Eledath, from its history and geography to cultural customs and court etiquette. In all honesty, you found the lessons boring, with none of the information you learned making the hours-long lectures worth it. However, you knew that they were necessary. After all, what kind of future queen would you be if you just showed up in a new country and made no effort to fit in or treat others with respect?

Once the team of tutors that had traveled from Eledath for your lessons deemed you ready, you packed all that you could and made the journey to your new home. Goldmyst Palace was said to be the home of fashion in Eledath, with everyone in the kingdom looking to Queen Irene and the rest of the ladies in court as icons of culture. Even outside of Eledath, neighboring kingdoms took inspiration from Queen Irene and her brilliant approach to personal style.

You had to admit, you were incredibly nervous to meet your now-fiancé’s parents. King John and Queen Irene had a well-earned reputation for being intimidating, and even the citizens of the Galestorm Empire knew that it was a bad idea to get on the Eledath royal family’s bad side.

When you arrived at Goldmyst, it seemed like the entire kingdom was at the palace’s gates to welcome their prince’s new fiancée. The crowd was a little bit overwhelming, to be honest, but it was nothing you hadn’t experienced before. After all, you’d made more than your fair share of public appearances at various meetings and festivals as princess of the Galestorm Empire. As you actually got past the gates, however, you realized that you were in over your head.

Goldmyst was easily twice as big as Sunrider Castle, where you grew up, and there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that there were three times as many people going about their business inside. As you waited to find out what the next step of starting your new life would be, you couldn’t help but wonder why there were so many people and what they possibly could have been doing. Some of them were carrying tools of their trades, so you could easily identify the cooks, blacksmiths, and cleaning staff, but others you couldn’t quite figure out.

You were distracted from your observations by an unfamiliar voice calling your name. You turned around to see who it was, and you saw one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen. She wore an opulent gown that was made with the most luxurious-looking fabric you’d ever seen and covered with the finest pearls that money could buy. Every single thing about her made you stop and stare in complete awe, from the delicate crown on her head to her features that looked like they were sculpted by the goddess of beauty herself.

You knew before she even introduced herself that you were standing in front of Queen Irene.

“Your majesty,” you said with a curtsy, “I apologize if I kept you waiting.”

“It’s alright. Welcome to Goldmyst Palace, my dear. Would you like me to show you around and introduce you to my son?”

“That would be lovely, your majesty.”

“Then come with me.”

The queen showed you the location of every room in the palace that you had permission to enter, telling you about the history and purpose of each room as she went. As you looked around the vast and elegant spaces and watched people moving through them like they were meant to be there, not a single person looking out of place, you couldn’t help but hope that you could fit into this world one day, too.

The tour ended with Prince Arthur’s quarters, which were adjacent to the area of the palace that you would be staying in. It was there that you finally met your fiancé. He was conventionally attractive, something that you were embarrassed to admit you’d hoped for, and he looked to be very athletic, with a slim and muscular build. You couldn’t help but notice the way he avoided your eyes as you entered, however.

“Hello,” you said with yet another curtsy, “My name is (Y/N). It’s an honor to be your fiancée.”

“It’s an honor to be yours as well, my lady,” Arthur replied before kissing your hand, clearly more nervous than he wanted to admit. “Would you like to stay and play cards?”

“That sounds lovely.”

“I’ll give you two some privacy, then,” Irene said, turning toward the door.

“Wait, your majesty, please.”

The queen turned back to you with a look of confusion on her face and asked, “What is it, dear?”

“Thank you for the tour. I appreciate that you took time out of your busy schedule to show me around and make me feel welcome here.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Have fun with Arthur,” she said before she left the room.

From the moment Irene laid eyes on you, she didn’t like you. Every word that left your mouth sounded like you were reading from a script, you looked like a mess, and you were simply too naïve for your own good. Still, the queen knew better than to make snap judgements, so she decided that she would wait and see what you were like after you adjusted to life in court.

After Irene left the room, and you were alone with Arthur, an awkward silence filled the room. You wanted to say something, but you really didn’t know what. Based on the way he opened his mouth to speak and stopped himself, it seemed like Arthur wasn’t quite sure either. In the end, hoping to cut through the tension that had started to build, you decided to utilize some advice that your mother gave you before you left: when you want someone to open up to you, start by asking them about what makes them happy and really listen to what they have to say.

“So, Arthur, what makes you happiest in life?”

Your fiancée thought for a moment before he answered, “Art.”

“Why do you like it?”

“I think I’ve just always enjoyed making things. When I was a boy, I gravitated toward woodworking, but I lost interest as I got older. Now, I spend as much of my free time as I can painting and composing songs. Those aren’t exactly considered suitable hobbies for a future king, though, so my parents always try their best to steer me toward something else whenever they see me doing them.”

You softened as you heard Arthur speak about his hobbies. With a smile, you responded, “Can I see your paintings?”

He hesitated for a moment before he said, “Sure. I’ve converted one of the smaller rooms that’s attached to this one to a small gallery. I can show you, if you’d like.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Follow me,” he said, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

You followed Arthur to a corner of the room that you wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t pointed it out to you. He started to search the wall for something, which you found odd at first. It all started to make sense, however, when you heard a click as he touched a certain part of the wall. You had to admit that you were a bit startled by the bookshelf on the adjacent wall starting to move when he pushed the button, though.

You were hesitant to go through the newly opened passage at first, but when Arthur turned back toward you with the same mischievous smile as before, you were inclined to trust him. Sure, it probably wasn’t wise to trust a man that you just met, especially when he tried to lead you through a secret passage, but the man that you’d just met was your fiancé, after all. You would have to trust him if you were going to marry him.

You followed Arthur through the cramped passage into a small room filled with the most beautiful paintings that you’d ever seen. He had a unique ability to capture the essence of every subject, from human to animal or even plant, and make them look as if they were about to jump right off of the canvas. His attention to detail was astonishing, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful that he already trusted you enough to let you see the things that he created.

“Thank you for showing me this,” you said.

“Thank you for caring to see it.”

There was a short moment of silence after he spoke, though it wasn’t as awkward as it was before he started to open up to you. You were the first one to break the silence once again when you said, “I seem to remember being promised a card game,” a soft smile gracing your features.

“That you were. Shall we?”

“We shall.”

You and Arthur made your way back through the secret passage, and he closed the door by pressing the same button that had opened it. You wanted to ask him more about the passage, but you figured that it was a bad time. Besides, you were actually quite excited to play a game with him.

While Arthur taught you to play his favorite card game, the two of you got to know each other far better. He promised to play you some of his compositions next time the two of you were alone together, and you told him a bit more about your own hobbies.

“What do you like to do for fun, (Y/N)?” he asked, hoping to get you to open up the same way he’d opened up to you.

“I love to sew. I learned from my governess as a child. I took to it like a fish to water, as she would say.”

“Why do you like it?”

