#mcu soulmate au

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under the Moon

A Soulmate!AU

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You've waited your whole life to meet your soulmate. You just didn't know your soulmate was so close by, all this time.

But...

How the hell can you handle being thrown into a world full of gods and magic? You're just a shopkeeper! Why is your heart being tugged by three different threads?

Why do they all look alike?

How... how the hell can you handle three soulmates?

TW/CW: Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Drinking problems, Loneliness, Pain, Angst, Torture, Childhood trauma, mentions of child abuse, human trafficking, sex abuse, drug abuse, suicidal thoughts/mentions, fighting, violence, graphic violence, death, major character death, comfort, soulmates, fluff, healing, slow burn, eventual smut, NSFW

MINORS DNI: I AM MOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr @zoleea-exultant @latenightcravingz @daygirl26 @thelastemzy @leahnicole1219 @marsmallow433 @crazyunsexycool @oscarissac2099 @littlenosoul @animechick555 @capsiclesworldsblog @cloudroomblog @lov3vivian @princessakirika @fog-sama @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @badbishsblog @lillycore555 @stardream14 @meowmeowyoongles @kate-ohara @kittenlover614 @patchesofwork @enheduannasposts

Chapter 1: The Scholar Link

Chapter 2: Inside Voices Link

Chapter 3: The Victims Link

Chapter 4: Old, Unhappy, Far-Off Things Link

Chapter 5: Old Friends Link

Chapter 6: Whiskey Rose Link

Chapter 7: Cats And Cradles Link

Chapter 8: Everybody Loves Cats! Link

Chapter 9: A House Divided Link

Chapter 10: On The Wings Of An Icarus Link

Chapter 11: Good Food And Cat Fuzz

Side Characters:

Puck the Cat

#A Rose Under the Moon #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight mcu #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #smut #moon knight smut #soulmate au #soulmates #my writing

[dem-obscure-imagines]

You're So Timeless | Vol. 2

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year. 

Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.

Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. This is PART 2. Part 1 is linked HERE.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.

Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)

Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female 

The Recovery Period

When you woke up, Steve was there sitting in the infirmary, sleeping. His head was leaning back against the wall, snores deep and quiet. It was dark. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You blinked a few times and took a breath, your chest protesting when you did.

The monitor you were hooked to started beeping loudly and Steve awoke, meeting your eyes. He called for Bruce and stood from his chair, approaching the side of your bed. You reached for his hand and he gave it to you immediately, fingers latching onto yours, as though to prove you were awake, that you were alive.

Bruce arrived and gave you the rundown, the grenade, which you remembered, the fact that you had a cracked rib and quite a bit of bruising, but that you had gotten very lucky otherwise. He prescribed you some pain meds and six weeks of rest with a brace before he’d reevaluate.

And at first, it wasn’t bad. Sam played a lot of Fortnite with you. You were pretty good at it, surprisingly. Tony had a pretty extensive collection of movies and you had every snack you could ever dream of. You got some reading done, you picked up crochet, and everyone spent a lot of time entertaining you.

Bucky introduced himself. Steve had talked about him a bit before you met him, but the man standing in front of you was a lot quieter than you’d expected, more timid. You figured he’d open up more once he was convinced none of you were scared of him. And you weren’t. The dangerous part of him was the Winter Soldier, something Wanda had been working with him to unwind from the depths of his mind.

After a few days, when your pain had toned down a bit, Natasha sat you on a stool in the kitchen and gave your hair a trim, getting rid of the singed ends. Wanda got into the undercover stash in one of the bathrooms and found a few bottles of hair bleach and some blue dye. Steve found the three of you in there with hair shears, and a bowl of mixed blue dye that Wanda was painting onto your freshly bleached ends.

He had no complaints. After all, blue was your color. It was quite a bit shorter, too, but he thought it suited you. He thought everything suited you, to be honest.

You did some online shopping in those first few weeks. Your Avengers allowance was no joke and you had barely touched any of it yet, which meant a new reading chair was well within the budget, a cool round one than you could hang from the ceiling. It was Steve that found you pushing the giant box down the hall when it arrived.

“Hey! Woah, are you supposed to be pushing that?”

You froze, turning to face him. “Maaaaybe.”

“Alright, move.” He chuckled, rolling up his sleeves and taking over, pushing it down the hall to your room. “What is this anyway?”

“New reading chair. It’s really cool, it hangs from the ceiling.”

“And you were going to do that part, too?”

“I was gonna figure it out. Maybe use my powers for that part.”

“Ah, right. Forgot about those.”

“Me too, honestly. Haven’t used them much lately.”

“For good reason.” He straightened out, the box now sitting in the middle of your room. “How are you feeling, better?”

“A lot better. Still a little sore, but my bruises are starting to clear up.” You motioned to the brace you had to wear around your middle. “Might be out of this thing before six weeks if I can help it.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see what Bruce says.”

“Of course.” You nodded, using a pair of scissors to slice the tape along the top of the box.

Steve opened it up and started taking parts out. You reached for the instructions and sat down next to him on the floor, familiarizing yourself with the process. It didn’t look too difficult and it was only a few pieces of hardware.

“I’m gonna go grab some of Tony’s tools.” He told you, walking towards Tony’s workroom. He returned a few minutes later with a drill and a screwdriver. “Alright, where are we starting?”

“Okay, so we attach the chair part to the support chains, and then those get screwed into the ceiling. Like this.” You showed him the diagram.

“I’m no handyman, but I think we can figure it out.” He grinned, scooting a little closer to you.

“Oh I’m sure we can.”

It didn’t take long. Less than an hour. The two of you talked, joked, laughed. Eventually, you used your powers to hold the thing in place so Steve could screw it into the ceiling. He got off the stepladder and sat in the chair, testing the strength of the chair himself before deciding it was good enough for you. With a smile, he got up and motioned for you to give it a try.

You put the cushions on the chair and sat down, smiling. “I’ve always wanted a chair like this.”

“Well I’m glad I could help that dream come true.” He chuckled. He handed you the book sitting on your desk. “Here, give it a real test.”

“Oh good idea.” You chuckled, positioning the book in your hands, curling your legs into your desired reading position. Yep, it worked. And it was pretty comfortable. “Now all I need is a little lamp over here.”

“Let me know when that comes in.” Steve chuckled, thumbs tucked into his pockets. “I’ll be here.”

Steve watched you with a soft smile, how happy you were. Maybe someday, he would build other things for you, in a house you shared. A nice little place in the suburbs, or on a farm somewhere, like Clint had made for his wife, Laura. He’d build you a million reading chairs. Hell, he’d build you a whole library if it’d put that smile on your face.

“You ever built Legos before?” you asked.

“I don’t even know what those are.”

“Alright, we’ll fix that. There’s a really easy fix to that, actually.” You pulled out your phone, clicked a few links, and then looked back up at him with a smile. “It’s on its way.”

“What’s that look for?”

“You will find out in two to three business days.”

***

By the time your Millennuim Falcon Lego set came in, Steve had been sent on another mission. And while he was gone, the Compound got an unexpected visitor in the form of Scott Lang, who Sam found on the roof and promptly got his ass kicked by while you were sitting at the monitors, one of the only things that you could do with your current injury.

“Don’t tell Steve.”

“Oh I won’t.” You spun out of your office chair, made a portal to the warehouse, and stepped through it, using your augmented goggles to find the guy, trapping him in a tiny forcefield. Sam came into the warehouse shortly after, looking at the bubble you’d made with interest.

“Got him. Ow!” Something nipped at your ankle and you looked down to find hundreds of ants. “Oh FUCK no.” You dropped him and kicked off the ants, making a platform of energy to stand on so they couldn’t crawl on you.

“Hey man, she’s injured!” Sam called into the room, looking around for wherever he had gone.

“Sorry!” The attacker replied.

And that was the last you saw or heard from him until Sam tracked him down, offering him membership on the team, if he so wanted it. Someone who shrunk could be a great asset on the team. Which is why when he told the rest of you about Hope, someone who did the same but with wings, obviously, she was invited, too.

The team was growing, and as it did, the Compound felt less empty, which was nice, especially when the team was split off doing their own things.

Steve came back shortly after, looking tired. It hadn’t been anything too bad, from what you’d heard, but he, Natasha, Clint, and Tony had been gone for a week. Still, the moment he was back, he popped his head into your room.

“Hey.”

“When did you guys get back?” You asked, looking up from your book, curled up in your reading chair.

“Just now. Um, I’m gonna take a shower, and then…Legos?” He asked, eyes earnest. You could tell he had been thinking about it the whole time he’d been gone.

“Oh absolutely. I’ve got ‘em ready to go.”

“Excellent. See you in twenty.” He saluted, walking down the hall to his room. You got the massive box of Legos out of your closet and brought it out to the table in the lounge, waiting patiently for Steve, who got out of the shower not that long after, dressed in sweats and a tank-top, still a bit damp from the water.

“Tadaaaa~” you said, pushing the box across the table. 

His eyes lit up as soon as he realized what it was. “Where did you get this?”

“Amazon.”

“It comes with Han Solo?” Steve asked, looking at the pictures of the minifigures on the box.

“Yeah, of course it does. Comes with Leia, too.” You grinned, opening the box and dealing out instruction manuals, sorting the bags into neat little piles.

“This is great.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged. “I owe you one for building my reading chair. Now pay attention; This little orange thing is a Lego separator. It’ll help if you get them stuck together and can’t get them apart. Oh, and do not step on them. It will hurt so bad.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for the heads-up. So where do we start?”

Catch Me Now

Finally, after what felt like the longest recovery period ever, you were cleared once more for missions and training. However, you didn’t have any at the moment. Missions, that was. You were back to training with the others three times a week. Steve had you back on a workout regimen, but he was treating you different, like at any moment your rib might randomly re-crack.

Wanda and Vision got sent off on a mission with Clint, a recruitment mission. Apparently, there was another archer on his radar. A good one. It was his hope that with another archer on the team, he could take a bit of a step back, still be involved when he was needed, but hopefully, he’d be able to spend some more time with his family.

This meant, however, that you didn’t have anyone to go to the local theater’s Hunger Games marathon with. You asked Natasha first, but she was busy looking through some files, working out the details of the coming missions.

“I think Steve is here today. You could ask him if he wants to go.”

You could, you supposed. You felt a lot closer to him, lately. You had been spending a lot of time with him, between the extra training and the Legos. He had custody of the Millennium Falcon set, but he’d given you the Leia minifigure. She was sitting on your desk in your room.

So, with a shrug, you agreed, walking down the hall to Steve’s room and knocking on the door. He and Bucky were in there, talking hushedly about something, but they quieted at the sound of your knuckles against the wood.

The door opened and Bucky looked down at you, smiling when he realized who it was. “Oh, hey, (Y/N).” He welcomed you in, shooting Steve a look.

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s going on?”

“If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“Oh, no, we’re just…catching up.” Steve said.

“Gotcha. So um…Wanda was supposed to go to a movie marathon with me at the mall today, but she forgot she had to go on that mission, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I already bought the tickets.”

“Oh, sure. What movies?”

“The Hunger Games.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Steve nodded. “Just let me get changed.”

“You can come too, if you want, Bucky. I’m sure they’re not sold out.”

“Oh, that is alright, (Y/N). Thank you, though. I’ve gotta work myself up to public outings.” He looked between the two of you, a weird sparkle in his eye. “You two have fun.”

“Will do.” Steve replied, chuckling as his friend left.

You left after, getting changed into the outfit you’d picked out. It was pretty simple: a bleach-dyed Hunger Games shirt, some comfy joggers for the long day ahead, and a pair of slip-on shoes. You grabbed your purse and walked back out to the living room, where Steve was waiting, dressed in his civilian disguise, a baseball cap and glasses. No one would ever recognize him in glasses.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” You nodded, plucking your keys off of the hook by the door.

“Oh, I can drive.” Steve offered.

“Okay.” You agreed, putting your keys back.

He picked up his instead, from the hook next to yours. You walked out and got in Steve’s car, hopping in the passenger seat. The mall was about an hour out. Steve took the backroads, the scenic route. But you didn’t have to give him directions. He knew where he was going. After all, it was the same mall where he had met you.

You gazed out the window, watching the trees go by, looking for deer. Steve gazed over at you every so often, thinking about how someday, when you were driving places, he’d be able to reach over and take your hand, bring it to his lips. His heart ached just thinking about it. The next four and a half months couldn’t pass quickly enough.

“So what are these movies about? I keep hearing about them.” He asked, desperate to hear your voice.

“Are you familiar with the dystopian genre?”

“Yeah, kinda. Like weird, bad future kinda stuff.”

“Exactly. So this one is in a world called Panem, which is supposed to be North America hundreds of years from now. There’s twelve districts and a Capitol that rules over them all. Because of a rebellion about seventy-four years earlier, every year, two kids are chosen from each district to battle to the death in an arena.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah it’s kind of a lot. It’s really good, though. Lots of commentary on the United States government. No offense.”

He chuckled. “None taken. The America I stood for back then…I’m learning it was a different America from the one we live in now. But it’s hard to shake a name that’s been stuck with you for the better part of a century.”

“What would you choose?”

“What name?”

“Yeah, if you got to choose again, now, what codename would you choose?”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Something cool. I’d need help workshopping. And you? If you got to choose again?”

“I’m good with Waypoint. For a while, at least.” You shrugged. “It’s kinda fitting, all things considered.”

“It is. Suits you.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “So how is everything? How is Bucky doing?”

“Good. They’re um, scheduling a day to test out his…what’re they called, his trigger words? To see if Wanda’s tinkering in his head has been working.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like a lot.”

“It is. He’s nervous, but he knows it has to be done.” Steve sighed and gave a shrug. “And whatever happens, he’s got us to catch him, figure out what comes next.”

“Absolutely.” You nodded.

Steve pulled into the mall parking lot, following the signs to find the doors closest to the theater. You handed him his ticket, which was printed on shimmery, gold paper, the Mockingjay symbol stamped on in black ink. You reached into your pocket and handed him a length of string with beads on it.

“I made it for Wanda, so it might not fit.” You warned.

He read the words, spaced between orange and black and gold beads. “District 12?”

“It’ll make more sense in a bit.” You chuckled and held out your wrist, where the matching one was. “Gotta represent.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He slipped the bracelet on, the beads spaced out and stretched around his wide wrist. “See, fits fine.”

“Uh-huh, sure does.” You laughed. “Look, it fits perfectly. You can almost read it.”

“Just about.” He grinned, reaching for the door handle.

“So, what’s our cover?”

“What?”

“Our cover. We can’t be Avengers here.”

“Right, um…” Steve thought for a moment. “You work at the library. I’m your boyfriend and you dragged me here, but I’m very supportive.”

“The most supportive.” You agreed. “Alright, I’ll play. Let’s go.”

Steve locked up the car, the horn honking as the two of you walked towards the entrance of the mall. You led him upstairs to the movie theater entrance. You checked in with your tickets and the girls at the table gave you your commemorative popcorn tins and cups. Steve went to get the popcorn filled. You stood over by the soda fountains. He returned with a huge grin and a bucket of popcorn.

“Look at this! They’re so big now.”

You laughed. “How big were they before?”

“Little paper bag.” He chuckled and turned towards the Cocacola Freestyle machine, looking at the buttons with wonder. “Alright what is this?”

“The future of beverage technology.” You told him, putting ice in your cup and tapping one of the beverage options, opening up all the extra flavors before choosing yours.

Steve poked the Coke button and read over all the options before settling on Cherry Vanilla Coke. He snapped the lid on and put a straw in it, taking a cursory sip. He smiled. “Takes me back.”

“Got that vintage taste?” You asked.

He nodded. “At the risk of sounding like a commercial, yeah, it does.”

You led Steve to the theater where you’d be spending the entire rest of the day. You walked him through the schedule. First was Hunger Games from noon until 2:22. There’d be a ten minute break, then Catching Fire from 2:32 to 4:58. There was a forty-five minute break for dinner. Then Mockingjay Parts 1 and 2 until just after ten. Every movie, they punched a hole in your ticket, and if you got all four, they were handing out little prizes, supposedly. You weren’t sure what yet, but you were excited to find out.

“Got a long day ahead of us.”

“I better not catch you nodding off.” You teased, kicking back the recliner.

“I don’t snore that loud.” He said, following your lead and pressing the same button to lift his. God, theaters had changed. He set the popcorn tin between the two of you. He couldn’t count on two hands how many pointless dates he’d gone on with Bucky before he met you for the first time, how many pretty dames he’d offered popcorn, only for them to completely blow him off. But when he’d taken you to the movies back then, you’d shared gladly. And today was no different. You scooted closer, your hand brushing his every so often.

The movie started and Steve watched, enamored. It was different than the movies he was used to, sure. Maybe Star Wars had warmed him up, or maybe it was the fact that you were sitting there beside him, but he loved every second.

Between movies, the two of you went back out to the lobby to get your tickets punched for Catching Fire, stretch your legs and get refills. Steve noticed a handout for the flashback movies that were coming up. His eyes landed on the Wizard of Oz and his gaze softened.

“They still show this?” Steve asked, pointing to the poster.

“Yeah, every handful of years. It’s a classic.” You smiled. “I think I was Dorothy for Halloween one year.”

“Would you go see it with me?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

Sure, things were different between you and Steve than he thought it would be. He knew it would be a while before you’d know. You’d told him you’d been friends for about a year before visiting him, but it felt so much longer, living through every day, scared to even take your hand without sending the wrong message.

You saved him the trouble, though, reaching out for his free hand. He took it without hesitation, giving it a squeeze. God, he’d do anything to kiss you, but he knew that would be stepping clear over that line. Holding hands was friendly enough. Hell, you held Wanda’s hand all the time and that didn’t mean anything. He was pretty sure, anyway.

“Where’d you go just now?” You asked, your hand his anchor in the moment, keeping him from drifting back off into the past again.

“Nowhere, I just…this is nice. Thanks for taking me out.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”

You went back into the theater, hand in hand, carrying your refills. This time, you’d gotten a slushee, and he had decided to do the same. You settled back into your seats, assuming your spots with the people you had been sitting near before. If anything, there were even more people in the theater for Catching Fire.

Steve took a sip of the slushee, looking over at you. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, it’s ice.” You laughed. “Do you like it?”

He scrunched his face. “Ooh, brainfreeze.”

“You’ve gotta go slow.”

“Lesson learned.”

The lights dimmed and you grinned, looking back at the screen, missing the longing look in Steve’s eyes, admiring the way your face was lit by the glow. And in those seats, once again, he was that little guy from Brooklyn, watching a movie with his soulmate.

***

Two and a half hours later, the theater lights went up and you had forty-five minutes to kill until the next one started. You wandered down to the food court to get something to eat. 

“So what did he mean there’s no District 12?” Steve asked when you settled down at one of the tables. Shoppers walked all around, laden with paper bags full of goods. It was a kind of busy day, actually, but it was fine. You liked to peoplewatch.

“When the books came out, I had to wait a whole year to get the answer. I think you can handle the next forty minutes.”

“There are books?”

“I have them. You can borrow them. And they are even better than the movies, if you can believe that.”

“They must be pretty damn good, then.” He chuckled. “You want to shop around a bit? We’ve still got some time.”

“Oh absolutely. There’s a Lego store here.”

Steve grinned. “They have a whole store for those?”

The two of you finished eating, threw out your trash, and then walked down the hallway to the Lego Store. Steve browsed some of the boxes. There were a lot of cool things. Buildings he recognized, landmarks, things from movies he hadn’t gotten to watch yet. There were also flowers. Lots of flowers, and Van Gogh’s Starry Night. He could see himself building any number of them with you.

You were over by the minifigure bags, squishing them to feel which character was inside. Steve chuckled, but didn’t question your process. Instead, he wandered over to a rotating display of minifigure keychains. A few caught his eye, but more than anything, you did. That was, a keychain of you, in your suit, that eight-pointed star on your chest. Right next to it was him, shield and all. He chuckled and then grabbed one of each, heading towards the checkout.

By the time you caught up with him, he had already paid.

“What did you get?” you asked through your giggles.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled, voice soft, eyes softer.

“Alright. Keep your secrets.” You chuckled.

Steve took your hand, walking back towards the theater. You got one last refill for the last two movies, got your cards punched, and headed back inside to finish off the saga.

***

At the end of the night, all the people who had been there for all four movies got a t-shirt, a Mockingjay pin, and a mini poster. Along with the tin and cups they’d given you, you’d say it was definitely worth the ticket price. You and Steve walked out to the car together and sat in the seats for a while before either of you spoke.

“Thanks for coming today, Steve.”

“Oh, any time, (Y/N). We should do it again sometime.”

“I’ll let you know if I catch wind of a Star Wars marathon.”

He grinned. “Oh please do. I’d love to see those on the big screen.”

He pulled out of the parking spot and drove off the lot. By the time you got back, almost everyone was asleep. Almost. Bucky was on the couch, watching something, volume on low. He looked up when the two of you came in the door.

“Fun time?” He asked.

“Oh, very.” You laughed kicking off your boots and setting them in your slot on the shoe shelf.

Steve plucked your keys off of your hook and, very efficiently, added his top secret Lego purchase to yours, the keychain of himself. 

“Oh my God.” You giggled, looking at it. “This is great.”

“We match.” He said, holding up his own keys, which already had the keychain of you on them.

Your heart just about melted. “We sure do. God, you’re giving my soulmate some awfully big shoes to fill, Steve.”

“Well,” he smiled, and suddenly, he was that little guy from Brooklyn again, at your height, in awe of the woman the universe had plopped directly onto his front porch. “I’m sure he’ll grow into them.”

Mr. Perfectly Fine

You had training early, almost all hands on deck. Tony was on a business trip, Thor was on Asgard. But otherwise, everyone was accounted for. Clint’s new recruit, Kate, seemed nice. She was twenty-three, fresh out of college, and really did have quite a shot. She might shape up to be a pretty good Hawkeye after all.

Scott and Hope were there as well. Hope was extremely skilled. You could tell she’d practiced for a while, knew her suit and the Pym Particles inside and out. And Scott was also there. He was nice, there was no question about that, but you could tell he still had a lot to learn about the crazy world he’d stepped into. Still, it was nice to have them around regardless.

Tony hadn’t officially inducted them to the team, and there had been no party announcing such a thing. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was waiting for someone. One more member, perhaps, before making it official.

You had been in…something of a mood since your little outing with Steve. It had been a blast, sure, but it had also been a reminder: Steve had a soulmate, in the past tense. There was a name on his wrist. And your bare wrist meant that it wasn’t you. You had a soulmate out there somewhere, human or super, whether you wanted them or not.

Steve was perfect for you. But you couldn’t have him.

And god, did it hurt.

You trained hard, hitting the punching bag that occupied what was usually Steve’s corner. He was there a lot, blowing off steam. Now you got it; it felt good to hit something. You spun, kicking the bag.

“You’re unbalanced.” Bucky piped up, walking over.

You looked up at him, watching his movements, but he didn’t mean any harm. Obviously he didn’t. He’d passed his mind-control test with flying colors. He was a free man now, and he was a lot lighter because of it.

“Am I?”

“You’ve gotta shift your weight a little, really plant that other leg.” He instructed, adjusting your body, hands gentle but firm. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you from across the room, but he didn’t come over. “Otherwise they’re gonna push you right over.”

“Well thanks. I appreciate it.” You said, giving the tip a try. “I haven’t done enough hand-to-hand.”

“We’ll get ya there. I’m surprised Steve hasn’t been working on it with you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Things have been weird since the Hunger Games.”

“I noticed.” Bucky chuckled. “I’ll talk to him. See what’s going on in that head of his.”

“It’s not his fault. I’ve been the weird one.”

“Oh. Need to talk about it?”

“No, I just…I need to work through some stuff.”

