#yes I am working on a full fic version of this

[black-rose-writings]

I absolutely love how accepting Danny is of Dani/Ellie, but I am a master of angst and I therefore must make it angsty (even if only lightly).

Consider this:

Vlad is trying to figure out why the clones keep failing (it is the food issue, but he's a dunce and won't figure that out until later), so he tries to substitute what he thinks is missing with his own material, making Ellie a mix of him and Danny.

Now, this Ellie has bits and pieces of both Vlad and Danny's memories and abilities (technically, physically, she's closer to Danny, mentally, she is closer to Vlad, but she's also very much not bound by physical rules and, conciously or not, makes herself look more like Vlad than she should in an attempt to make him less likely to dispose of her). So Vlad is trying to make her believe she is the Prime clone while he "keeps her for further study", while she is trying to manipulate him into getting attached and actually keeping her as a daughter. Vlad gets attached.

Ellie, having never been human, is very bad at pretending to be one, especially at the begining. 0 respect for gravity and walls, does not quite understand how far human joints are supposed to bend or how social norms work. Basically, she's a little eldritch freak in the body of an adorable 12yo. She does eventually get better, but she is more ghost than human and will always be off in one way or another.

Now, fast forward a couple of months. Vlad has been awfully quiet and Danny is getting suspicious. Jack decides to invite Vlad over for dinner (nobody else is too happy about it, but Jack is a stubborn bitch and Maddie eventually decides that maybe Vlad would get the hint this time). Danny is dreading what Vlad would have planned for said dinner, so when Vlad walks in with a kid that is giving him all sorts of creeps, he's on high alert.

Of course, he thinks it's a scheme of some sort. Some kind of trick to woo his mom. Is that kid some kind of ghost he convinced to help him? A creation of Desiree? His actual biological kid that he's been ignoring until now that he has decided to take in to spite Danny? (That's what Maddie thinks. She certainly looks like she could be that.) Vlad claims she's adopted, but nobody's buying that.

So, while the dinner is getting finished and the adults are chatting, Danny practically drags Ellie aside and asks her what she is, totally ready to throw hands with this child if she turns out to be dangerous. Ellie plays dumb at first, but eventually reveals what she is (Vlad had a whole speech planned for Danny. Ellie is not sorry she ruined that).

And if she was just Danny's clone, I think Danny would probably handle it well (as well as one can handle finding out your enemy cloned you, anyway), though he would have some choice words for Vlad. But Ellie is not just Danny in this version and Danny has been traumatised by TUE. So, obviously, he throws hands with a 12yo. Ellie's only complaint is "your parents are going to hear us fighting, you flatcake." Danny does eventually calm down and Ellie promises him they can beat the shit out of each other later for proper ghost bonding, but first they have to survive the dinner with their parents.

[necrotic-nephilim]

i recently remembered DickTim Week 2024 is happening very soon and i looked at the prompts again to see if i could get anything out for it and. the Hades & Persephone AU prompt for day 1 has got me really thinking so here's a vague concept i plan to write.

i've been pretty burnt out on modern Hades & Persephone retellings because of how they always seem to fall into the same generic "innocent wide-eyed girl runs from her evil mean mother into the arms of a dark mysterious man because actually she went willingly and chose to marry him" which has gotten repetitive for my tastes. (for clarity i don't care if this retelling is your cup of tea personally, so long as you're not actively trying to rewrite the original myth and claim untrue things about it, if this is your favorite flavor i sincerely hope you enjoy the buffet i just have little interest in it since it feels overdone for me and exhausted of it's supposed commentary atp)

but? but. biblically accurate Hades & Persephone AU has me all kinds of interested. because wait listen so hear me out right. Hades!Dick and Persephone!Tim, obviously. i feel it'd be more loosely inspired by with themes and imagery (though playing with death and nature powers could be interesting, i haven't decided) rather than explicitly making them gods and all. but. something dark and fucked up where Dick and Bruce are especially estranged. maybe to do with Jason's return, maybe to do with them just clashing and having their usual explosive arguments. and Bruce knows the peace needs to be kept, if he and Dick are at odds then everyone starts to pick sides and things just fracture so he needs a peace offering.

and the peace offering is Tim.

Bruce (the stand-in for Zeus) offers up Tim. agrees to have Tim move to Bludhaven and be Dick's... whatever Dick wants him to be. knowing that with the implication comes the likelihood of Dick grooming Tim. and Tim has no real say and is hesitant to put up a real fight. he doesn't want this, he knows what this is going to imply Dick will do to him, but he also knows if he says no things have the possibility to just... fall apart. so he's the unwilling bride, dragged off to the metaphorical underworld (Bludhaven) with Dick, away from his family, his friends, the life he built.

and on the flip side, i think weirdly enough, your best pick for the Demeter stand-in is *Jason*. just, hear me out on that. not necessarily on the side of it being motherly, but on Jason being just estranged enough from the Batfamily to be the one willing to call it out for being bad and wrong and raising bloody hell to get Tim back. maybe it's because Jason wants Tim for himself, maybe it's truly out of a concern for Tim to have autonomy, i'm toying with the idea of it primarily being Tim's POV and him genuinely not knowing which of these is true. (and the truth possibly ends up being a complicated middle ground) and because i like Helena, i think you can use her as the Hekate stand in, the one who strikes a tentative alliance with Jason and tries to go find Tim and bring him back. Tim stuck with Dick, getting groomed and hyperaware of it, possibly even getting fucked the whole time as well, knowing he can't go back without causing massive issues for Dick and Bruce because well, Bruce did promise him to Dick. so he has to adjust his whole life, try to figure out being a vigilante in this new city with Dick breathing down his neck the whole time.

and then much like the ending of the myth, a sort of compromise is struck that's a shaky deal for everyone involved. Tim is put on an essential timeshare, going back and forth between Gotham, where he has friends and family and a support system, then getting dragged right back to Bludhaven with Dick in this brutal cycle that he slowly gets used to and stockholm'd into even liking it. Dick isn't so bad, once he gets used to the quirks of their unbalanced 'relationship'. the sex is even something he can adjust to as well. not quite a happy ending but one that sits in this realistic grey area that becomes Tim's life.

i will write this, eventually, but i don't know if i'll get to it before DickTim Week ends so by posting the idea i'm essentially putting it out into the world so the peer pressure holds me accountable. i just. really like the potential of making Hades/Persephone AUs as fucked up as they can be simply by adhering to the source material and making it a raw story of being stolen away and forced to like this new home you didn't ask for.

also a less fleshed-out aspect of this idea i have ties into Persephone becoming the Queen of the Underworld when she's taken and how the transition from Kore to Persephone could be reflected in Tim. how he makes the best of the worst situation and becomes something far more dangerous and dark when he's in Bludhaven, possibly takes on a new vigilante name/identity and leans into the worst quirks of his personality he tries to tamper because there's no point in not going full tilt Obsessively Weird if he has no choice anyway and it being one small way he takes back his autonomy, and that inevitably making Dick *more* into him, because he gets to see Tim finally just. let loose.

[rebelssvy]

addicted ✧.*

nanami x reader ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

added twt links !!!

summary: nanami was going out of town and had you recreate his fave porn so he could record. a little spanking, sex, oral sex fem receiving, he finishes in u.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

this came from an ask. i am working on the second part of it now, ukai version. save urself. this was also my first full jjk fic!!! lmk what u think

nanami had an actual problem. he was addicted to your pussy.

he was going on a mission soon, and the though of not having you clamping down on his cock every night brought him close to tears. he’s never been this emotionally distraught in his life. finally an idea struck his mind.

“my love?” he said as you two were cuddling in bed. your wine glass was on the counter next to you. deeply immersed in his love you lazily turned to face him.

“yes?” your voice alone did things to him. ungodly things. things that made him go heavy in the head.

“my mission is coming up soon and… i just keep thinking about how much im gonna miss you.” he said rolling over to put his head in the pillows. arm still draped over you.

you could tell the man was in heat. he was always so obvious with it. the way he would get al obsessed with you. and trust me he’s always obsessed with you. there was no doubt in your mind that he loved you. but there was somthing different about the way he yearned for you.

he was truly irresistible though.

“baby?” you tapped him on the shoulder to look up at you. his face was all flushed and his hair was ragged. fuck. he was perfect.

“hmm?” he mumbled, all drawn out. the next words that were going to come out of you were going to be truly shocking to him.

“wanna fuck me and record it for when you go away?” the smile on your face was blinding as you watched his entire demeanor change.

“fuckk babe that was the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.” he said before instantly pulling out his phone. you stopped him short.

“mmhmh not yet baby… first.. lets get some inspiration.” taking his phone out of his hands. you unlocked it and went straight to the compilation of porn he had ‘hidden’ on his phone. you knew where it was a week into dating him. only just recently have you been sending eachother videos labeled ‘when r we trying this?’

excitement filled your gut. all of your body stood on end as you scrolled though his personal collection. all his kinks, all his thoughts and secrets on a screen.

some of the videos added were new. you hadn’t seen them before. like this one of a girl practically jumping up and down on her bfs dick. fuck. that shit was hot. “i imagined fuckin you like that… after work and i come home an ur al hot f’me.” he slurred like he was drunk. but he was just drunk off your pussy. not even close to touching you and he was al riled up like a dog in heat.

the next one was foul. a girl chained up to a chair as the man had his cock buried in her underwear. pinching her clit tight and smacking her ass. you didn’t know he watched stuff like this. especially since he was normally all vanilla with you. his voice rang out in your ears when he spoke. “i’m sorry darling that one…. isn’t like me. i just can’t get it out of my head though… my pretty girl all tied up to my desk in my office… fuckkk. god let me touch you.” the way he rambled on you knew he was way past his limit.

you went to set his phone down but he cut you off. “no. keep watching. i’m gonna play with you and your gonna keep watching porn. got that?” you gasped at how demanding he was. he really truly normally wasn’t like this. it was.. hot.

“okay…” you said, hesitant.

you scrolled as he kissed and licked all your open skin. taking his sweet his taking off your undergarments. when you were fully naked he spent several seconds just staring at you before touching you. your wettness pooled as he then spread your legs. looking the most eager he ever has he licked your pussy. smacking on your clit and tounge fucking you.

“keep watching my phone baby.” he said into your sloppy cunt. brining two fingers to your hole, before putting them in.

it was hard to concentrate on the, man 69 his girl. when nanami was groaning under you. just from your taste. you forcefully pried your eyes back onto the screen.

you gasped when you came across a video so unholy you tightened around his fingers. “fuck me like this! please an- and record it! pleasee babe…” you held up the video to him, a girl getting so pounded her face was pushed into the couch.

he groaned under you. “fuck babe… i have dreamt of doing that to you. fuckin ur pussy al raw…” he mumbled to himself before pulling you into a missionary position. it was more intimate. you didn’t mind. but you wanted to be fucked tonight.

he pulled out his phone, his demeanor changed. suddenly, a fire filled his eyes. slapping his stop on your clit. he recorded everything. your face, your body, your wet fucking cunt. god. you needed him.