“The quiet time spent creating is good for my mood, and I enjoy being able to make things for myself instead of relying on others. I actually made most of the clothes that I brought with me here.”

“That’s amazing. You’re quite talented.”

“So are you.”

As the game went on, you no longer viewed Arthur as a stranger. You wouldn’t necessarily say that you were in love with him like you’d hoped, but you were definitely beginning to consider him a friend. When you saw the way he smiled at you after you beat him at the game, you felt safe in the assumption that he was starting to view you the same way.

Life in Goldmyst Palace was vastly different from your upbringing at Sunrider Castle, so it took you quite some time to adjust to your new home. While the etiquette wasn’t necessarily stricter than back home, it was quite different. For example, when you had meals at Sunrider, it was customary to wait until everyone at your table was finished eating to leave. At Goldmyst, you had to get used to the fact that you were permitted to go back to your quarters as soon as you were done eating. You tried to remember all the rules right away, but it would have been a lie to say that you didn’t struggle at first.

Irene saw the way you struggled over the course of your first few weeks at Goldmyst and desperately tried to convince her husband that you weren’t a good enough match for Arthur. John tended to wave her off, however, citing how powerful the Galestorm Empire was and how beneficial the match would be for Eledath. What the king didn’t know, however, was that there was another reason for Irene’s dislike of you. It made sense that he didn’t know, though. After all, how could he know about the things that his wife did while he slept if she didn’t tell him?

When the queen disappeared into her private chambers after her husband went to bed, she consulted her closest advisor: an enchanted mirror that she received as a wedding gift from her mother. It was charmed to always give a truthful answer when asked a question, no matter what it was, and she treasured its advice.

When Irene was certain that no one else would hear her whispers, she asked the mirror for advice in maintaining her appearance, as well as asking who the most beautiful woman in the kingdom was. Every night, without fail, the mirror would respond that she was the most beautiful and help her keep it that way. Since you’d arrived at Goldmyst Palace, however, the mirror had begun to give her a different answer.

“Magic mirror in my hand, who is the most beautiful woman in the land?” Irene asked, desperate for a different answer than the night before.

“As much as I wish I could say that it is you, my queen,” the voice within the mirror began, “it is not. You know as well as I that the answer to your question is (Y/N).”

“Isn’t there something that you could tell me that could help me surpass her once again?”

“I am afraid there is not.”

Already growing frustrated with its lack of assistance, she said, “I should smash you to bits,” and put the mirror away.

Once the mirror was tucked away, Irene went to bed in hopes of getting some beauty rest. She spent hours trying to sleep before giving up and thinking about the things that she could do to restore her position as the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. However, since the mirror decided not to give her any actual advice this time, she decided to just handle the situation herself.

What Irene really wanted to do was send you back to the Galestorm Empire and call off the engagement entirely. Her husband would never allow that, however, considering how important their allyship would be in times of war. The next thing that Irene thought about doing was disposing of you the old-fashioned way. The moment the thought crossed her mind; however, she decided against it, considering it too drastic. In the end, she settled on something much more satisfying, anyway: simple revenge.

While Irene was planning her revenge over the mirror’s declaration, you were finding yourself growing closer to Arthur than you originally thought that you would. As you became more comfortable at Goldmyst Palace, you found yourself spending as much time as possible with your fiancé and actually enjoying his company.

Your favorite way to spend time with Arthur was to watch him paint while you attended to garments that needed to be mended. As each of you worked on your respective projects, you would ask each other questions about them, as well as discussing whatever came to mind, like your upcoming wedding.

“Can I ask you something?” Arthur inquired as he painted a flower.

“Of course. What is it?”

“What kind of wedding do you want?”

The question made you stop and think for longer than you would have liked. Truthfully, you’d never really thought about the matter. Until Arthur asked, you assumed that you wouldn’t really get to have a say. The more you thought about it, however, the more you realized that you did have a few ideas for what you wanted your wedding to be like.

“I think I’d like to have lots of flowers. A large bouquet, flowers decorating the entire hall, just, flowers everywhere. I’d also like to make my own dress, if possible.”

“Are you sure? That seems like a difficult job.”

“It will be, but that’s why I want to do it.”

“I admire your persistence, (Y/N).”

“Thank you.”

“I admire you.” Arthur’s voice was softer as he spoke this time, as if he was nervous about your response.

“I admire you as well.”

There was a moment of silence after that, since both of you were unsure of how to continue the conversation. Arthur was the first to break it this time, however, by asking, “May I kiss you?”

You nodded, placing the stockings that you were mending to the side, and Arthur carefully placed his brush in a cup that was set up by his easel. He seemed hesitant at first, but the moment his lips met yours, he melted into you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and he let out a soft sigh.

Your intimate moment with Arthur was interrupted by a knock on your door and Irene’s voice saying, “(Y/N)! I need to speak with you about something!”

You quickly pulled away, picking up your mending to appear like you weren’t just doing something that your fiancé’s mother may not approve of. “Come in!” you called.

Irene opened the door and found an empty chair to sit in before she said, “We need to discuss your wardrobe,” holding back a smile as she set her plan to make you look bad into motion.

“Is something that I’ve worn inappropriate?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

Irene then went on to explain that some of your gowns were a bit too extravagant to wear out and about in the palace. When you asked why, she didn’t exactly give you a solid answer, though. Regardless, you agreed to hide the gowns that she said you couldn’t wear in the back of your closet.

The first part of Irene’s plan to make you look bad backfired spectacularly.

Instead of your lack of opulent bejeweled gowns like the other women in the palace making you look frumpy and uninspired, like she’d hoped, you were the talk of the palace. Everyone that saw you spoke of how you didn’t need to rely on elaborate gowns to make yourself look good, since you were so naturally beautiful already, and how they loved your creativity when it came to simple yet dazzling accessories.

Irene was enraged by the failure of step one of her plan, but she still had hope for step two. Step two of her plan was to give you the worst makeup in her personal collection. There was a lot in Irene’s extensive makeup selection that she had wanted to get rid of for some time, since they were of atrocious quality, but she didn’t really have a means to do so in a manner that wasn’t wasteful. At least, she didn’t until you came along.

You had no idea that when Irene gave you her old makeup, she was trying to sabotage you. You honestly thought that she was trying to help you fit in, and you greatly appreciated the gesture. While you’d gotten better at remembering the rules of the court, you still felt out of place in most situations, and a friendly face was exactly what you needed. Sure, you had Arthur, and you appreciated his companionship, but having another woman looking out for you helped your spirits immensely.

The old makeup also did nothing to make you appear any less beautiful according to the nobles of Goldmyst Palace. In fact, you were praised for your skills in applying it, and it was yet another reason for you to be the talk of the palace. Your fiancé was especially vocal about your beauty, spending every moment that the two of you were together complimenting you. The compliments you received from Arthur as well as everyone else at court greatly improved your mood, and you finally started to feel like you belonged.