Working through stuff meant that after training, you went straight to your room, closed the door, and started listening to your angst playlist, spread like a starfish across your king-sized mattress. And that was how Nat found you almost an hour later.

“Knock-knock, I’m coming in.” She said, opening the door. “Hey. Why are you listening to Songs for Sad Bitches in here?”

“What? How’d you—?”

“Your playlist name is on the screen out here when you play stuff on the built-in speakers.”

“Embarrassing.”

“Happens to the best of us.” She shrugged, closing the door behind her and sitting on the bed. “So, why are we sad bitches today?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You can’t talk about it, or you can’t talk about it here?”

“The second of those options, yeah.”

She dangled your keys from her hand, the little tiny Captain America taunting you. “Thought so. Let’s get out of here. Kate hasn’t been to the mall yet and she needs to buy some more clothes.”

“Alright. I could go for some mall pretzels.”

So, for the second time in a week, you piled into a car and headed off towards the mall. This time, however, you were with your friends, Wanda, Nat, and Kate, not your unattainable work crush.

Wanda loved the mall. Seeing her that happy almost made your heartache go away. The four of you shopped around. You picked out a few new tops, some accessories, a cute bag, and it was a nice distraction until you passed the Lego Store. You got some pretzel bites and hunkered down in the food court with the others.

“Alright. Spill.” Nat urged.

Wanda offered a sad little smile and Kate looked up, waiting to see where this was heading. She was new to the team, which meant she was new to the drama, too.

“I don’t know, just…going out with Steve…”

“What, you don’t like him?” Nat asked, prodding.

“The opposite.”

“Then why are you all torn up about it?”

“Because I can’t have him.” You said, pushing a pretzel bite around in the cup of cheese. “He has a soulmate.”

“Had. In the forties.”

“Right, but…I turn twenty-five in what, like four months now? And then I get whoever and…I need to let him go before I get hurt, but I can’t.” You sighed. “Or before I hurt him, leading him on just to run off into the sunset with someone else…I just feel like shit about the whole situation.”

Natasha sat there with the perfect poker face, giving a sly little smile. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise. And if not, you’ve got us here to catch you.”

“What she said.” Kate agreed.

“It will be fine, (Y/N).” Wanda promised, patting your hand. “My birthday is first. Let me be the stressed one.” She let out an incredulous laugh. “I have a crush on an android.”

“Hey, if any robot has a soul, it’s gotta be Vision.” You said, eyes soft. “Obviously, he doesn’t have a mark, but, if your wrist has his name…”

“That would be enough for both of us.” Wanda agreed, nodding. “It’s weird. I know…I know he’s the one but I still have to wait. I wish if you figured it out early, the universe would just let you have it.”

Natasha looked to the rest of you, soaking in silence for a moment before taking off the cuff she wore around her wrist. “Alright, it’s been a secret long enough.”

“Woah, Nat…” You gave her a moment to back out, but she held up her wrist, letting the rest of you read the name on her wrist. Bucky. Her soulmate was Bucky. It…made a lot of sense, actually. The way he looked at her during training, the way she kept herself so guarded around him. “Does he know?”

“Unclear.” Natasha shrugged. “I, uh…Steve said he wasn’t sure. And Bucky’s memories are a little fuzzy. The Red Room tried to get rid of our marks. Said they made us liabilities. When I got out, they hadn’t found a way to do it yet. It showed up a few years after that.”

“Is that like…still around?” Kate asked. “The Red Room?”

“Unfortunately.”

The word sat on the table for a few long moments before you said, “What if we took it down?”

Something sparked in Natasha’s eyes and she met your gaze. “Elaborate.”

“I’m serious. The four of us,” you thought for a moment and then it clicked, “Hope.”

“Maria.” Natasha said, putting the pieces together herself. “I mean, that’s really all we’d need. Plus a location and a plan.”

“Oh my god, are we going on a mission?” Kate asked, lighting up at the prospect of her very first real mission.

Nat grinned. “Yeah, I think we are.”

I Can See You

Steve caught wind of Operation: Red Room before you’d so much as suited up. Of course he didn’t think it was a good idea. After your accident, he still saw you as fragile. You were fine. Your ribs were fine. They’d healed better than even Bruce had expected them to. Still, that look in his eyes said otherwise.

“I’m just not sure this is something you should be doing on your own.”

“We can’t bring you. We can’t bring Bucky. It’d be handing them two supersoldiers on a silver platter.”

“So you’re just gonna waltz in there instead?”

“Yep.” You replied, lighting a little forcefield around your fist and holding it up as evidence. “I can handle myself, remember?”

His eyes softened. “I know that.”

“Then why are you still fighting me on this? Do you seriously think Natasha would let anything happen to me? Do you think Wanda would?”

“What if they have something that disables your powers? Both of your powers.”

“If they did, they’d have used it already.”

He sighed, muscled arms crossed, pink lips pressed into a pout. “(Y/N)...”

“You’re not talking me out of this.” Not even with those pretty blues, you sneaky bastard. “Besides, it was my idea. I’m not leaving the girls hanging.”

His eyes widened. “It was your idea?”

“Well, it was a group effort, but I’m the one that put it into words, yeah.” You shrugged. “If you didn’t think I could handle being an Avenger, why did you recruit me?”

“I never said that.” His jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I just…I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then trust me to do this.” You told him, resting a hand on his chest. “And trust me to come back to you.”

He met your eyes, melting at your touch before relenting, “Okay. But be careful, alright? Promise me.”

“I promise. I always am. You guys should be here to hold down the fort anyway, in case they retaliate.”

He nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be here.”

You walked down to the locker rooms and suited up, making sure everything was tugged tight, belt equipped with both real guns and stun guns. Natasha had told the rest of you there was brainwashing afoot with the Widows that were still in the Red Room. If you could help it, the goal was to get them out without hurting them. That was where Wanda came in. Her specialty.

You all loaded up into the jet, Maria Hill joining you as your getaway pilot. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work with her yet, so you were excited to. You rehashed the plan on the way. The Red Room was housed in a floating base, which was why it was so untraceable; it was always moving. 

You, Kate, and Wanda were on Widow duty. Wanda would dispel their brainwashing, and you and Kate would deal with the physical cells and deal with any guards standing in your way. Once the brainwashing was handled, Wanda would go with Nat to kill Dreykov himself, the man in charge who had escaped countless assassination attempts. This time, she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Hope was going to shrink down and destroy the place from the inside, and once everyone was out and safe, Maria would fly you all to safety.

Ideally, anyway.

Steve saw you off, standing in the driveway as you flew off.

“Natasha wasn’t kidding. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” Maria chuckled.

“You could say that.”

At the moment, the Red Room was hovering over a suburb in Maine, nearing the Canadian border. Any closer and it would become an international incident. It had to be now. Maria cloaked the jet as it approached, hiding it from onlookers, obviously, but also, hopefully, from the Red Room itself. Though, their sensors were very advanced so there was no way of knowing until you got closer. That put you on edge.

So, instead, you turned to Kate. “First mission today. You ready?”

“Oh hell yeah. I’ve been waiting for this.” Kate nodded. She slung her quiver over her shoulder. “What was yours?”

“The local county fair.” You chuckled. “Though, I guess if you count my first encounter with a bad guy, it was at the mall, guy with a flamethrower and a dream. He is in jail now.”

“That is typically what happens when you dream of arson.” Natasha said, grinning. “Thank you all. For this. For coming.”

“We’ve got you, Nat. They did some pretty awful shit to you. Time to make them pay for it.”

“Speaking of, ready up, ladies. We are two minutes out.”

Power crackled in your fingertips. You were ready to go. Well, as ready as you could be.

Maria pulled up to the docking bay and the five of you got out. Hope lowered her helmet visor, saluted, and then shrunk, flying off into the vents. The other four set off in a linear path, up the winding hallways towards where they kept the Widows.

The hall was bathed in red light, dim. It set you on edge. Natasha led the way, motioning the rest of you on. You noticed as you approached each camera, it flicked off, the heads of them tilting down.

Oh right, Hope. Awesome.

You approached a series of rooms, doors all identical. They slid open when you approached, and sure enough, two dozen women came charging at you all at once, dressed in identical athleisure. Wanda waved her hands, red mist cascading down the hall, their eyes filling. It took a moment, but they all stopped, looking around at each other for some idea of what was going on.

“Natasha?” One of the voices in the crowd said, a blonde girl with wide eyes. “You came?”

Natasha nodded, smiling. “Of course I did.”

“You’re the Avengers.” The girl said, looking at the rest of you. “You’re really here.”

“Some of us. Come on, we’ve got a ship waiting.” You told her.

The girl looked at you and then back at Natasha.

“Go with her.” Natasha instructed. “I’ll be back in like five minutes. Tops.”

“What’s your name?” Kate asked, starting to lead the others back to the ship.

“I’m Yelena. Natasha’s sister.”

As you led them back down the hall, armored guards rounded the corner. You made forcefields at their feet, tripping them up. Kate shot arrows down the barrels of their weapons, causing a few small explosions. The Widows fought with you, taking out anyone that approached. Soon enough, you got to the docking bay, which exploded as soon as you approached.

You put up a shield between the rest of you and the explosion, blocking the girls from the flying debris. Okay, that put a wrench in things a little bit.

“What are we gonna do?” Kate asked, looking to you, the reflection of the flames shimmering against her skin.

“I’ve got an idea.” You said, approaching the opening carefully, wind whipping all around. Maria was still piloting the jet, doing her best to get close to the massive hole.

You made a platform with your power, curving it up at the edges, like a giant spoon. Slowly, you slid it across the gap to the jet. Maria got the hint, turning it around and opening the ramp. You made another platform and two of the Widows hopped in without hesitation. Slowly, you started the process of feeding them all across, two by two until everyone was in the jet. Everyone except you.

“Hey.” Hope said, landing and returning to full size, out of breath. “What did I miss?”

“Not too much.”

“Want a lift?”

“Why not?” You shrugged. Hope took your hand, flying you across the gap and into the ship. That just left Wanda and Nat unaccounted for.

You watched anxiously, waiting, waiting, waiting. Nothing.

“Hope, how long before this thing blows?”

“A few minutes.”

“Fuck.” You shook your head. You pressed a finger to your earpiece. “Nat, Wanda, do you copy?”

Radio silence.

“(Y/N), there they are.” Kate pointed. She really did have eagle eyes.

“I’ll get them.” Hope offered until an enemy ship opened fire.

“I’ve got it.” You said, channeling something deeper. Instead of making a bubble, you formed a tunnel of shimmering blue energy from the platform they were standing on to the back of the jet. “Hold her steady, Maria!”

“As steady as I can.”

A few explosions started at the back of the base, setting off a chain reaction. The two of them ran through the tunnel, its energy shielding them from the fire, the debris, and the rain of bullets. Wanda sped them along, until they were safe and sound, in the jet again.

Maria closed up the door as more explosions went off. You lowered your hands, letting the energy dispel. She flew off to a safe distance. The rest of you watched in awe as the Red Room fell, crumbling to bits, to ashes and ruin.

Yelena hugged Natasha, thanking her. Natasha apologized for not coming sooner. And the rest of the Widows were able to rest, breathing free for the first time in years.

***

The first stop on the docket was a SHIELD base in New York to drop off the majority of the Widows. SHIELD had a plan in place to get them back into society, integrated, rehabilitated, whatever they needed.

The second stop, of course, was Taco Bell, for refreshments.

The third stop was home, where Steve was waiting at the dinner table, chin resting against his folded hands, Bucky sitting across from him. He whipped around at the sound of the door opening. You, Kate, Wanda, Natasha, Hope, and Yelena were talking and laughing, laden with bags of fast food.

His eyes fell on yours first and it was like time stopped.

“How did it go?”

“Good. I got you a Baja Blast.” You said, setting the large cup of the teal drink in front of him.

He stared at it for a long moment before looking back up at you. “You…”

“I’m alright, Steve. We all are. And, uh, we have a new teammate.”

He finally spotted Yelena in the mix. “Oh?”

“Natasha has a sister.” You shrugged, sitting down and unpacking your order. “Apparently.”

Speaking of whom, Natasha walked up to Bucky, looked him in the eye, and said, “Barnes. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, following her into another room.

“Wonder what that’s about.” Steve murmured, sticking a straw into the drink he kept staring at like it was a potion you’d plucked from a fantasy realm. You supposed teal was kind of an odd color for a drink…

You smirked. “I have some idea.”

“She told you?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It makes a lot of sense. The way he looks at her…”

He nodded. “Like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You sighed and then shook out of it, motioning to the drink. “Alright, let me know what you think.”

He took a first sip, holding it in his mouth for a second before swallowing. The smile on his face grew. “It’s sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

“A little.” He chuckled, going in for another sip. “No, maybe…maybe I do like it.”

“Uh-huh. Think about it.” You laughed.

Yelena sat down next to you. “Is this seat taken? I’m starving.”

“Have at it.”

“Alright, well, you girls have fun. I’m headed to bed.” He held up his cup. “Thanks for the drink. Glad you’re home safe.”

“Night, Steve.”

Yelena looked at you, wonder in her eyes. As soon as he was out of earshot, she said, “Oooh, tell me everything.”

You chuckled. “Where do I even start?”

Champagne Problems

Two weeks later, you got dressed for Wanda’s twenty-fifth birthday outing. It would be just the girls, headed to a club nearby. Wanda would turn twenty-five just after midnight and she didn’t want to be in the same building with Vision if she was going to get her heart broken. It wasn’t a bad plan, all things considered.

You were wearing a black dress, knee-length, form-fitting, paired with a dark red lip, and of course, the star necklace Steve had gotten for you all those months ago. You let your fingers linger on it in your reflection before throwing on your heels and walking out to the living room to wait for the others.

Steve was on the couch, watching the Muppets Movie.

“See? I wasn’t lying about Gonzo.”

“You weren’t.” He laughed.  He opened his mouth to make a quip, but it died on his tongue when he got a good look at you, eyes softening. “You got a date tonight? You’re all dolled up.”

“Huh? No.” You laughed. “It’s girls’ night.”

“Didn’t you just have girls’ night? I believe it involved several explosives.”

“Right, well, Wanda turns twenty-five just after midnight, so we’re going out again. This time hopefully with less explosions.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, ya look great.”

You blushed. “Thanks.”

“You hear about Nat and Buck?”

“It’s official.” You grinned. “I’m happy for them.”

“Me too. They’ve both been through so much. They deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Steve.”

He tilted his head, giving you that sad smile. “I am. Promise.”

The other girls came into the living room before you had the chance to respond. Nat was hand-in-hand with Bucky, who kissed her on the cheek before releasing her and joining Steve on the couch, grinning like he’d won the lottery. In a way, he had.

“Let’s get a move on, birthday girl.” Natasha said, slinging an arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “The night is young.”

She looked back longingly where Vision was hovering in the corner of the room. “Be back soon.”

“Text me when you find out.” He said.

“I will.” She promised, eyes brimming with tears.

You took her hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. She squeezed it back, meeting your eyes and offering a smile.

The five of you piled into the car. Hope wasn’t coming because she was in San Francisco for the weekend, but Yelena was. She seemed determined to experience all the life she’d missed out on thus far. You couldn’t blame her in the slightest.

The club was lively, music pulsing loudly. There were lots of birthdays being celebrated, it turned out, announced by party hats, birthday crowns and sashes, and the periodic cheers of groups of people, yelling out in excitement when their friends learned who their lives were promised to. It was kind of magical.

You ordered a drink, downing it quickly and surrendering to the fuzzy feeling at the edges of your mind. You were pretty sure the last time you’d been drunk was your induction to the team. You remembered that night with Steve, how he looked at you, how it felt. And then you ordered a second drink, dancing to the music with the girls, trying to forget your worries, even if only for the night.

A guy approached you, a look in his eye. He eyed up your bare wrist. “No soulmate?”

“Not yet. A few months too early for that.”

“Then would you mind if I swept you off your feet for the night?”

“Sorry, I…I’m here for my friend. It’s her twenty-fifth.”

He scoffed, looking you up and down before stalking off towards his next victim. “Alright. Your loss.”

“Asshole.” Yelena rolled her eyes, taking your hands and spinning you around on the dance floor. You let her, dancing along. “I do not blame you, (Y/N). If I were you, I wouldn’t settle either. Not for that.”

You laughed. “Yeah, not my thing.”

“You’ve never…?”

“Well, a little. In high school, we used to have parties where we ‘practiced’ for our soulmates. It never got any further than a little spin the bottle, though.” You confessed.

“Ah, see, I’ve had practice. But it never meant anything. Red Room, bleh.” Yelena shrugged. “I am ready for something real.”

“How long you got left?”

“Another year.”

“I’ve got three and a half months.”

“So I’ve heard. I bet you are excited, being so close to it.”

“Excited, nervous.” You laughed, shrugging. “I kinda just want to rip the Band-Aid off, get it over with.”

“I’m sure.” She motioned Kate over and she joined the two of you, dancing to the beat. “Kate Bishop, how long do you have left?”

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Ah, well, then you have lots of time to party.” Yelena grinned, spinning her around. “We should really do this more often.”

You chuckled. Yelena had only been part of your little family for a few weeks, but already you could tell she was going to be a handful in the best way.

Eventually, you wandered back over to Wanda, who was standing in the corner of the room, nursing a single glass of Vodka Cran.

“Hey, birthday girl. You doing okay?” You asked.

She nodded, irises ringed with red, as they often were when she was stressed. She blinked a few times, forcing them back to hazel. “Doing great.”

“Wanda, whoever they are, they’re so lucky to have someone like you.” You took her hand. “Now let’s go dance and forget about it for the next hour.”

She smiled. “Lead the way.”

***

In what seemed like no time at all, midnight came. Natasha ordered a bottle of champagne and each of you got a glass. Wanda sat on a barstool, staring at her wrist. From right next to her, you had a pretty good view, watching with a racing heart as a string of letters appeared, darkening into existence.

The Vision.

She burst into tears, hitting the call button on her phone. He picked up on the first ring.

“It’s you, Vis! I knew it was you!”

The rest of you gathered your things, eager to reunite them as soon as you could. Your thoughts were racing, though. You’d never really thought of it before, but…your soulmate could be someone you already knew. Someone you were already in love with.

Someone who was already in love with you.

Maybe there was some hope after all…

The Origin

Only weeks after your night in the club, you found yourself in yet another bar. This time, it wasn’t for fun, though. You, Sam, Nat, Bucky, and Steve were undercover in a quaint little tavern in Alaska. A quaint little tavern that happened to be a front for Hydra, as it were. But that didn’t mean that everyone there was Hydra, just definitely the bar tender and the security guards that kept eyeing you up. Probably a handful of the patrons, too.

In addition to that, so were the flannel-clad guys at the bar.

“Hey, little lady.” One wandered up to you, bumping your elbows. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m all set with this one, thanks.” You said, taking a long sip from your drink.

“Aww, come on, just one more?” The guy on your other side egged on. “Pretty girl like you deserves to have a little fun.”

The guys around them started getting riled up, trying to convince you to have another drink. Never had you been so glad to hear Steve’s voice.

“Sorry fellas, she’s taken. Come on, sweetheart.” You felt his hand on your shoulder and let him pull you away from the fray, back to his little corner. He had been growing out a bit of a beard for this. God, did it suit him. He rested his hands on your waist, face approaching your own, nose nestled beside your cheek. “You see anything?”

“Bartender has a gun under the counter. Intense code-protected lock on the door in the backroom.” You told him, masking your words with a smile, nuzzling your nose against his.

“I’ll get to work on the door.” Bucky said over the coms. “Whatever you’re doing is working. Those guys have lost all interest.”

“Perfect.” You chuckled. “Thanks for defending my honor.”

Steve smiled and it was breathtaking, the way his eyes sparkled in the warm light. “Anytime.”

You really couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol; there hadn’t even been any. It was a virgin drink. Your arm wound around his neck, pulling him in so you could kiss his cheek. His arms wrapped tight around you and he buried his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks, laughing.

Once again, that line between your cover and your feelings began to blur.

“Alright, I’m in.” Bucky said. “Feel free to join us whenever.”

“Coming.” Steve murmured, a hand moving the hair out of your eyes. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, sending your heart into a frenzy before taking your hand and leading you to the backroom, where Bucky and the others were waiting.

“You were born for undercover work, (Y/N).” Natasha said, giving you a smirk and a friendly nudge.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” You laughed. “It’s kind of fun, though.”

The five of you walked down the tunnel. When you finally reached the main room, it was kind of dark. You lit your fist with blue energy, using it to find a lightswitch. There were several computers that flashed to life, a wall of weapons, and also, a wall of screens. There was a little electrified cell, but it was empty. No captives, as far as you could see.

You started looking around while Natasha backed up files to a hard drive. Bucky watched the entrances. Sam looked over the weapons, taking notes of the ones that were out of the ordinary. Steve stared at the screens, mesmerized by…something.

“Um, (Y/N)?” He asked, motioning you over.

You looked up at the images. They were all of you. Pictures of you in the field, diagrams of your anatomy, hospital records, your birth certificate. There were illustrations of you, and a few fields marked as unfulfilled: blood sample, soulmate information, DNA.

Beneath it was written Planet of Origin: Illustria

“What the actual fuck.” You said, voice flat, staring at the word. You’d never heard it before. Not even with the recent discoveries about space and the wider universe. Thor, your only connection to space, had never mentioned it. Yet, for some reason, Hydra had reason to believe you were connected to it.

“Company.” Bucky announced, readying his gun as a group of Hydra agents stormed down the tunnel. 

A section of the wall slid open and a scientist-looking man stepped into the space. Steve threw his shield, bouncing it off of three surfaces before it came back to him. The man made a run for it, but you lit your fists and ran after him. Steve followed after.

Once you were both through, the wall slid shut. On the other side, you could still hear the sounds of the fight. They needed you. But you needed answers. It was an impossible choice, made easier when he started talking.

“Ah, the Girl from Space and the Man Out of Time. How nice to have you both here in one place.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You said, fists clenched, eyes glazed over with raw power, glowing like Wanda’s did.

He laughed. “You didn’t know? Your commerades didn’t tell you? Surely they must have seen the suppressor in your neck when they were running all those tests.”

Your world came crashing down. “The what?”

“Your parents paid us to put it there. Paid SHIELD, at least, but, we’ve been one in the same for a long time. Didn’t know how to handle their little alien girl, especially at her full power, on a planet that wasn’t their own. They should have known you’d outgrow it eventually.” He tsked. “Of course, I could always take it out for you.”

“You touch her, you die.” Steve said, voice as smooth as steel. It sent a chill down your spine. “I’m warning you.”

It made sense. It was like a switch had been flipped when you were in college, your powers coming from seemingly nowhere. They’d been suppressed all your life, but finally, the suppressor stopped working. You hadn’t even known it was there. Maybe that was why you’d been stopped at so many airports.

“Not to worry Captain, I was on my way out of here anyway.” He raised his hands and started walking towards an exit tunnel.

You raised yours, making a cuff of energy around his wrist, holding him in place.

“No, you get to answer to SHIELD.” You told him. “And then you get to answer to me.”

Steve used his shield to knock the guy out with one quick, precise throw. The door behind the two of you slid open, Natasha pushing it open. There were downed Hydra agents all over the floor behind her.

“Having a party without us?”

“Something like that.” You mumbled, heart still racing.

“I got the files, (Y/N).” She said, playful demeanor falling immediately. “We’ll figure it out.”

Steve lugged the scientist over his shoulders, handing him off to the SHIELD agents who had come to help, one of whom happened to be one of the guys who was hitting on you at the bar. Go figure. Bucky and Sam joined the three of you. Sam put a hand on your shoulder and offered a supportive smile.

You still felt numb.

***

You got back to the safehouse and the snow outside doubled, coming down in droves, thick snowflakes and heavy winds. It was safe to say you would not be making it back to the Compound tonight.