“please… i need ur cock…” you were suddenly camera shy. you didn’t know how to act anymore.

“want it so fuckin bad…?” he mumbled before shoving himself balls deep into you. the movement was harsh. your back arched into him. he was girthy. sometimes he was too much. you screamed out. not looking at the camera.

“…look at me baby..” he mumbled, phone in hand pounding into you. you let your head fall back.

“when i say look at the camera..” his voice was sharper, before he laid a soft little slap on your spred pussy. “- u fuckin look at the camera.” that movement awoke somthing in you.

“fuck na-! harder. slap me harder.” you moaned out. as if he wasn’t already balls deep in your sopping cunt.. he pounded you at rapid speed now.

almost like that angle wasn’t enough, he turned out over onto your face, ass up, like the girl in the video.

“fuck me! nanami~ fuck i’m gonna miss your fat cock…!” you moaned out to him. the words went straight to his cock and he fucked you like it.

his pace changed rapidly, grabbing into on of your arms with his free hand, he propped the camera up with the other. getting a clear view of you taking his cock like his little doll. you watched in the phones reflection of you getting pounded. your wet pussy getting torn apart.

it was all overwhelming you came on his cock without recognizing. the pressure was too great. it was too much. you were approaching your second orgasm. you went to warn him but no words came out of your mouth. just moans and gasps. plowing for your second orgasm, the way your tight pussy clenched on his fat fucking cock made him burie his load deep in your cunt. his liquid filled u up to the brim. almost too fucked out to hear his ple’s behind you.

“god y’ur so fuckin perfect.. this pussy- all mine. fuck yes all mine…” he mumbled over and over.

·:*¨༺ ���✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

ukai ver. soon…

[livelaughloveluffy]

naps - trafalgar water d. law

a/n: every time i write for law, i always second guess myself until i actually start writing 😭😭😭 i psyche myself the hell out over here like "omg does this characterization make sense?" and it somehow always falls into place, but trust me, im stressingggg before i finish a law fic because it only ever makes sense right towards the end when my brain finally remembers "ah yes, i do love this man, i am in fact obsessed with him too" 💀

nothing but fluff here💗

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-he claims he hates when you play with his tattoos (he is 100% lying and you both know it) the soft and gentle touches of your fingers casually outlining the design of his chest tattoo is the one thing guaranteed to lull him to sleep. it's the only time you see him this relaxed

-this man is perpetually tired, however it takes some extreme convincing to get him to take a nap with you. not because he doesn't want too, but mainly because he likes to hear you whine and beg for him 😭😭 (and because he also hates stepping away from work)

-law prefers when you lay on top of him, straddling his leg or hips with your thighs, putting your full body weight onto him. he's wrap his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. and when he's bored, he'll gently stroke your hair, leaving kisses on top of your head. and he definitely pouts when you guys cuddle/nap in another position. he'll still do it, of course, but he'll complain while he does.

-he smells so good, this man smells like a deep bourbon whisky vanilla, sweet but also deep and intoxicating. smells so heavenly that you wonder how you ever slept without it.

-when he's really sleep deprived in his office, it takes a lot less than normal to convince law to take a nap with you; you crawled into his lap putting your legs over one of the arms of the chair, his arms around your waist holding you close to him, with your hand tangled in his dark brown locks, he instantly caves when you whisper "wanna take a nap with me, captain?" you'll be thrown over his shoulder and onto his mattress before he ever utters the word "yes"

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a/n: it's been a minute since i posted for my law girlies, so this is for you guys (law's version of the confession series is officially in the works)💗

a/n enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[genevievefangirl]

Master Post - Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics!

It is finally here! My personal top 100 DBDA fics!

My friends in the DBDA Haunt Discord server know that I am an avid fic reader. I read multiple hours every day and have read a very large chunk of all the DBDA fics out there (that are tagged Payneland). I constantly recommend fics in our fanfic channel and thought, "Well, why don't I make a huge rec list in recognition of how wonderful the fic writers of this fandom are?" And thus the idea for this list was born!

I have been working on this since the cancellation announcement almost 2 months ago. It has taken me that long to go back through my over 350+ DBDA bookmarks and select only the best of the best to be featured here.

Thank you to every fic writer in this fandom! You are all amazing and I love your work! Your creations are what keep the fandom alive and healthy!

Some caveats before we begin:

These fics are in alphabetical order by title.

I have a Payneland bias. All of these are Payneland fics. Maybe I will make a list sometime that has more ship variety, but for now, that is what is on the list.

I also have a very strong hurt/comfort & angst bias, so there will be a lot of that on here as well! But there are a few fluffy fics too!

There is no smut on this list. Sorry, smut just isn't my thing. There is exactly one fic rated E on here.

Not all tags are listed! I have selected the ones that I feel are the most important and in some cases added some that I felt were missing. But please read the full tag list on the fic itself!

I will be releasing 10 fics a day for 10 days, to make the posts more readable and to have some fun!

And now... THE LIST!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11 - WIPs

(and yes I will link a google sheets version once all the parts are out)

[thoughtfulfiction]

Hike of a Lifetime

Author’s Note: Set in the 2022 offseason after Justin’s labrum surgery in January 2023. Rewriting my first Justin fic is a full circle moment for me so I hope you like this one!

The last two hours of your life had been spent going over orders of Gatorade protein shakes, protein pack quick bites that usually contained some sort of cheese and sausage, various brands of Greek yogurt, apples, bananas, blueberries, granola bars and anything else you could think of to stock the weight room with while you were on vacation. You had been the head nutritionist for the UCLA men's basketball team for the last year, making customized, ever changing meal plans and consulting with the health care staff to enhance your athlete's performance to the best of your ability.

After the team's loss to Gonzaga in the NCAA tournament known as March Madness, you ran to Eugene, Oregon at the first opportunity you had to go see your sister Chloe. March up until this point was one busy day after another, truly living up to the name. Most days you didn't even feel like you got to sit down for more than 10 minutes at a time due to the constant travel and meetings you had to attend. So you took a week off and as soon as you closed your laptop today, you were going to enjoy being one with nature.

Chloe had moved to Eugene two years before you got your LA job, working as a team photographer for the University of Oregon's football team, allowing the two of you to see each other during conference play more often, which had done wonders for your relationship. It's one thing to be siblings but you could genuinely call her a friend now, which was both weird to say aloud, and nice.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Chloe steps into the living room, breaking you out of your vigorous typing. You look up and groan at the guilty look on her face. That was definitely an I have a work emergency and I’m going to be leaving you, look.

"No. You're not canceling on me. I got here two days ago and I have yet to really be outside. How am I supposed to enjoy some of the most beautiful scenery of my life if I'm stuck at the house the whole time? Does spring ball even matter anyway?"

Chloe laughs, heading into the kitchen to grab a snack. You'd recently lectured her about how although cereal is a grain, she can't consider it a food group and she needs to introduce more of a balanced variety in her diet. Unless she enjoys her daily 4pm sugar crash. She surprises you by pulling out a bowl of overnight oats from the fridge, with strawberries on top. After giving her your nod of approval, she gets back to the issue at hand. "Yes, spring ball matters. But I promise you it will not take me that long, I'll be back before you know it."

You huff out a breath, trying to come up with a solution. "What if you have one of your interns do it? Mine are really holding down the fort this week, I'm obviously working from home to help them out a little and I think you should do the same."

"Well our jobs are a little different. I can give them things to edit and post but I don't want to have to approve every single one of their photos and make sure they're featuring the right position groups and players based on a schedule that I created in my head. It'll just be easier if I'm there to walk them through it and then I can come home and we'll have a relaxing week until you have to be back in messy Hollywood."

"It's just Los Angeles, not Hollywood, genius. I still work at a university just like you do," you laugh at her exaggerated version of the place you now call home.

She rolls her eyes, stepping away from her food to grab her keys. "Same difference. It's all polluted air and earthquakes anyway."

Finally finished with your task, you stand up to snatch the keys out of her hand and lead the way to the garage. "Whatever, I'm in clean air now and would really like to be able to experience it. So I'll be dropping you off and getting to my hike."

You get out of the car and the sun immediately hits your skin, not in a way that’s intense but rejuvenating, bringing you back to life. The scent of early spring, mixed in with the sweet smell of freshly bloomed rhododendron sparks a further revival. The air really is different here. Life is more…undisturbed.

Families are getting out of their vehicles without a crushing sense of urgency that you’re used to, people are laughing and enjoying each other’s company and you’ve been to this park before so you feel somewhat comfortable navigating the terrain on your own, opting to quiet the sounds of the world by listening to a podcast during your leisurely stroll. Without even making it a mile on the trail, you spot a friendly black dog making his way over to you, nudging your leg with his wet nose, essentially demanding that you pet him. You usually probably wouldn’t have but the serene energy of the space you’re in brings it out of you.

“Well hello there, buddy. Who do you belong to?” You bent down to search for a name on his collar. “Dylan, that’s a cute name. Should we go find who you came here with before someone has a heart attack?” You laughed softly as the dog happily panted away and let you grab onto the leash. Before you could even take a step, you heard a booming voice calling out the dog’s name.

The distressed figure comes into view and lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much for grabbing him. I’m so sorry if he’s bothering you, I bent down to tie my shoe and this guy decided to make a break for it.”

“He’s taking advantage of the fact that you only have one good arm.” You point out, remembering the shoulder surgery announcement you saw in the LA Times. The man was probably getting used to having both arms again. “No worries, he’s sweet. And super friendly.” You handed him the leash and he thanked you again.

“I seriously owe you, my mom would’ve killed me if I lost our dog when I just got home.” He chuckles nervously. God his laugh was cute. “I’m sorry, I never got your name. I’m Justin.”

“I know.” You smile. “It’s nice to meet you though, I’m y/n. Hope you enjoy the rest of your hike.” You grabbed your AirPods and went to place them back in your ears to finish getting lost in your own little world once again before he stops you.

“Wait—maybe we could finish out the hike…together? You know, just so Dylan doesn’t take advantage of me again.” Maybe he was just being cautious because there was no way he was flirting with you…right?

Those green eyes were going to get you in trouble and you knew it. But you were on a beautiful scenic getaway and hiking with Justin Herbert wasn’t going to come around every single day.

“Let’s do it. Wouldn’t want you to hurt your shoulder even more chasing after Dylan. Bolt nation might collectively collapse if anything happens to you so I’m calling this a public service.”

He unsuccessfully tries to stifle a laugh. “What a Good Samaritan you are.”