The fact that nothing was working only got more and more frustrating for Irene. In the end, desperate and unsure of what else to do, she decided to consult her mirror again. Once again, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. It gave her the same answers as before, and she was angry, to say the least. She was also desperate though, and that meant that she was willing to try anything. Even the drastic measures that the mirror was about to suggest.

The suggestion came when she was just about to put the mirror away for the night. With an exasperated sigh, she said, “God, I just don’t know what to do. I can’t get rid of her, and-”

“You could, my queen.”

“What do you mean? I can’t send her back to the Galestorm Empire.”

“That’s not the only way to get rid of her,” the mirror replied matter-of-factly.

Irene let out a frustrated groan and responded, “Don’t you think that’s too drastic?”

“It would solidify your place as the most beautiful woman in the kingdom once again. Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what your mother always taught you to strive to be?”

“You do have a point,” Irene mumbled. From the moment she was old enough to understand speech, her mother instilled one core philosophy: maintain your beauty, and the world will give you everything that you could ever want. She was also taught from an early age to never settle for second place, and she was growing increasingly desperate, so she couldn’t help but consider what the mirror was implying that she should do.

“Very well,” Irene said with another reluctant sigh. “How do you suggest I do it?”

“Poison. If you do it right, it will look like an accident, and there will be no ugly wounds on her corpse.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll figure everything out tomorrow. Thank you for your help, mirror.”

“You’re welcome, my queen.”

With that, Irene put the mirror back in its rightful place and went to bed. For the first time in far too long, she didn’t struggle to fall asleep. Instead, she dreamt of being the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom of Eledath again.

The next morning came, and as soon as her official duties for the day were done, Irene went directly to the royal library to search for a book about poisons. As she began to wander and examine each shelf, however, she realized that it would probably be much harder to find than she originally anticipated. Of course, she knew that it wouldn’t be right out in the open, but she’d started out hopeful that she wouldn’t have to spend an eternity searching for the book that she needed. As time went on, however, and she didn’t find anything even close to what she was looking for, she started to lose that hope.

Just when Irene was about to give up and find some other way to get rid of you, she found exactly what she needed. It was in the furthest corner of the library, covered in dust that indicated that it hadn’t been touched in years.

The title of the book was in a language that Irene didn’t quite understand, but something in her gut told her that it would prove to be useful. As she flipped through its pages, her gut instinct was proven correct. There were detailed instructions for a variety of poisons. Some of them caused slow, painful deaths, while others were for quick “mercy killings” that could easily be mistaken for something else.

After what felt like hours of looking through the book, Irene decided on a tasteless, odorless potion that could mimic the symptoms of a heart attack if made correctly. Since she had a plan, the next thing she did was start to gather ingredients. The palace had everything needed to make the potion somewhere on the grounds, which she was incredibly grateful for. After all, it would have been difficult to explain why she needed to travel if she couldn’t tell anyone what she was using the ingredients for.

A few courtiers and members of the palace staff asked Irene what she was gathering supplies for, but all she had to do to get them off her back was tell them that she was making an experimental beauty treatment that she’d heard about. Even the most beauty-conscious noblewomen in the palace left her alone, considering they didn’t want to be involved if the “experimental treatment” was a failure.

Once she had all of the ingredients, she carefully combined them, following the instructions in the book to the letter. Every step was completed with precision as she thought about potential explanations for your sudden passing, like the stress of adjusting to living in a different country getting to you or some kind of freak accident.

Irene’s plan was absolutely perfect. She mixed the potion into an otherwise ordinary glass of wine before bringing it to your chambers. With a fake smile plastered onto her face, she said, “I’ve noticed that you’ve been a bit stressed since your arrival here. I thought that some wine and company would help ease some of that stress.”

“Thank you, your majesty. You’ve been very kind to me since I arrived, and I greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course, dear. It’s clear that Arthur cares for you very deeply, and if he’s happy, I’m happy.”

“I care for him very deeply as well.”

The realization that you weren’t lying anymore when you said that you cared for Arthur caught you by surprise, in all honesty. From the moment you arrived, you were certain that your fiancé would be an acquaintance to you and nothing else, at least behind closed doors. Your preconceived notions fell apart, however, as you actually spent more time with him. After all, he was kind and intelligent, never failing to amaze you with the way he cared for other people or seemed to always know the answer when someone at court asked him a question.

Your thoughts of Arthur were interrupted by Irene calling your name.

“I’m sorry, your majesty. What were you saying?”

“Please, call me Irene. There’s no need to be so formal when it’s just us, dear. I just asked if you and Arthur have discussed wedding plans at all.”

“Well, truthfully, we haven’t talked about it much. I was actually hoping to arrange a meeting with you and your husband to discuss it.”

“I’ll discuss it with John when he’s done with his meetings for the day.”

“Thank y-”

Your conversation with Irene was cut short by the king arriving and requesting his wife’s presence. “Irene, my love, will you join me for a moment?” he inquired, “There’s an urgent matter that I need to discuss with you.”

“Of course, darling,” Irene began. Then, she turned to you and said, “I’ll come back as soon as I can, dear. Please, enjoy your wine.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

Irene left with her husband, and you were just about to take a sip of the wine that Irene brought you when someone knocked on your door. Not expecting company, you opened it cautiously. Upon opening the door, you saw a man that you didn’t recognize. All you really knew for sure was that he was older, at least sixty years old based on his physical appearance, and rich (or at least faking it), based on the expensive clothes that he wore.

With an unsettling smile, he said, “Greetings, princess. I’m Lord Edward. May I come in?”

Every bone in your body screamed to tell him to leave you alone, but you worried for your safety if he didn’t like your answer. So, you quietly said, “Of course. It’s nice to meet you, Lord Edward.”

You moved out of the way to let Lord Edward into your chambers, and he strolled in like they were his own. He even took a drink of the wine that Irene had brought to your room earlier, which was incredibly upsetting. The man in your room seemed to have no concept of politeness and common decency, and every moment alone with him made you uncomfortable. You were nothing if not polite to everyone that you met, however, so, you suffered through it. Hopefully, the end of your time with him would come sooner rather than later.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Lord Edward cleared his throat. “So, young lady,” he began, “would you like to spend some time in the garden with me? There’s a special seed that was recently imported that I’d very much like to show you.”

At that point, you decided that you’d had enough, politeness be damned. You felt unsafe in his presence, and you were already growing tired of hiding behind false kindness. So, you firmly said, “No thank you, sir. I’d like to stay here.

“Come on, princess. You don’t want me to show you a good time before your wedding?”

“No, I don’t. Please leave now.”

“I really would like to stay. We just met, after all, so we should get to know each other a little bit.”

“I said, leave!” you yelled, fear and anger evident in your voice.