You changed out of your bulletproof gear and into a tank top and sweats, running a hand through your hair. You met your eyes in the reflection, noticing how they flickered blue. In the other room, you could hear the video call finally go through with Tony and Bruce, who were back home.

“Oh don’t give me that look, Rogers.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

“What, like you’ve never kept a secret ever in your life, give me a break!”

“About her life, Tony!”

“I’ll get her.” You heard Natasha tell him, and then heard her footsteps approaching the bathroom door. She knocked. “Hey, they’re on. I made you some cocoa.”

You opened the door, letting out a sigh and nodding. “Thanks, Nat.”

She smiled, patting your shoulder and leading you out to the couch. Tony and Bruce were sitting in the living room on the screen. Steve had been pacing, obviously, given his stance and the fact that he was still standing.

You sat down, making eye contact with each of them, lips pressed into a flat line. Your heart raced, chest aching, stomach on fire from the adrenaline of it all. “So?”

Tony sighed. “You’re an alien.”

“Half.” Bruce amended. “On your mother’s side. She’s from a planet called Illustria.”

“Uh-huh, yeah. I got that part. How long have you known?”

Bruce looked at Tony, hoping he’d deliver that part of the news. He did. “I’ve known since you were recruited. Fury did a background check. You were already on the files.”

“What about the suppressor?”

“We didn’t know what it was. We didn’t know what taking it out would do to you.” Bruce admitted. “We thought you knew it was there.”

“I want it out.” You said with certainty. “I want it out as soon as we get home.”

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I want to know who I am. That starts with knowing what I’m actually capable of.” You sighed. “And call Thor. I have questions I need answered. His alien friends might know.”

“Anything else?” Tony asked.

“Who else knew.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Just me and Fury,” he said, but you couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“And Hydra.” You snapped. “What, are you afraid of me? Had to keep a lid on my powers because you’re so fucking obsessed with control?”

Tony scoffed. Clearly, you’d struck a nerve. “That’s not it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how you would take it.”

“Okay well, I think I would have been okay hearing it from a friend, in a place I felt safe. I had to hear about it from Hydra. They had a fucking cell with my name on it.” You said, trembling as you remembered it, tucked away in the corner there. That was the only explanation for it, really. And then something else clicked, too. “That…that day when Steve got tranq’ed. They weren’t trying to hit him, they were trying to hit me. He jumped in the way. They’ve…been trying to take me this entire time.”

“Oh my god, Tony…” Natasha said, voice quiet.

“Get those files to me, Nat. I’ll take a look. See if they have anything on the suppressor so I can take it out when you get back.” Bruce said, eyes soft. “And I’m sorry, for the record.”

“It’s not you I’m mad at.”

“Kid, please don’t—”

You cut Tony off with a click of the remote, hanging up the call. You let out a shaking sigh, setting the remote down. Your fingers were trembling. You took a few breaths, lungs heaving. You wanted to scream. You needed to let it out.

Everyone else on the team knew why they were there. Every other person in your life knew what made them special. Wanda’s power came from the Mind Stone, Steve’s came from the Serum, Tony’s came from his massive fucking ego. They all got the privilege of their origin story.

All of them except for you.

You needed to call your parents, if you even could. They’d told you they were moving to Florida. Now you wondered if they’d moved off the planet.

“You gonna be okay?” Sam asked, eyes trailing you as you paced through the room towards the door.

“Nope.” You walked out to the other den, burying your face in your arms, sobbing for a few minutes until you got it all out, or most of it anyway. Eight months. Eight fucking months he’d known you and didn’t think to tell you.

The chip in your shoulder burned.

You began to seriously wonder if anyone else had known. Bruce had run all those tests, surely he had seen something. He’d told you there were abnormalities, but he’d assumed they were from your powers, not the cause of them.

Steve crossed your mind briefly, but you shot that down pretty quick. He, of all people, would never keep a secret like that from you. You knew him well enough to know that.

Aside from that, the only real suspect you had was Vision. He had been JARVIS once, surely he still had some of that database in his mind. You’d give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

“Hey.” Even before you looked up, you could tell Steve would be leaning in the doorway, that lovelorn look on his face. You were right, obviously.

Tears welled in your eyes. “Steve.”

He crossed the room, collecting you in his arms, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back. You surrendered to him, crying into the fabric of his crewneck, face tucked into the crook of his neck. One of his hands cradled your head, smoothing over your hair comfortingly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He rumbled, voice deep and soothing. “I would have told you.”

“I know you would.” You sniffled, gripping him like a lifeline, your anchor in the storm. You pulled away to meet his eyes. “I feel so stupid for crying about it.”

He shook his head. “It’s not stupid. I would, too.”

“Like it’s fine. Aliens are cool. T-Thor is cool.” You sniffled again, more tears running down your cheeks. “I’m fine with being one, I just…”

“You’re still (Y/N).” He asserted, a gentle thumb wiping your tears away. “You’ve always been able to do these amazing, beautiful things. Now we know why. And maybe there’ll be even more things you can do with that thing out of your neck.”

“Yeah…” You nodded. You took a deep breath. “I’m really glad you’re here, Steve. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.”

He pulled you back into his arms to hide the look on his face. “I’ve got you. Always. We’ll figure it out.”

***

Hours later, you were curled up on the couch, asleep. Despite the fireplace raging with fresh-chopped wood, you were still shivering, pulling the blankets around yourself as tight as you could.

Steve watched you from the dining table, forlorn. Natasha nudged him, motioning towards you. He shook his head. He couldn’t. Right? What, take advantage of you in your vulnerable state?

Bucky seemed to agree with Nat, grinning into his mug of coffee. Of course they agreed. They were soulmates, after all. Just like you and Steve. 

The mark on his wrist seemed to thrum when he thought about it.

Relenting, Steve got up off of his seat, walked towards the fireplace and adjusted the logs, adding another small one for good measure. He looked back at the others, who were silently, but aggressively, encouraging him to go over to you. Sighing, he did.

He knelt down in front of you, clearing his throat, which caused you to jolt awake.

“Is everything okay? Are we under attack?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, we’re all good. Are you cold? You’re shivering.”

“Kind of, yeah.” You admitted. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise. I’ve always been kind of cold. Must be an alien thing…”

“Do you…want some company?” He asked, unsure of how to word it. “I…run warm.”

“Do you mind?” You asked, sitting up a little and raising the blankets you were under.

His heart raced. “Here, um…” He wiggled in underneath you, letting you lead as the two of you settled.

“God, you do run warm.” You hummed, all but collapsing against him, a hand flat against his chest while you adjusted.

“I didn’t always.” He said, voice sincere. “Buck and I used to have to share a bed in the winter. It was brutal.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Yeah, he snores.” Steve joked, earning a laugh.

“Oh I know. I can hear him three doors down back home.”

“And I can hear you from the other room!” Bucky called, sending you and Steve into a fit of giggles, like kids at a sleepover. “It’s a small cabin!”

You heard him and Sam devolve into a bickering match about the truth of whether or not Bucky actually snored that loud.

You looked up at Steve, asking “is it okay if I put my arm here?” while carefully draping an arm across him.

“Yeah, of course. Get comfortable.” He nodded, leaning against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

You rested your head on his firm chest, listening to the way his heart was racing. Cute.

“We could, uh, put on some music if you want.” Steve suggested. “I’ve still got that playlist on my phone.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” You asked, voice soft, curious.

“Timeless.”

“I thought it would be.” You smiled, meeting his eyes, which sparkled in the light of the fire. “You’re so timeless, Steve Rogers.”

He grinned. “You think so? You don’t think I’m a fossil like everyone else?” he said, quoting Natasha and Tony and many others who equated him to some dinosaur because of his accident.

“Not even close.” You shook your head and sighed. “This might be the wrong thing to say, but…I’m really glad you’re here. Your life could have looked a lot different, but I’m really glad you ended up in mine.”

It took every ounce of his being to hold in his tears when you said it. If he could have confessed then and there, he would have. He would have kissed you square on the lips, told you he loved you, that he always had, that you weren’t some accident, you were his destiny. Always had been.

Instead, he had to settle for, “I’m getting used to it, but I am, too. I’m really glad I found you that day, (Y/N).”

“Me too.” You smiled, readjusting your cheek against his chest, letting out a long breath. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night.”

His warmth lulled you to sleep after a long, emotional day. Never had you felt so safe and protected. It was easy to feel that way in the arms of a supersoldier, you supposed, thoughts meandering until there weren’t any left. You were asleep in minutes, breaths slow and long and even.

Once he was absolutely sure you were out, Steve pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, grateful beyond words to have you in his arms again, grateful you were safe, grateful you were his.

Even if you didn’t know it yet.

***

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the sliver of a gap in the curtains, right into your eyes. You blinked a few times, trying to figure out why the mattress was moving. And then you remembered. Steve.

The supersoldier was still asleep, breaths long and slow, those thick, gorgeous eyelashes resting against his sharp cheekbones, lips impossibly pink. His muscled arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other settled on the couch.

Your eyes wandered to the band on his wrist. It was out of place slightly, the edge almost crooked enough to read the letters etched onto his skin. Almost.

There was a part of you that was tempted to look. To nudge it aside the tiniest bit, say it was an accident, and finally know who it was that had been holding his heart in their hands for the last seventy or so years.

But you couldn’t do that to him. He trusted you enough to hold you while he slept, while he was the most vulnerable. You respected him too much to do that. So instead, you adjusted slightly, closing your eyes again.

“(Y/N).” Natasha said from the doorway of the kitchen.

“Hmm?” You replied, eyes opening again.

She eyed up the two of you, grinning. “Cute.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got those files sent to Bruce. He doesn’t think it’ll be a problem getting that thing out of you. Won’t even have to put you under.”

“Cool.” You nodded. “Is it…like right between my neck and my shoulder? On the right side?”

“That’s where it is on the diagrams, yeah.”

“Okay. Thought so. I get pain there sometimes.”

“During training?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it was anything serious. Thought it was like a pulled muscle or a pinched nerve or something.”

“You never said anything.” Steve murmured, blinking awake. “You were in pain that whole time?”

“No. It comes and goes. Mostly when I try out new stuff.” You said, still planted on his chest, looking up at him.

He smiled. “Morning.”

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Really well, actually. How did you sleep?”

“Like a fucking rock.” You grinned. “You weren’t kidding about running warm. Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime.”

“Let’s get a move on, team.” Sam said, walking out from the bedrooms down the hall, Bucky not far behind him, looking tired.

You reluctantly left the warmth of your shared cocoon, sitting up and stretching, brushing your fingers through your tangled hair. “Alright, let’s go get this thing out of me.”

Show Yourself

“Alright, so, this might hurt a bit. Are you ready?” Bruce warned. You were laid out on a table on your stomach, a curled pillow beneath your head. It was a bit like a massage, except Bruce had made an incision at the base of your neck where your suppressor was implanted. He’d given you some numbing gel and pain meds, though, so you didn’t feel much.

On the other side of the observation window, Steve was standing with Natasha, his arms crossed, eyes focused. Tony wasn’t allowed even in there, which pissed him off. He’d tried to get on your good side when you’d gotten home and you blew him off completely, which, Steve had to admit, was amusing.

And Tony definitely deserved it.

“I’m good. Go for it.”

Carefully, Bruce used his tools to wiggle it free from your flesh, setting off a chain reaction in your body. The wave of relief you felt was almost enough to put you to sleep, a refreshing, cool sensation rushing from your head to your toes. Power crackled between your fingers, and you could feel your eyes glowing for a moment, despite the fact that you couldn’t see your reflection.

Bruce moved to stitch you up, but your body did the work for him, mending back together on its own before his very eyes. He adjusted his glasses, sure he was seeing things. But no, the wound was healed, just leaving a little dried blood on your skin, which he wiped off with a wet piece of gauze.

“Woahhh.” You murmured, coming out of the trance. You blinked a few times and it felt like waking up from a college nap, the kind you don’t set an alarm for and then come out of in a stupor.

“You feel okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” You nodded. “Are you done? Did you stitch it up?”

“I…didn’t have to.” He murmured, still staring at the spot. He handed you the shirt you’d brought in and you tugged it over your head, staring at your arms, your hands. You didn’t look any different, but it was like every atom in your body was electrified.

It felt right.

Bruce opened the door and Steve and Natasha walked in, watching your every move.

“Wow.” Natasha said, grinning. “You look…”

“The same, but…more you.” Steve met your eyes, offering you his hand. 

You took it, letting him help you stand. Even his touch felt different now. Better. You settled, adjusting. It felt different, like even the gravity itself had changed. It would take some getting used to.

“I need to hit the training room.” You said with an excited grin. “You two are welcome to join me.”

“Can I watch? I want to take notes.” Bruce said. “From the observation booth, of course.”

“Oh yeah, by all means.” You nodded, leading the others down the hallway. A few others tagged along, Yelena, Kate, Wanda, who were all curious to see what you were capable of now, and just how much Tony’s lies had been holding you back. Sam and Bucky were already there and smiled when they saw you coming, Steve and the others in tow.

They cleared out some room, letting you have the space you needed. You stretched and then got to work.

First, you made a few forcefields. They still had that shimmer, like sunlight in a swimming pool, but they were twice as thick as they had been before. Steve couldn’t break them with his super-strength anymore.

You had more control over your waypoints and your portals, which, the more you used them, were becoming two different things. The waypoints, your stars, were a quick zip from point A to point B. Your portals, however, were more like a window that you could open and close, and took on more of a circular shape.

You were stronger, too. Nowhere near as strong as Bucky or Steve, but twice as strong as you’d been before, faster.

And then came the other thing. If you focused hard enough, and focused on the floaty, tingly feeling in your chest, your body started to glow around the edges, and at long last, your feet rose from the floor.

“Oh my god…” You murmured, lifting yourself from the tile ground. At first, it was hard to control, but you quickly figured out how to get from point to point, and how to hover in the middle.

Steve stared up at you as you hovered, fists lit with power, hair floating in the breeze you’d created. It was like watching the birth of a star, powerful and beautiful and otherworldly.

For the first time since 1943, he knew in his soul that he had to paint you, exactly like this. He memorized the moment in his mind, every detail from the streak of sunlight on your chest to the misplaced strand of hair on your forehead, the exact hue of your glowing irises.

“A picture might last longer.” Natasha teased under her breath, watching as you touched down.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Steve replied, already picking out a color palette in his head.

“Holy shit…” You breathed, the glow dissipating as you returned to normal. “What a rush.”

“Welcome to the fly club, kid.” Sam said, patting you on the back.

“Thanks.” You grinned. “You’ll have to give me some pointers sometime.”

“Oh, anytime.” Sam walked over to Steve with you. “You see her up there? She’s like Superman.”

“I saw.” Steve agreed, arms crossed. “I think this calls for celebration, huh?”

“What did you have in mind, Cap?” You asked.

“Baja Blast?” He suggested, earning a laugh and a friendly shove.

“So you did like it?”

“It’s growin’ on me.” Steve admitted, that sly smile spreading. “Come on, my treat.”

“Oh I’m in.” You agreed. “Let me just take these monitors off.”

You turned in Bruce’s software, all of the vital-measuring instruments, cuffs and little sensors hooked to your arms and legs and chest.

“So, give it to me straight, doc. Am I stable?”

“Yeah, everything looks great. Vitals are great, heartrate is fine, if not a little elevated, but I’d assume that’s just from the adrenaline.” Bruce noted, looking at the numbers and charts on the screen in front of him. “If you feel weird, let me know and I can check things over, do some scans, but otherwise, it seems…you’re doing better than you were before, actually.”

“Alright, good to know.” You said, trying not to let his words hurt you. 

It was good news, it really was, but you could have felt this way for eight months, not two hours. You were thinking faster, processing things at better speeds. Hell, it even felt like you were breathing easier. Whatever that thing was that had been inside you, it had been sapping your health for your entire life. And now, you finally knew what it was like to be at a hundred percent instead of eighty.

Fuck Tony.

***

Steve drove the two of you through the nearest Taco Bell drive-thru to get snacks for yourselves and the rest of the team.

You ordered your regular, your Baja Blast, and everything the others had requested, running it on one of the team cards Tony had given you all. On the drive back, Steve had a question you didn’t really expect.

“Where do people shop for art supplies these days?”

“Jo Ann’s or Michael’s. They have a little bit of everything. Fabric, yarn, paint, beads, basically everything you could need. Why, you got a DIY project planned?”

“Something like that, yeah.” He grinned. “I don’t do much shopping, so I didn’t know where to start.”

“We should go sometime. I was running low on yarn.” You said, taking a sip of your Baja Blast.

“Make anything cool lately?”

“I’m working on a sunflower cardigan for Wanda.”

“Oh she’ll love that.”

“Yeah, she’s the one who sent me the pattern.” You chuckled. “It’s gonna look really cute on her.”

The two of you got back a few minutes later, a drove of hungry superheroes descending upon the paper bags you were carrying almost instantly. It was a welcome sight, a full table of laughing people. Your family. You felt a little different now, but nothing had changed. Not really. They still liked you, still smiled at you, joked with you, laughed with you.

So then why had Tony felt the need to hide it for so long?

***

Days later, Steve walked down the paint aisle of the craft store, picking out some brushes, some canvas, paints. He found the perfect one for your eyes, another hue for your forcefields. The amount of time he spent looking at you made it easy.

He smiled to himself. The little guy from Brooklyn would be proud of him, getting back into art beyond the sketches he did from time to time. It reminded him, though, that he needed to swing back to that antique shop and finally pick up the painting that had been waiting for him for so long.

Surely, he could keep it hidden until your big day.

Happiest Place on Earth

Being an Avenger often brought along unexpected adventures and opportunities. Today, that adventure was a theme park. Apparently, Disneyland was putting in a whole section in homage to the Avengers and Tony wanted you all to be there.

And though the two of you weren’t on the best terms at the moment, who were you to fight a free vacation?

You and Wanda helped pick out each others’ outfits for your day off following the grand opening. But today, you were wandering the park in uniform, side by side with Captain America himself, as you walked side by side down the street in the parade.

They’d tried to teach you all to do a little dance as you walked. The only one even attempting it was Scott, who was absolutely thrilled to be there. Supposedly, his daughter Cassie would be there to see him, too. You hadn’t met her yet, but Scott loved her to the moon and back. With him as a dad, she’d have to turn out pretty cool.

“Waypoint,” Steve said, motioning you over to see a little girl dressed not as a princess, but as you, your star shining proudly on her chest.

“Hey there, superstar.” You smiled, giving her a high-five. “You look great!”

“I want to be a hero just like you someday!” She said, her voice impossibly small. Impossibly innocent. It was a cute moment, but you couldn’t help but hope she’d never have to be. That someday, you and the rest of the team would get the world to a place where superheroes weren’t needed, where there was just peace. Where people with powers could simply be like everyone else.

“You already are, hon.” You told her, posing for a picture as her mom held up her phone.

You continued along the parade route and saw a couple. The guy was wearing a Captain America hoodie, the girl was wearing a Waypoint shirt. You wondered if Steve noticed, but didn’t have to ask when you saw his eyes lingering there, his mask all but hiding the faint blush on his cheeks.

A few teenage girls stopped you and you signed their autograph books, throwing something together. Despite your time on the team, there had never really been a time you’d been stopped for them. It was an odd feeling, being famous for something like this.

Steve signed with confidence, though. Sometimes you forgot that before he actually got to go out in the field and make a difference, he’d done a stint as a celebrity, touring the country to sell war bonds.

Someday, you’d bribe him enough to show you the videos, if he hadn’t already burnt all of them first.

“Are you excited for your birthday?” One asked. “I heard your twenty-fifth is coming up.”

“Oh! Yeah! I mean, I guess I’m more anxious than anything. It’s the big one.”

“You’re going to have every twenty-four year old in the country on the edge of their seat waiting to find out if they’re the one.” Another joked. 

You laughed along. “Yeah, I guess it’s coming whether I want it to or not.”

You were near the end of the route, so it wasn’t long after that you were off the hook to walk around a bit, get something to eat.

Steve turned to you, trying to sound casual when he asked, “You don’t want your birthday to come?”

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged. “I’m not entirely set on the idea of pledging myself to some stranger for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not always a stranger.” Steve said. “Maybe you already know them.”

“That’s true. That would be…I mean, it would be better, sure, but…I’m pretty sure the only person I want it to be already has someone else.” You couldn’t meet his eyes when you said it, afraid of the answer, one way or the other, whether he finally said it outright, or if those pretty blue eyes said it for him.

You couldn’t handle the heartbreak.

“Wait—”

“(Y/N), we have time to hop on Pirates of the Caribbean.” Wanda said, swooping in to save you. She was really good at that. She took your hand and the two of you ran off in the direction of the ride.

Natasha walked up behind Steve, hand in hand with Bucky, who was nibbling on a churro. Obviously, they had heard the exchange.

“Fuck.” Steve muttered, shaking his head. “Well, great.”

“What’s going on, soldier?” Natasha asked.

“She’s gonna be so pissed when she finds out it’s me.” Steve said, voice small, as he watched you walk away. He waited for you to glance back at him. You didn’t.

“What are you talking about? Steve, she’s liked you for months. She listened to Songs for Sad Bitches when she thought she couldn’t have you.” Natasha reasoned. “Feelings like that don’t just go away.”

Bucky chimed, “Are we forgetting the night at the cabin?”

“That was three months ago.” Steve said, staring at his shoes. “I…I’ve been keeping it from her this entire time, hiding it from her, letting her feel like shit and stress herself out over it. I shouldn’t have gotten so close in the first place, but…I just can’t keep myself away from her. She looks at me with those eyes and I just…crumble.”

“I hear ya, pal.” Bucky said, patting his arm. “But you remember the look in her eyes at the bar that night? You remember the things she said to you? That (Y/N) is still a month away. She still has feelings for you. She still loves you, and she’s…she’s even excited to see the little guy.”

“She loved the little guy.” Steve agreed, smiling softly, remembering the look on your face when he’d found you, laying on his porch, the tenderness with which you’d whispered his name. In a world that constantly looked down on him, figuratively and literally, you were the first person aside from Bucky that made him feel loved, like he had something waiting for him.

Steve let out a long breath, nodding. Bucky was right. Back in the forties, he’d been the level-headed voice of reason, getting Steve out of the trouble his big mouth got him into. Even in the twenty-first century, he was still doing his damage control. In a way, he had missed it.

“Alright, now I know I missed some chapters.” Sam was on Steve’s other side, holding an ice cream sandwich, eyes wide. “When exactly were you going to tell me your soulmate is on the team?”

Steve chuckled. “Surprise?”

“Welcome to the inner circle, Sam. We’ve been waiting for you.” Natasha joked, wearing a grin.

“I mean, it explains a hell of a lot. Here I was thinking she was like…the grandkid of one of your old war buddies or something.”

“That’s what I thought!” Natasha agreed. She and Bucky finally filled Sam in on everything he’d missed over the past several months.

Steve’s eyes wandered back to that couple, dressed as him and you. They were holding hands, walking down the pathway, laughing, talking. They stopped for a selfie together in front of the Avengers Campus sign, which inevitably devolved into a kiss.

And in his head, he replaced them with him and you, carefree and in love in the happiest place on earth.

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Maybe, if you lied very still, you could convince the universe no time was passing at all. You were staring at the ceiling, flat on your back, the weight of the world resting flat against your entire body. No, against your soul, weighing you down.

Tomorrow was your birthday and you were not ready. Not in the slightest.

You let out a loud groan, forcing yourself to get up, to get dressed. You chucked your pajamas in your hamper, throwing on some joggers and a t-shirt, the old Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. It was a simple one, black with stars scattered across the fabric, the yellow logo emblazoned across the front.

There was a knock on your door.