Justin was funny. And sweet. And the most fun company you’ve had in a while. You talked about your job, the entire NCAA tournament and what you both thought about being in LA. Even though you both lived very different lives, it was filled with sports and schedules and meetings and practices and there were a lot of things to bond over. Before you knew it you’d been out there for three hours and Rachel texted you to let you know she was done and ready to resume your sisterly activities. He took a look at your deflated expression.

“Do you need to head out?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” You whispered. “This was fun though.”

He readjusts the hat on his head. “Yeah this was great. Um, I meant what I said earlier though. I owe you.” He gestures towards the phone in your hands and you hand it to him watching him type in his number, texting himself immediately so he has yours.

“Maybe we could grab dinner or something before you head back to LA?” He states pensively, holding his breath a bit until you answer.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The two of you head back to the parking lot and you give Dylan one more pat on the head. You look up to meet Justin’s gaze, shy smiles painting both of your faces. He walked you all the way to your car and waved goodbye as you drove away to meet Rachel.

While you waited all you could do was stare at your phone, Justin had given you his number and you had his. He’d put his actual contact information in your phone AND had asked you to go to dinner. None of this felt like real life, what kind of person stumbles upon an NFL quarterback on a normal hike?

“Why are you smiling like that? It scares me.” Chloe interrupts your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized she opened the door and got in the car. “Did that hike change your life or something?” She finished with a dry laugh.

“I’m not sure, but I think it may have…”

Rachel nods her head slowly, desperately hoping to understand what’s going on. “Yeah okay whatever. Let’s get some lunch because I am absolutely starving.”

You put the car in drive, your phone notifying you of a text from its spot on the dashboard car mount. Rachel grabs it and asks, “who the hell is Justin and why is he asking if you’re free tomorrow night?”

“Just some guy I met while hiking, no big deal,” you tried and failed to be nonchalant. She knew you way better than that.

“If it’s really no big deal then tell that to the gigantic smile on your face. You’re going on that date. I’m texting him back to let him know you’ll be free.”

All that Chloe knows is his name. The rest of it you decide to keep to yourself not only to respect his privacy but you want to keep this special thing for you and only you. In case this doesn’t go anywhere, you’ll always have the memory of today and whatever happens on Friday to look back on fondly. And by telling your sister you’re putting a little bit more pressure on it, like this has to become something. You don’t really know this guy yet, only the small tidbits that he shared on the walk and that his family dog’s name is Dylan, who would run away with any stranger if enough treats were offered.

There are so many things going through your mind as you change your outfit for the fourth time tonight. What if he thinks you’re boring? Or he’s boring? What happens if the two of you run out of things to say and you’re just sitting in the restaurant in awkward silence until someone decides to call it a night? Even worse, what if this is the best date you ever go on, you fall for him and then never hear from him again because he’s an NFL quarterback and you sometimes spend three hours a day planning out breakfast options for 18-22 year old basketball players.

You glanced in the mirror, slinging a tiny black purse over your shoulder with a subtle smirk on the way out the door at your final clothing choice. Chloe mentioned that the car outside being a super nice Porsche and you made something up about thinking that he worked in finance or a job closely related to that so she wouldn't keep digging for more information. All she followed up with was "have fun and be safe."

Ambrosia's staff walked you and Justin into the restaurant by the back entrance into a private room, which was the most abnormal part of the night. The rest of the evening was spent consuming seafood stuffed mushrooms, pasta and sharing a classic tiramisu, the best one you'd ever had in your life.

The nerves that once seeped through every pore were quickly replaced with what a vacation was supposed to feel like. Conversation flowed easily, there was no pressure to be perfect or funny or overly sexy. Justin was so…normal. He was pretty, not in a way that was intimidating because you really weren’t sure he realized how attractive he actually is. But pretty in a sense that everything about him made him more attractive. His ability to actively listen to the words you say and bring them back up when it’s relevant. The way his dimples are more pronounced when he laughs. The way he stops mid conversation to say thank you to the service staff every time they refill his water. There wasn’t a bone in his body that wasn’t filled with humility and kindness. Everything he did was gentle. And on top of all of that he paid without hesitation.This date truly had been a breath of fresh air.

“Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun.”

His lips curl into a smile, “this was probably the best first date I’ve had.” He doesn’t know why he’s just admitted that to you, but he’s glad it’s out there now.

“Me too,” you stand up out of your chair after he does, a collection of butterflies appearing in your stomach when he places a hand on the small of your back, before encasing his hand with yours to lead you out of the restaurant.

“When are you heading back to LA?” He asks. You only know that because you’re reading his lips and not listening to a word he’s saying. You really want to kiss him.

You hesitate to lean in, bringing your focus back to his eyes, meeting his soft gaze. “I’ll be here for a couple more days, then it’s back to work. What about you?”

“Tomorrow…” he begins, slowly losing his train of thought when a little bit of the light goes out in your eyes. Should he kiss you before he leaves in the morning or wait until you’re both back in California with busy schedules and no clue if and when you’ll see each other again? “…I don’t want to leave now due to some unforeseen circumstances,” he laughs, “unfortunately I’ve got some stuff to take care of. But I’ll call you and we can maybe do this again?”

“Yeah. Definitely. I’ll see you around.” He gave you a warm hug on the way out and you watched him walk away to his car, smiling to yourself at the thought of a second date. You couldn’t wait for that phone call.

Two weeks later...he still hasn’t called. You would’ve been surprised had you not prepared yourself for this very scenario. Even with all of this so-called “preparation,” the radio silence from him still stung. Who would’ve thought this would happen? The NFL quarterback is busy with his offseason recovery while the girl he went on one singular date with continues to replay minute by minute interactions they had. No one could’ve seen this coming. The thought of that date feels like so long ago and the fact that you can remember it in vivid detail is a feels a little humiliating. You can’t even look at an Apple Watch without your stomach ending up in knots.

You've closed your office door today, taking a few hours to yourself in between meetings. Earlier in the day you and the rest of the staff had to sit through a Tyr presentation, listening to the representatives of the brand try to sell you their endurance sports drink and leaving you with some samples. Then you had CLIF come in with some new energy chew flavor samples for the guys to try. All of the boxes of products now sat in your office and you really hoped to spend the rest of the day going through the food budget, managing receipts and preparing for your first year presentations for when the new freshman arrived sometime in June. You were glancing back and forth between Whole Foods receipts and Amazon orders when your phone rang. Too busy and in the middle of crunching numbers, you ignored the call. Then it started ringing again. You stop what you're doing, assuming that if someone is calling you twice in a row, it must be urgent. The contact name flashing on the screen has you frozen in time.

It was Justin.

Even though you've been alone in your office for a while, you look around to make sure you're not making this up and this is actually happening. He's calling you. Finally.

"Hello? Who is this?" You can hear him shuffling around, probably walking around in a circle aimlessly just like you are. Despite your best efforts to seem unfazed.

"I deserve that," he cringes. "I'm so sorry for not calling you sooner."

"What—what made you call me now?"

He can tell your voice is softer than when you first answered, and he missed hearing it. "Um...life got a little ahead of me and that's not an excuse. I just—didn't want you to think that I wasn't ever going to call," he pauses, "can I make you dinner? Tonight? If you're free. And we can talk in person."

You look at the door with a sigh, contemplating your entire existence. And then you think...fuck it. "Yeah sure, I'm free tonight. Text me your address and I'll be there around 7?"

"Seven works, I'll see you tonight."

His house is perfectly spotless. There is just no way that a single adult man in his 20s is naturally this organized and clean. Even the cat, who he introduces to you as Nova, a gorgeous Bengal walks around like she owns the place, greeting you briefly (sizing you up) before trotting away without a second glance. Justin walks you into the kitchen where he's in the middle of plating the meal. He just looked good doing normal things, filling glasses of water, opening and closing the fridge, taking off his apron. You really needed to get a grip. "It smells great in here chef, what's on the menu?"

He laughs a little, presenting his dish like he's the star of a Food Network show. "Tonight I've made for you a Traeger filet mignon seasoned with the Traeger seasoning and chimichurri sauce with a side of roasted garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus."

You happily clap for his A+ presentation and he gives you a bow. "Justin, this looks amazing! I can't wait to dig in."

The man leads you to the table, setting the plate down in front of you before grabbing a seat right next to you. "So...let me explain."

Taking a bite of your food, you shake your head. "You really don't have to explain yourself, we went on one date. There's nothing to explain I mean—”

"Yeah there is. I want you to know that I wanted to call sooner, I really did. But I came back and had to meet with doctors to make sure my recovery was on track and then the draft happened and then I had to talk about the future of my contract and I didn't want the craziness of my life to overshadow what we have going on. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you're being put on the backburner."

Unbeknownst to you, he had also been replaying that date...more often that he'd like to admit. Anytime he had a minute to himself he thought about calling, seeing what you're doing. And then there was a meeting, or a draft party or someone needing him to be somewhere. But you were always on his mind and he was glad to now have life slow down a little bit to show you he really did care.

"I get it. Definitely thought you forgot about me there for a second. A few seconds," you correct yourself. "But I knew you were busy and we're here now so you're forgiven. Especially because this steak is incredible."

"Well thank you," he smiles sheepishly.

He begged you not to help him clean up but you insisted. After everything was put away he gave you a tour of the place and then you sat on the couch looking for a movie to watch until the stack of puzzles on the shelf caught your eye.

"You haven't unwrapped this one. Is it new?" You note the plastic wrap lining the box on the shelf meeting you at eye level. The flowers look familiar but you can't exactly remember where you've seen them before.

“There's a lot of flowers at the park we met. Any rhododendron I see now," he nods at the box in your hand, "makes me think of you. So I bought this. Figured we could do it together.” The way he's looking at you when you turn around makes you feel warm and tingly inside.

Something about being with him is addicting. You feel physically drawn to him, this pull, an invisible hold that he has on your heart that soon makes you want to run for the hills. But you know that the second you’re away from him it’ll feel like an important new part of your life has been ripped away. It almost felt like the universe had sent Justin to you as an apology for all men. Even doing something as simple as a puzzle feels like the most romantic thing in the world. All of the pieces are laid out on the table and you tackle the corners first, working from the outside in. You're sitting so close to each other that your arms are touching, reaching and grabbing at the puzzle pieces in sync like a well oiled machine. He pulls you into his lap toward the end when there's a few pieces left, giving you a high five when all 300 pieces are in their rightful place. Your hand is in his once again, like it belongs there, holding you close and steady.

He lets you go momentarily to cup your face, a look of adoration adorning his that makes your chest clench. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for the last 22 days," Justin whispers, his face so close to yours you can feel his breath on your lips.