Almost immediately after you shouted at Lord Edward to leave, he clutched his chest and groaned, a look of pain etched onto his features. Unsure of what was happening or how to help, you swiftly left your room to find the royal physician. It took you longer than you’d hoped, since he wasn’t in his room, but you did eventually find him.

By the time you got back to your chambers with the royal physician, however, it was too late for Lord Edward. He was motionless on your floor, and the royal physician said, “I think he’s gone, your grace.”

What happened next was a blur. The royal physician called for the coroner, and the king and queen were notified of Lord Edward’s death. At one point you were pretty sure that you were asked questions by the coroner, but you couldn’t remember any of them. Everything was moving too fast for you to keep up, and you were riddled with guilt over the fact that you didn’t get the royal physician back to your chambers in time.

Irene was livid that the wine meant for you had taken Lord Edward’s life instead. Once again, her plan of getting rid of you had failed. Feeling defeated, she interpreted the event as a sign that she had to give up. After all, she’d tried everything that she could possibly think of, and everything she tried went horribly wrong in some way. So, in an attempt to avoid further casualties, she finally began to accept that she would just have to deal with you.

The fact that she had to deal with you being around didn’t mean that she had to like you, however. So, while she would be kind to your face for her son’s sake, she would not do more for you than she absolutely had to.

After Lord Edward’s passing, you noticed that Irene was far colder with you than usual, never paying attention to you or speaking to you beyond basic greetings or one-worded answers. You wanted to just ask her what you did wrong, why she wasn’t as warm to you as she had been, but it never seemed to be the right time.

The only thing you could possibly think of was that she blamed you for Lord Edward’s death. You couldn’t wrap your mind around why she could possibly think that, however. The royal coroner had declared the cause of death to be a heart attack, something that it would have been impossible for you to have a hand in. Still, Irene’s behavior only started to shift after his death, and you couldn’t think of any other reason for the change.

After spending a week wracking your brain for answers, you decided to try again to ask Irene what you did to change how she felt about you. You asked Arthur if he could ask his mother to meet with you on a day that you knew she wouldn’t be busy, and he happily agreed. About an hour later, he came back to you with a time that she would come to see you in your quarters.

The agreed-upon time came and went, and Irene was nowhere to be seen. As you waited for her to arrive, the frustration caused by the initial change in her behavior shifted to fully blown anger. You were livid that she couldn’t even show you enough basic decency to tell you what you’d done to upset her, and you were livid that she was nowhere to be seen at the time that she willingly agreed to see you.

After another few hours of waiting, you realized that you would probably just have to accept that she was treating you differently and hope that someday she would warm up to you again. You weren’t exactly sure if that would actually happen, but you had to let yourself have a little bit of hope that everything would be ok.

Your hope of palace life getting any better was quickly shattered the next morning when John, Irene, and Arthur all came to your chambers shortly after you woke up. You had a feeling that something was wrong based on the solemn expressions on their faces, and your suspicions were only confirmed when Arthur said, “Honey, there’s something that we need to speak to you about.”

“What is it?”

There was a brief silence as everyone tried to find the words to explain what had happened the day before. John was the first to break it, saying, “The kingdom of Terenassus has declared war, so Arthur and I will be leaving for the nearest military base shortly. We’re just here to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), but our wedding will have to wait until the war ends,” Arthur added sorrowfully.

With tears in your eyes, you said, “I understand,” and stood to hug Arthur. He embraced you like he never would again, and you leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “I expect you to come home safely, Arthur.”

“I will, I assure you. I love you.”

Your eyes started to water as you realized that this was the first time he’d told you that he loved you. With a deep breath, you replied, “I love you, too.”

You let go of your fiancé, and it was John’s turn to pull you into a hug. As he pulled away, he made eye contact with you and said, “I expect you to take care of my wife while I’m gone, (Y/N).”

“I will, your highness. I swear.”

“Thank you.”

John kissed Irene one more time, and he and Arthur left.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before you took yet another deep breath and said, “Are you ok, your majesty?”

Your question was all it took for the dam to break. Irene started to cry like you’d never seen her cry before, ruining her carefully applied makeup. You were sure that she would be upset when she realized, but this was definitely not the time to point it out. Regardless, you felt like you had to say something. Not knowing what else to do, you gave her a hug and said, “Would you like to come in?”

Through her tears, she replied, “That would be nice. Thank you, dear.”

You let go of Irene and moved out of the doorway to your chambers so that she could enter. Once she was inside, you carefully shut the door and asked, “Do you want to talk about how you’re feeling, or would you rather talk about something else to get your mind off of things?”

“I think I’d like to talk about something else, if that’s alright.”

“Of course. What would you like to talk about?”

“Well, how do you feel about life in the palace?”

With a sigh, you said, “It is quite different from what I expected. The way people interact is so different from the way I’m used to interacting with people back home. And, truthfully, I had a very specific picture of what I thought engaged life would be like that is very different from what actually happened.”

“Am I correct in assuming that means that you didn’t expect to enjoy Arthur’s company as much as you do?”

“If I’m being completely honest, yes. When I first arrived, I thought that we would be roommates that hardly spoke unless it was necessary. Now, I find myself missing him when he’s away and wanting to spend time with him even when we aren’t discussing wedding plans or attending official events together.”

“I had the same experience when John and I first met. I arrived certain that we would be acquaintances at best, and now I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. Except Arthur, of course, but the love a mother has for her son is different than the love a wife has for her husband.”

“What was Goldmyst Palace like when you first arrived?”

“Well, it was much smaller than it is now,” Irene recalled with a soft laugh. “John had a number of new wings built to show off when the kingdom first started to prosper. You know how kings are.”

“Yes, I do,” you laughed. “My father was always adding new things to various rooms in the castle back home.”

“What is it like in the Galestorm Empire?”

“It’s wonderful. The court etiquette is vastly different than it is here, and Sunrider Castle was very different than Goldmyst, but I loved it.” After a moment of silence, you asked, “Can I ask where you grew up?”

“I’m from Caerrowe. I was actually about your age when I moved here to marry John.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Our twenty-five-year anniversary is this summer.”

As you processed everything that Irene had told you, you couldn’t help but hope that your relationship with Arthur could be similar to the one that his parents had. If the way that John and Irene looked at each other when they thought that no one was watching them was any indication, they loved each other dearly. John also constantly surprised Irene with beautiful gifts from his travels outside of the kingdom, and Irene spent a significant amount of her free time with John, provided that he wasn’t busy with other things. They had a marriage that everyone in the kingdom wished that they had, and now you included yourself in that, too.

You and Irene continued to talk about your lives before moving to Eledath for what felt like hours after that, and by the end of your conversation, Irene looked noticeably lighter than when she first entered your chambers. You couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at the fact that you’d been able to provide some comfort in a difficult time, and you hoped that the solace you’d found in each other after Arthur and John left was a sign of a closer bond in the future.