“It’s open.” You called, not turning around to see who it was. You put on your star necklace, the one Steve had given you almost an entire year before. You tucked it under the fabric of the shirt.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” Steve asked, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes searching.

“Not well.” You sighed, turning to look at him.

“I didn’t either when mine was coming. I swear I didn’t get any sleep for a week.” He said, eyes soft. “I, um, got breakfast. It’s in the kitchen. Those breakfast sandwiches you like.”

Your lips curled into a tired smile. “Thanks. That’s really sweet.”

“Of course. Whatever you want today, just say the word.”

You crossed the room, walking right up to him and straight into his arms. He held you to him, read resting against yours. For a moment, he questioned if it had already happened, if he’d gotten the days mixed up.

If you already knew.

“I just need you to hold me.” You whispered, holding in tears. You should have been excited. It should have felt like Christmas Eve. You should have been absolutely buzzing with excitement for the day to come.

But you weren’t ready to let him go, for everything about your relationship to change. You needed more time.

“I can do that.” He said softly, thumbs etching circles into your shoulders. “As long as you need me to. I’ve got you. Always.”

“Okay.” You whispered, voice breaking. The tears finally slipping down your cheeks. It was all you could say to keep yourself from saying ‘I love you.’

You ate breakfast with the others. Natasha could tell you had been crying, so after, she took you, Wanda, Kate, and Yelena out of the house. It was a welcome distraction. The mall was the perfect spot. It always was. 

“What about this one?” Wanda held another dress against you, imagining you in it for your birthday party the following night. Steve had taken it upon himself to be the entire planning committee, which was why he was back at the Compound with the boys, getting things in order. The only thing he wanted to have to worry about tomorrow was the party itself.

“Does it come in blue?” You asked, eyeing up the rack she’d pulled it off of.

“It does.” She smiled, putting the red one back in exchange for blue. It was sparkling, form-fitting, a little less formal than the one you’d worn to your Avengers induction, but it had the same vibe, just shorter and with a deeper neckline.

“Perfect.” You said, turning towards the dressing room. You handed Wanda your purse and slipped into it. It fit perfectly in all the right places. You did a little turn in the mirror, satisfied, and then walked out into the store again, where Natasha was nodding in approval.

“Alright, dress acquired, where to next?” Kate asked, checking the list she was keeping on her phone.

“I heard there is a Lego store here.” Yelena said absentmindedly, glancing out the door. “We should go.”

“Is that where you got Steve’s Millennium Falcon?” Natasha asked.

“Steve has a Millennium Falcon???” Yelena asked, eyes wide. “I want one.”

“I got it online. It was on sale.”

“I didn’t know Steve liked Star Wars.” Kate noted as you walked back into the dressing room to change back into your Star Wars shirt, ironically enough.

“Loves it. He’s a big nerd. Bucky, too. Buck’s more of a fantasy nerd, though. He’s super into Lord of the Rings.” You could hear the grin in Natasha’s voice when she said it.

“Steve said it was the first thing he watched out of the ice. Star Wars, that is. I don’t know if he’s seen Lord of the Rings yet.” You added. “And he’s talked about going to the Stark Expo back in the day. Vintage nerd.”

“Nice.”

Once you’d paid for the dress, you moved on to the Lego Store, where Yelena just about ran to the Millennium Falcon set to see it for herself.

“Lego typewriter.” Natasha noted, pointed at it. “Speaking of vintage nerd.”

“Oh I’m sure he’d get a kick out of that.” You laughed. Depending on how things settled after your soulmate bomb dropped, maybe you’d come back and get it for him. At the very least, you were pretty sure you’d still be friends after it all. And friends built Lego sets together.

“Hey, wait, there are Legos of us?” Kate asked, eyeing up the display where Steve had, you assumed, gotten your matching keychains. “This is news to me.”

“Let me see.” Yelena walked over and gasped, eyes falling on her Lego self.

Wanda smiled softly, head tilting as she looked at you. She rested her hand on your shoulder.

“It will be fine. To quote someone I care about very deeply: whoever they are, they are lucky to have you. Now, let’s forget about it for a bit.”

“Alright.” You agreed, letting her lead you over to the Build-a-Figure station, where you started mixing and matching the pieces. It was hard, but you let your worries melt away, at least for a little while.

***

Meanwhile, Steve was walking around the Compound with a clipboard, making sure everything was ready for the next day. Scott and the ants were helping put up the decorations. He’d sent Sam and Bucky to pick up the cake, and Tony had taken it upon himself to take care of the catering. A peace offering of sorts.

Steve was putting together the playlist for the party himself, hand-picking songs you liked, recommendations from Nat and Wanda, songs from Taylor Swift’s discography, and then, finally, a special song he’d been saving. 

Steve liked to listen to his records in the privacy of his room, away from the ears of members of the team who would tease him for it. They were forties jazz mostly, made the place feel a little more like home, especially when you weren’t around. But there was a song that he would soon share with you, as soon as tomorrow came. He hesitated to add it, but eventually, he pressed his thumb to the song, adding it to the playlist.

He closed his eyes, remembering that moment. The last song of the night before Val’s closed. It was one of the last times he had gone there.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when…” The singer’s voice had floated across the room, words striking him to his core. He got chills, opening his eyes again. God, he couldn’t wait for you to know. Sure, he was a supersoldier, but he was pretty sure the weight of his secret was finally crushing him.

***

You retreated to your room when you and the girls got home. It was kind of late. You’d decided to catch a movie while you were out. You didn’t mind. You were beyond ready to go to sleep and just…get it over with.

Off with the Band-Aid.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Steve asked, finding Natasha and Kate in the dining room.

“She went to her room for the night.” Kate replied innocently.

“Alright.” He nodded. “How was she doing?”

“Not great.” Yelena said, already into the box of the Lego set she’d settled on. “I mean, she’s like fine. Just…kinda sad.”

“Quiet.” Wanda agreed. Vision had his arm around her.

“Okay, well…” Steve put his hands on his hips, thinking. What was the harm in telling them now? Warning the rest of them what they’d be waking up to tomorrow. “Vision, can you round up the others?”

“Of course.” Vision nodded. “To be clear, I am to leave out (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everyone but (Y/N).” Steve confirmed, leading the others upstairs to one of the lounges. He sat on the couch, mouth resting against his hands, elbows on his knees. Tony sauntered in, followed by Bruce. The rest of the team filed in one by one, finding seats, staring at Steve, waiting for answers.

“So, um, thanks for coming everyone.” Steve said, meeting their eyes.

“Uh, Cap, we’re missing (Y/N).” Clint said, looking around.

“That’s the idea.” Natasha replied.

“Is this a party planning meeting? Do the decorations look okay? I really thought the ants did a good job.” Scott said.

“They did a great job.” Steve reassured him, taking a moment to collect his words. “So, as you all know, tomorrow is (Y/N)’s twenty-fifth birthday. And…I need to finally come clean. I’m her soulmate.”

“Okay, now that I did not know.” Tony said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Your long lost love is one of our housemates?”

“Tony.” Nat shot him a look.

“No, I’m serious. I’m just…I’m relieved is all.” Tony admitted with a sigh. “I…the reason I didn’t tell her is because I didn’t know if Illustrians…I didn’t know if she’d have one. I figured…” He shook his head, staring at the floor. “I didn’t want to bring her down when it was so close.”

Steve took off the cuff on his wrist, finally finally showing him the mark that had been there since his twenty-fifth birthday in 1943. Your name, written in your neat, careful handwriting, first, middle, and last.

“Why not tell her, then?” Kate asked. “Why haven’t you told her?”

“That’s a little more complicated.” Steve thought. “When I turned twenty-five…she was there. In a few hours, when she goes to sleep, she’s headed to the forties to see…well, me, before the serum. I don’t know how or why, but…when she got there, she didn’t know. I didn’t want to risk changing anything. Butterfly effect and all that.”

“Time travel?” Bruce asked, eyes bugging out of his head. “You are just casually telling us that time travel exists.”

“I guess so.”

“Woah. Bruce. We’ve got some tests to run.” Tony said.

“Oh I am already taking notes in my head.”

The meeting ended shortly after that. The rest of the team gave him supportive words and smiles, but Tony’s were the most poignant. 

“I don’t know what you’re still doing here, Rogers. Go see her off.”

“Right. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good luck, Steve.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

***

You closed the door after Steve left, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall, steady and even. You let another tear roll down your cheek. All of the crying was exhausting. You just wanted to be done with it.

You sat on the bed, taking off your bra and chucking it across the room, laying back to relax and, hopefully, get some sleep.

The exhaustion must have been helping, because as soon as you closed your eyes, you felt the drifting start. It was strong and immediate, pulling you down through the mattress. You felt like you were floating and falling at the same time, limbs tingling. Your eyes shot open when you realized what was happening, but it was already too late.

And then everything went white.

Right Where You Left Me

In 1943, you walked hand in hand with your soulmate down the sidewalk, through Steve’s favorite park. It happened to be a shortcut between his favorite diner and the local theater. He liked to sit there sometimes, sketch couples walking by. Never had he imagined he’d be one of the couples someday.

For the past week, he’d about worried himself sick. He’d barely slept, he’d had no appetite, he’d had the worst art block of his life. Every time he fell asleep, he had dreams of finding his soulmate, only for them to be some pretty but shallow girl who didn’t want anything to do with him. He had nightmares of a grayed out mark like Bucky’s, or worse, no mark at all. Which is why when he’d run out that morning to get the mail, he hadn’t even checked yet.

Part of him didn’t want to.

And then he’d found you out there, laying under the mailbox.

And now, he was holding your hand. 

You caught his eyes, grinning. He smiled back, heart racing. Gosh, maybe he needed to sit down.

“Hey, could we sit for a minute?” He asked, motioning to the bench beside the path and trying his best not to sound out of breath.

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed, following him and sitting down beside him, hand still clasped tight in yours. “Do you have an inhaler?”

“What’s an inhaler?”

“Shit, right, they probably haven’t been invented yet…” You murmured, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“You…know about the asthma.” He realized.

You nodded. “I know about all of it, Steve.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And you’re still looking at me with those eyes?”

“What eyes?” You tilted your head, innocent. “There’s no one else I’d rather be looking at, Steve. Just you.”

“Okay, now I know you’re not real.”

“Am I gonna have to spend all day convincing you I am?”

“You just might.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a reddish mark there. “Oops. Sorry, let me—”

Steve grabbed your hand, stopping you from wiping it away. “Leave it. Bucky comes home covered in ‘em all the time. I’ve never gotten one before.”

“I am going to cover you in lipstick marks by the end of today.”

He grinned, finally standing up to keep moving. “Is that a promise?”

***

It was nearing the end of the night. Steve could feel his time with you was nearly spent. So he led you by the hand to the stairs at the back of the bar, the ones that led up to the roof. He’d found himself up there alone on quite a few nights, when the double dates Bucky set up inevitably crumbled.

It was a beautiful night, clear. The stars were out in force, dotting the sky in perfect constellations. In the distance, fireworks boomed. It was one thing he’d always loved about his birthday.

“Wow, this is great.” You murmured, looking out at the city. It was like you were living in a photograph, the old buildings looming in the skyline, vintage cars driving down the street.

“My favorite spot.” He explained, walking over to the railing.

“I can see why.” You let out a sigh, gripping his hand tighter, fingers laced with his. You turned towards him, looking at the smattering of kiss marks on his cheeks. You’d kept true to your word.

Steve twirled you around, pulling you closer, a soft, romantic smile on his face. “God, you are so beautiful.”

“Let me show you something.” You told him, drawing his eyes to your hand where you made a tiny, gentle forcefield, its blue light shining across his features.

“What…is that?” He asked, staring at the orb. “Is that how you got here? Where were you keeping it?”

You curled your fingers, letting the bubble fizzle away. “It’s not a thing. It’s part of me. Something I’ve been able to do since college. There are a lot of people like me where I’m from, people with gifts. Steve…after I leave, your life is about to get a lot weirder than time travel and forcefields. I can’t tell you how or why, but…”

“I appreciate the heads-up.” He assured you, smiling. “And I love you, too. I didn’t say it down there, and I know I just met you this morning, but…I…I love you so much, doll. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

“You, Steve Rogers, are going to do amazing things.” You whispered, taking his hand again.

“Says the girl with superpowers.”

“I’m serious.” You told him. “I grew up hearing stories about you. I wanted to be just like you. Brave beyond words, fiercely loyal. I guess it only makes sense that we share a soul.”

Steve grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you deeply, lips dancing against your own, heart racing, knees wobbling like Jell-O. He rested his nose against yours, breathing shallow.

“Careful, there. Don’t let me take your breath away.”

He shook his head, kissing you one last time before murmuring, “Oh doll, I could do this all day.” He glanced back towards the door, music from downstairs faint. He took your hand. “Let’s go back downstairs. I think they’re playing the last song.”

You smirked, following him. “I thought you had two left feet.”

He shrugged. “I’m a quick learner.”

***

After you’d disappeared, Steve felt hollow, walking slowly back into the house. Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table, absently reading the paper. He met Steve’s eyes when he heard his trudging footsteps.

“She left you something.” Bucky chucked the bundle of fabric at him and Steve caught it, holding it out in front of him.

Your Star Wars shirt. Shit. He hoped you didn’t need it for anything. “Uh oh.”

“Might fit you.” Bucky chuckled. “Obviously you can’t wear it out, but…”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed, eyes sparkling with tears. He held it to his face, inhaling the scent of your perfume like it was oxygen. “God, I miss her.”

“I know, pal. It’ll be alright. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it will be.” Bucky’s eyes fell to the grayed out mark on his own wrist, so faint it was barely legible. “You just gotta take it one day at the time.”

Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When

Your veins were on fire. The blinding white shimmered, giving way to…your ceiling. You were laying on your bed again, sunlight streaming through the window.

You blinked a few times, feeling flowing back into your limbs slowly. Your heart raced. You sat up, staring at your hands. Soon enough, your eyes found your wrist. The letters were still there, spelling out the name of your soulmate.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“Oh my god.” You looked up and met your reflection’s eyes, your hair still set in elegant 40s waves. Your pajamas were gone, replaced with the blue dress. Your lips were a deep shade of red, the same shade you’d left all over Steve’s face last night. A different Steve in a different time.

You let out a breath, standing up and walking towards the door, your new-vintage forties heels clicking with every step. You marched straight out to the kitchen, where Steve was sitting at the table, fiddling with his cuff. He was sitting across the table from Bucky and Natasha, whose eyes tried to warn Steve that you were approaching behind him.

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Um, how’d you sleep?” He asked, eyes widening when he saw the way you were dressed. His first love, in the flesh, just the way he remembered her.

“I didn’t.” You replied, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the room, snatching up the folding footstool leaned on the end counter as you passed.

“Good luck, pal.” Bucky laughed.

You just about kicked open the door of the conference room, skirt swishing as you did. You closed the door behind you, locking it with a click.

“(Y/N), listen, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but—”

You unfolded the stool, getting up on top of it and pushing him against the wall. You crushed your lips against his, hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. He moaned into your mouth, frozen for a moment until the rest of him got the hint. His eyes fluttered shut, strong arms wrapped around your waist, head tilting as he deepened the kiss.

Your grip on his shirt weakened, arms looping behind his neck, holding him close as his lips left yours. He rested his forehead against yours, breaths ragged. He laughed, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to hide the tint of his cheeks.

“Not quite where I thought this conversation was gonna go.” He murmured against you, pressing kisses up your neck.

You reached for his left hand, fingers lingering against the strip of leather that was still hiding your name.

“You can take it off.” He told you, eyes sparkling. “It’s about time.”

Carefully, you undid the metal bit holding it in place and peeled it back, revealing your name etched there onto his skin, your handwriting unmistakable. You choked on a sob, tears slipping down your face.

“The whole time?” You asked, grabbing onto his hand with both of yours. “You knew the whole time?”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, eyes falling to the hand you were holding. “I…You didn’t know when I met you. I didn’t want to risk…changing anything.” I didn’t want to risk losing you.

“I can’t believe…Here I thought I was your rebound.” You laughed, sniffling through your tears of relief. “I thought you were falling in love with me and I would be the asshole for getting a soulmate and breaking your heart. And it was me the whole time.”

“That’s why you were worried we wouldn’t be friends?” He asked softly.

You nodded, more tears falling when you remembered the way you’d felt day before.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He shook his head, wiping your tears away. “Honestly…I’m really glad we got to be friends first. Most soulmates don’t get that. It made me appreciate every moment with you even more. It was weird and hard, but…loving you was easy. Always has been. It was not telling you that was crushing me.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner…” You said, shaking your head. “All of those little moments…the reading chair, the Hunger Games marathon, the cabin…” Your heart ached remembering the night in the cabin. 

You remembered him sleeping against the wall in the infirmary after you’d been knocked unconscious, unwilling and unable to leave you alone when you were hurt. You remembered the bewildered look in his eyes when he thought you were dressed up for a date instead of Wanda’s birthday outing. The argument about whether or not you should go on the Red Room mission, when he was more worried about your safety than anything else, broken over the idea of something happening to you when he wasn’t there to help. The Lego set you’d spent hours building together, his hands so careful, fingers brushing against yours every so often. The mission in the Amazon, when the only thing he could think about while pseudo-drunk was you.

It was always you. It had always been you. 

“Steve…”

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked quietly, watching you, searching your eyes for some flicker of disappointment. “It’s okay if you need time. I’d understand. It’s…well, it’s a lot to process.”

“I just…” You sighed, squeezing his hand. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Believe it.” He said. He raised your hand, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. “I love you, (Y/N) (L/N). I always have.”

“I love you too.” You confessed, earning that handsome smile he was so famous for. You couldn’t help but admire him, your supersoldier, the man that time had saved specifically for you. “I don’t need time. I just need you.”

You looked down at your new dress, realizing for the first time what it meant that you were still wearing it. You’d left your other clothes behind.

“Right. Before I forget.” Steve said, presenting a tattered, faded wad of fabric that had once been a shirt. “You left this at my place.”

You unfurled the fabric to find your missing Star Wars shirt, or what was left of it. You stared at it, dumbfounded. “You’ve had this the whole time?!”

“Took it everywhere with me.” He admitted. “Storming Hydra bases in Europe, Battle of New York, Sokovia, everywhere. I used to wear it, back when I was…you know, but it didn’t fit after my growth spurt. Sorry I couldn’t get it to you in better shape.”

“This is why you like Star Wars.” You realized, staring at it and looking back up at him.

“Yes.”

“Oh my god.” You laughed, shaking your head. You handed it back to him. “I think you need this more than I do, Steve. You can hold onto it for me if you want.”

He smiled, eyes soft. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course. I know it’s safe in your hands.”

Your shirt wasn’t the only thing that was safe in his hands. You were pretty sure, finally, that your heart was, too.

You stepped down from your footstool. Steve watched with an amused smile, chuckling.

“We had less of a height difference last night.” You reminded him, folding up the stool.

“I remember.” He reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He brought it to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles with care. “God, I missed this. I missed you so much, doll. Which is silly because you’ve been here, but…”

“I get it.” You reassured him, dropping his hands and wrapping your arms around him instead. 

He hugged you to his chest, resting his head against yours and letting out a long breath. You could tell he’d been holding it in for a long, long time.

***

Before you changed out of your forties look, Wanda insisted on a little photoshoot, which you were grateful for. Looking back, it would be fun to have pictures, even just as more proof that it had actually happened. Steve obviously sat in on some of the photos.

You asked some questions, of course, such as “who all knew?” The answer was everyone, but not until the night before when he’d finally come clean to the team. Before that, it had just been Bucky and Nat, and more recently, Sam.

Wanda claimed she had felt something, but never pried. Anyone could see it, though. Anyone with eyeballs. The way he looked at you had always been with love.

You changed into your dress for the party, necklace on display between your collarbones. You touched up your makeup a little bit, but left it. Bucky’s vintage lady friend had done a good job.

Tony showed up about an hour before the party was supposed to start, instructing the caterers. He stopped in his tracks, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. “Rogers tell you my side of the story?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And I appreciate you looking out for me. Kind of. In your own way.”

“And I am sorry, for the record. Maybe there would have been a way to bring it up without…you know.” Tony shrugged. “Happy birthday, kid. I’m glad it all worked out for you and the old-timer.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got in touch with your parents. You were right. They’re off-planet. But I have their contact info if you want to…”

“Yeah, I’d really like that. Thank you, Tony.”

“Of course. I’ll get that all squared away.”

Steve walked up to you as Tony walked away, eyes landing on the necklace there. You realized, as he stared at it, that you’d been wearing it the night before. You hadn’t taken it off before bed.

“Is that what you meant when you said you had help picking it out?” You realized, putting the pieces together. “I thought you meant Natasha or something.”

“No, I uh…” He grinned, nodding. “I got a good look at it that night. You never said who gave it to you, but I figured it may as well be me.”

Steve was wearing a blue button-up, his nice black slacks that did everything for his legs. He’d shaved, combed his hair all neat. His hand settled on the small of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You stood on your toes, hooking an arm around his neck and tugging him down for a kiss, lips melting against his. You felt his warm hand settle on your jaw, tilting your head just so. He smelled good, like his woodsy mahogany cologne. His breath was fresh, spearmint. And his lips were soft, confident but gentle.

His nose nuzzled yours, breath warm as it fanned across your cheeks. He met your eyes for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling you against him again. Now that he could touch you freely, he just couldn’t get enough.

“Bout time.” Bucky chuckled, walking into the room, Natasha’s hand in his. She looked great, wearing a nice red dress. “How are you two doing?”

“Great, Buck.” Steve replied, still not letting you go as he swayed. “I’m doin’ great. How are you, birthday girl?”

“It’s the best one I’ve had so far.” You said, echoing his words when you’d asked him the same question. You kissed him again, lips finding his easily.

He smiled, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Same here.” You told him. “I’ve had a crush on you since middle school. Imagine how I feel.”

“Middle school???” He asked, laughing.

“Yeah, why do you think I was crying at Air and Space Museum?”

“I was still in the ice!”

“Middle school girl crushes know no bounds, Captain Rogers.” Kate said, her and Yelena walking into the room next, more or less matching in their black dresses and purple and red accents. “I had plenty of crushes on old dead guys when I was in middle school. No offense.”

He laughed. “None taken.”

The party guests arrived in waves. The remainder of the team came, along with the extended family: Maria Hill, Jane Foster and her intern Darcy. A handful of your college friends came, buzzing about the prospect of being at the Avengers Compound, as well as the fact that you were an Avenger now, since most of them hadn’t seen you since that change had occurred.

You greeted them all as they came in, smiling and laughing and joking around like you did during the good old days. You introduced them to your new friends, your team. The playlist Steve had agonized over set the perfect tone. Some songs were upbeat and danceable, some were chill and slow, giving the couples in the room the chance to pair off and dance together.

During one of such songs, Steve offered his hand.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Like old times…” You murmured, hand sliding into his as he led you out onto the makeshift dancefloor.

Steve faced you, strong hand settling on your waist, the other still wrapped around yours. There was only one song it could be, of course. His favorite of the songs you had shown him thus far. He spun you around, face hovering just behind your ear, where he pressed a tender kiss before spinning you back around to face him.

“Even if we’d met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war…”

“You still would have been mine, we would have been timeless…” You sang softly, meeting his eyes, the smile on your face matching his own. It was like Taylor had plucked the lyrics from your very heart.

“I think we kind of are.” He said, head nuzzled to yours, still swaying along to the song.

“Yeah, I think so too.” You replied.

When the song was over, Steve leaned in and asked, “Can I give you your presents now?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded.

He led you out of the room and down the hall to one of the conference rooms, where he’d stashed them earlier. There were four things waiting there. A medium box, a tiny box, and two easels covered with sheets.