"Then why are you still waiting?" You whisper back, barely able to finish your sentence because he's nipping at your bottom lip, teasing you slightly as he runs his thumb across your jaw. You're a puddle in his hands, his lips on yours kissing you with his heart pounding against his chest like he's never kissed anyone before. The kiss is so simple yet the most intense experience either of you have been a part of and you want more. Both of you are fighting for dominance, a somewhat rough dance of tongues and a little bit of teeth increasing in intensity the longer the kiss lasts. You moan into his mouth, feeling him begin to stand at attention underneath you, deepening the kiss by pulling him in even closer by his hair. The other hand is wrapped around his thigh, squeezing his leg and producing goosebumps across his entire body. He had to take a few moments to recover, slightly out of breath at the kiss that he was convinced had just changed his life. "Was that worth the 22 day wait?" You ask with a laugh, holding his head in your hands.

He nods, still incapable of speech, blowing out a breath of relief when the tightness in his pants continues to go down. You lazily make out throughout the entirety of whatever movie he puts on, more than making up for lost time.

You have to be at the facility early for morning workouts so Justin walks you out to your car, pulling you in for one more kiss. "Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe?"

"I will."

Justin lays in bed that night looking at your goodnight text, already planning the third date in his head because he needs to somehow make it better than tonight was. He doesn't have any ideas yet, he just knows he can't get enough of you.

One year later...

You were back in Eugene at your favorite park, ready to get back to your favorite scenery.

"Are you excited?" You ask Dylan, who barks excitedly as you hold onto his leash. That must mean yes.

Justin laughs beside you, grabbing onto your hand. "You ready?" He gives you a kiss on the forehead before the three of you begin your hike.

[bunnis-monsters]

Commissions are open!

You can commission me by messaging me here or discord if interested!

AFTER I SEND MY PAYPAL, YOU HAVE 12 HOURS TO PAY ME BEFORE YOU LOSE YOUR SLOT!

Any discounts?: N/A

500 words: $4

1k words: $8

2k words: $14

3k words: $17

5k words: $25

10k words: $50

Note: you can ask for a different amount of words that aren’t listed, and I’ll give you a new price. It’s whatever I feel like giving you with that word amount. I wouldn’t recommend asking for lower than 500, because it would be difficult to convey a story in less words. But you’re the customer… so… do what you want. I will not write above 10k words.

FAQ

How do I commission you?

Simply message me here or on discord! We can discuss what you want, and afterwards you can pay for your commission! Once I start on your fic, you’ll receive a google docs link so you can check on your fic whenever you’d like!

How do you accept your payments?

Through PayPal or Kofi. If you pay through Kofi, please send me your tumblr and/or discord so I have a way to contact you in case I can’t use my kofi account.

How will we receive our fic?

Google docs! And I’ll post it here and/or on AO3 if you want to read it somewhere else!

What information do you need?

It all depends on what you want! Be prepared to answer my questions. Usually I ask for a basic appearance and body shape, personality, what kind of scenes you want in the story and the tone. I may need more info though, so again be ready to answer questions.

How long will it take?

Generally, it depends on what spot you are on the list and how many words your commission is. Each batch will have a different waitlist and starting time, please pay attention to the advertisements ^^

What do you specialize in?

I prefer writing monster x chubby!fem!reader, but I’ll write for whatever you want, as long as it follows my boundaries below.

Do you post our commissions?

Yes, unless I’ve been asked not to. Any monster x reader commissions I’d prefer to post. If it’s a monster x oc, I’ll make a version where the oc is a reader insert for posting purposes.

What I’ll write

-monster x reader

-NSFW

-romance

-backstories for characters(ocs, dnd characters, etc)

-most kinks and fetishes, pls feel free to ask and I won’t judge, but may turn down some things I’m uncomfy with. Few things: ddlg(and the like), vore, gore, diaper stuff, scat, and vomit are some of my limits.

What I can’t write

-nsfw with minors involved

-explicit gore scenes/torture porn

-things that make me personally uncomfortable

(Once you have the story, you can change the reader’s name to be yours, add your physical appearance to the story, whatever you want, idc.)

Refunds

I will gladly give you a refund if I haven’t started on your fic yet or haven’t written enough for it to cost anything.

For example, if you’ve asked for a 2k commission and I’ve only written 100 words, you can receive a refund, anything over that, I’ll at least have to charge you for the amount of words I’ve already written for you.

You will NOT receive a refund for a full story after it’s been written. If you aren’t satisfied I can edit it, but once it’s finished there are no refunds.

Story options

-You can ask for a series with a set word count for chapter. Say you want a 10k word fic but want it in 2k word chapters. This makes it easier for me to get you updated on the story.

-You can request that I keep your story a complete surprise. I’ll only ask you questions and won’t share details!

Disclaimer: I have the right to turn down anyone for any reason I see fit. I can give you a time that I can start on your fic, but because I am human and have responsibilities outside of commissions, some may be late or take longer than I originally thought. If you are in a rush for your commission, please tell me so I can move you up the list! I am very willing to work with you on getting your fic out faster, but please tell me when you request the commission, not after. Otherwise, I will work on it at my own pace ^^

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Omg you have no idea how excited I am for the new George fic, a NOVEL!?! You spoil us, you truly do. May I please see the tiniest of snippets? Don't wanna ask for too much !!

Yeah, it's so wild to consider that I wrote a novel in a week, but a short novel (or a novella) is 40k and the fic is 50k in total lmao. Because once I started writing these characters, I couldn't stop. Also, I have even started working on a companion piece for this fic with ideas that I wanted to use but couldn't find a place for in the main fic. So... I might be releasing two fics in this verse. Who knows. I am just soooo obsessed with this George x Slytherin Reader dynamic

NOW POSTED - Part One of the fic is now posted <3

(and if you are reading this after April 2025, Part Two may be posted as well and it might already be complete. it's a two part fic)

I'm Not Angry (Anymore) - George Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader (Enemies to Lovers) - FANFIC PREVIEW

Warnings: There's not much in the way of warnings for this small section, but the fuller fic will have more emotions, more elements of angst - including themes of blood purity, family betrayal, and all the themes that come with the war times in Harry Potter (death, torture, killing people due to personal prejudice); the longer version of the fic will also have smut - a lot of it. This section only has some descriptions of slightly creepy masks, the horrors of working in retail, and Fred being rude toward the reader character being her back. Also, the reader character goes by she/her pronouns, but most of the pronouns used throughout the fic will be you/yours.

Word Count: 1,700

If you want to see the full fic when it comes out in a few weeks, go over to my writing blog @sundrop-writes and follow me there (but it will be reblogged to this blog as well, so you can follow me here if you want to)

...

“Um, excuse me, Miss?” 

You were distracted away from your work when someone called for your attention - you had been opening and unpacking a new box of Screaming Yo-Yos, but you put that aside for now. You looked up and put on your best (rather fake) customer service smile, the shelf in front of you still half empty, only halfway done as you abandoned it to help the customer. 

You rose up from your back-aching kneeling position on the floor and wiped your hands on your apron - an ugly, obnoxiously bright orange one with the Weasley W on the chest, your uniform. A bit of public embarrassment to go along with the forced nicety that you had to participate in while doing the job. You straightened yourself to better speak to the person - a woman in her forties who most definitely wasn’t the regular clientele for the shop. 

“Yes?” You said, your voice bright in a very forced way, your fake smile continuing to beam toward her as she responded with a grin. 

“My son absolutely loves this sort of stuff, and I was wondering if this would be a good gift for his birthday?” She asked, gesturing toward a large fireworks display behind her. 

Your eyes wandered toward the obligatory ‘must be at least sixteen years old to purchase’ sign that the twins had put on the fireworks display. One that Hermione had been down their throats about adding after multiple of her first and second year students had nearly taken fingers off from lighting the fireworks and then holding onto them as they exploded, despite the clear instructions on the packaging. 

“How old is your son?” You asked, trying to sound politely curious rather than cautious. You knew better than to scare away a potential customer. 

“He’s ten. About to turn eleven. I wanted to get him something for his big day.” She said, clearly beaming with pride. 

“Those are a bit, uh… advanced.” You said, choosing your words very carefully. “I think I know something much better for someone his age.” 

You put a gentle hand on her shoulder and guided her over to a section of products that the twins had recently come out with - animal themed masks with animated, moving features that made genuine, loud animal sounds when the wearer put them on. They were a big hit with younger kids, especially for sneaking up behind people and scaring them with a loud sound. Even if you found the display to be loud and annoying, you did have to admit that it was adorable to see smaller kids put the masks on and get so excited to become their favourite animal. 

“Morph-O-Masks.” You said, motioning toward the display with an outstretched, showy arm that felt far too familiar of your red-haired bosses. They were rubbing off on you in a painfully obvious way. “They make genuine animal sounds, have moving tongues and ears, and we just released a Hungarian Horntail-” 

“Oh my little Gareth would love this one,” 

The woman said, clearly excited, picking up the classic lion mask with the large, furry mane and the mouth that opened wide to let out a loud, realistic roar. 

“He’s been hoping to get into Gryffindor, just like his father. I didn’t go to Hogwarts myself. I’m American, you see, so I went to Salem. But I moved here when my Walter proposed. And we had sweet little Gareth a few months later. Fat little baby, he was-” 

“That is our best seller,” You commented with a nod, trying to gently cut off the woman’s rambling. 

“Thank you so much, dear.” The woman thanked you, and much to your internal annoyance - she then pulled you in for a tight hug. 

You rolled your eyes sharply over her shoulder, your fake smile dropping into a harsh scowl where she couldn’t see, and you were simply thankful when the hug lasted no more than a three count (because you most definitely were counting in your head). When she pulled away, you directed her to the cash register where Fred was waiting and got back to stocking the yo-yos. 

Your thankfulness quickly ended the moment you turned around and found the other twin waiting for you. George was lingering behind you, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. 

“‘That’s our best seller’,” He repeated your words, mocking you in a girlish tone that did not at all sound like you. 

“Shut up,” You griped, rolling your eyes again, shoving your hands sharply into the pockets of your apron in order to resist the urge to hit him. You had to force yourself to remember that it wasn’t your school days anymore, and you couldn’t afford to lose your job as much as you could afford to lose a few house points over your petty squabbling. 

“No, really, that was great.” He continued on, still grinning with an intense satisfaction - it made you want to slap him. Not because you didn’t like to see him smiling, but because it felt like he was mocking you. “You’re finally settling into the job now, eh?” 

“It’s work,” You shrugged, eager to end the conversation. 

You attempted to move around him to get back to unpacking the yo-yos - but with the isles cramped so tightly together and with his body so stupidly broad, he easily blocked your way as he leaned in closer, forcing you to take a step back as he moved to grab something off the Morph-O-Mask display. 

You hated that you caught a whiff of his cologne along the way, during the moment that you were a bit too close to him as he moved toward the display and you couldn’t move away fast enough. The scent was far too strong, a cedarwood and lavender that you hated, and even so, his hard day’s work was causing the slightest bit of sweat to seep through - it was truly awful.

(That’s what you told yourself, anyway.) 