Just like you’d hoped, you only grew closer to Irene as the war with Terenassus raged on. In the months since your fiancé and his father left to fight, your future mother-in-law had become your closest confidant. You shared stories from your childhood with her that you hadn’t even told your own parents, and you were immensely grateful to have someone to talk to that understood just how much you missed Arthur.

While your fiancé was away, you wrote him letters as often as you could. Sure, you knew that he probably wouldn’t receive them right away, but you still wanted to take the time to let him know that you loved him and that you were thinking of him. He responded to every letter that he received telling you the same, as well as sharing stories of the war and lamenting the fact that he had to wait longer than anticipated to marry you. Reading his desperation to finally marry you only made you want him to return sooner.

Things took a turn for the worse when you suddenly stopped receiving letters from Arthur with no explanation. You asked Irene if she’d heard from him, and she said that she hadn’t. She assured you that she would ask John for news of Arthur’s health, however, and it made you feel slightly better.

Weeks went by, and you still didn’t hear from Arthur. There was no news of him in John’s letters to Irene, either. You tried to reason with yourself, reminding yourself that men at war are often busy, which makes them forgetful, but it did nothing for your anxiety.

As the weeks turned to months, it got harder and harder to avoid thinking about the worst possible outcome. You tried desperately to suppress the thought that he had gotten hurt, or worse, but your mind loved to play tricks on you by letting your fears get the better of you. Despite your fear, however, you constantly reminded yourself to hold on to that little bit of hope that got you through the day, the hope that your fiancé would come home to you soon.

The next day, your hope was shattered. You woke up to a blood-curdling scream, followed by devastated sobs. When you realized that the sobs sounded like Irene’s, you ran to her chambers to find out what was going on, though deep down, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what had happened. Still, when you arrived, you asked, “What’s wrong, your majesty?”

“Arthur is gone.”

And just like that, your world collapsed.

“Depressed” did not even begin to describe the utter despair that filled every corner of your heart as you tried to process that you would never get to see your fiancé again. All you could do was collapse to the floor and shriek just as Irene had, too overcome by grief to even hold yourself upright.

This wasn’t how your life was supposed to go. Arthur was meant to come home safe and sound when the war ended, and the two of you were meant to go back to planning your wedding. You were meant to marry him and spend the rest of your life in the palace, helping Arthur take care of the citizens of Eledath with the same diligence his parents had. You were meant to have his children and spend your days that weren’t filled with meetings and official events caring for miniature manifestations of the love that the two of you had for each other.

You loved him, and you had no idea how to go on now that the life you were supposed to have with him was cut short.

A week after your world was turned upside down, John returned home with news that the war was over. When you saw him, you were relieved that he came home in one piece, even though he definitely had some new scars, both physical and emotional. A small part of you, however, resented him for coming home when Arthur never would. You hated yourself for even acknowledging the ugly emotions that sprung forward when you saw John and Irene for the first time after his return, but the envy and pain that you felt was all too real, and you knew that you’d never heal if you couldn’t admit that you felt the way you did.

After the king let go of his wife, he turned to you with tears in his eyes and a look of guilt on his face and said, “I’m so sorry.”

All you could do in response was sob.

Irene immediately pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back as you cried into her shoulder. You found some comfort in the gesture, despite the despair still threatening to swallow you whole. Once you felt like you couldn’t cry anymore, you let go of Irene and said, “I’m grateful that you returned home safely, your highness,” and left for your chambers so that you could be alone with your thoughts.

A few days after John returned to the palace, you requested a meeting with him and Irene at their earliest convenience. Their earliest convenience turned out to be immediately, and you couldn’t help but feel relief that you would get to share your new idea with them sooner rather than later. As you entered the meeting room, the advisors and other government officials left, citing some “official business” they had to attend to. You knew that they were probably just trying to give you privacy, though, most likely at John and Irene’s request.

Once you were alone with the king and queen, you began, “Your highness, your majesty,” curtsying as you spoke, “I have an idea that I’d like to discuss with you both regarding a memorial for Arthur.”

There was a moment of silence at the mention of the one thing no one in the room wanted to think about. Irene was the first to break it, urging, “(Y/N), dear, you don’t have to address us so formally. Especially when we’re speaking in private.”

“What’s your idea?” John chimed in.

“What if we organize a memorial gallery? I know where Arthur stored his paintings. I could display some of them in the grand hall during his funeral.”

Irene softened when she heard your idea and said, “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). I’m sure that he would love that,” John added, his voice breaking as he thought about his son. “Was there anything else that you wanted to discuss?”

“That was all. Thank you for listening.”

Another silence fell over the room as everyone got lost in their own thoughts. You didn’t know the specifics of what Irene and John were thinking about, but you had a strong feeling that their thoughts revolved around the same person that yours did. Not wanting to pry or bother them any further, you said, “I need to go. Thank you again for listening. I’ll let you know when I decide which paintings to display.”

“Thank you, dear,” Irene said, clearly trying not to cry.

You left the meeting room after that, desperate to be alone with your thoughts. When you got back to your chambers, you collapsed onto your bed and let yourself bawl until you couldn’t anymore as you found yourself once again thinking about the life that you should have had with Arthur.

Once your tears had run dry, at least for the day, you found yourself too exhausted to even begin to think about doing anything but sleeping. So, you allowed yourself to drift off, dreaming of the happy reunion that you wished that you could have.

When you woke up the next morning, you felt at least somewhat refreshed by the pleasant dream you’d had. So, you went right to Arthur’s chambers to decide which of his paintings to display at the funeral that was rapidly approaching. A fresh wave of pain crashed over you as you entered the room and started to think about the fact that you would never get to spend time with him there again, but you still tried to focus on the task at hand.

You made your way to the seemingly forgotten corner of Arthur’s bedroom that housed the secret passage and fumbled for the button the same way that your forever fiancé did the day that you arrived. The bookcase shifted, and instead of frightening you, the noises it made as it shifted into place were comforting.

You entered the gallery that Arthur kept his paintings in, and at first, you struggled to decide which of his paintings to display for the funeral. As you wandered around the room and carefully examined each one, however, there was one that caught your eye.

It was a painting of a vase of sunflowers and roses, which you’d told him were your favorite flowers. He’d started it shortly before the war began, so while it was clear what the painting was depicting, it was still largely unfinished. The moment you saw it; however, you thought that it was perfect for the display. As you continued to look through Arthur’s gallery, you found a few others that you thought would be fitting as well: a portrait of his parents that he’d painted for their anniversary and a self-portrait that he’d painted shortly before you arrived.

With the paintings chosen, you took them out of the private gallery and into the grand hall, which had everything that was needed for the funeral. Seeing so many people put in so much work to plan a memorial for the man that you loved moved you to tears, and you could only hope that Arthur knew just how many people cared for him when he was alive.