He turned a chair around and motioned for you to sit, so you did. He handed you the bigger box first, and the infamous clinking sound gave it away before you could even get the wrapping paper off.

“Oh I think I know what this is.”

“I thought you might say that.” He chuckled. “I didn’t know if you had this one or not. I kept the receipt just in case…”

You tore the paper off to reveal a Lego set. It was Van Gogh’s Starry Night. “I don’t have this one yet. And I cannot wait to build it with you.”

“That makes two of us, doll.” He kissed your cheek, handing you the next present, the smaller one.

You tore the paper off to reveal a small velvet box. You gently lifted the lid and inside, there was a set of star earrings and a simple silver band. An eternity band, if you weren’t mistaken. Not an engagement ring, but it was a common gift for soulmates to give once they found each other, especially after they’d spent some time together.

“Oh, Steve…” You murmured, tears in your eyes. “They’re beautiful.”

“Can I?” He asked, kneeling down beside you and reaching for the ring.

“Yeah, of course.” You held out your hand and let him slide the band onto your finger. How he’d gotten your size, you didn’t know, but it fit perfectly.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this since 1943.” He confessed, hands lingering around your own.

“It’s still so crazy to me.” You sighed, shaking your head. You met his eyes. “You were in love with me before I even existed, before my parents were even born.”

“I know.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek, another to the corner of your lips. “When I woke up after the ice, I…I was lonely for a while. I spent a lot of days alone, learning, trying to figure out the new world I’d found myself in. I was kind of bitter. I didn’t know why it had happened to me…until I found you in the mall that day. And then I knew it wasn’t some accident. What happened to me was fate. You’re my destiny. Everything that happened led me straight to you and it was all worth it.”

“You can’t keep doing this to me.” You sighed, fingers intertwining with his.

“Doing what?”

You leaned your forehead against his, whispering, “Making me fall more in love with you.”

“No promises.” He laughed, kissing your lips and pulling you to your feet. “On my twenty-fifth, you said you didn’t know I was an artist and I promised I’d show you sometime.”

He pulled the sheet off of the first painting. It was you, glowing a brilliant blue, streaks of energy emanating from you like you were a star. Your eyes glowed, hair blew in the breeze. Behind you was a bright waypoint and zipping through the air was his shield, all of it captured in breathtaking oil painting. You wondered how long it had taken.

“This is so beautiful, Steve.” You rested your head against him, arm wrapped around his waist. “You made me look like a freaking goddess.”

“Well now you know how I see you.” He reached for the sheet covering the second painting, a little more careful with this one due to the age of it alone. “You might recognize this one.”

It was the painting from the antique shop, the soulmates dancing in Val’s. Now, with your new knowledge, you recognized them immediately. It was you and Steve. Always had been. Tears slipped down your cheeks and your hand covered your mouth, muffling your sobs. There was a time when you were afraid no one would ever love you as much as the blond-haired man loved the girl he was dancing with and it had been you all along.

But that little blond guy had painted it for you, not knowing whether or not you would ever get to see it.

You turned to Steve, standing on your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders, head resting against his strong frame as you cried.

“I never stopped looking. Never.” Steve said, voice getting emotional. “Every base I went to, I met every nurse. At every coffee shop, I studied every college student in case you were there doing homework. Every time I went to the theater, I was scanning faces for yours. It became habit, looking for you. I…”

“You found me.” You said, pulling away to see his face. You brushed his tears away with a gentle thumb. “You found me, Steve.”

He surged forward, kissing you deeply, with a century of passion behind his lips. Your hand wandered into his soft blond hair, the other settling against his firm chest. His hands caressed your body, memorizing every curve and dip, lips chasing yours through every slight movement. And after, he pressed a dozen kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. You giggled, finally catching his lips again.

Your breaths were heavy when he finally pulled away; his, too. You straightened out the fabric of his dress shirt, pulling him back down for one last kiss. Then another. Then, really, one last one.

“I love you, Steve Rogers. Now, then, and always.”

“Now, then, and always.” He murmured, kissing you again.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up before returning to the rest of the party. You blew out your candles and made your wish, for an eternity side by side with him, that wherever life took the two of you, it took you there together.

You had a slice of cake and some ice cream, sitting on the couch next to Steve, legs draped over his. He used his thumb to dab a little frosting onto the tip of your nose. You smeared frosting across his cheek with yours, which made him laugh.

After, there was one last song before most of the guests would be headed home for the night. As soon as the instrumental kicked in, you got emotional. It had been your last song with Steve the night before, a song that had been written about those going off to war, their futures as uncertain as the stars were numerous.

For Steve, it held a different meaning. He’d known then that his time with you was running out. He had no idea when he’d see you again, just that it would be a long time and that the version of you he met wouldn’t even know him yet, that it might be years before he got to kiss you again.

And so, the two of you danced as you had the night before, on Steve’s twenty-fifth and on yours, your face tucked against his, his arms wrapped tight around you as you swayed gently to the music.

“We’ll meet again. Don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…”

Tags: @cap-lu20

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #mcu #soulmate au #steve rogers soulmate au #the avengers

[loomontoia]

Some doodle dump

#with clint #and nat of course #digital art #marvel #mcu fanart #fanart #black widow #natasha romanoff #mcu #hawkeye #soft clint barton #doodles #they are platonic soulmates #hawkwidow apartment au #widowhawk #marvel comics #not a shipp post but #clintasha

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

marvel soulmate series ✨

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (slow buuuuuurn)

Summary: Life threw you a curve ball when you walked in on  your long term  boyfriend making out with someone who definitely wasn’t  you. Since  living with him was no longer an option, you’ve ventured out  at the  advice of a work friend and found the absolute perfect loft to  reside  in. The only issue?

You suddenly have four very odd roommates. 

[00]: Welcome Home

[01]: Rebound Sex

[02]: Mismatched

[03]: Back Up Plan

[04]: Be Nice

MARVEL ONESHOTS

Sharing is Caring [Bucky Barnes x Reader] [1,262 words]

Fate is Definitely Drunk

[Steve Rogers x Reader]

Summary: Everyone has the words their soulmate will first say to them written on their skin somewhere. You have the most average words in the known universe so you assume you’ll have a soulmate that matches that. Fate ain’t happy you underestimated her.

[one] [two] [three]

The Asgardian Way

[Thor Odinson x Reader]

Summary: When a human hits puberty they get the name of their soulmate written on their wrist. You got the name of a mythological figure and assumed it meant his parents were real big fans of Norse legend. Then aliens fell out of the sky and everything changed.

Interwoven, but Tangled

[Sam Wilson x Reader]

Summary: The red string of fate connects the pinky of one soulmate to the pinky of the other. Not everyone can see them, but since you had this rare gift you figured it was your duty to make sure as many soulmates found each other. At the very least, you could make sure your friends found their special person. What happens when your best friend’s boyfriend isn’t her soulmate though?

[one] [two]

The Color of Blood

[Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

[one] [two] [three] [four]

Stolen

[Tony Stark x Reader]

Summary: You were an imposter. You were desperate. You were trapped with no other way out. The fact of the matter was, you hadn’t been born with words on your skin, but now you were wearing the words of a dead girl. How far would you go to save someone you loved?

[one] [two] [three]

#marvel #mcu #tony stark x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson x reader #thor odinson x reader #steve rogers x reader #soulmate au

[americas-ass-writing]

Written in the stars

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life. Or does it lead you where you're meant to be?

Warnings: none? Stan Lee cameo maybe, me sucking at writing dialogue

A/N: This was written for @lunarbuck Soulmate Au Writing Challenge! I had the prompt "You and your soulmate share matching tattoos." I hope you enjoy it!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Gif by me

The sound of rain against your window is the first thing you register as you wake up. The sounds of your street in New York slowly adding themselves in. You let out a yawn and stretch. These were the best days. Waking up to the rain serenading you on your day off. You have nowhere to be, no plans, just a day for yourself. So you lay in bed a bit longer, just listening to the sounds.

Once you get up, you start your day. A nice warm shower, comfy clothes and breakfast with your favourite tea. Your phone dings with the daily reminder of your best friend to leave your apartment today so you'd have a chance finding your soulmate. You roll your eyes. She found hers in high school - lucky bitch. The matching tattoo of a weird shaped heart, that to you looked more like a bean, on her ankle sealed her fait to the high school jock. You were scared for her at first but he turned out to be the best partner she could ever have wished for. You on the other hand weren't so lucky. The little star constellation on your shoulder blade hasn't met it's match yet and you weren't sure if it ever would. With a sigh you put down your mug and text her back, promising you'd leave the house if the rain stopped.

The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life.

Steve was always good at hiding his soulmate mark. Back in the 40s when he was sickly he partially did it because dressing warm enough prevented him from getting sick and to protect whatever dame had the matching mark on her shoulder from having him as soulmate. As soon as he became Captain America he solely did it so no one would lead him on by pretending to be his soulmate. He was glad his soulmark was on his shoulder blade, easy to hide under the shirts he wore. Even though he was hiding it he couldn't help the disappointment that in all his years on this planet he hasn't even had a slightest tickle of the feeling of his soulmate being close to him.

But then his years of hiding were ruined by a very public mission. He was doing his best to lead his team and make sure they were all safe. He was in his element until a Hydra agent attacked him with a knife. This happened way too often these days and every time Howard Stark's voice mocks him in his mind. "Hydra won't attack you with pocket knives." Yeah right.

Steve was quick to react and instead of stabbing him in his shoulder all the attacker did was rip open his suit. This shouldn't happen this easily, maybe it wasn't a common pocket knife and Howard was right after all. Steve knocked him to the floor and made sure the man was unconscious. He didn't even think twice about the rip in his suit before he went back to the mission. He should have... He should have took a damn second to check then he wouldn't be stuck in the Tower.

The rip exposed his soulmark. And of course some onlooker took a picture that spread like wildfire on the internet. Promptly the Tower was overrun by people claiming they're his soulmate. His morning runs through central park were turning into him being hunted down by them too.

When the first woman came he had hope. He really thought that maybe, just maybe the stupid mistake would bring him his soulmate but the feeling never came... Nothing ever snapped into place. He didn't have the feeling.

His soulmark soon graced the shoulder blades of thousands of people like some stupid fashion accessory which caused him to swear off his soulmate and accepted a life of being alone. He just hoped that this hype around his mark would soon die down.

His fists hit the punching bag in front of him hard. The bag swinging back and forth wildly as he tried to let his pent up anger out. His usual sparring partners tapped out a few days ago since he got too cruel during it, not pulling his punches anymore. He understood, he didn't want to hurt them but he couldn't help himself but be disappointed. Those social interactions flew out the window too which didn't help him with feeling so alone.

"We gotta get him out of the tower... He's been cooped up for two weeks now." Natasha mumured to the fellow assassin next to her as they both watched their friend. "Sam and me tried... Either we get overrun immediately or he refuses to leave the tower." Bucky answered, his arms crossed. He felt for his friend, he deserves to find his soulmate and live happily ever after with them. "Maybe we can fly him out to Clint's farm?" He added only to be met with a snort of the redhead next to him. "Yeah he'd love that. Clint would make him take care of the chickens. Imagine all the pictures of him and Cap Jr." She smirked at the image of Steve holding up his chicken counterpart in several pictures.

Just as Bucky was about to answer their little conversation got interrupted by the bag hitting the floor and Steve marching or rather stomping off to get a new one.

"I have a plan to buy you guys some time" the redhead said after a moment of silence and beckoned her friend to follow her.

Picking at his cap and the borrowed clothes, Steve sends Nat a sceptical look. "This isn't going to work..." He sighs and sits down. His face falls into the palms of his hands. Soon enough there are soft strokes on his back. "Yes it will work. You just gotta be positive for once, Rogers" she says with an encouraging smile. "Sam and Bucky are currently distracting the masses, making them fill out forms so you can find your soulmate. All you gotta do is take the back exit and vanish into the crowds. It's a simple mission." Nat ever the optimist. There was so many things that could go wrong with this plan. Steve lifts a sceptical eyebrow at her.

"Look it's either this or Bucky's plan that involves a horrible granny dress and a wig. So choose your poison, Cap" she smirks at his furrowed eyebrows and claps on his shoulder. "That's what I thought. Let's get you out of here." With a smile she beckons him to follow her. They walk through the hallways and take the stairs down to the lobby. Instead of taking the usual door Natasha leads him around the corner and through some storage rooms before they stop in front of a door.

"Alright, sunglasses on. I texted you the code to get back into this door but I expect you to not use it before lunchtime." Like a mother scolding her child she points a finger at him. "The door leads to the back alley. The security guard has been informed that you'd take this way so no need to worry. Just make a swift exit from the alley into the crowds. Keep your head down, cap and sunglasses on, ok?" Steve nods at that and hugs her. "Thank you" he whispers and before she can answer he slips out of the door.

He nods to Stan the security guard, a nice old man that he often talked about art with, and slips out of the alley into the masses. To his surprise everyone's minding their own business and soon he's a block away from the tower. His shoulders relax and he lets out a breath. The rain probably helped him stay unrecognised.

Much to your dismay the rain stops after a few hours and you have to keep your promise. You sigh and get dressed to leave your apartment. Maybe a coffee in the park wouldn't be so bad. The park near your apartment always was empty on rainy days, except for a few people walking their dogs. So you could still enjoy your day without too many people around you. Once you're all dressed you grab your bag and an umbrella, just to be safe, before you leave. Your feet carry you to the little cafe at the end of your street. You weren't surprised with how busy it was. People would come here to escape the cloudy skies, to study, to meet others or to simply just get coffee. You weren't bothered by the masses though since it was your plan all along to get your order to go and sit in the park.

With your drink and snack in hand you enter the park a little while later. It wasn't big but still beautiful. You make your way to your favorite spot, a little bridge over the lake that housed two benches. It was a quiet and beautiful spot and you're were sure no one would hog the benches today. Well you were wrong. As you approach you see one of the benches taken by a tall stranger with a sketchpad. He seemed relaxed as his hand moved the pencil over the paper. His cap and hunched over form hid his face from your view but you didn't mind. Something inside you told you he was safe and even pulled you a bit closer to him. It's a weird feeling but you chalk it off to the two of you just doing the same thing - trying to enjoy the silence in the park.

You sit down on the bench across from him and take in the nature. You don't even notice his surprised face when he looks up and sees someone across from him. Or when he absent mindly scratches his shoulder. Or when his lips pull into a small smile at the added person in his sketch. You sit in silence for a while, trying to ignore your itchy shoulder, occasionally stealing a glance of the handsome stranger until he stands up and approaches you. Your heart beats faster as you look up at him. Why was he approaching you? Was he not the nice strange...

"Here..." He holds out a piece of paper to you with a soft smile on his face. Fuck even his voice was handsome. You hesitate for a second before you softly take it from him, which just makes his smile grow wider. Your eyes land on his sketch of the park... the lake, the trees, the flowers and you... You on the bench with your drink in hand, smiling as you take in the nature. It's breathtakingly beautiful. Your surprised eyes find his and you're met by a bashful smile. "I uh... It's a thank you..." He scratches his neck, his face blushing as he tries to avoid your eyes. "A thank you?" You ask confused, the small itch in your shoulder growing. You look up at him. Why would he thank you for sitting across from him?

"Yeah... The last week's... Have been crazy and you're the first person who treats me... normal?" He fumbles with his hands as your confusion just grows, brows knitted together. "My soulmark was released to the public after a mission and so many people got it as a tattoo and they hunted me down on my jogs and they waited for me everywhere and I was stuck in the tower and my friends wouldn't even spar with me and I felt so alone and when I was finally able to sneak out and spend some time outside you didn't even lift an eyebrow at Captain America sitting across from you so thank you" he rambles and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You didn't even recognize him. Not in casual clothes that seem a bit too big for him. He nervously fumbles with his hands again at your silence. "I..." "See I even signed it. If you don't want to keep it you can sell it" as he tries to point out his signature he grazes your hand with his fingers and both of you wince. The blinding pain in your shoulder was gone within a second but it was replaced with warmth. As your eyes meet his you realize it wasn't just you who feels it. His hand is still on his shoulder as he looks at you with wide eyes and his beautiful lips apart.

"Please tell me you felt that too..." He whispers, his voice almost breaking. You nod as answer and continue to stare at him. He lets his hand fall and gets on his knees in front of you, his eyes stare in yours so desperate you want to wrap him up in a hug and blanket and protect him from the world.

"I didn't even recognize you" is all you bring out and he laughs. A beautiful melodic laugh as his hands softly grab your free one. Thousands of little butterflies spread in your body, the tingly sensation wandering through you until it reaches your soulmark. "I'm pretty sure you have a little constellation of stars on your shoulder" the blonde still kneeling in front of you says with a smile that's brighter than the sun. You chuckle and bite your lower lip. "What makes you think so?" You tease. He licks his lips and squeezes your hand softly. "Because I have the same" he whispers as if it's a secret for just the two of you and maybe just maybe it would be if he would have used his brain a few weeks back.

You stare at each other for a while longer till the rain starts again. "Shoot! I have a cap you can wear uh..." The Adonis in front of you gets up and hurries over to his bench to get his things. You chuckle as he comes back and pull out your umbrella. "We can just share this and sit for a while longer" you suggest as you open it. He stops for a second but then smiles easily as he plops down next to you and offers to hold it.

You spend the afternoon talking, smiling and laughing. The conversation flowed easy and Steve even gave you a peek at his mark which was to no one's surprise the one you have too. Thus followed a lot of star related jokes from Steve. You laughed at every adorable pun and that seemed to spur him on even more. His eyes shining brighter with every laugh or giggle you gifted him, almost like the star littered night sky was trapped in them.

When the sun started to set Steve walked you home. He insisted that he did so because he wanted to make sure you're safe. You agreed, that was obviously the reason. Not the two of you wanting to spend more time together. And him holding your hand obviously was for keeping you safe too. And the kiss that you pressed on his lips when you arrived was definitely just a thank you. And the promise to see each other again after exchanging numbers was just part of your extensive security plan.

Steve slips into the tower through the door in the alleyway. He smiles at Stan before he takes the stairs, two steps at a time. He has never felt this happy and carefree before. He found his soulmate and you were the most beautiful and kind and amazing human being he knows. As he enters the common area he finds Bucky and Sam in front of a stack of paper and Natasha enjoying their aggregation.

"What's going on here?" Steve asks, his left eyebrow lifted. He grabs some water from the fridge and walks over to his friends. "It's all the soulmate applications that were filled out. We're going through them to see if maybe one of them is actually your soulmate." Sam explains and holds up one of the filled out forms. Steve smile widens. "But most of them are so obnoxious. Like this one" Bucky holds up another form. "I'm meant to be yours even if I had to get the soulmark tattooed." He reads, his frown deepening. Steve just laughs and takes the stack in front of his friends. He throws the stack in the recycling bin, much to the outrage of Bucky and Sam. He takes a sip from his water before the smile finds his lips again. "Well... Thank you for doing all this work but it was unnecessary. I found her and she's pretty amazing." His smile widens at the shocked faces of his friends.

"Excuse me, what?! You walk in here like nothing happened and then out of nowhere drop that bomb on us?!" Sam cries out. Steve chuckles which just seems to anger his friends even more. "Oh I'll hand your ass to you in tomorrow's sparring session!" Bucky promises as Steve skillfully avoids him. Finally Natasha just gets up and hugs him. "I'm happy for you. You deserve it, Cap." She says sincerely. "I hope you know that I'm doing a background check on her." Steve chuckles but hugs her back. "And that you're gonna break poor Clint's heart by not visiting him on his farm." Steve's laugh turns into a snort. "You mean I'm making him really happy because he now has an excuse to buy a new chicken? Can't have Cap Jr. without his soulmate. And I'm pretty sure she'll love the chicken once I take her for a visit." Natasha smiles fondly before she punches his shoulder slightly and leaves him to Sam and Bucky's complaining and investigations.

#captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #mcu #mcu x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #soulmate au

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

It's Hard to Dance With the Devil on Your Back [Soulmates AU]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Soulmates AU Alternate Universe 1. A story set in a world where everyone has a soulmate, and something to indicate to them who their soulmate is and when they meet them. "You live in a world where soulmates are connected by their injuries - a new scar appearing wherever your soulmate has one. So why is your soulmate so hell-bent on getting injured?."

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Reader pronouns/gender not mentioned. Description of blood, implied that the reader was getting mugged just before the story starts. 

A/N: So in this AU, you and your soulmate share scars. With Matty, we know it's a lot. I tried to be as vague as possible about how the scars show up on the reader's skin in order to be inclusive, but if you have any suggestions for edits of how I could better describe things to make sure I'm being inclusive for readers of all skin types/tones, please DM me! I'm totally open to that feedback and making those changes!

WC: 550

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

There was blood on your hands. Crimson and sticky; and fortunately (or unfortunately, you weren't sure which) not yours.

Your savior hunched over, a shadow in the already dark alleyway, gripping onto his side as the wound you were trying to help him suture gushed all over your hands.

Three unconscious bodies were around you; would-be muggers beat to a pulp with acrobatic-like precision. He saved at least your wallet and your sense of safety in this city, if not your life. 

You’d heard of his reputation around town – The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen – and now were face to face with the man himself. 

“Come with me, my place isn’t far.” you offered. It was the least you could do.

He was too woozy and injured to resist, using your body as a makeshift crutch as he hobbled down the street beside you.

Manhattan rent is stupid expensive, so you shuffled around him in your miniscule bathroom while he sat on the lip of your bathtub, still breathing heavily. You mentally cursed yourself for not having a better stocked first aid kit. 

Reluctantly, he let you remove the mask. His hazel eyes darted at nothing as you drank in the identity of your rescuer.

You had a million questions, mostly about how a blind man spends his nights expertly beating up criminals, but you saved them for later, too preoccupied with the gash crossing his left ribs.

“Your soulmate is gonna have a hell of a time with this one.” you commented as you poked and prodded at the wound, pushing aside the shredded black fabric still covering most of his torso.

“My soulmate is probably used to it by now.” he replied, removing the useless shirt so you could work on his injury, exposing his entire torso to you.

A flash of heat washed over your whole body at the sight before you and the realization it brought on, starting at your head and finishing at your feet like a bathtub draining quickly.

His body was littered with the evidence of what he does every night, what he’s been doing for years. You had a good idea of when he started.

“What? What is it?” he asked, head tilting in concern, reacting to a gasp you hadn’t realized escaped you.

You took his hand, guiding it under the fabric of your shirt and traced his fingers along the skin of your stomach. The scar had faded over the years, but still remained raised and bumpy. It appeared there several years ago.

He licked at his pouty lips, brows furrowed as he ran his calloused fingers over your flesh.

You guided his touch to another, across your collarbone, still as red and jagged as the day it appeared.

And then he knew.

“You – you’re my…”

“Yeah.”

There was so much he wanted to explain to you, but he knew there would be plenty of time. Instead, he pointed to his left knee, curious about what was on his skin under the dark fabric of his pants. You chuckled.

“I fell off my bike when I was nine. Guess it’s not as exciting as the stories you can tell about yours.”

“No, but I’d like to tell them to you, if you'd let me.”

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #charlie cox #nmcu fic #mcu fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil imagine #soulmate au #tropes de sept #trope

[sunnysideprincess]

"-said he don't negotiate with terrorists." "Well, lets send the boy back in a casket. Maybe he'll care then."

The boy, eight years old and soon to be nine, scuttles fast from the door and hits the dusty, moldy mattress. He chokes his own hiccups under his palm and fights tears like his father always asks him to. He waits, impatiently, patiently-he cannot decide-for the door to open.

It doesn't.

The men pass by his prison and the boy breaks into dry, heaving sobs.

Stark men are made of iron, he whispers in between his broken gasps and then again just to make the phrase stick. He falls asleep still chanting it. But dreams of his mother's gentle fingers combing through his hair.