“I see you still haven’t sold any of the serpents yet.” He chimed, holding up a scaly bright green serpent mask from the display. “If this was a house war, I would say that Gryffindor is winning,” 

You knew that it was no coincidence that the original line of masks had consisted of a golden yellow lion, a green serpent, a bronze eagle, and a black and white badger (one that let out a very terrifying snarl and had rather creepy beady red eyes - that was the reason you hadn’t sold many of those, not due to any lack of loyalty from Hufflepuffs). It wasn’t your fault that kids were more attracted to the ones that came in the secondary release - different types of dragons, a spider with snapping fangs and dozens of eyes, even the black cat that purred and flicked its ears sold out more often than the serpent. 

“Did you consider the inherent bias?” You posed, tilting your head at him. “This is a shop owned by two Gryffindors, therefore you are bound to have more Gryffindor customers - especially due to the bias of your grassroots marketing back at Hogwarts, which only took place primarily within Gryffindor Tower,” 

George’s face knit with intense thought as you explained this, and you were glad that for once, he was pensive and taking in your words, rather than cutting you off with some kind of joke. 

“And even unconsciously, you put more care and thought into the design of the lion mask, so it did turn out to be the best one,” You hated to admit it, but it was true. 

Between the quality of the fur and the intense beauty of the eyes - the way it raised its mouth and let out the deep intimidating roar - it was beautiful.

“And it’s the one you have used primarily for marketing,” You pointed to the front window, where the lion mask was on a stand advertising the new product. “It’s like you set up the serpent to fail. And then you blame it on a poor stock girl for not shilling it hard enough,” 

You ground intense sarcasm into your final words, taking the green mask from his hands and tossing it back onto the shelf with the others, finally skirting around him as he stood there shocked into silence. He was genuinely impressed by the amount of thought you had put into it. He finally snapped out of his shock by the time you had knelt back down beside the box of yo-yos, continuing to neatly stock the shelf with them. 

“Well, perhaps next time we should consult a Slytherin for further research and development,” He said, giving you a grin. 

“Let me know when you find one who’s willing to donate her time,” You replied, brisk and cool, grabbing the finally empty cardboard box from the yo-yos and shuffling back to the storage room, thankful to have an excuse to finally flee away from George and escape the conversation. 

You were behind the thick wood of the storage room door by the time that George wandered over to the front counter. 

“That was smooth.” Fred breathed out, entirely sarcastic. 

“Oi, that was the longest we’ve ever gone without her insulting me. I am making progress.” George replied. 

“Yeah, at this point, you’ll be going on your first date in your fifties and be married by the time I have grandchildren,” Fred joked. 

“You don’t even know if Angelina wants kids,” George prodded, eager to navigate around the subject of his pathetic crush. 

“Yeah, but at least I know she wants me. At least I’m not hung up on some stone cold Slytherin bit-” 

“Hey!” George chastised, knowing that he would have easily hurled that kind of language at you during your school days, understanding why Fred rolled his eyes. “Maybe I like cold.” 

“Then go stick your cock in the ice box,” Fred sighed. “Maybe it’ll help you get over this nonsense so you can actually pick someone who’s good for you.” 

George didn’t say anything further, not daring to voice the words to a brother who just couldn’t understand. There was no one else for him, no one else who lived in his heart - no one else but you.

...

NOTE - This is just a small preview of a longer fic that will come out later. If you want to see the full fic when it comes out, go and follow my writing blog, or follow me here, as I will reblog the fic here when it's posed.

[plor-bindery]

Bound: Long Haul by @wolfpants

As a writer, I often am fondest of my shorter stories, but these fics are not the obvious choice for binding because they're so little. I actually started setting this story a while ago but put the typeset aside when I realized it was going to be such a low page count.

But more recently, I have been experimenting with a pamphlet bind to see if short stories and/or text blocks can be bound to my satisfaction, and yep! They can!

I love this short story by wolfpants and I have read it often enough that it deserved to be bound and put in my library. The story contains lovely delicious smut and (as you'd expect from wolf) excellent character-building, dialogue, and just exactly the right amount of realism. Wolf writes true adult characters and I adore this about their writing.

More about process and materials under the cut!

Materials: This is a quarto letter pamphlet bind using letter-sized 24# paper. The end papers are chiyogami acquired in Montreal. Book boards are actually cut from matte board that came in some packet of supplies or another, about 1 mm thickness and quite a bit bendier than my usual 2 mm book board, but worked nicely and feels appropriate for this little baby.

Book cloth is wooqu off Amazon as per. I sewed the pamphlet using three strands of waxed embroidery floss. Spine is strengthened with mull and a little strip of the same paper as the text block. Cover decoration is HTV vinyl. A few titles are foiled with toner-activated foil and a laminator. (Big shout-out to @sits-bound for technical assistance with figuring out that process!)

Process: This is a sewn 64-page/16 sheet quarto. I followed DAS Bookbinding's YouTube video here pretty closely except (as you can see) I went for a full cloth bind. I also added the paper layer on the spine before wrapping in cloth. I did this because I found mull alone — at least my cheap-ass mull — was not making for a smooth spine. The paper was a huge help on this front.

This is actually my third attempt at this style of binding (not counting the versions I did in class under adult supervision) so please do not be too impressed, lol.

The whole thing is held together by 50/50 corn starch/PVA mix (as well as the thread.)

I trimmed the tail twice by accident so then I had to trim the head twice too, and so that's why my margins are slender. :D

The HTV decoration was designed by yours truly (if you look at it for very long you'll be like "oh yeah I can see that" ahahaha) but I was really pleased with how it came out. I think I'm FINALLY finding my successful approaches for applying HTV. And yes, it was a monumental pain in my ass to weed. Worth it!

Peep the grease mark on the front title page. Sexy. No idea where it's from but yowza.

Bind short fic! Short fic also deserves binding! *steps off soapbox*

[korn-dawg]

get to know your author !! (me)

i feel like i've gone on a little too long without properly introducing myself, so here's my intro !! (here's my masterlist too hehe)

⛧☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆⛧☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆⛧☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

name : you can call me just about anything ! Ivelle works best, though !!

age : 19

sexuality : if you couldn't tell by the colors already i'm a lesbian hehe

fav color : either yellow or green !!

fav artists/bands : ghost bc, she wants revenge, bauhaus, skinny puppy, strawberry switchblade, tv girl, soap&skin, the cure, deftones, girl in red, coven, siouxsie & the banshees, slipknot, snot, rob zombie/white zombie, korn, sophia isella, twin temple, arctic monkeys, baby metal, and hanabie. !!!

fav sanrio character(s) : the little twin stars, kiki and lala !!!!

fav games/game series : resident evil (fav is prob 5), silent hill, lollipop chainsaw, TLOU, COD (specifically BO:3), GOW, BG3, animal crossing, mario kart

fav show : arcane or cells at work!

fav movie : texas chainsaw massacre

fav emoji : 🪐

hobbies : writing (duh), photography, baking, dyeing my hair, sewing

working towards being .. : an obstetric anesthesiologist !

how often do i post ? : i post pretty often ! around a few times a week, whenever have free time !

why did i start writing ? : i had a fic idea that i didn't see anywhere so i wrote it myself ... 😭

who do i like writing the most ? : ada wong; i know i've published legit only 1 fic on her but i have sosososo many more in my drafts i love her sm

who do i like writing the least ? : men.

am i taking requests ? : yes !! i do have a tracker if you wanna double check on my master list !!!

do i do emoji anons ? : yes, i do !! there r literally no spots filled i jst know my anons by the type of fics they request (i can kinda piece it tg if you request multiple versions of the same concept 😭)

do i do fic recs? : not currently, but i might in the future !

why do i write fics the way i do ? : I write fics in a hc-esque format because it's easier for me to keep my posting at a consistent pace (full form fics take time for me to complete) and I find them overall more enjoyable to write !! This doesn't mean I won't write full fics, they're just gonna be rare to see !

who do i write for ? : I write for almost anyone !! Fandoms I'll write the best for are TLOU, Resident Evil, Arcane, and COD ! If I don't know the character you're asking for, I'll try to research them and their behavior, and will try to portray them as close to cannon as I can !

what won't i write? : I won't write any x male!reader's because a.) I'm not a man, and b.) men are on my dni list ! I won't write male char. x reader's because I'm a lesbian and the writing process has to be enjoyable for me !

I also won't write dub-con, non-con, water sports, vomit (in a sexual manner)(a character being drunk or sick is fine idc), scat, forced inebriation, incest, major age gap, g!p, or vore !!

⛧☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆⛧☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆⛧☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

there's no fucking way you read all that LMFAO

[storiesfromafan]

Track 01. Juno

A/N: its been a while. So sorry for my lack of posts. I've been struggling with inspiration. So please bare with me while I try to work on my other works.

Its Valentines Day here in Australia, with it we got Sabrina Carpenter's Short n Sweet Deluxe today! I've been listening to it for most of the day, and today was the day I finally wrote something inspired by Juno 😅

Forgive me if it's not great, but I am happy with it. Also, with enough encouragement, I might do a 'Deluxe' version with added smut at 18+ lol.

And this is part of a new series, it will get its own master post and linked to my master list. Basically one-shots inspired by music or song fics.

Warning/s: mention of breasts and feeling up, possible spelling/grammar mistakes

It was wrong, so very wrong. Sneaking around with a Vandal for months. But it was not only thrilling, but Benny was the right amount of bad boy with a touch of sweet.

Yet every time you’re with Peter – your boyfriend – did you feel guilty for what you’ve done, and the thoughts that were running through your head. How it would feel to have Benny’s arm around you, hand lazily running up and down your arm. Him whispering sweet nothing’s in your ear. Or how he’d manhandle you the right way behind closed doors.

Peter was nice – maybe a little too nice – but he was who society expected you to be with. Not a Vandal. Even if Benny was extremely better than your boyfriend.

Laying on your bed, wearing one the cute, frilly nighties Benny got you – as he just loved you looking all the bit sweet for him. The clock read eleven-thirty at night. The neighbourhood was rather quiet, while you filled your space with the low volume of a record. The only light in the room was your beside lamp.

You want to say you weren’t waiting up for Benny, but you were. The man had been gone for over a week on a ride with the club. With no indication of when he’d be back.

“I’ll be back sometime soon baby. Wait up for me?”

And like the love sick kitty you are, here you were; longing and waiting. The next song began to play, you sighed rolling onto your back and pouting. You swear he had to be doing this on purpose. He did like to tease you, though this was more torture.

God, you missed his touch, both hands and lips. The way his rough finger tips would glide over your skin, him commenting on how soft you felt. Or how he’d hold onto you, clear display of strength and power.

His lips, a full cupids bow that would softly lift in a smile. A pleased feel to it before he would place it to your neck and lay kisses. First soft and gentle, before becoming sloppy and a little teethy. You’d remind him not to leave any marks, no evidence was key to your little rendezvous. Though Benny wanted more, he wanted you completely.