The day of the funeral came, and you spent the entire morning feeling like you were going to throw up. Everything necessary for the memorial was in the grand hall, but there was still so much to do to actually prepare. You did as much as you could, but there were moments when you had to step away because you were on the verge of tears. Whenever that happened, Irene was right by your side, comforting you however you needed her to.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you this before, but he told me that he was in love with you right before he said it to you as he was saying goodbye,” she said.

“Really?” you asked through your tears.

Irene nodded before she continued, “He told me how excited he was for the wedding and how happy he was that you were the woman he was gonna marry.” There was a moment of silence before she added, “He was so happy to have you.”

“I was happy to have him, too.”

Irene pulled you into a tight hug as you started to cry again, whispering words of reassurance as you tried desperately to calm down. Once you felt like you could breathe again, you thanked her and went back to preparations.

Arthur’s funeral was a blur of heartache as you sat in the grand hall and listened to the priest that lived on the palace grounds deliver a sermon on the healing power of God in times of grief. You’d never really considered yourself religious before, but you had to admit that the priest’s words moved you. Especially when you thought about the idea of seeing Arthur again in the afterlife.

After the sermon, several people spoke about their memories of Arthur in a beautiful celebration of his life. You were invited to share stories about your relationship with him as well, but you declined, unsure if you would be able to maintain your composure long enough to deliver a coherent speech.

Irene, however, as she shared stories from Arthur’s childhood and spoke about how much she loved her son, was the epitome of grace under pressure. You could see from the look in her eyes that she was probably going to break as soon as she was out of the kingdom’s view, but while she stood at the front of the grand hall telling a story about how Arthur fell in love with art as a child, she held herself together in a way that you could only hope to. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you envied how composed she was. You were determined not to think about that, however, instead choosing to focus on thoughts of the time that you did have with Arthur, no matter how limited it was.

As you left the grand hall, you heard Irene call your name. You turned around to see tears in her eyes and asked, “Yes, your majesty?”

“Thank you. The gallery was beautiful.”

“I’m just happy that we gave Arthur the best sendoff that we could. Thank you for being there for me as I’ve grieved.”

“I should thank you for the same. Your company has brought me more comfort and peace in these difficult times than you will ever know.”

Irene pulled you into a hug as you started to cry, and a few stray tears fell from her eyes as well. As the two of you sobbed in each other’s arms, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that you’d met someone like Irene that cared about you enough to be there for you as you experienced what had to be the worst pain of your life.

About a month after the funeral, your world was turned upside down again by a knock on your door. You opened it, and Irene stood before you. She looked like she’d been crying, but you decided not to bring attention to it. With a dejected sigh, she asked, “Would you please come with me? My husband has something that he’d like to discuss with you.”

“Of course.”

You followed Irene to the same meeting room where you’d proposed the memorial gallery, and when you arrived, John was waiting inside. As your eyes met, you noticed that he looked guilty, just like he had the day that he returned home from the war. You wanted to just ask him what was wrong, why he looked at you like he knew he was going to hurt you with what he had to say, but you decided not to make a scene. After all, you would find out soon enough.

You took a seat as Irene took her place next to John, and the first words out of the king’s mouth were, “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

“What’s going on, your highness?”

John didn’t have the heart to ask you to drop the formalities this time. Instead, he simply continued, “We’ve contacted your mother and father. They believe, as I do, that it would be best if you returned home to the Galestorm Empire, since you’re no longer marrying Arthur.”

You were truly at a loss for words.

Sure, you weren’t exactly thrilled to be in Eledath when you first arrived, but as time went on, you found yourself feeling at home in Goldmyst Palace, and you wanted to stay. It was kind of funny, really. Now that you didn’t actually want to leave, you had to.

Fighting back tears, you finally said, “I’ll start packing my things as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry that it’s come to this, (Y/N),” John said with a sigh.

“It’s alright, really. I understand,” you replied.

After that, you turned away from the king and queen and made your way toward the door, hoping that they didn’t notice the tears in your eyes that were threatening to fall at any moment. Once you were out of the meeting room, you returned to your chambers to begin packing in hopes it would distract you from your sorrow.

Packing everything that you brought with you when you first came to Eledath was difficult and time-consuming, but you did manage to do it on your own. You definitely didn’t enjoy doing it, though. Regardless, you knew that it had to be done, and you were proud of yourself for maintaining your composure long enough to actually do it.

As soon as you were done packing, however, you laid down on your bed and finally let the tears that you’d spent hours fighting back fall freely. You cried like you hadn’t in a long time, desperate to finally find some catharsis as all of the emotions that you’d been bottling up bubbled over and threatened to consume you. While you sobbed, you thought about your time with Arthur that you still wished hadn’t been cut short, your growing closeness to Irene that you would miss when you went home, and your overwhelming desire to stay in the home that you’d found in what was once an unfamiliar kingdom until you fell asleep.

You woke up the next morning to yet another knock on your door. You wanted to pretend that you were still sleeping and ignore it, but when you once again heard Irene’s voice calling your name on the other side, you knew that you couldn’t.

With a sigh, you got out of bed and answered the door. Irene appeared to be in a much better mood this time, however, smiling as she asked, “Can I speak to you about something?”

“Of course, your majesty. What is it?” you asked, allowing her into your chambers.

“Please, drop the formalities, dear,” Irene gently scolded as she entered. “I have exciting news!”

“What is it?”

“I spoke to John, and we may have a solution for what was discussed yesterday.”

“Do you mean going home?”

“Yes. What would you say if I asked you to stay here as a royal companion?” You were speechless, so she continued, “You wouldn’t have to do anything. You could just spend time with me as I go about my duties and attend events.”

You thought for a moment before you said, “What about my parents? Didn’t they want me to come home?”

“Well, yes, but John agreed to send them a letter and request their permission to let you stay if you want to. If we send it today, we should receive a response from them by the end of this week. What do you think?”

“I think it’s an incredibly generous offer. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.”

A smile graced your face for the first time since the meeting about your return home, and you said, “I think that sounds lovely.”

“Wonderful! I’ll tell John, and he can write the letter to your parents. I’m so happy you’re staying,” Irene replied as she pulled you into a hug that you were certain would have crushed your bones if it had been any tighter.

With a smile on her face and a spring in her step, Irene left your chambers, presumably to tell John about your decision. As you thought about the conversation you just had, you were touched by the queen’s request to keep you in Eledath. Despite her explanation, you weren’t exactly sure what being a royal companion would be like, but you were excited to find out, especially since you got to stay in your new home with the woman you considered your closest friend.

The week that you waited for your parents to respond to John’s letter was one of the most agonizing of your life. You were certain that they would allow you to stay, but sometimes you wondered if it was actual certainty or false hope that fueled your thoughts. Regardless, it was exactly what you needed to get through the almost unbearable waiting period.