Bucky wakes up and slams down on the floor, his hind numb from the cold and hand still wrapped up in bandages.

"Bucky?"

"Go back to sleep," he tells little Stevie, who has gotten the worst case of sniffles. Bucky's maa says it would be a miracle if he lasts through his winter. But she was smiling when she said it, sorta hopeful and she does still believe in a god.

Bucky doesn't. He has seen enough on the streets to know God doesn't turn around in this corner.

Stevie grumbles but turns in the bed. The bed, because Bucky gets the springy rickety cot.

It hurts his back.

But little Stevie needs his rest more.

It isn't until he's shifting his sheet again that it hits him. The dream was not a dream at all.

It was his first vision.

A sneak peek into his soulmate's life.

#discarded wip anyone? #winteriron #soulmates au #deb writes in between #tony stark #bucky barnes #mcu #buckytony #starbucks #tonybucky #james buchanan barnes

[barnesafterglow]

no other shade of blue

summary: your life is nothing but pure cold, until the day they pull steve rogers out of the ice

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: soulmate au, fluff, not-quite angst??, shield still can't handle their shit but maria hill sure can, maria x natasha till i die, the overwhelming potential for a part 2

a/n: so i ironically started this on the fourth of july, and decided roughly 24 hours ago that i was going to finish it so. here it is.

masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on when i post 🤍

The first memory you had was of a bitter cold. Before happy memories in a sprawling backyard and cartoon band aids on a scraped knee, there was the brutal chill that seeped into your bones, into every inch of your being.

Though your own memory didn’t serve you, the first moment your mother had with you was much the same - a baby girl laid on her bare chest, only to flinch at the feeling of ice on her skin.

You spent countless years being poked and prodded, every medical test at the disposal of your doctors, and then specialists, and then scientific journals, and an answer was never found. In every other sense of your wellbeing, you were fine. Your organs worked, and there was never any danger of losing your extremities, so they stopped looking for answers and told you to move on.

Eventually, you were resigned to sweaters even at the height of summer, and whispered prayers that your soulmate didn’t have to endure the same icy existence.

You learned to live with it, and your friends learned to keep their distance at sleepovers and movie nights, and boyfriends and girlfriends alike never stuck around for long. It was hard to love someone who only offered cold hands instead of a warm heart.

For all it deterred your love life, the cold had no effect on your studies, and you excelled in the sciences, graduating with honors and securing a job at SHIELD just weeks after you got your degree.

You were puttering around your corner of the lab, pulling your sweater tighter around you despite the warmth of summer in Manhattan outside the floor to ceiling windows, when Maria Hill entered through the sliding glass doors, as frazzled as you had ever seen her.

“You’re going to want to see this,” is all she said before she turned on her heel and headed for the elevator. You managed to slide in just as the doors closed, more than a little bewildered at her behavior. You knew SHIELD and their plethora of secrets, but there were few things that were wrapped up so tight that they couldn’t even be spoken about in the safety of your lab.

“Male, approximately 27 years old, possibility of severe hypothermia but… we really don’t know.” Her voice was hushed, like she couldn’t bear to admit that they didn’t know.

“I’m not a medical doctor, Maria. A PhD doesn’t mean I can see patients, no matter who or what they are.” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as the elevator descended far below street level. It was going to be one of those days. “Why are you coming to me about this?”

“We don’t need you as a doctor, we need you as a scientist. He’s been frozen in ice for almost 60 years. We have no idea what to expect when he wakes up. If he wakes up.” She reached over to squeeze your arm, your best friend shining through the facade of your Deputy Director, for just a moment. “It’s Steve Rogers.”

Your jaw dropped, but you weren’t able to formulate a response before the elevator doors slid open, and the immediate bustle of SHIELD agents stole any comment you may have had. She released her grip on you and straightened up, leading you through the winding maze of SHIELD’s underground headquarters, before stopping at a steel door with more security than you had ever seen.

Maria nodded at the two junior agents, putting her hand to the biometric scanner as soon as they stepped aside, and you followed her inside, proud of yourself for barely flinching as the heavy metal slid to a close behind you.

The first thing you noticed was the fact that you could see your breath in the air, which was odd considering the room felt no different in temperature than the one you had just come from, then you followed her gaze to the center of the room.

It was, without any other way to describe it, a huge block of ice. It didn’t necessarily look out of the ordinary, but even from across the room, you could see the lines of distorted red, white, and blue peaking through. And there, as you finally got the courage to step closer, was the unmistakable face of Captain America.

You got the strangest urge, then, to reach out and touch his partially covered face, to see if his frozen temperature rivaled your own, when someone cleared their throat, and you looked up to see a handful of people watching you curiously.

Embarrassed, you stepped back into place beside Maria and waited for further instruction.

After that it’s… a bit of a blur. There were a flurry of more senior scientists than you, and you wondered again Maria needed you there when her team was more than capable. You more or less stood in the corner and watched with your best friend as they took what looked like glorified hair dryers and began melting away Captain America’s icy tomb.

Once the block had melted away and he laid there in his battered stars and stripes, he was hooked up to more machines than you knew their purpose. The only one you could focus on was the heart monitor directly in front of you.

It was a daunting flat line, a slow, steady beep, no indicator of any sign of life. It was a long shot, you all knew that - even you, so out of the loop but kept in the room anyways. He had been at the bottom of the Atlantic for 66 years, and only the grace of god or Abraham Erskine could save him now.

Maria, who always knew more than she ever let on, motioned you towards his side, and you almost gave into your earlier impulse to brush your fingertips against the stark blue of his lips when the monitor changed. A small blip, but enough for a flurry of activity to cascade through the room, and you were pushed right back into the corner where you had been for what felt like hours.

It wasn’t until the monitor was beating in a steady rhythm and Maria finally ushered you back to the upper levels that you realized you weren’t quite so cold anymore.

–

It had been two days since Steve Rogers came out of the ice, and you had steadily felt your body temperature rising. It was odd, feeling warm - like an actual human, because that typically only came with copious amounts of alcohol and a heated blanket.

You hadn’t heard any more news about him, besides the hope they had to slowly acclimate him to the 21st century. Maria had been very tight lipped about the entire situation, and you had a feeling it was more than just the fact that it was a highly top secret SHIELD project, as they usually were.

But you couldn’t help the undeniable pull you had towards him, the sneaking suspicion that it was more than a scientific draw that had you almost desperate to see him, to know how he was progressing.

It was on the fourth day that you reach the average body temperature - something you had never before achieved in your life - which also happened to be the day SHIELD fucked up irreparably on their exposure of Steve to the new world.

Roughly an hour after they managed to draw him away from the streets of Manhattan and back to SHIELD, Maria appeared at your apartment door.

“You need to see him.”

“Why?” you asked, but you were already grabbing your shoes, following her out to the car still running at the curb.

She said nothing until she was behind the wheel, giving you a look somewhere between sympathy and excitement.

“I found out Natasha was my soulmate when we were sparring. She broke my nose - by accident, she swears - and felt it on her own. She kissed me right there, in front of junior agents and with blood streaming down my face.”

You remembered when she burst into your lab minutes later, blood still on her face and gripping Natasha’s hand; she was so excited to tell you.

“I know the story, Maria. Why are you telling me?”

“I’m just saying, meeting your soulmate isn’t always,” she paused, searching for the word, “conventional.”

It rarely was, when so many found their soulmate in the form of pain - spilling searing hot coffee on them and feeling the sting of the burn or a papercut when there was no way for you to get one, but your soulmate had.

There were, of course, cute meetings, like feeling the squeeze of a hug too tight or the pinch of a cheek from a grandmother, but it didn’t happen often. Soulmates didn’t happen very often.

You weren’t even sure if you believed in them; there was no science behind it. Nothing besides the words of love struck couples.

Which is why you were confused by Maria bringing it up. She knew your stance, even after seeing her relationship with Nat.

“I want you to meet Steve,” she said as you pulled into the garage at SHIELD.

You just looked at her, trying to keep your face blank, waiting for further explanation.

“I think he might be yours. Your soulmate, I mean. It makes sense, him being in the ice and you…” she gestured in your direction, “being cold.”

It sounded stupid, it sounded insane, but you trusted Maria’s judgement, and, if nothing else, you could at least say you tried.

-

When you met Steve, it was in a model SHIELD apartment - sleek and modern and nothing even close to a home - with Maria hovering by the door, waiting to save you if you said the word.

“Hi.” You weren’t sure if he knew why you were even here, so you just started with introducing yourself, telling him you worked for SHIELD.

“I know who you are.” He flushed a pretty pink across his face. “Well, I think I do, anyways.”

You felt your own face heat up and, praying he couldn’t tell, you stuck your arm out to shake his hand.

He must not have known his own strength; his grip on your hand was so tight you flinched a little, and he looked at his own hand in wonder.

“I… I felt that,” he said, sounding just as amazed as he looked. “So, it’s true?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t feel anything. Can I…?” He nodded and you deliberated for a moment before pinching him in the side. Well, you tried at least. The skin there was taunt, and your mouth watered a little at the thought of it.

Snapping yourself out of it, you realized you hadn’t felt anything, and your heart dropped. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes, should never have gotten in the car with Maria, shouldn’t-

“That didn’t hurt.”

“What?”

“It didn’t hurt. That was a baby pinch, you’ll have to do better.” The corner of his mouth turned up into something akin to a smirk, and you felt like you were being made fun of. “I’m not making fun of you, I swear.” Did you say that out loud? “It just takes more than that to hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Steve.”

“That’s kind of the whole point of this, sweetheart.” His face flushed red again - even more than before - at his slip of the tongue, but Maria saved you both.

By making her way over and punching Steve in the stomach. He curled over just a bit, and you felt a pressure - something like a punch - in your abdomen. When you looked back up at him, there were tears in your eyes. But not from the pain. No, this was pure joy at finding your soulmate.

It was then that you noticed the calm presence of him, it was as if he soothed every pain you had ever felt, like he was taking it all away. It was as if he were a balm to your very soul.

You were so entranced with each other that you didn’t notice Maria slowly making her way out of the room. All you could see was a deep sea of blue, staring at you with the same intensity you felt burrow into your chest.

You took a step closer to him, then two, three, until you were so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, and you knew he was doing the same to you.

Maybe it was too soon, but no one knew the magic of soulmates, the insatiable need to touch them, unless you were the one experiencing it. So when Steve dipped his head to kiss you, it just felt right.

There were no fireworks or sparks, no fanfare or an immediate need to act on any desires. There was only one word you could use to describe Steve Rogers.

Home.

#steve rogers #steve fic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #soulmate!steve rogers #soulmate au #mcu #marvel #tiff writes #no other shade of blue

[chaotic-good-hippie]

Recuérdame 

Pairing: Jack Russell (MCU) x FemReader (she/her) | SoulmateAU!

Summary: After losing his soulmate a little over a century ago, Jack has long forgotten about love, unable to move on. One night, in a nightclub, life gives him a second chance.

Warnings: Age gap (I mean, the man is 357 here), if you squint your eyes there are some sexual innuendos at the end, mentions of death, non-descriptive reader (but reader does drink tequila at some point)

Translations: Corazón (endearment term) - Heart | Mi vida - My life | Amor mío - My love | Querida - Dear | Por favor - Please | Te amo - I love you

Inspire by: "Recuérdame" cover by Natalia Lafourcade ft. Carlos Rivera

Tags: @littlenosoul | @bitchyglitterfox | @lilpunkrock | @kingtwhiddleston

«How terrible it’s to love something death can touch», especially if one is immune to it. Jack knew from the moment their eyes locked with each other's that he was bound to lose her eventually, that someday he’d have to watch her die, and there was nothing he— or anyone else— could do about it. He convinced himself he'll be prepared for it, let her go in peace when the time came. But heavens, did he underestimate how cruel destiny could be. 

She started coughing on Monday morning, and by Wednesday night, she was gone. Jack couldn’t understand how it all happened so fast and why life had been so vicious with them both. The doctor, the best money could pay, said it was just the flu and that she’ll recover in days without further problems; yet, Jack could feel her slipping through his fingers with each passing hour. The cough gave place to a burning fever that forced her to bed, and by the next morning, she had trouble breathing as she came in and out of consciousness. 

Desperate, he called every doctor, nurse, and healer in town and begged them to save his dear wife's life in exchange for whatever riches they desired. They tried everything their knowledge and skills allowed them to cure her and, at the very least, ameliorate the symptoms, but it was useless. He could see it in their faces, in the way they avoided certain words around him and their worried glances towards her. 

Wednesday afternoon, everyone was sent home at her request, leaving them all by themselves in the mansion they had shared for seven blissful years. Enveloped in the darkness of night, the halls and rooms felt cold and devoid of life, the only sign of their presence coming from their bedroom: The faint light of a candle. It stood up by her bedside table, lighting up her wan face as he sat on a chair next to it, his head resting on her abdomen. 

“I’m sorry.” Her voice came out as a breathy whisper as her tender fingers scratched behind his ear. “I’m terribly sorry, my love.” 

“Don’t be; it’s not your fault.” It took everything in him not to break down into a puddle of tears and a mess of sobs. “You’ve been nothing but good to me.” 

"Promise me you'll find another to keep you company." The request caught him off guard, his teary eyes turning to her in disbelief. "You're too pure for this world, my love. I'm afraid to leave you for all those terrors out there to feast upon you."

"Corazón, mi vida..." He took her hands between his to kiss her knuckles, his heart shattering into a million pieces inside his chest. He couldn't believe that even in her last moments, she was worried about him, the utter devotion and love she had for him. "I... I can't. I could never..." 

"Jack, please, please." How could he deny her anything when she looked at him with such profound despair? "I want... No, I need you to be happy. I'll always be with you, no matter what; whenever you may be, I'll follow... But you can't be on your own for who knows how long, my love. I don't want you to be alone."

"Alright." He kissed her chapped lips delicately as he nodded. "I promise I won't be alone; you don't have to worry about me no more, amor mío." 

"I love you." 

"I love you too. You're the most beautiful thing that could ever happen to me." 

He couldn't hold it anymore: a sob escaped from his lips as the first tear slid down his cheek. She was quick to dry it, and while he leaned against her palm with closed eyes, she softly stroked his hair. 

"There better be a sea of marigolds and tequila on the altar this November, or I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity." She tried joking in hopes of seeing his smile one last time. 

«Haunt me then! Be with me always— take any form— drive me mad! Only do not leave in this abyss, where I cannot find you!» Never had he understood Heathcliff's pain as much as he did then. Still, to avoid disturbing her further, he smiled and hugged her waist tighter. 

"Whatever you desire, querida." 

They remained silent after that, her loving touch and faint breath lulling him into sleep not long after. It was the rays of dawn that filtered through the closed curtains that woke him up hours later, the candle far extinguished. He didn't even need to look; her cold and stiff hands revealed that his greatest fear had come true. 

"Vuelve a mi, corazón. Por favor, por favor..." He'd never cried so hard in his entire life, his face pressed against her chest as he repetead as a chant: "Te amo, te amo, te amo..." 

Jack buried a part of himself with her, but the truth is, all he wanted was to end his misery and lay with her three feet underground. The first few weeks after the funeral, he found it impossible to get off their shared bed in an aching attempt to hold onto the lingering scent of her in the sheets. But when it vanished, along with all the remains of her presence in the mansion, he sold it and moved as far as he could. As for his promise, he couldn’t keep it; he couldn’t find it in himself to even look at any other, no matter how much time passed. He carried her deep in his chest, in that corner of his heart where he had built her a perpetual altar. 

Years, decades, and a whole century passed, but the sorrow never truly disappeared; he just learned to live with it. Still, if one is observant enough and looks at him closely, one would find an ever-present mourning in his eyes. 

In the darkness of this club, though— he thinks— you won't even be able to see your own shoes. 

Every year since he met him, Ted will drag him and a bunch of other monsters to this particular nightclub in his town for Halloween. It's the only night of the year in which they can easily blend in with the humans without fearing the hunters, and a dark, crowded club is an excellent place to hide in plain sight. Typically, Jack would never set foot in a place like that, but for his friend, he'd withstand all the noise for some hours. 

"Why is it that with every year, it gets stinkier in here?" Simon asks as they make their way to a table, the neon lights flashing them occasionally. 

She's right; it reeks of alcohol and sweat, but it isn't even that bad. Besides, something sweet and pleasant is hiding among the crowd, luring Jack deeper into the place; it's familiar and welcoming, but he can't identify why. 

"What is it, doggie?" Shiklah questions him after noticing his distracted demeanor, his eyes scanning the place. "Too much for an old wolf?" 

"No, it's just... Can't any of you smell that? There's a weird scent in here." 

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Satana mocks him, making the others laugh. 

As they sit and start catching up with each other, Jack finally identifies where he had smelled that aroma before, making his heart stop for a second. 

An interesting thing about humans (and monsters, too) is that each one possesses a unique scent, and while their noses cannot identify this, his canine nature allows him to easily make the distinction. This is why he believes to be hallucinating when his brain finally puts a name and face to the aroma currently invading his nostrils. He knows that scent to its core; it's embedded in his skin and memory like a scar, one he had pushed to the back of his mind long ago for survival. It lights something within him, a part of him he believed to have been buried in a faraway land beside the one and only woman he's ever loved. 

Jack jumps out of his seat, looking around him in confusion and longing. Whoever smells like that is getting closer, approaching their spot as he circles the table and tries to locate them. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry," He answers Ted, who asked him if he's alright as the others look at him baffled. "I just need to..." 

Distracted and blinded by the darkness, Jack bumped into a woman as he tried to excuse himself away from his friends, something spilling on his shirt. 

"Chin! I'm terribly sorry!" 

"Oh, no, don’t be; it’s not your fault!" The voice makes him freeze in his tracks, hands trembling. "I didn't see you there; it's too dark in here." 

His gaze slowly lifts from the dark floor to the face of the woman in front of him, her face slightly illuminated by neon blue light. Her eyes lock with his, the faintest sign of familiarity in them, and god was he convinced for a moment to have died. Before him, there's a ghost; literally, she's dressed up as one: flowy white dress and dark makeup. Even in the dim, he can recognize all the marks and lines he'd traced so many times with his fingers, the curve of the lips he'd kissed endless times, and the irises he woke up to for seven years in what seems like a lifetime ago. 

She looks just as when he first met her, her tone and movements are identical copies of hers, and she scents the exact fucking same. It drives him wild; it makes him hot and needy. He just wants to jump at her and hug her, smell her, kiss her, taste her... 

"Lucifer!" Shiklah's voice wakes him from his trance. "You are the walking portrait of..." He steps on her foot to shut her up, earning a yelp from her part. The others turn to check on her, allowing Jack to apologize without feeling their stares on them. 

"Damn it, I think I stained your shirt." she points to his chest, where a big wet spot lies: tequila, the smell tells him.

"It's nothing, really; I was distracted as well... Could I offer to buy you another?" 

"You know? There are better ways to approach a woman than spilling her drink, pretty boy." His cheeks immediately burn; heavens, did he miss her coquetry. 

"It worked, didn't it?" She laughs, a sound that crosses directly to his death-hollow heart and reanimates it from his century-long sleep.

"I usually don't accept drinks from strangers, but I think I could make an exception for you." 

"I'm Jack Russell, at your service, señorita." Slowly, he took her hand and kissed the back of it, his gaze fixed on hers. "And you are...?"

She gave him the same name his lips were used to pronounce as a prayer in another life, one his tongue rolled off with such naturalness it seemed tailored to it.  

"Not so much of a stranger now, eh? Now, how about that drink?" 

"The bar is over there." She pointed to his left. "Want me to lead you, Jack?" 

His heart fluttered as she looped her arm with his, guiding him across the floor with a seductive smile on her lips. 

#jack russell x reader #jack russell #jack russell x you #marvel #mcu #werewolf by night #gael garcia bernal #soulmate au

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

⬇ What I've Been Reading Recently! [In No Particular Order]⬇

Rivers and Roads (Rivers Till I Reach You) Series by peterparkersbff @pbpsbff

[Series Description and Notes] Zombie Apocalypse, No Powers AU centered on Peter, Tony, and Rhodey (But if we're being honest, it's pretty Peter-centric)

Updates will likely be posted out of order, but will be reordered so they are in preferred reading order. I'd recommend reading in series order.

Peter Benjamin Stark Series by MoonBoo

[Part 1, Stars Align Summary] Pepper is concerned about Stark Industry's image and organizes a tour for a group of orphans. It's during this tour that Tony meets a five-year-old Peter Parker, who is mute due to the trauma of witnessing Ben and May dying in a robbery, and realizes they're soulmates.

Time Brings All Things to Pass by MsWinifredQuale

Tony feels like he's in a good place right now. He's got a great fiancee, a makeshift but settled little family, and he's even in a fairly ok place with the former Rogues.

So naturally the universe decides to throw him some curve balls, when he gets a call one morning from the police claiming they've just picked up Howard and Maria Stark from the side of the road.

And that's not the only time-related event about to unfold.

Tony really hates time travel.

[Also includes de-aged Peter Parker]

Please obey the signs by Bergen

“This young man claims to have been invited by you personally.” Tony has learned to read Happy’s expressions. That one is disapproval, and it’s highly familiar. “Peter is helping me out in the workshop today.” “Why?” “Uh.” Tony has enough presence of mind not to carelessly throw Peter’s alternative identity around. “He won a competition.” Happy’s expression flickers, grows tense. “I did not approve any competition that included a trip to Avengers Tower.” “Okay. Well. If we had theoretically organized a competition, he would definitely have won it.” - Tony’s life lately has been a perfect storm of incompetence. But perhaps he can get some solid spiritual advice from a mischievous teenager with a secret identity he meets by the side of the road one evening, like a lucky little leprechaun. If only Happy would stop being so paranoid about Tony inviting a random kid into Avengers Tower, sheesh.

The Chill Factor by Tashie

5 Times Peter's thermoregulation caused issues +1 Time Others tried to do something about it.

Broken Thoughts (I Remember Everything) by blackwatchandromeda (avenris)

"Peter, who am I?"

He hesitates. "I'm sorry. I... I don't know."

Peter Parker has been missing for thirty-six days. When Tony Stark finally finds him, he's wandering around New York with no memories, unaware of where and who he is. The missing month is a mystery, and nobody knows what happened to him - least of all the kid himself.

Peter, meanwhile, is trying to piece together who he was. What doesn't help is the big secret he's sure Tony is keeping from him, or the way the man is avoiding him.

Nobody notices how the missing month is catching up to them until everything goes wrong.

(Not Infinity War compliant, but takes place after Civil War.)

When spiders tour their houses, chaos ensues by pirateninja9

"I am very pleased to announce that we’ve been invited for an overnight tour at Stark Industries.”

Join Peter and his Academic decathlon team on a chaotic field trip to the Stark Industries. Featuring a bullying teacher and student, a confused tour guide and many Avengers shenanigans. With luck like his, Peter should have known this would be as far from a normal tour as possible.

Mugs Are A Problem (I Do What I Want) by JAWorley

It’s not usually a problem. Tony doesn’t usually have to work so hard to hide it because Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey know. He can be himself around them. Right after the compound had been built, Tony had been worried about moving in with the Avengers full time… worried they’d notice his tics and figure out his secret. Then Germany had happened and the team had split up before they could fully move into the compound. Tony had had two years where he hadn’t needed to worry about it. Now that the Rogues are back and are living in the tower full time, it’s on his mind again and stressing him out. The problem? Coffee mugs. Well… coffee mugs, and other things and the fact that when he’s stressed out, the tics get worse. But mainly coffee mugs. Coffee mugs are the bane of his existence. OR Tony has Tourette Syndrome and he doesn’t want the Avengers (or Peter) to find out about it. The newly returned Avengers think Tony is just being a jerk when he knocks things off of tables and counters, because they think he’s doing it on purpose. Despite the angsty summary, this is all about the team coming back together and Tony learning that the people in his life can’t accept him as he is until given the chance to know him as he is.