And you had thought about it, ditching Peter and being Benny’s girl full-time. In theory it was perfect – beautiful even. But in reality, it terrified you. You’d seen how some of the Vandal women were treated by other women in town. Vandal women might as well have a bright red A embroidered on their clothing for the way they are treated.

So going from a sweet and adored community girl to a Vandal's old lady, it would get you treated like a leper. Not to mention your parents. They would go nuts to find out you were with Benny. That’s why secret meetings were best. Your little house the ideal love bubble.

Then you heard it, soft rumbling down the side street, your house being on the corner. Your heart skipped a beat. It had to be him, you just knew it. Sitting up on your bed you strained your hearing. Only to hear the rumbling stop. Again your heart skipped a beat. Yes, it was Benny.

Quickly you moved into a better positing. Sitting so your legs were off to the side, weight resting on your left hand, arm holding you up. You shook your hair, and fixed it with your free hand. Before setting it on your upper thigh. You moistened your lips when you heard movement in the backyard.

You’d pleaded Benny to leave his bike around the side. And jump the back fence, so not to be seen. You made sure to keep the back-door unlocked for him. Only locking it when he doesn’t show up, which was rare. The door handle rattled, and then the door as it was opened. Swiftly it closed and you could hear Benny moving around downstairs, probably removing his boots and jacket.

Excitement filled you and almost exploded when you heard him at the bottom of the staircase.

“Ya up there, baby?” He called out.

You rolled your eyes, but only smiled brighter. “Sure am".

No reply, other than Benny's feet clomping up each step. Every step closer, your heart beat with every step. The anticipation was close to snapping, you were close to just going to Benny and launching yourself at him. But you remained where you were, poised and like a baby doll. Just how he liked it.

Your door slowly swung open, revealing Benny, who moved to lean against your door frame. His stormy blues roamed over you, starting from your feet and moving long your body before reaching your face. A content smile pulled at his full lips, that slightly hid by the scruff on his chin.

He looked just as good as the last time you saw him, yet maybe better. The distance really doing a number on you, on Benny. You could read it on his face, he’d missed you so damn much.

Benny then moved, crossing your room to take a seat beside you. His left arm moving over your hips, hand placed on the bed. He was caging you in. His gaze focused on your face, taking it all in.

“Damn baby, you look better then I remembered" Benny said lowly, voice extra gravelly.

He then looked down your body once more and then back to your face. Solidifying his words. His right hand coming up to pushed back your hair, finger tips grazing your neck and the strap of your nightie, before pushing it over and down.

You shuddered, the way he looked at you and his movements, just driving you wild.

“You don’t look so bad yourself" you replied with a seductive tone. Proud to have managed to get those words out, as your brain was going to mush.

Benny smirked. But remained silent. Opting to leaning in and planting a tender kiss to your rosy lips. You almost fell to the bed in a puddle of goo. And just from a small kiss. Usually it was the long, exploring French kisses Benny served you that had this effect.

His hand came back to your neck, finding its home there, as Benny moved his head while still kissing you. A swipe of his tongue along your bottom lip told you, you were about to get that all nerve ending frazzling kiss.

Without hesitation you opened your mouth, Benny’s tongue darting in and to your own. His hand holding you in place as he greedily kissed you, tongue caressing and possessing yours. Soft noises being ripped from your throat spurring him on more. As well as how much he’d missed you.

Oh God, this man knew how to kiss you, and what it does to you. He could do or ask anything of you right now, and you’d gladly accept or go along with it. Pulling back, you were left kiss drunk, and he had only just begun.

“You look so pretty after I’ve kissed ya...” He muttered, taking you all in.

Benny then moved in again, this time not asking for permission, still working on the permission he’d already received. And you weren’t protesting. With some movement, you laid back on the bed as Benny moved over you, resting between your legs. Those rough hands of his grasping your upper thighs, only to slide upwards, exploring what lay beneath one of his favourite items of clothing to buy you.

He noted the fabric of your panties as his hands moved over your hips. Up the sides of your waist, and over your ribs. Finally finding your breasts, which were free of any covering such as a bra. The supple flesh warm to his palms, as he enjoyed the feel. You sighed into his mouth at the contact he had with them. Telling Benny you had missed his hands there.

Pulling back, Benny moved his lips down the side of your neck. You resorted to tilting your head back from the sensations this man was giving you. His touch gravely missed, his kiss just as much the same.

“Ya feel so good" Benny mumbled against your neck. “Ya always feel so damn good".

More kisses were pressed to your neck, altering between soft and hard. Occasionally grazing his teeth against your flesh. Every time his teeth were used you would make a noise, a mix of a whine and a moan.

“Fuck baby" he groaned. “Keep makin’ those noises and I’m gonna loose it".

Benny tightened his hold on your breasts, telling you he might lose it soon. But it only brought forth a moan from you. Which in turn made him groan.

“I wanna keep goin' baby" Benny started, pulling back from your neck and looking to your face. “But I gotta talk to ya first...”

That was like a bucket of ice water being thrown over you. Putting out the fire that had been growing inside. You wiggled around, to which Benny moved back more, giving you room.

“H-have I done s-something wrong...?” You asked softly, scared to talk at a normal volume.

Benny blinked before shaking his head. “No baby, no!” He paused, watching you relax slightly. “It’s just, I’ve been thinkin’ while on the road...”

You remained quiet, waiting with baited breath for him to continue.

With a sigh Benny got up and took a spot next to you on the bed. Back resting against the headboard of your bed. He wasn’t one for confrontation. But he needed you to hear him out, listen to his concerns and needs.

“I can’t keep doin' this – sneakin’ in and hidin' in this house" he paused, sparing you a look. “I want more baby, I want you, I need you. I want to be your man...”

“You are...” you said softly.

He shook his head. “No I’m not, ya boyfriend is. You go out there with him. Let him show ya off, and it is killin' me. I want to show you off, have you ridin’ on the back of my bike. My woman”.

Benny’s voice gained confidence and desperation. And you heard it – heard him. It pulled at your heartstrings.

“I might not be able to give ya what he might...but I can promise ya I will be here when you need me, always take care of you as best I can. I’ll give ya the whole world if ya ask...I love you so damn much baby...”

That was it, those three little words; I love you. The man next to you saying them after a short time, compared to your boyfriend who still hadn’t said them. Benny laid out all his cards, nowhere to hide.

Without a thought you moved to straddle Benny’s hips, resting your behind on his lap. Hands taking a hold of the gorgeous Vandals face. Your (colour) eyes looking deeply into his, searching to make sure he meant those three little words. And he did.

“Are you sure?” You asked with baited breath. “You love me?”

He nodded. “Yes, baby. I love ya".

You crashed your lips to his, putting everything into it, every emotion you were feeling. Benny grabbed your hips, holding you close to him as he let you kiss him. You took charge. Your tongue pushed into his mouth, exploring and savouring him. After a few moments you pulled back, not without giving him a few more pecks to his lips.

“I-I love you too" you breathlessly said, heart racing.

The smile that cross Benny’s face lit up his face. The words he was relieved to hear, but weren’t expecting. Pulling you in again for a hard, feverish kiss, Benny moved you both around so you were under him again. This was it, the start of something new. You both knew it and were going to do it.

You were going to breakup with Peter, and become Benny’s girl, your parents and the town be damned. And Benny was going to be the man you needed. And right now he would be attentive. After all you’d been patiently waiting for his return. He owed you for staying up waiting for him.

Tomorrow was approaching but right now, all that mattered was you both. Needing, exploring and satisfying the other in every way possible.

[kiestrokes]

Day 22: Jung Wooyoung | NSFW

▸ Idol: Jung Wooyoung of ATEEZ ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: active WIP, foreplay, sexual tension, feelings, slice of life. ▸ Vibe: this was the first ever fic idea that I had for ATEEZ back in 2023, I just was trying to find a plotline for it, aside from just a WooSan!threesome. College bestie Woo, hot neighbor San, eventual smut. Parts are loosely based on my funny irl experiences of my 20's. And I mean loosely, I didn't fuck any of my friends. ▸ Warnings: language, miscommunications, feelings of betrayal, bisexual struggles, soft angst and hurt feelings.

Sexually Explicit Content: sexual tension, consented kissing, over the clothes touch of the vagina, cuddling, idk there's nothing really here imo.

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. THIS IS A WIP! (it is being posted for my wipmas.) It is not complete; this is very much a rough outline/first run through. So I consulted my big three @chans-room @minisugakoobies @minttangerines for the special version of todays WIP-mas. Thank you kindly for putting up with me. Enjoy the king prawn meme edition of this 🤗 full text version at the end for those the photos won't load for!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

College friend Wooyoung. You’re in a coed dorm. You first meet Woo making out with another guy and just assume he’s gay.

The two of you go about your blooming friendship with no hiccups. He’s affectionate and cuddly with everyone so it never lingers in your mind to be more. Him sleeping over, cuddling, morning woods, dirty dancing, kisses.

Until you’re graduated and moved into an apartment together. You’re in the kitchen doing something. One of Wooyoungs causal partners compliments your butt and you’re surprised.

Wooyoung speaks up “right? She has a fantastic ass.”

“Since when do you look at my butt?”

“I’ve always looked at your butt.”

You shrug it off knowing how hyper sexual he is. Until you’re at a holiday party and see Wooyoung come out of the bathroom with a woman.

You’re confused.

One of your friends asks you why, you explain Wooyoung is gay.

“Well yes he’s bisexual.”

“What?” They laugh thinking you’re joking, “wait you didn’t know? I thought you two were” they hand motion.

You blink confused and text your college roommate. They confirm, informing your Wooyoung has given them several orgasms. The room spins and you excuse yourself. Leaving on your own.

Stumbling up your stairs since the elevator is broken. You slip on something and the new neighbor catches you.

Wooyoung comes running up then, greeting the neighbor and taking you into your apartment.

You blurt out “you’re not gay?”

Woo puts your shoes away and turns to you confused.

“Of course I am.”

He gets down on his knees to help you of out your tights like always. You stop him.

“No Woo you’re bisexual.”

He smiles at you, “yes silly.”

His smile slowly falls as you stare deadly at him. “Wait- you didn’t- how?”

He sits back, fingers braced on your calf for balance.

“Can we just go to sleep?”

You stand, after brushing his hand off. Wooyoung catches your wrist.

“Wait are you mad at me?”

You sigh, “no im just confused, we can talk about this tomorrow.”

His thumb traces circles over your pulse. “Ok.”

He leans in to give you his usual goodnight kiss and you pull away. The hurt written on his face. He lets you go to bed. The next morning he’s peaking in. You call him over and he wastes no time climbing in and cuddling you.

“I thought you knew.”

“It’s my fault for being so focused on my studies.”

“No!” You lay there listening to his heartbeat.