When a letter from your mother and father finally arrived, Irene called you to her chambers to read it. Now that the letter had actually arrived, however, you were more nervous than you’d been all week. What if they didn’t let you stay? What if they’d already found some other prince to marry you off to? The possibilities were endless.

Irene smiled as she opened the letter, and with a deep breath, she read:

“Our dear (Y/N),

We were surprised to hear from King John that you’d like to stay in Eledath. However, after careful consideration, we’ve decided to give you our blessing to stay in Goldmyst Palace as a companion to Queen Irene. We fully trust her majesty and her husband to take care of you, and we trust you to make responsible decisions. All we ask is that you visit us here from time to time. We miss our little girl.

Warmest regards, Mom and Dad.”

You were ecstatic that your parents were permitting you to stay, to say the least. The moment Irene set the letter down, you pulled her into a hug, tears of relief streaming down your face. Once you regained your composure, you let go and said, “Thank you. Truly, thank you.”

“You are so welcome, my dear. I have to admit, however, that my motives weren’t entirely selfless.”

“What do you mean?”

“Truthfully, having you here has been a source of great joy and comfort for me, especially since losing Arthur. I didn’t want to let go of your companionship.”

With a soft smile, you hugged Irene yet again. Neither of you spoke, but you didn’t have to. The comfort of each other’s presence was all that you needed.

Adjusting to your new life as a royal companion took far less time than you thought it would. You and Irene settled into a routine surprisingly quickly, spending basically all of your free time together. Sure, you accompanied her to meetings with John and his advisors and occasionally acted as an assistant when she had to attend official events, but for the most part, you basically just kept her company.

Irene was immensely grateful that you stayed in the palace. You made her laugh on her darkest days, and you were always there to listen when she needed to talk. As time went on, and the two of you settled into your new routine, she found herself trusting you more than she trusted even her own husband in some matters.

Irene also found herself worrying less and less about beauty as she spent more time with you. After all, the people she cared about most still loved her, even if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the kingdom anymore. That had to count for something, right? So, she hid her magical mirror in a locked drawer, no longer feeling the need to ask it for advice or hear it tell her that she was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

As you spent more time with Irene, you found yourself dealing with new feelings that you didn’t quite understand. Whenever you were alone with her, you got butterflies in your stomach, and you felt giddy whenever she said your name. It was a textbook description of a crush, but that only left you more confused. After all, you’d never had romantic feelings for another woman before.

Regardless of your confusion, however, you really liked the way that being around Irene made you feel, as well as the things that she did that made you feel that way. She smiled every time she saw you, she made you laugh when you were feeling down, and she never let a day go by without telling you how much she cared about you and appreciated having you around.

Sometimes, you felt guilty for feeling the way that you did, though. After all, Irene was your dead fiancé’s mother. Plus, she was still happily married to her husband of twenty-five years. Sure, you couldn’t necessarily control how you felt, but you were still ashamed of yourself for allowing yourself to fall for a woman that you knew you could never have. So, you decided that you wouldn’t say a word, and you tried to meet other people in the palace that could distract you from your feelings.

Your attempts at distracting yourself weren’t nearly as successful as you were hoping they would be. Sure, you had fun meeting and hooking up with various men and women that lived in the palace, but none of them could take your mind off of Irene once the sex was over. That didn’t stop you from spending months continuing to try, though.

Irene noticed your pattern of behavior, and honestly, she was troubled. It wasn’t because she thought what you did was wrong, though. Absolutely not. She had no problem with you taking a different person to bed most nights, as long as you were safe once they were in your chambers. There was no reason for her to be concerned that it was something deeper, either. She truly didn’t understand why she was upset. Not at first, at least.

The reason that Irene was troubled by your behavior revealed itself at a ball to celebrate her husband’s birthday. Everyone in the palace was dancing, the finest wine in the kingdom flowed freely, and for one night, no one had to worry about anything.

Irene was very worried, however. At least, she thought it was worry at first. You were on the dance floor with Lord Vernon, a son of the late Lord Edward, and she could tell that he was interested in going to your quarters with you after the ball ended. Based on the way you looked at him as you said something to him that only he could hear, you were just as interested as he was.

Watching you dance with Lord Vernon made an ugly feeling settle in the pit of Irene’s stomach, and she hated herself for it. She knew that it wasn’t anxiety, since she trusted Lord Vernon and knew that the two of you wouldn’t do anything unsafe, but she still felt uncomfortable as she watched the way he held you close while you danced. As she thought about it more, she realized what was really going on.

The feeling she was experiencing was jealousy. She wanted to be the one that you were dancing with, not Lord Vernon.

The realization that Irene was jealous of Lord Vernon was a startling one, to say the least. After all, she’d been happily married for twenty-five years, and in that time she’d never experienced attraction to anyone that wasn’t her husband. Still, as she watched the way your body moved, and the wine she’d spent the evening drinking coursed through her veins, she found herself unable to think about anything but how badly she wanted to be the one to take you to bed after the ball was done. Disgusted with herself, Irene left the ballroom for some time to herself, hoping it would help her forget about wanting you the way that she did.

As you danced with Lord Vernon, you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. When you turned to look, you saw Irene leaving the ballroom in a hurry. Concerned that something was wrong, you turned back to Lord Vernon and said, “I have to go.”

“Will you be back?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry,” you replied as you left to follow Irene.

When you caught up with Irene, she was in the hallway in front of her chambers. She stood in front of the door, seeming to debate whether she should actually go in. As you stepped closer to where she stood, you asked, “Are you alright?”

With a defeated sigh, she turned to you and responded, “No, I’m not.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve had far too much wine, and it’s making me feel things that I shouldn’t.”

“Would you like to talk about them?”

“Thank you, dear, but I don’t want to burden you. You do enough for me already.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind-”

“For fuck’s sake, can you stop being so goddamn perfect?” she snapped.

A stunned silence filled the space as you processed what she said. You knew that you should say something, but you had no idea where to start. So, you chose to start simple by asking, “What do you mean?”

“You’re so fucking perfect, it’s sickening. I hate how perfect you are, and I hate that I want your perfect self as much as I do,” she ranted, not thinking about the words that left her lips.

After another brief stunned silence, you asked, “You want me?”

“Of course! Who wouldn’t? You’re smart, you’re kind, you’re funny, and you’re so unbelievably beautiful. I know it’s wrong for me to want you, but how could I not when you’re so fucking perfect?” she continued, tears starting to form in her eyes as she acknowledged her feelings out loud.

Whether it was the way Irene looked in the gown she’d chosen to wear to the ball, the alcohol coursing through your veins, your desperation, or some sick combination of all three, you decided to see what would happen next if you told her the truth. A small smile formed on your face as you said, “You know, I think you’re absolutely beautiful, too.”

“Don’t say that, dear. I know that you don’t mean it. At least, not the same way I do when I say it to you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I think I-”

Irene didn’t even get to finish her sentence before your lips were on hers. She let out a small noise of surprise at the sudden contact, but it didn’t take long at all for her to melt into the kiss just like you did.