#Irondad fic recs #irondad fic rec #marvel #marvel fic rec #peter parker #tony stark #spider-man #iron man #mcu #irondad and spiderson #irondad #marvel fanfiction #happy hogan #james rhodey rhodes #zombie apocolypse au #soulmate au #peter parker can't thermoregulate #tony stark has tourettes #tourettes #field trip trope #time travel #de-aged peter parker #kid peter parker #peter parker is a little shit

[sleepingdeath-light]

finding out his soulmate is depressed hcs ; loki

requested by ; anonymous (19/05/22)

fandom(s) ; marvel cinematic universe / mcu

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; loki laufeyson

outline ; “request: i'm desperate for a soulmate au. it doesn't make if it's between loki or wanda because i love them both but i'd love your take on the soulmate au. it'd be cool if the reader had depression, cause same. thank you!”

note ; this is going off of the au where there is a ‘red string’ connecting people and is based on the avenger!loki concept

additional note ; the references to the reader’s depression are extremely brief but present

warning(s) ; canon typical references to violence and angst

loki spent the vast majority of his life thinking that he was damned — the only person in asgard to be without a soulmate

wishing, praying, reading up on anything and everything he could just to scrape together some tiny crumb of hope that one day his string would manifest

that he wasn’t truly alone

a thousand years passed him by

then two

then three

by his fourth he’d started to lose hope and as he started to fast approach his fifth he’d given up all together

the black sheep of his family; unworthy even in the eyes of the universe

it was like some sort of sick joke

but he never told a soul, lying through his teeth as naturally as he breathed and telling tall tales of his golden string and how he was waiting for the right moment to pursue his soulmate

but they didn’t exist

and it hurt more than he’d ever let show

until one day, a quarter century shy of his five thousandth year, he awoke to find a golden string wound tightly around his ring finger — precisely where one might put a wedding band

he shook of the drowsiness and bleariness of sleep in seconds, inspecting the deceptively fragile twine with rapt interest

flicking, tugging, strumming and winding it tighter and tighter — spooling it between his fingers curiously as it continued onwards into the distance without effort or strain

always having the same amount of tautness to it no matter how hard or how far he pulled

gold spun as thin as spider silk yet, as present to the world as a light breeze yet as heavy and palpable as traditional battle regalia as he brushed his fingertip along its surface

tangibly intangible, paradoxically present and yet not so, visible and invisible

exactly as the old stories had told — and there, in the distance somewhere, was his fated other half on the unseeable other end of the string

loki wanted nothing more than to meet you, but he knew well enough that the string’s late appearance meant that he still had a long while to wait — so, instead, he busied himself with his usual routine

messing with his brother, studying with his mother and proving his worth as an heir to asgard to his father

… and i’m sure that we don’t need to explain what happened in the interim so let’s skip forwards until after the 2012 incident…

the last thing he wanted was to spend his sentence waiting on a bunch of mortals — confined to a small space filled with creatures that despised him and that were far below him in every way

and he did very little to hide his disdain for the situation — which was mirrored by his ‘landlord’, stark, who also made it very well known that he didn’t want ‘reindeer games’ living in his tower

loki, in return, went to let out another sarcastic remark about the man’s ignorance before he caught sight of the very thing he’d been ignoring for the better part of a year and the words died on his throat

leaving him completely speechless for the first time since anyone had seen him after his attempt to take his own life back in asgard

after millennia of feeling so terribly alone he could see the other end of his string and it was attached to… well… you

a mortal who looked terribly detached from their surroundings, just carrying out some standard busywork in the background of his custody announcement like it was nothing at all

if he hadn’t have been forced to wear those damned cuffs he’d have peered into your mind by now — but it didn’t take a psychic to see something in you that he had been trying to conceal in himself for a while

loki didn’t speak to you that day, nor did he get the chance for a good few months as your responsibilities kept you separated to different areas of the tower

he, as a (very unwilling) member of the avengers initiative, was forced to keep to the top few floors for training, briefing and other such things

and you, who he found to be a standard member of stark industries, tended to stay on the lower floors of the tower unless you were called upon by your boss

it was frustrating, to say the very least, but the separation gave loki the time to consider his next steps — and his situation as a whole

consider the fact that he’s destined to be with a mortal of all beings — consider the differences in experience, strength and life span

consider the fact that you likely fear or potentially even hate him for his actions against your home world — that you’d probably scorn or mock him because of his actions (and he’d deserve it, he lamented)

consider the fact that he saw part of himself in your eyes and that a mortal of all things might just be the one to understand him

consider how to approach you in the first place

in the end he just about manages to catch you as you’re walking out of a meeting with stark and some higher level agents of s.h.i.e.l.d — coughing and gesturing to the string between the two of you

for a moment you just stare at him, blinking and looking between his neutral expression and the golden string — before cracking something of an awkward smile and introducing yourself (which he returns with a kiss on the back of your hand)

and you’re too busy to stay for long, and he knows this, so he sends you on your way with the promise to meet again soon

but he also says something that sticks with you as you hurry off to your next meeting — for the rest of the day, in fact

‘i understand,’

a simple, unassuming phrase spoken so quietly and genuinely that you might have thought you’d dreamt it had it not been for the earnest look on his face when he spoke

(though even that disappeared a fraction of a second later)

the end of your brief exchange that left you questioning everything you were told about him

his tendency to isolate himself according to thor (and, later, observations from the other avengers)

his habit of lashing out when pressed on certain topics

his lack of appetite for the entirety of the time you (and most other humans) had known him

his apathy towards his own well-being and, well, what he’d done before ending up on earth which had been mentioned in whispers around the office

maybe you had more in common with your soulmate than you realised — but that could be discussed at your next meeting

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #soulmate au #fluff #fluff hcs #marvel fluff #mcu x reader #mcu fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki x reader

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under the Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

CW/TW: None (sorta?), Mentions of phantom pains, loneliness

A/N: This is gonna be multi-fic. I'll probably be irregular with uploads, but I will try to update this when I can!

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 1:

The Scholar

Fate was a funny thing. Sometimes it could give you exactly what you wanted, other times… the exact opposite. 

The same was true for soulmates. Everybody had a different way of being marked. Some, from birth, others later. You’ve had yours since the moment you came out of your mother’s womb.

Right there, on the inside of your left wrist.

Three crescent moons, the slope of each resting on the others. Sometimes, one of the moons was full. It rotated almost like a clock. Sometimes one would stay full for days, other times merely one day or just a few hours. You weren’t sure why. You were positive it had something to do with your soulmate. 

Especially the random phantom pains and bruises on different spots of your body. You used to get them as a child, one minute you’d be playing on the playground and then it would feel like you’d been whipped with a belt, or hit with a stick. At first children services had been called because of your phantom bruising; until they observed one such situation where you were coloring a picture and a red mark suddenly made itself visible, along with the pain associated with it. That was when the doctor suggested those pains were indeed connected to whatever was happening to your soulmate.

What kind of torture were they going through? The thought constantly ate at you as you grew up.

The worst ones were when you were at the stove cooking one day and all of a sudden–wham!--you were doubled over in your kitchen, clutching your body as you felt like you were being impaled by an ice pick in different parts of your chest and midsection.

But every time you got those pains, there was a pulse from your marking. And then… nothing. You heard that some people got phantom pains from their soulmates, some could share a telepathic link… others could simply sense when they were in proximity. The connections all varied from mate to mate; as did the appearance of each mark.

Yours, was the crescent moons. Some had animal shapes, others had stars, sometimes even just initials of their destined partner’s names, or a type of compass pointing in their general direction. Others, you came to envy, had a timer. Like a digital stopwatch that would count down until the day they met. You really wish you had one of those. At least then you’d know...

Some lucky people found their soulmates fresh into adulthood, right out of high school. The even luckier ones happened upon theirs during childhood and stayed close.

Here you were, sitting at nearly 25, and hadn’t even felt a tickle that possibly told you your soulmate was nearby. Even when you hopped countries! You really envied your classmates who got married shortly after high school or fresh into college, right about now… 

You hoped and prayed to whoever would listen–anybody–that you would find them soon; not when you were old and gray and couldn’t run on the beach, climb a tree, or go do… something with such little precious time left over. You waited every day, on bated breath for when your soulmate would swoop in and save you from your boring, monotonous life.

Unless you were rejected. You’d never personally met anybody who had been rejected, but you have read in online forums from people who *have* been rejected, or personally knew someone who had been. Their existences sounded horrible. Gray, bleak… they weren’t truly living, just… existing. Like a robot running on default mode.

Some found love outside their soulmate bonds, and married and lived happily enough. Those were the ones who didn’t actively look for their soulmates, couldn’t find their soulmates… or their soulmates died before they met.

The pain felt from a sudden snap of your bond was supposed to be the most debilitating pain in your life, your soul feeling like half of it was shredded, stomped on, and then set on fire before being snuffed out entirely. It was supposedly easier to bear if you and your soulmate have never met.

Which is why, after you recovered that day in your kitchen, you frantically checked your mark to see if it was still there. Thankfully, it was. But you cursed your soulmate–whoever she, he, or they were–for doing whatever crazy shenanigans it was that they were doing to get hurt in such a way. 

But despite that… despite the waiting and the longing and the phantom pains; the aching feeling in your chest, you stopped checking your mark as religiously as you used to. Sometimes, you covered it entirely, a depressing melancholy feeling taking root in your stomach and growing until its branches reached your heart whenever you looked at it. It wasn’t entirely uncommon, the feelings you were harboring. The desperation for your other half, the need to feel completed–to feel whole–was felt by millions worldwide… maybe even farther than that. 

Some suggested therapy. It was a common enough occurrence that there was a specialization in the psychiatric field for soulmates who felt the depression and loneliness of not having their soul’s other half with them. 

Malattia dell'anima, the doctor-y name for it was. Soul Sickness; literally.

But you didn’t want to be doped up on medication that made you so numb to your feelings that you might not–on the small chance you would–be able to feel when you eventually met your soulmate.

If you ever did.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

You sighed as you leaned on the counter, scrolling through forums, social media posts, and memes on your phone. Your mark was covered with a braided bracelet you made on a whim four months ago. Sometimes… not looking at it made it easier to bear.

You were knocked out of your melancholic stupor when the bell to your little book shop dinged. 

You straightened your posture and gave the most polite smile you could. 

“Hi!” You said. “Welcome to Here Today Books!”

The man who entered, gave you a charming–but slightly sheepish–smile, his amber eyes lighting up from behind his dark-rimmed glasses. “Oh! Hello.” He replied, his accent that you’ve grown accustomed to since moving to London, and gave a small wave of his hand. He was dressed in a button up shirt with some kind of gray overcoat worn over it, and some faded jeans. His posture was slightly nervous, you felt. He must be an introvert.

“You looking for anything in particular?” You chirp, leaning on the checkout counter with your elbows. “We got history, mathematics, sci-fi… romance?”

The last part was accentuated by a hearty chuckle on your part with some accompanied eyebrow-waggling, earning what you could swear was a blush on the man’s cheeks. “Oh–uhm…” He said. “N-no romance, I’m ‘fraid. Uh…” 

You tilt your head at him. “Oh! Well, whatever you’re looking for I’m sure I have *something* on the subject.” You click your tongue as you look at the different shelves stacked high to the ceiling, a rolling ladder tucked in the far corner. “My shop has a “try before you buy” kinda policy. You can pick up a book and read it in one of the nooks near the front windows. I also have a complimentary tea, and coffee menu. The snacks are priced however, because I make ‘em fresh to order in the upstairs kitchen.” 

He seemed impressed that such a tiny shop had such a wide variety of options available in the cramped space. “You cook upstairs?” He asked curiously, tilting his head so one of his raven curls bounces over his forehead.

“Yes, I, uhm… kind of live in the flat upstairs. Easier than renting separately, y’know?” You chuckle awkwardly. “I figured offering snacks and drinks would help entice people in. If not to buy a book, but at least a muffin or crepe.” 

“So you also use your flat as a business space?”

“In a sense, I suppose I do.” You chuckled again, this time with a bit more confidence.

“Um… Forgive me if this is rude, but umm…” He shuffled on his feet, awkwardly looking to the side. “Are you American? It’s just that, with your accent and everything…”

You giggle softly. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. Yes, I’m from America.” 

“Oh! That’s interesting. How does someone from America come to own a little book shop in London of all places? Er, if you’re comfortable with answering that question, too, I mean, uh…” 

You smile at him, flashing your teeth a bit. “Nah, it’s a valid question. I inherited this shop from… get this… my great aunt. Real storybook, right? Totally pun-derful. An absolute tale.”

He shakes his head, laughing a little. “That certainly does seem like the opening plotline to a story, doesn’t it? Flying across the pond to inherit a property from an estranged relative you hardly knew…”

“...trying to keep the business thriving in a rapidly obsolete medium, the protagonist is crafty, plucky, but optimistic as they try to stay afloat by themselves, to keep their relative’s memory alive?” You finish for him, your smirk turning into a full-blown grin.

His laugh is a little bit louder now. “Exactly! You could write a novel!”

“Oh, but it would be so boring!” You sigh, dramatically laying over the counter space, arms hanging over the edge. “Just sitting here, day in, day out as I sell children’s books, crappy western romances, cheap “gourmet” coffee, and some slightly burned muffins? Just looking at cat pictures on the internet as the ceiling fan squeaks in ambience?”

“Oh, well, uh, when you put it that way…”

You giggle again. “I get some pretty decent business. I get the students from uni, some bookworms who refuse to retire the medium of actual books made of actual paper…”

“Oh, I know! I don’t get how people can read on their phones! The blue light is atrocious to stare at for too long! I love the feel of paper underneath my fingertips, the smell of the ink…” He sighs almost wistfully.

“Precisely!” You say animatedly, snapping your fingers. “Phones, laptops, and tablets just aren't the same, y’know? There will always be book enthusiasts. A book doesn’t run on batteries, a book won’t shatter if you drop it, or grip too hard… All you need is a good set of eyes or readers, some good light… and you’re set.”

“Oh, exactly! That’s exactly what I tell Marc when he lectures me about owning too many books! My collection “is a hazard” he tells me. Just because I have a few stacks lying ‘round doesn’t mean they’re gonna collapse on you and kill you!” He sighs, throwing his hands up exasperatedly. He clears his throat, and says awkwardly. “Marc is, uh… He’s my… brother. We… live together?”

“Well, tell your brother that he is a heathen. That books are an absolute treasure! You don’t have to pay some dumb subscription to access all the knowledge in that one book, just pick it up and flip a page!” You scoff, waving a hand. “Books–while yes, they can take up some space–are wonderful. And you can never own too many!”

The man laughs, nodding. “Precisely. Marc just likes to complain because he’s always bumbling into them! He’s more of a TV kinda bloke, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve met my fair share of those kinds of people.” You giggle. 

“Oh, uhm.” He fumbles with his satchel bag and holds out his hand. “My name’s Steven. Steven… Steven Grant. It’s nice to meet you, Miss..?” 

You chuckle and tell him your name. 

“It’s nice to meet you Steven, Steven, Steven Grant!” You joke, earning another laugh as you shake his hand.

“Now,” You started. “What are you looking for today?” 

“Oh! Do you have any books on, uhm. Egypt? Ancient Egypt? Archaeology, mythology, things of that like…”

“Actually, I think we do. I keep those kinds of subjects close to the History section.” You step down from your stool, waving a hand for him to follow you as you lead him through the small labyrinth of bookshelves (some almost barely too small for more than one person).

You reach the shelves that contain the books and volumes on said subject. Some even leatherbound. You really should check inventory more often… You had more books on the subject than you thought. But then again, they may have also been left over from your great aunt’s stock. She loved reading on this sort of stuff. You remembered the few times she would read to you fables from some of these books. Strange, you could just barely recall one, now, actually… You shrug the twinge of childhood nostalgia off.

“Looks like I have more than I…” Your voice falls silent when you turn around and see Steven’s eyes already scanning each shelf–all the way to the ceiling–looking almost like a kid in a candy shop. You chuckle and it snaps him out of his trance.

“Uhm, oh. Yes! This is… er. Good! Great! I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck slightly. “What I mean to say is that you have a very interesting selection of books!”

“Ha… Go ham on ‘em. Just don’t mind the dust… These books don’t get looked at too often. Rolling ladder is available for the higher shelves you can’t reach. Reading nooks are up front, and just let me know if you want any refreshments or snacks, or if you want to buy anything. I’ll either be up front, upstairs, or in back… Just press the buzzer on the counter if I’m not at the register.” You say, jabbing your thumb in the vague direction you came from. “And if you get lost in my little maze here…”

You click your tongue. “I should start offering some twine, huh?”

“Because I’m Theseus on his way out of the Minotaur’s Labyrinth?” Steven grinned at you, his eyes twinkling.

“More like I don’t wanna find your mummified remains tucked in between one of these shelves, eh?” You say, grinning at your pun.

Steven shook his head, his curls bouncing as he does so. “Oh, I doubt Marc or Jake would let me stay here that long.”

You pat his shoulder and squeak by him, leaving him alone to peruse your selection.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Steven stayed in the back for nearly an hour. And when he came back he sat down right at the front nook, ordering a blueberry-cinnamon muffin with some Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey, no sugar. You mad a joke about having some Egyptian licorice tea somewhere, to which he started on a little infomercial type rant about how the Pharaohs used to drink it all the time back during the ancient days…

After about four hours (and three more muffins) he stepped up to your counter with all of his books in hand, a happy grin on his face. For sure, you thought, if this man had a tail, it’d be wagging like mad!

“I would ask if you found everything okay, but…” You eyed the stack of books. “...It looks like you kinda did!”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, ah… I got a little absorbed so I decided to take ‘em all…”

“Well, there is no return policy, but there is a trade-in policy. You can either get store credit or physical notes. Have to keep in business somehow right?” You shrug awkwardly.

“Ha ha… Yes, I understand. How much for all of them?” Steven beams, his attention was grabbed though, a moment later to the tiny pencil cup labeled "bookmarks". He plucked one out, and it was a pressed rose; the edges of the petals painted gold and vacuum-sealed with a colorful piece of paper within. 

“Like those, huh?” You smile.

“O-oh yes… very much. It’s beautiful.” He said softly.

“Each mark is fifty-pence.” You say politely.

Steven smiled and placed the bookmark on the top of his book stack.

You ring up the books, and he happily pays for them with a wad of notes (also covering the muffins he scarfed down). 

“I have a bag you can take, if you like. Canvas. I wouldn’t feel right if you had to lug all of those home!” You chuckle.

“Oh, it’s alright!” Steven grins, hoisting the books into his arms like they’re nothing after tucking his new bookmark within the safety of one of the heavier books.

He either works out a lot, or the man has simply done this so many times with so many different books he no longer feels the weight of them.

“I live close by, my flat is just down the block.”

“Oh! So I guess I can expect to hear from you more, huh?” You smile, holding the door open for him as he awkwardly waddles out of your shop.

“I certainly hope so!” He grins at you, giving you a curt nod as he walks down the misty London sidewalk.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Later that night, after you had closed up shop, counted your earnings and stored them in the safe; you went upstairs to unwind for the day. You make a quick dinner, eat, and then shower.

While showering, you notice a different moon on your mark is full. This morning it was the bottom right one. Now, it’s the top one. It wasn’t uncommon for your mark to go outside its usual clockwise rotation, so you shrugged it off, grabbing a towel as you step out of the stall. 

Once you laid in bed, putting on something from one of your streaming services (like, come on, who even uses cable anymore, right?), you propped your cheek in your hand; your elbow supporting you as you stared almost blankly at the screen.

You didn’t think much of anything that night. Even the socially awkward bookworm who had walked into your store today looking into the selection of books you had that rarely anyone ever touched.

Or at least you didn’t think much of anything. Until you felt like you were being run through with a red-hot poker straight into your abdomen. These weren’t menstrual or ovulatory cramps, those were in a different spot. These pains were around your stomach, just under the last few bones of your ribcage. 

This was pain caused by your mark.

Your soulmate was hurt again.

You curled on your side, gasping for air while you waited for the phantom sensation to pass. Once it did, you spread out on your blankets, wiping the sweat from your brow.

“What the hell did you get yourself into now, you reckless dummy?” You ask the dead air of your bedroom.

Chapter 2: Link

#moon knight #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight mcu #moon knight x reader #soulmate au #my writing

[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

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate au #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #marvel #mcu #avengers

[nessieart]

A story of finding yourself and finding love and friendship along the way. Navigating a world you've known all your life to a world of superheroes and foes alike.

A Tony Stark x Shifter!Reader story. Supernatural/Soulmates AU.

-*- COMPLETED

One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || Nineteen || Twenty .

*-*

Part 2 AoU

One-shots:

What If...?

***

Tony and Poppy will return!

#tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x shifter!reader #shifter!reader #mcu fanfiction #Peter Parker #Steve Rogers #Bruce Banner #Soulmate AU #Supernatural AU #Masterlist

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Color of Blood [4]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, situational almost non-con kissing? (it’s not too bad, I swear, but I don’t wanna catch anyone off guard), cursing, mentions of PTSD/flashbacks/nightmares

Word Count: 3,976

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

Bucky stood stiff beside you. Over the last few days, the two of you had floated around, out of sight, but hadn’t left DC yet. There was something you wanted him to see first. He wore some clothes you had gotten for him, a baseball cap over his clean hair, and his face was drawn in solemn concentration.

“I’m gonna wait here.” You whispered. Bucky turned and gave you a curious look and you just shrugged. “This is something you have to do alone, I think, but I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Bucky stared at you for another beat before walking away from you into the exhibit. The ‘Captain America and the Howling Commandos’ display wasn’t as crowded today as it had been the day you came with Steve. You turned and found a bench to sit on.

The last few days had been… unusual. Looking from the outside it was probably awkward. Bucky had said less than ten words to you since the two of you left that used to be bank. He stayed though. Bucky hadn’t run from you, and despite the lack of communication, you felt comfortable. Being around him, despite barely knowing him, was just nice. You were on the run with a man who people either thought were dead or a criminal, but you felt at peace for the first time…well…ever.

You rested your elbows on your knees and kept your face down in hopes that your own hat shielded your face from view. The burner phone in your coat pocket began to go off so you quickly pulled it out and answered. It was a quick phone call, only minutes long, but it was good news. One of your sources had gotten you in touch with a guy that could get you and Bucky out of the country without being seen. Granted that meant the two of you would be riding in a sketchy cargo plane leaving an abandoned airfield at around 1:30 in the morning, but beggars couldn’t be picky.

More time passed, nearly pushing onto an hour and a half, and you briefly wondered if he would come back. This would be the perfect opportunity for Bucky to slip away if he really wanted to and you couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t imagine what he was mentally going through right now and as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t even know where to begin to help. You figured getting out of sight was a good first step, but you were winging this entirely.

You sighed and buried your face into your hands. What if you couldn’t help him? What if you made this worse somehow? What kind of soulmate would that make you? You rubbed your hands against your face and then moved them to the back of your neck. Familiar shoes stepped into your line of vision and you glanced up just as Bucky knelt down in front of you. You hadn’t even heard him walk up.  

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked softly, his voice low.

You gave him a tight smile, “Yeah. How are you? How was…”

Bucky glanced down at his feet briefly before looking back up to meet your gaze. The corner of his lips twitched up just a bit. It was the closest thing you had seen to a smile on him, but you could hardly even consider it that with the pain that was still in his eyes. He nodded once, “Thank you for this. I…”

“You’re welcome.” You replied. He didn’t need to say anything more than that. Bucky stood up and he hesitated for a moment before holding his hand out to you. You took it and he pulled you up from your seat before shoving his hands into his coat pocket. “I got us a ride out of the country.” Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do you feel about Romania?”