“Are you disappointed?”

“Why would I be disappointed?”

“Everyone loves a gay best friend. Bisexual is like the knock off verison.”

Woo looks sad, you sit up to look down at him.

“Bisexuals are definitely not the knock off gays. You can’t help what gender or non gender you’re attracted to.”

He reaches up to stroke your bottom lip, “you didn’t let me kiss you goodnight.”

You tug his hand down.

“It’s just a little different right now.”

Woo nods.

Things are kind of back to normal.

Both of you are crushing on the hot new neighbor. You haven’t let Woo kiss you goodnight. He’s sad but respects your boundary. Until it boils over one night and you two fight.

“I just miss kissing you goodnight.”

“You fucked my college roommate but never me, was I not good enough.”

Wooyoung gapes at you, hands tugging on his hair at the temples. Gets up. Paces and comes back.

“You were beyond good enough. So good I didn’t want to risk losing the friendship we were growing.”

You stare at him and then he scoots forward to take your hands in his.

“I never fucked you because you’re so much more than a causal lay to me.”

You nod. You let him kiss you goodnight that night, it’s like everything snaps. There’s a gasp and then Wooyoung has you pressed into the wall, more than a goodnight kissing you. You cling to him and his hand trails down your body. Heel of his hand pressing into your clothed cunt.

“Ahh Wooyoung” you gasp into the side of his neck.

And he backs off. Bracing a hand on the wall next to you.

“Sorry sorry. I’ve just been so worked up about our relationship that I haven’t gotten laid.”

He kisses your cheek and heads to bed without another word.

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

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

[reallychaoticwoo]

Hi love✨

I don’t know if you have written this before but could you write a fic of how ot8 react to you being a virgin and specifically saving yourself just for them ??

⛓️ Heya! I'm not doing full fics atm but heres a quick drabble for ya!(: I hope you enjoy!⛓️

✨️ Worthy ✨️

❤️Pairing: Ateez x reader

⚠️Warnings: cussing, suggestiveness, fluff🖤

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way‼️

🖤Sorry i didnt go into too much detail, if youd like a smuttier version let me know! This is just the reaction not so much the "action" lol. Hope you enjoy and thank you for your support🖤

If you enjoyed this, you can find my full masterlist Here

"I just took that bdsm test I've been seeing going around, and it turns out I really am a brat!" Wooyoung said with a huge chuckle as he plopped himself down on the far end of the couch. "We could've told you that, Woo. You really didn't need to take a test." San ruffled the younger man's hair sporting a sly grin. Wooyoung just rolled his eyes and replied with a huff, "Well, it turns out I'm also a switch, which means I'm not always a brat, so HA!"

"You know I've been wanting to take that test myself." Hongjoong added into the conversation nonchalantly. "I'd be interested to know what it says about me as well." Seonghwa was the next to pipe in. It wasn't long before the entire group was talking about what they thought the others results of the test would be. Everyone wanted to take a guess before taking the actual test to see how close they all got.

Yup, this was your Friday night. Hanging out with the chaotic group of friends you acquired many years ago. You wondered how long they'd keep up this conversation. It's not like you were well versed on the topic. You knew some stuff, obviously, but you'd never actually done any of it, so you decided to just stay quiet. That is, until they noticed.

"What about you y/n? What do you think our results would be?" Mingi asked, looking at you with an adorably shy yet confident smile on his face. "Uh.. um.. I mean, Woo being a brat sounds right, I guess. I think San would probably be into whatever keeps brats from being bratty. Hongjoong seems like he would be sweet, I suppose. Hwa could be mean or sweet.. um.. Yeo.. idk about Yeo.." Before you could finish, Yunho sat down beside you and gave you the most puzzled look.

"Do you not - Do you not know anything about bdsm?" He cocked his head to the side like a puppy trying to figure out what a new sound was. "Uhm.. no.. not really. Is that a bad thing?" Looking down, fiddling with you thumbs, you felt Yunho lean back against the couch, a soft giggle escaping his lips. "No, not really a bad thing. Just surprised. You didn't strike me as a vanilla." You shot him a questioning look. "It means lame in bed." Wooyoung butted in unable to contain his laughter at your 'lameness'.

Hwa was the next to move spots sitting down on the other side of you. "So what do you know then?" You thought to yourself for a moment, trying to decide if now was the time you'd be telling them you were still a virgin. You'd managed to keep it under wraps this long, but all things must come to an end eventually. "I mean, I know how sex works, obviously. I know some people like it more rough than others and all that. I just don't know all the extra stuff, considering I've never tried anything." The look on all of their faces was utter confusion, and maybe a bit of shock.

San leaned forward, turning his head to face you, "What do you mean you've never tried anything? Like just crazy stuff or like actually anything?" There was no stopping the racing in your chest right now, nor the blush that was prominent on your cheeks. "I mean anything aside from like figuring or handjobs." Why did you just tell them that they didn't need to know. Of course, they were your best friends, so it's not like this is an abnormal conversation for the group.

"Are you.. have you.." Yeosang started to ask. "Yes, I'm still a virgin." You sighed. You were sure your face was so red right now it could be a neon sign. You felt like you were gonna puke, or maybe cry, or you weren't even sure, but you were so beyond embarrassed right now. "AWWWWW little baby y/n has never had any dick??" If looks could kill Wooyoung would be dead in his spot with the look you just shot him.

Finally joining, Jongho, of course, had to be the one to ask, "Is there like a reason? Are you saving yourself for marriage, or is it religious? We've known you for years, and you never striked me as someone who'd put a lot of importance on the matter." Of course, they all already knew you weren't really religious, but that didn't mean you didn't have your reasons.

"I have been saving myself but not for like religious reasons or anything." You knew what was coming next. You were shaking in your spot, praying the two men next to you couldn't feel the fact you were basically having a personal earthquake next to them. Hongjoon was quick with the follow-up. "So what are you saving yourself for exactly?" You felt like he just knew your answer. Something about the look in his eyes said he'd caught on to why you hadn't let anyone else have you. You knew that was unrealistic, but you also knew this man caught onto everything. There was no hiding it anymore.

"If I tell you, but you have to promise not to laugh at me, or freak out, or just anything. Okay?" They all nodded, a few okays, some hums. "Okay, here goes nothing, I guess.. I've been saving myself for you.. all of you.. I know that's kind of stupid, considering we're all just friends, but I guess since I'm already telling you guys my secrets tonight, you should know I like you as more than friends too." If you could shrink into yourself at that moment, you would. You hid your face behind your hands, praying they'd just let that be that, and you could all pretend it never happened. Of course you weren't that lucky.

Feeling two sets of arms wrapping around you, you forced yourself to peek out from behind your hands. The whole room was the most silent they all have ever been. Their faces a mix of shock and some other emotion you couldn't quite figure out. "I-I can't tell you how happy we are to hear that." Seonghwa all but whispered as he held onto you tighter. Yunho nodded into you back, agreeing with his arms around you as well.

"Do you know how long we've been holding in our feelings for you, y/n?" Hongjoong asked, his eyes a little glassy. All you could manage was to shake your head in response. "We've been wanting you for years.. We just never said anything because we were worried that having eight men tell you they want you in every way possible would have you running for the hills." You laughed. You laughed loudly and uncontrollably at his statement. The look of confusion and hurt on his face had you trying to reply quickly through your laughter. "Any normal sane girl, yeah, probably would run for the hills. But I've been in love with every single one of you for years now, and to be honest, I couldn't imagine a life without all of you in it."

Wooyoung stood up and made his way behind the couch to where you were sitting. He leaned forward to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you back into him. "Well, luckily for everyone we all won't have to be without each other ever again. Now, with that being said, I'd love to go first and teach you a thing or two. I promise I'll be nice." With a cheeky wink and a Cheshire grin, he leaned forward to lay a sultry kiss to your jaw before nibbling at your ear.

[ipseitydelrey]

Could you maybe do a fic about Carmy and the reader where they dated all through high school and carmy asked the reader to marry him and she says no bc she doesn’t want to hold him back from going to NYC ?

THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY

as they go by ☆ c. berzatto

ship carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings angst with an ambiguous ending (sorry babes <3), slight manipulation?, a hell of a lot of arguing, possible break-up (choice is yours), not beta-read

word count 1.5k

summary initially, you were fine with having a long-distance relationship with carmy while he was in new york city. after all, you’re just his girlfriend; you were happy with that, and that’s how you want it to stay when he’s gone.

a/n this took so insanely and unnecessarily long and i am so sorry for postponing this fic. took a while and it was difficult to write, but i felt determined to finish this. disclaimer: not my best work but i legit tried

The proposal came as a shock. You were sure it had been many seconds, maybe even a minute or two since Carmy had uttered the words “Will you marry me?” as if it was a common phrase, thrown out into the open.

To be fair, you both did discuss the possibility of marriage in the future. But you were naïve high schoolers, merely seventeen and blind to the problems you’d have to face in your personal and shared lives.

You weren’t annoyed or angry that Carmy had gotten the opportunity in New York City; on the contrary, you were happy. It’s a great thing for his career in the culinary world, and seeing him be so excited about the prospect made you feel so proud to see how far he had come.

Granted, maintaining your relationship while he was in New York and you stayed in Illinois would be hard. You told him to expect a lot of phone and video calls, as well as a bombardment of messages, but you didn’t know at the time that he would be gone for a year at least. Still, you both agreed to try.

You could handle being a long-distance girlfriend, but being a long-distance wife?

“I don’t know,” you default to as no other words could come to mind.

Carmy looks at you confused. “You don’t know?” he parrots. “What do you mean?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.; you don’t even know why you couldn’t just say a simple “yes” or “no.” It’s hard to look him in the eyes, especially when an argument is now inevitable, so you keep your eyes glued to your fidgeting hands in your lap.

“Well, um,” you stammer, struggling to find your verbal footing, “I don’t…wanna move to New York.”

Although you only see a blurred version of him through your peripheral vision, Carmy nods slightly and purses his lips. “I know that already.”

You sigh softly, thinking of what to say next. “I’m comfortable here — I like it in Chicago. It’s just…I don’t know if we can make a long distance thing work if we’re married. I’d be busy and I’m sure you would be too, I don’t know how we would be able to see each other in person if our schedules are so full.”

He sighs; you don’t know if this is actually how he feels, but you swear that he’s annoyed that you didn’t say yes. “Is that it? Y’know, I can just stay here if it worries you—”

“No,” you’re quick to cut him off as you snap your head to look at him. “I don’t want you to give up on an amazing opportunity just because of me.”

“There’s other Michelin star restaurants in Chicago,” he reasons. “I can apply to one of them and stay here.”

“But New York!” You didn’t mean to say it that harshly, so you breathe and try to regain your composure. “I don’t know why you would want to give up being a chef in New York just for me.”