As your lips moved against Irene’s, you couldn’t help but think that you could stay right there, kissing her right outside her bedroom door, for eternity. As she pulled away from the kiss, however, and looked at you with what could only be described as hunger in her eyes, you realized that she had other plans. A mischievous grin formed on her face, and she said, “Come with me.”

You nodded in response, and she opened the door to her chambers and practically dragged you inside. Once the door was shut, she turned to you with the same mischievous smile on her face and said, “Strip for me, baby.”

You scrambled to follow her instructions, watching as she removed her own garments. When both of you were completely bare, she grabbed your hand and led you to her bed before pinning you to the soft mattress. Her lips immediately found yours again, and a soft moan slipped out as you felt her hand make its way to your breast and squeeze lightly.

Irene pulled away to give you a chance to breathe before she asked, “Are you ok with this, baby?” You nodded and opened your mouth to speak but decided against it. With a smile, she added, “What is it? Talk to me, love.”

“Want more.”

“Oh really?” she asked with a teasing tone in her voice. You nodded, and she continued, “What is it that you want, baby?”

“Wanna taste you. Please? I promise I’ll be good, just wanna make you come on my tongue.”

“Fuck, baby, get up,” she commanded, climbing off of you.

You did as you were told, and Irene took your spot on the bed before spreading her legs. You immediately settled between them and started to gently suck on her clit. She moaned loudly at the stimulation, and that only made you want to continue.

While you continued to lick and suck Irene’s clit, you carefully inserted two fingers into her pussy. You groaned softly when you felt how wet she was, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her as she felt the vibrations around her clit. She let out a loud moan and tangled her hands in your hair as you pleasured her, pulling slightly. It was a simple gesture, but it still left you more aroused than you already were, if that was even possible.

“Fuck! Feels so good baby. Just like that,” she whined, bucking her hips up to meet your face.

You found yourself falling more and more in love with Irene with every moan and whine that left her lips. She clearly loved the situation you’d found yourselves in just as much as you did, crying out as you continued to fuck her with your fingers and tease her clit with your tongue.

It didn’t take much longer for her release to start to build, the tension in the pit of her stomach threatening to snap at any moment. As she got closer to the brink, she tried desperately to force the words out to warn you. She just didn’t get them out in time, though. Instead, she came undone around you with a loud moan of your name. You continued to gently fuck her through her release until she pushed you away, trying desperately to catch her breath.

After Irene came down from her high, she carefully stood up and said, “You did such a good job for me, baby. What would you like as a reward? Do you want my fingers, my tongue, or my strap?”

“Strap, please?” you begged, desperate to relieve the arousal that had been building between your legs for what felt like an eternity.

“Of course, baby. Lie down for me, ok?”

You nodded and moved to lie down on Irene’s bed while she took the toy she was planning to use out of her drawer. You wanted to ask why she had it but decided against it. Instead, while you waited, you carefully moved your hand between your legs and started to play with your clit, growing impatient and desperate. A soft moan slipped out, letting Irene know that you were up to something. She turned toward you, and when she noticed what you were doing, she sighed and said, “Really? I’m disappointed, baby. I thought you were my good girl, but right now, you’re acting like a desperate slut. Is that what you are?”

You shook your head and replied, “No, ma’am.”

“Then why were you touching yourself when I was literally five feet away looking for the toy I was planning to use to fuck you?”

You whined at the question and answered, “Got impatient. ‘m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again” as you moved your hand away from your pussy.

“Good girl. Still want me to fuck you, or was your hand enough?”

“Wasn’t enough. Please fuck me, ma’am,” you begged.

“That’s what I thought.”

Irene attached the harness to her hips before carefully climbing on top of you. Once she aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance, she grabbed your chin to make you look at her and asked, “Before I continue, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Please just fuck me.”

That was all Irene needed to hear to slowly move her hips forward. A loud cry left your lips as you felt her enter you, and you already found yourself starting to feel overwhelmed. Once she actually started thrusting, the feeling only intensified.

Irene started slowly at first, not wanting to do too much right away. As she thrusted in and out, you wrapped your arms around her and dug your nails into her back. She groaned at the sensation, loving the way that it hurt.

“Harder, please,” you whined, bucking your hips up to meet hers in a desperate attempt for more stimulation.

As Irene started fucking you harder, neither one of you spoke much, too focused on what you were doing. Occasionally, though, a soft “Fuck” or “Feels so good” would slip out of your mouth, and your lover for the night found herself wanting to draw those sweet words out of you again and again. You were the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, and all she could think about as she continued to thrust into you was how badly she wanted to show you just how beautiful she thought you were every night for the rest of her life.

One of the many things that Irene already loved about intimacy with you was watching the way your tits bounced as she fucked you. She could hardly tear her eyes away from the sight, and you had to admit that when you noticed, you were incredibly flattered.

As your high started to build, you found yourself growing increasingly desperate. With a whine, you asked, “Can I please play with my clit, ma’am?”

After a particularly harsh thrust, she said, “Go ahead, baby.”

That was all you needed to hear to bring your hand to your pussy, circling your clit as Irene continued to pound into you. When your whines started to get more frequent and higher in pitch, she realized that you were getting close. Wanting nothing more than to watch you come undone, she moved her head down to your neck, kissing and biting every bit of you that she could comfortably reach.

Between the dildo moving in and out of you, your hand on your clit, and Irene’s mouth on your neck, it was only a matter of time before you tumbled over the edge into overwhelming pleasure. With a loud cry, you came undone around the toy, moaning your lover’s name as she continued to fuck you through your release.

Once you came down from your high, Irene carefully pulled out of you and removed the harness, setting it aside to be dealt with in the morning. Then, she carefully helped you out of bed and into the bathroom that was connected to her bedroom so that the two of you could get cleaned up.

Once both of you were clean and comfortable, Irene carefully helped you back into her bed. After the two of you were settled, she wrapped her arms around you, holding you close as you truly relaxed for the first time in months. While she held you close, you talked to her about whatever came to mind until you fell asleep. Once she was certain that you were sleeping, she allowed herself to relax too, silently admiring your beauty as she fell asleep.

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this one, please like and reblog, and make sure to check out the other fics in this collab! The masterlist can be found here. If you'd like to read more of my work, you can find my personal masterlist here. If you wanna see what else I have in the works, my upcoming works list is here. If none of that catches your attention, or there's something specific that you want to see, send a request via my asks or dms! If you want to be tagged in my new fics, the form to join my taglist is here!

Thank you again for reading, and thank you again to Tara for the banner!

#kvanity #dovenet #keopihausnet #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop fluff #red velvet fanfic #red velvet fic #red velvet fluff #red velvet angst #red velvet smut #irene x reader #irene fanfic #irene fic #irene smut #irene fluff #irene angst

50 notes · View notes