4 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” You mumbled under your breath as you tried to salvage the chicken that was burning in the pan. You had only looked away for a second and the damn thing chose that moment to start turning black. It was ridiculous. All the skills you had as an agent did not translate over into the domestic world. You beat the Black Widow in sparring once, only once, and yet you couldn’t cook a chicken without fucking it up.

Bucky was suddenly beside you, you never heard him coming, but he carefully took the spatula from you and went to work in fixing what you had messed up. The two of you were living the weirdest domestic life that probably ever existed. You shared a tiny apartment in the middle of a busy Romanian city. It was only one large room with a bathroom that branched off it. A bed sat in the corner that you slept on and a couch sat in the middle of the room, a little way in front of the kitchen island counter, that Bucky slept on. You fought him tooth and nail to trade, since he was so much larger, but the man wouldn’t have it.

The two of you had fallen into a familiar, cozy habit. You worked at a small café nearby with a fake name to earn money and Bucky did odd jobs that he ran into around the apartment complex. He mostly stayed out of sight for now. It was better that way.

Despite four months together, Bucky still didn’t say much. He’d hold a soft conversation with you now and again, but he kept mostly to himself. He’d read books you picked up from him on the way home and he’d write in a few notebooks he kept. You weren’t entirely sure what he wrote all the time, but it didn’t seem like your place to be nosy about it.

You found comfort in all that silence though. Bucky didn’t talk much, but he did little things that warmed your heart. He’d make your coffee just like you liked it in the morning without saying a word and sometimes when you’d wake up from a nap you’d find a blanket spread over you despite not placing it there when you passed out. You had a bit of a sweet tooth, but it didn’t feel right spending your limited money on any sort of sweets. Yet, sometimes you’d come home from work and your favorite candy or pastry would be on the counter waiting for you.

“How did you manage to fix this mess?” You asked with a chuckle. The edges of the chicken were still burned because of you, but Bucky had managed to save the rest.

Bucky gave you a small smile, “It’s easy. You just make cooking a lot harder than it should.”

Your lips curled up into a wide grin at his teasing. Bucky diverted his eyes away from you and focused back on the pan. The urge to bump your shoulder into his playfully came to mind, but you resisted. He still wasn’t much of a fan of any sort of contact, understandably. The only times he sought out any sort of touch was after one of his nightmares, which he still had regularly much to your dismay, and you never hesitated to wrap your arms around him and give him any sort of comfort he needed.

7 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

It was the middle of the night and at first you weren’t entirely sure what had roused you from your sleep. Your eyes fluttered wearily, and it took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dark. There was a weight on the mattress beside you and when you turned your head you came face to face with Bucky. You took in a sharp breath as your eyes traced his features. Not Bucky. The Soldier.

This wasn’t the first time you had woken up to what HYDRA had created. Sometimes Bucky would have a terrible nightmare and instead of waking up himself the Soldier would slip through the cracks. As startling as it was though, the Soldier had never hurt you.  

He was lying on his right side, and slowly lifted his left hand up to your face. That was one strange thing you noticed. Bucky tended to shy away from physical touch still, but anytime he did reach out to you he always used his right hand. His flesh and blood. Anytime the Soldier came out to play though, he would only touch you with the metal one.

The Soldier traced his metal fingers across your eyebrow then around the curve of your eye down to the cheekbone beneath it. He lightly grazed the skin there before letting his fingers trail down the bridge of your nose until they found your lips. The Soldier’s cold fingers traced your lips and you stayed as still as possible as you let him. He never seemed to mean you harm and he never went too far. It seemed like he just liked to trace your features, like a man memorizing a lover’s face, while mumbling in Russian.

You couldn’t help but gasp a little when his cold finger brushed against your neck. They followed the curve down to your shoulder and slipped under the edge of your shirt just a bit so he could feel your collarbones. It was all normal. Actually, normal might not be the right word. You didn’t think anything about this was normal. It was the usual though. Nothing out of the ordinary and you actually found your eyes drifting closed at the feather light touches.

The Soldier shifted beside you, but you didn’t think anything of it until the metal hand cupped around your neck. Your eyes snapped open, panicked, but the Soldier’s face just hovered over yours as he half leaned on top of you. It was easy to differentiate between the Soldier and your soulmate. As time had passed you mentally separated the two and drew a line in the sand. The face hovering over yours with cold eyes and tightly drawn lips was not your Bucky. It was not the man whose lips would curl up into a small smile anytime you walked into the room. It wasn’t the man whose soft, stormy eyes made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Like you were something special.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the Solider leaned down. You whipped your head to the side, his lips landing on the side of your face, and his hands tightened around your neck in response to try and straighten your head.

“Bucky!” You yelled. The moment the name fell from your lips the body half on top of yours leaped off. You sat up and your eyes landed on Bucky who was pressed against the wall opposite from you, his chest heaving like he had run a marathon. It was Bucky though. It was your Bucky. You recognized those eyes, “Buck—”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to meet yours, but before you could say another word he sprinted out the front door. You fell out of bed, tangled in your own blankets, then tried to run after him. By time you got to the stairs though he was far out of sight. Panic flooded your system. You stumbled back to your apartment and sat down at the kitchen island at one of the two bar stools you had.

You had known the Soldier wouldn’t have hurt you. Something in you was convinced that if you had told him to stop he would’ve immediately.  You had just panicked though. The first time you’d kiss those lips you wanted it to be Bucky. It’d be a lie to say you hadn’t thought of it before, but you’d wait until he was ready. Even if that took years and years and years.

What if he didn’t come back?

That thought plagued you for hours until you passed out on the counter.

Morning light filled the room around you and when you slowly woke up you realized you were lying back on your bed rather than the kitchen island. Your blanket was tucked around you, a good sign, but Bucky was nowhere to be seen in the room and you didn’t hear the bathroom fan running. Worry ran through your veins as you sat up, but before you could start to form some kind of plan the front door opened.

Bucky stepped inside, baseball cap pulled tight over his dark hair, and he stopped at the sight of you staring at him. In one hand he had a box of pastries from your favorite bakery down the street and in the other he had a bouquet of flowers. He swallowed nervously, using his foot to close the door behind him. You stood up as he walked over to the counter and set the items he had on the tile top.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky breathed. “I’m so sorry. I thought about leaving. Thought it’d be better, but…” He clenched his jaw and glanced down at his feet with a shake of his head before looking back up at you, “I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.”

You crossed the room, stopping in front of him, and pressed your lips together, “Can I—Can I hug you?”

Bucky opened his mouth just to shut it again then he nodded. That was all you needed. You closed the space between the two of you and threw your arms around him as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. It took a moment, but you slowly felt him wrap his arms around you as well.

“It’s okay.” You whispered. “I’m not scared of you. You’d never hurt me, Bucky.”

His arms tightened around you just a little bit more.

14 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

It had been a normal day. You had gotten home from work in a good mood, dinner had been made and eaten. After a year together, the two of you had settled like some sort of old married couple. It wasn’t the kind of life you ever expected you’d have, but you were weirdly happy. Bucky had improved a lot over the year. He still had nightmares, but they were coming once a week rather than daily now. More than that, he smiled these days. He’d smile and laugh and he’d talk to you about old memories that came to him. That’s what those notebooks he kept were. One was for the memories he wished he didn’t remember. Missions that he felt obligated to suffer for. One was for memories from his past. Things about Steve or his sister Rebecca or his parents and friends. Then the third notebook he had was for things he never wanted to forget. It was like his journal.

Bucky had come so far and nothing proved that more to you than the moment he touched you for no reason other than wanting to touch you. You had been at the sink, washing dishes, and he had come over to help you by drying. As he grabbed the rag though, he set his right hand on the small of your back and left it there for just a moment. It was such a small thing, sweet and short, but it felt like such a huge step as well.

It had felt like a switch had been flipped. Bucky had gone from no contact at all to constantly having at least one hand on you. It was all innocent touches. A hand on your shoulder, a hand on your back as he passed you, a brush against your wrist as he handed you a coffee, or his shoulder pressed against yours when you sat on the couch together talking. It was just like he was trying to convince himself that you were actually there beside him. You liked it though. You liked it a lot.

16 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

Your shift at the café had lasted longer than it usually did, you were covering for a coworker, and when you got home you figured Bucky would’ve eaten by now and had something set aside for you. That’s usually how it went. When you opened the apartment door you were startled to see that the room lights were out, but a couple candles were lit on the kitchen counter. The setting sun cast light through the small balcony door you guys had as well. Bucky had been by the fridge and he turned around at the sound of your entrance.

Bucky had on a button up shirt and jeans, rather than his usual t-shirt and jacket, and his hair was pulled back into a small half bun so it didn’t hang in his face. On the counter, by the candles, you now realized there were two plates set out and a small thing of flowers there as well. A small smile flittered to your features and Bucky mimicked the motion.

“Hey,” He nodded and wrung his hands together, a nervous tic of his that you recognized, “I figure, we’ve lived together almost a year and a half now, yet I still haven’t taken my soulmate out on any kind of date.” Bucky cleared his throat. “My ma would beat me if she knew.”

You laughed, “Oh, would she?”

“Without a doubt.” Bucky nodded. He quickly stepped forward and pulled out the stool for you, “I made your favorite.”

You tossed your bag aside and sat down on the stool, “My favorite? Wow, you’re pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying, doll.” Bucky chuckled and moved to get the food. “I’m just praying some of the charm I used to have back in the day somehow survived.”

“I think you’d be surprised.” You replied with a smirk. After setting the food down, he grabbed a bottle of wine and uncorked it. If someone had told you that your first date with your soulmate was going to be in a rundown apartment in Romania after living with them for a year then you would’ve laughed in their face. Yet, here you were doing just that and you couldn’t imagine a more perfect first date.

The evening went by perfectly. As the sun dipped below the horizon the only thing lighting the room were the candles and the moonlight.

Bucky chuckled and took a sip of his drink, “It would be too cheesy if I said that of all the colors we can now see my favorite is your eyes, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed even though your favorite color was definitely the stormy, blue gray of his. “You were supposed to be convincing me that you were charming not cheesy.”

Bucky grinned and it made him look years younger, “I am doing my best. Can I get a little slack, doll?”

“Nope.” You said and finished the last of your wine. “I’m actually keeping score right now so I can give you a grade by the end of the night.” Bucky shook his head and stood up to grab the wine bottle off the counter behind him. He poured a little more in your glass. “I can’t decide if you gain points for giving me more wine or lose points for trying to get me inebriated.”

Bucky scoffed, “You’re killing me. You know that right? Actually killing me.”

“You love it.” You joked in response.

He hesitated beside you, setting the bottle down, and cleared his throat, “Yeah. I do.” Your eyes widened a little at his tone. Bucky leaned one arm on the counter beside you and took in a steadying breath, “Everything you’ve done for me… I can’t even begin to tell you how much that means to me.”

“Bucky…”

Bucky shifted to set his hand on top of yours, “I spent the first 27 years of my life wondering what it’d be like to meet my soulmate. What she’d be like. Then, when I—when I fell… I can remember it. I can remember lying in the snow, bleeding, and I distinctly remember waiting to die and feeling so goddamn sorry.” You flipped your hand over to squeeze his hand in comfort. “I felt so awful that I was leaving my soulmate with no one. That she’d live in a world without color for the rest of her life because I made a stupid mistake on a mission.” He gave you a tight smile. “Then I met you. I don’t deserve any of this. After everything I’ve done—”

“None of that was your fault. That was HYDRA, not you.” You said firmly.

Bucky raised his other hand to set on the side of your face, “I don’t understand how I’m so lucky to have a soulmate as remarkable and amazing as you. I love you. I just want you to know that.”

“I love you.” You replied softly and you meant it with your entire being. Bucky said he was lucky, but you felt like the lucky one. You had never met someone who seemed to just understand you like he did. He might have thought all of this was effort for you, a trial, but this past year and half had been the best of your life.

Bucky’s eyes darted down to your lips and he slowly leaned forward. His lips hovered a breath away from yours and you knew he was giving you the space to pull back if you wanted to. That was the last thing on your mind though. You had been waiting for this moment for so long. You leaned forward, eyes closed, and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was soft, hesitant, and you broke apart after a moment. When your eyes opened and met his again though something changed between the two of you.

You stood up from your stool, knocking it over in the process, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled his lips back to yours. Bucky grabbed your thighs, not letting his lips leave yours, and lifted you up until you were sitting on the counter. One hand traced up your body, grabbing the back of your head to hold you close, as his other rested on your back to pull you flush against his chest. You sucked on his lower lip and the groan that fell from his mouth was a sound you’d do anything to hear again.

Bucky tore his lips from yours and left a trail of kisses along your jawline, to the space right below your ear, then down the side of your neck until you felt his teeth graze against your pulse point. A small gasp left your lips as his tongue brushed over where his teeth had gotten you and he tightened his other arm around you as if you weren’t already pressed as close to him as you physically could be.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this.” Bucky mumbled against your skin.

You grinned and tugged on his shirt to bring his lips back towards yours, “Could’ve fooled me.” Bucky slipped his tongue between your lips and you briefly wondered how the hell anyone could be this good at kissing. You didn’t realize a kiss could be good enough to make you feel like this. After another moment, the kiss turned soft again. Bucky pulled back slightly only to lean forward and press his lips against yours a few more times. You set your hands on either side of his face and met his warm gaze. “I love you.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” Bucky mumbled and pressed his lips against yours again. “I love you.”

Romania wasn’t a place you planned to call home, but you were beginning to realize that home was in Bucky’s arms.

[previous chapter]

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #soulmate au

[3mcwriting]

Fading, Part 2

Warnings: language, grief, mentions of death

Note: I won't be making another part to this, this is the final bit.

"I'm your what?" you asked, clearly confused.

The medical professionals quickly left the room, not wanting to disturb the grieving woman and the super soldier.

"You're my soulmate-" Steve almost cursed at how the situation. "God, I'm so sorry. This is terrible timing," Steve took off his shirt, showing the new tattoo over his heart. The name (y/n)(l/n) scrawled on his chest in loopy cursive writing.

"You..." your voice faded as you realized the only worlds scrawled across his skin were your name. "Why are there no other tattoos? Shouldn't all the things I love be there too?"

He put his shirt back on, "Well," Steve thought about it, sadness flooding his voice, "I suppose it's because when your sister got sick, you stopped having time to appreciate all the things you loved. A couple of weeks ago I was completely covered in tattoos. But over time they just faded."

"I guess that makes sense. When my sister got diagnosed I slowly stopped caring about anything else—I didn't have the luxury to care about anything else," you muttered softly. "This absolutely sucks." The (e/c) eyed woman said, louder. "Why of all times would I meet my soulmate when my sister fucking dies?!"

"I'm sorry," Steve moved to place a hand on your arm.

You recoiled from his touch. "Look. it's not your fault, but I need time, okay? This is a lot to deal with at once."

Steve nodded, backing up. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"No, no, stop apologizing. Look-" you looked so empty, "-can you just go?" 

Everything in Steve was telling him to stay—after all, he spent years thinking he didn't have a soulmate and then weeks worrying about them—and now that he'd finally found you, you were asking him to go. But he remembered the pain he felt when Bucky died, the anger, the sadness, he knew grief.

Sometimes people just needed time.

"Yeah, I'll go. But please, talk to me. I know what it's like when you lose everything you love, so here." He scribbled his number down on the notepad by the bedside. "You can talk to me whenever, about whatever. Just—don't feel alone, because you're not." 

You nodded and sat down next to the bed, holding your sister's hand. Your eyes caught on the word written on the inside of your left wrist, 'Brooklyn'. ​​

 Steve sighed and left, throwing a look back at his distraught soulmate. You met his gaze and stood up, hurrying to him and throwing your arms around him. He was stunned at first, but quickly responded. Winding his strong arms around you, he rubbed your back.

They stood there like that, you sobbing into his shirt while he held you. "I'm sorry," you said, pulling away. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No, no, it's ok. I told you, I'm here." Steve said genuinely, blue eyes full of nothing but sincerity. 

"Thank you," you said. You returned to your seat next to your sister. "I'll text you when it's a better time," you managed, "but right now I think I'd appreciate some time with my sister."

He nodded, eyes sad at what you were going though. "Yes, of course." Steve actually leaving the room this time.

You looked at your sister, eyes red from the tears you had shed. "Why now? Why...why?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. (l/n) but you have to say your goodbyes." The doctor said, appearing in the doorway.

"Can I have a little longer please?" Your (e/c) eyes still on the body in front of you. 

The doctor hesitated, "I guess for a couple more minutes. Only 5 though."

You nodded your head. "I wish you were here," your voice cracking as if the sound of your heart breaking could be transferred through your vocals.. "Why aren't you here? I'm sorry, so sorry. I was supposed to protect you—you're my little sister and I failed you." You squeezed your sister's hand one last time and placed one last soft kiss on her forehead. "I'm going to miss you so much." You stepped back from the bed, wiping your tears as the doctor came back in.

Memories flashed through your head of moments with your younger sister.

That night, when (y/n) got home she immediately went to her room.

And cried.

All night long.

•••••

"You met your soulmate?! And you just let her walk away?!" Natasha was incredulous after watching how Steve had become hyper fixated on finding his soulmate and now he just let her go.

"Her sister had just died. She deserves time to come to terms with that without having to worry about a soulmate." Steve explained.

"Ok," Natasha conceded. "Did you at least get her phone number?" Steve winced, telling her everything she needed to know. "Really Steve? You didn't even ask for her phone number?"

"I-," Steve said, "I gave her my phone number."

•••••

Your eyes rested their gaze on a dark screen, a sigh escaping you. 

What exactly were you supposed to say? 

Hey, this is your soulmate that you met two months ago and haven't talked to since. 

Or

Oh, remember me? Yeah, we met while my sister was dying in her hospital bed, yeah good times.

You sighed. "Fuck it."

Turning on the phone, you went to the number and quickly typed in a message then sent it before you could stop herself again.

Hi, this is (y/n) (l/n). We met two months ago, sorry for not contacting you sooner. It's been hectic, if you get a chance text me.

You bit your lip, anticipation already building. When nothing popped up for a couple minutes you turned off the screen and sighed. He's probably busy or something, you reasoned with yourself. After all, he's Captain fucking America. He probably hasn't even noticed my lack of communication. The thought hurt, but it was probably true.

He looked down at the object in his hand, almost like it was a wondrous trinket from some far off land. 

But no, it was just a simple cell phone. 

There was nothing remarkable about it, other than the fact that it was ridiculously outdated. To the eyes of Steven Grant Rogers though, it could've displayed the secret to salvation across its dim screen and he wouldn't look at it like he was looking at it now. 

"Hi, this is (y/n) (l/n). We met two months ago, sorry for not contacting you sooner. It's been hectic, if you get a chance text me."

"She texted me..." He was ecstatic to the point where he could barely comprehend the situation. After all, the first( and last) time he saw you was when your sister was in her hospital bed. Then, he'd spent two months worrying about you, hoping a text message would light up his screen and tell him that you were okay, that even though you were grieving, you were still healthy and your mental health was good. The last time he worried about someone like this was when he found out Bucky was captured behind enemy lines. 

Then he looked at the time he had gotten the message, 8:32 AM. His fingers went across the flip phones buttons as fast as they could. Typing a message out quickly and clumsily before sending it off to her. 

"Hello, I'm so hapoy to hear from you. Dom't apologise, you needed time and that's perfectly fine. How are you? I hope yoi're doing ok, thanks for reaching out." 

He winced at the typos, his clumsy fingers weren't exactly the most efficient way to send text messages. His attention was quickly diverted when he saw the speech bubbles, showing that you were typing back.

You felt a small smile grace your features as you read the text. The moment you had stepped out of the shower, the phone had lit up with a notification. 

What stood out to you was that he was asking how you were doing. Not a question for the two month silence, but a hope that she was alright and an acceptance of her situation.

"Yeah, I'm alright. How are you?" 

A couple weeks passed, you and Steve texting whenever you had the time.

You were scared.

Not because of Steve, Steve was a sweetheart.

But because of how easy it was to talk to him, how easy it was to smile because of him. 

How easy it was to care about him.

It had only been about 3 months since her sisters death and yet, you were already happier. An underlying sense of guilt plagued your mind whenever you texted him, whenever you smiled.

Barely a month of only texting and you were already worried that you were falling in love with him.

Granted, he was your soulmate, so it's to be expected that you felt so strongly about him.

You just didn't expect it.

The whole experience was like diving from atop a cliff, the exhilarating feeling, excitement, the falling. 

Because you were falling, and falling fast.

You could only hope that the water at the bottom wasn't hiding jagged rocks beneath the surface.

"We're closed," you said, hearing the bell above the doorway ring, announcing someone's entrance. You stopped wiping down the counter, looking up and freezing. The cleaning rag lying limp on the shiny counter, having been dropped by the incredulous woman.

(E/c) eyes met blue eyes.

The unmistakable face of your soulmate.

"(Y/n)?" he asked, a surprised expression coming across his face. 

"Hi, Steve," you said casually, the tone not at all matching the way your heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

A bright smile grew on his face. "Wow, I was just getting away from the paparazzi and I found you." Disbelief and happiness both clearly present in his voice. "How are you?" he asked, finally moving away from the door.

The (e/c) eyed woman stood frozen behind the counter, "I'm good." You said back, then reality sunk in. How the fuck did this happen? "Why are you here?" you asked, then mentally facepalmed. He just said he was escaping the paparazzi.

His smile didn't falter though. "I was exploring the city and some paparazzi found me. I thought I could hide here." His expression changed to one of guilt. "Can I hide here for now?"

Here he was, Captain America, your literal soulmate, asking if he could stay in the small cafe with you. 

"Yeah. Yes, of course", you said, snapping out of her thoughts. You grabbed the rag, continuing to wipe down the counter. It was already spotless, but you needed to do something with her hands.

Your eyes met his and you almost gasped at the way he was looking at you.

Like you'd hung the moon, and every star in the sky. Eyes full of wonder. Almost as if he couldn't believe you were standing in front of him, your very existence bringing an unimaginable sense of belonging and adoration.

For Steve, he fell in love with her within the first few days when they were texting. He had always thought that texting was a lazy thing people today now did instead of actually talking to people. But messaging the you brought him such an easy sense of belonging that he'd been sorely lacking since waking up in the twenty-first century. 

You were funny and intelligent and could always make him smile. Normally, he was Captain America, the super soldier, American golden boy, but with you, he was just the skinny guy from Brooklyn.

The one who always stood up for what's right, had no clue how to talk to women.

The real him, not the show pony America paraded around.

He loved it.

But most importantly, he loved you.

From then on, they started seeing each other more often. Once a month, to twice, to once a week, to almost every day.

Steve was busy with Avengers work, and you were busy getting your PhD while working at the cafe they unexpectedly saw each other.

Everything was perfect.

At least, that's what it appeared like.

Both Steve and you had had a dull throbbing sensation where their soulmate tattoos were, since about two months after they had met at the coffee shop.

You became almost frantic when you saw that a smudged name had appeared beneath Steve's. 

What does it mean to have a smudged name underneath your soulmate tattoo?

1,300,672 google search results

To have a faded, or smeared name beneath your original soulmate tattoo, means that you have a third soulmate. One who used to have a soulmate, but their soulmate died, passing their soulmate bond onto you.

(E/c) eyes stared at the new tattoo,

It almost looked like someone had written a name on your skin in Sharpie, but then had rubbed it, smearing the ink but leaving the letters readable.

It wasn't just any name though.

It was your soulmate.

Your other soulmate.

James Buchanan Barnes

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #soulmate au #steve rogers soulmate au #mcu x reader #mcu #reader insert