Carmy buries his face in his hands, but his mouth is still exposed. “I’m not…giving it up; I’m just relocating, that’s all. Why are you trying to put my career ahead of you?”

You scoff at the notion. “I’m not.”

“But you are,” he counters exasperatingly. “Why?”

Your lips form a line and you look down. The words are hard to conjure, but they come eventually. “You’ve just loved to cook for so long…and now you have a really good offer and I want you to take it.”

“I’ve loved you for longer.” You can’t really argue when it’s kind of the truth. But then again, he’s always had a interest in cooking — and you’re sure that he developed an interest in you after that.

Knowing that you won’t win this portion of the argument, you sigh, and try to change the topic…sort of. “There’s also another thing,” you mention, and he looks at you again. “I don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

His tone has a tinge of frustration. “You mean marriage?” he asks sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You’re starting to grow annoyed at his stubbornness; of course you knew he could get like this, but he’s really not letting this conversation go for another day. “You know I didn’t mean like that.”

“Well it’s the implication.” The hell does implication have to do with anything right now? “You’re saying it like it isn’t important for our relationship.”

“You couldn’t have waited until you got back from New York to pop the question?”

“I’ve waited and I’m impatient.”

“Carmen.” The nickname is no longer effective. It’s clear to him now that you’re genuinely pissed with him and have had it. “You’re not listening to me; I’m not ready. Please drop it.”

“Last time we talked about this, you were excited,” he says. “What changed?”

“Well, for one, age,” you retort. “We were, what, seventeen? It’s just teenage talk, and we were too young to be thinking about marriage already.”

You tiredly sigh, looking down at your hands again. “There’s more, isn’t there?” He doesn’t ask it like a question, but instead he says it like a statement for you to confirm.

Hesitantly, you nod. “Just— I’m not ready now, but that doesn’t really mean that I don’t want to get married ever,” you try to grasp at any rational explanation you can, struggling to try to explain why. “If you loved me, then you’d wait, y’know.”

Your eyes shoot wide at the realization of what just slipped out of your lips; did you really just say that? It sounds as if Carmy is thinking that exact same question. “I didn’t mean—”

“You think I don’t love you?” His voice carries a sliver of anger and insecurity as he asks that.

“No, Carm—”

Your words force him to look away from you, his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched. He breathes once through his nose deeply before abruptly getting up from the couch and making a beeline towards the bedroom. Worried, you follow his path and find him harshly opening the closet door and pulling out an old suitcase.

You stand there, a few feet away from him, realizing what he’s doing. “Carmy—”

“You want me to drop it, I’m dropping it.” He doesn’t even so much as glance at you as he tosses the suitcase on the bed and starts to grabs his clothes. “You want me to go to New York, I’m taking the fucking offer. I know you don’t want me here anymore; that’s fine.”

“That’s not true.”

The way he packs is haphazard, rushed and angry; much like how he tends to cook when he gets too emotional. He doesn’t even take the time to fold some of the clothes, opting to instead stuff them in and hope they fit well enough to get the zipper closed. “You have all these excuses and you keep delaying it. It’s clear — you’re fine with marriage, but not with marrying me. You keep saying that you’re not ready, but you’re just too scared to say no. And now I have to do it for you.”

He does manage to close the suitcase and he’s fast to collect it and move past you. “Carm, please,” you turn to follow him, the initial annoyance from earlier flowing out of your body and being replaced with some sort of anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. “Let’s talk about this.”

“We did.” He’s white-knuckling the handle of the bag and he looks at you for only a second. You see a flash of anger, disappointment, and something else you can’t quite put your finger on in his eyes. He unlocks the front door.

“Carmen—”

And you’re interrupted by the abrupt slam of the door closing and the absence of him. Just like that, he’s gone; not even giving you a chance to change his mind or even explain what he means to you — what he meant to you.

You’re supposed to cry, but you can’t even try to force any tears out. You’re just numb and bewildered at how fast the situation unfolded.

You consider for a moment about chasing him like the end of an early 2000’s romcom, but you know that this isn’t like a movie. This isn’t fiction, it’s reality; he wouldn’t just accept you back into his arms like nothing happened, he’d be bitter and loathsome, even more so than he usually is.

You’re not sad. You can’t bring yourself to be sad over him, especially when he couldn’t try to understand how you felt. No, you’re…angry? Would that even be the right word for how you feel now that he’s gone?

You don’t need to think about that; you don’t want to right now. Instead, you drag yourself back to the couch where this all started and you fall onto its cushions, tired of him and tired of this.

The next step to take isn’t clear to you at the moment. You could call Carmy, you could wait, or you could not speak to him ever again. The choice is yours to make, but you don’t want to choose right now. Your eyelids grow heavy, and so you let yourself fall into a cold sleep.

would y’all want a part 2 or not? i’d only write it if y’all wanted it.

[helle-bored]

A non-exhaustive list of weilan fics I’ve loved, for a truly diverse variety of reasons, in no particular order!

State of Matter by naye (~13k, T)

I am a simple soul who loves a) Shen Wei whump and b) hurt/comfort and c) hypothermia/huddling for warmth tropes and d) survival stories where characters get out of pants-shittingly bad situations via putting one foot in front of the other for way longer than they want to be doing that. This is a great fic for all of those things.

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All-Consuming by ratbones (~119k, E)

Zombie AU! Everything about this fic is exquisite – the pacing, dialogue, descriptions, characterization – everything. Having already loved both the novel and drama versions of Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei before reading this, I think this fic is my favorite version of them. Also, I know a bunch of us like to good-naturedly poke fun at how baby!Shen Wei’s crush plays out in the drama, but this is a fic that absolutely sells the idea that Shen Wei would fall in love with Zhao Yunlan in basically one night. Fuck, I’d love him too! I kind of do! Feels like watching a very good zombie movie. Has A+ humor, interesting science, a wrenching penultimate chapter. Please read this and come yell at me about it! You can read it fandom-blind. 

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The Unexpected Legacy by FayJay (~84k, E)

Regency AU! Gorgeously written. One of the most scorching, horniest weilan fics I’ve read in terms of pent-up yearning, and that is a full compliment. I’m also a big fan of the climactic confrontation, which shows how much Zhao Yunlan cares about Shen Wei in a pretty visceral and unpleasant, typical fairytale way, something I enjoy because I am a sadist for that kind of horrifying devotion. One of my favorite Ye Zuns – he’s such a fantastic, complex, loveable brat. No twincest in the main fic, but if that’s your flavor you can also check out the sequels.

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Not All Those Who Wander by Xparrot (~23k, T) 

This one is a bit hard to describe. It’s like a… post-apocalyptic fairytale AU fix-it?, and the writing is beautiful. I love how it plays with the novel versions of Kunlun and a young Shen Wei. Kind of desolate and bittersweet, but hopeful too. 

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Day After Day | 日复一日 by hideyseek (~24k, T)

What do you say about a fic where the middle-aged original characters are still in your mind months later? Great timeloop casefic with a slowly unwinding mystery.

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Ghost Story by clevermanka (~90k, E)

Haunted house AU! I’m kind of a baby about haunted house stuff, and some parts of it toe the line of being too creepy for me – the slowly building malevolence has great atmosphere and is genuinely unpleasant in parts. Also really enjoyed the bizarre, earnest, kinky ghost sex, which by all accounts really shouldn’t work as well as it does. (Enthusiasm goes a long way when one of you is a ghost.) Has a proper gothic story arc that’s fitting for the fic as a whole. Also features a fantastic Zhu Hong who is saddled with way more bullshit than she deserves. I think about this fic a lot; it has a really strong sense of presence.

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Rapture by ratbones (~104k, M)

Cyberpunk AU! ratbones does it AGAIN with this fic. damn. This one feels a little less serious than All-Consuming and moves along at a faster pace that suits the glittering cyberpunk theme, but it still manages to cram in body horror and existential angst and just a lot of really lovely ways of looking at what it means to be human, without any of it ever dragging down the plot. I read it all on a 6-hour flight and may or may not have teared up over a robot – not that anything’s new about me crying about robots, but all the robots I’ve ever cried over have also been people, and so is Kunlun. Anyway. This is a fun romp that will probably NOT make anyone cry except for me, and it is another fic with an excellent Ye Zun. 

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Better, Safe (~5k, E) and Whipped (~3k, E) by clevermanka

I’m listing these together because they go together in my head – clevermanka has a handful of lovely short fics that are either outright kink or kink-leaning, and these two are my faves. I love reading stuff that digs into the easy give and take between the boys as they’re passing the baton of who’s in control back and forth, and what control looks like for both of them, and what ceding it looks like, and how they enjoy each other’s differences, and how courteous and careful they are with each other without it being awkward, like it’s just a built-in part of sex for them. Joyful and hot.

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Spiders Crawling by tinypinkmouse (~38k, E)

…Spider… AU... Look. Shen Wei is spiders. I have to include this because I have never ever in my life read anything else where the main love interest is spiders, and the mental image of Shen Wei getting so flustered about questions he doesn’t want to answer that he just spontaneously bursts into spiders feels perfectly in-character (and also weirdly adorable). I would not be able to stand this in real life, but Zhao Yunlan has a remarkable ability (canonical) to be cheerfully into some weird shit. Worth clicking on for the what-the-fuck factor, and then reading because you get unironically sucked into the concept of Shen Wei being spiders.

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The Coherence of Light by Xparrot (~3k, E)

Sometimes (all the time) I just want to read porn that's hot and funny and in-character. I could happily read a hundred fics just like this.

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Scorched Earth, Deep Ocean by margrave (~35k, E)

Omegaverse palace drama AU! Emperor Kunlun, secretly an omega, performs a series of political maneuvers to cement his position as an omega Emperor – as well as to recognize his new concubine Shen Wei, former general of the enemy kingdom of Dixing and war prize given away by the Dixing Emperor during peace negotiations, as a consort accepted by the court and father of any future legitimate heirs to the throne. I was pleasantly surprised at how much fun I had reading this one, considering the action primarily focuses around court politics. Bonus: Zhu Hong is GREAT. Absolutely love her. 

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unmoored by nanimono_da (~43k, M)

Post-canon fix-it! If you want something that dives really really deeply into the bodily experience of living through heavy grief, I actually think this does an uncomfortably good job of showing what than can be like. Reading it feels like treading water in the ocean when it’s raining and you can’t see the shore. Cathartic; draining. HURT/comfort. Has a happy ending. The illustrations are so, so pretty.

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Echo by Absolutelytrash (~26k, T)

Post-canon AU! Technically unfinished, but it leaves off at a pretty satisfying spot imo. Zhao Yunlan is taken hostage in exchange for the Hallows. I find the psychology around the perpetrator to be absurdly fascinating and very well done. I also enjoyed(?) watching Zhao Yunlan’s disintegration as he’s tortured under circumstances he does not believe he will survive, and the impact that this experience has on him later on.