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#roger taylor angst
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"Slut!"
Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.
Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist
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"She goes through guys like a train-"
You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.
"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.
You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."
"I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"
"A slut," you finish for him.
His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."
You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.
It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.
It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.
They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.
You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.
It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.
You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.
There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.
And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.
In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.
For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.
That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.
You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.
This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.
Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."
"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."
It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.
Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"
"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.
"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.
"For what?"
"You warned me this would happen."
It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.
You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.
Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.
It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.
But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.
You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.
No one knew how bad it would get.
"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."
"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."
You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"
He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."
"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.
The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.
It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.
At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.
You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.
But it didn't end there. Not even close.
The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.
From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.
You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.
"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."
Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"
"I've been better."
"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."
"What now, Tony?"
"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"
You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"
"They want me to take over for you."
You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"
"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."
"No, don't do that. It's for dad."
"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."
"They broke into my house, Tony."
"What? Are you okay?"
"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"
"Where was your security?" Tony demands.
"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."
"I'm so sorry."
"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."
You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."
"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."
And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.
You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.
It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.
You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."
"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."
And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"
Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a
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Soon You'll Get Better [Steve Rogers x F!Reader]
Part 1 of My Lover Celebration in honour of the queen, Taylor Swift
Summary :- “You'll get better, you have to”
Warnings :- I don't think i understood the right meaning of this song lol, nurse!reader, Steve is 6'4, kinda angst, insecure!reader, pov's keep switching, it's not good but i tried ig, sudden confessions.
Dividers by :- @firefly-graphics
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“The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair
In doctor's-office-lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared
That was the first time we were there
Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you
Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too”
Captain America was rushed in the hospital wing of the Avengers Compound after a rough mission as Y/n, Dr. Banner's assistant, rushed to him. She analysed him and looked after him till he got better. She'll never admit it but she had a little crush on the handsome 6'4 super soldier.
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“I know delusion when I see it in the mirror
You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal
I just pretend it isn't real
I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky
I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try”
She knew that he would never love someone like her. Why would anyone? He did try to sweet talk her in his rough voice and it did work, but she'll never admit it. She'll never admit her feelings to him. She knew that he liked those other hot nurses that flirted with him whenever she was gone. Her feelings for him were the secrets she'll never tell anyone. Or so she thought.
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“And I hate to make this all about me
But who am I supposed to talk to?
What am I supposed to do
If there's no you?”
“So you like him, he's your patient, he obviously likes you back but you're still crying about him?”, Wanda said as she softly rubbed your back. You nodded, still sniffling. Admit your feelings to him, love. She said that just like everyone else. But she would never do that.
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“This won't go back to normal, if it ever was
It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because
'Cause I have to”
“Sweetheart, I'm all better now. I was hoping if I could start going back on missions”, Steve asked you as he looked at you hopefully. You nodded. “Of course, Steve”, you said. You had your back turned to him as you wrote about something. He grabbed your arm and turned you around so that you were chest-to-chest. “Love, you wanna know something?”, he said in a low voice. “Y-yeah?”, you asked him, your voice barely audible to your ears. “I love you”, he whispered in your ear before tucking a strand of your hair behind it. Your whole face was red. “Y-you do?”, you stuttered. He nodded before pouring all his emotions into your first kiss.
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"Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better
Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better
Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon
'Cause you have to”
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iateall-yourcookies · 8 months
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Timeless is so Bucky coded
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despair, desire—so many monsters
For @a-froger-epic — Happy Birthday!
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Often, he wonders if he is the only one who feels the stretch of hunger so deeply—if it plagues him especially because it is forbidden, abhorrent. Roger talks of women with a detached sense of lust, as though he can conquer it by himself, trained from years of knowing and speaking it, never having been denied it. Freddie, on the other hand, explodes with each new encounter, seeking another high even before the first one has worn off.
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ladybug100 · 2 years
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Taylor swift fics
*fics inspired taylor swift songs. Some of these fics are from my other accounts it's my work I'm not stealing*
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1. Cardigan: leavin' like a father
2. Cardigan: chase two lose the one
3. Wildest dreams: call me when you get this part 2
4. Mirrorball: his past and present
5. Cardigan: when peter lost wendy
6. Your not sorry: a fall like no other
7. Tear drops on my guitar: tear drops on my guitar
8. Because I liked a boy/ Mr. Perfectly fine: because I liked a boy
9. Sad, beautiful, tragic/ come in with the rain: pocket sized lies
10. Endgame: endgame
11. This is me trying: this is me trying
More to come...
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lady-maracas · 2 years
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Prompt list
HI! If you have a request, choose 2-3 prompts from this list.
Find my masterlist here.
What I write for:
Queen band.
It can be another fandom that I know enough (I know lots about RDR2 and Star Wars).
I'm ok with smut, not my speciality tho...
I'm pretty open for anything!
Fluff Prompts
"You're the best first kiss I've ever had."
"You got me flowers?"
"Wait, you think I'm cute?"
"You're lucky that you're cute."
"I don't think I've ever seen you smile."
"It's better with you here."
"You're welcome to stay, if you want."
"I haven't laughed like this in a long time."
"Hold still. This might hurt a little."
"I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me."
"Is that my shirt?"
"You remembered?"
"Was that your first kiss?"
"You're the only thing that matters."
"Nope! Puppy dog eyes aren't going to work this time!
"Keep it. It looks better on you."
"You feel like home to me."
"You're so dumb!"
"You could punch me in the face and I'd still want you."
"You're driving me crazy here!"
"I've been worried sick! Where the hell were you?"
"Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"
"Don't ever do that again."
"Looks like we'll be trapped for a while..."
"I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."
"Wanna dance?"
"YOU DID WHAT!?"
"If you die, I'm gonna kill you."
"You're not as funny as you think you are..."
"You were put on this Earth to give me a headache."
"You're ticklish?"
"You are a terrible influence."
"In my defence, I really wanted to."
"Just marry me already."
"Did I just say that out loud?"
"Can I braid your hair?"
"Don't worry, I'll be here when you wake up."
"Come here, and give me a goodnigt kiss."
"You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need."
"You know you love me."
Smut prompts
"I know for a fact that you can be a hell lot louder than that."
"Let me make you feel better."
"You're not the innocent little angel everyone thinks you are."
"You're playing hard to get?"
"I want to kiss every inch of you."
"I've been thinking about you all day."
"How badly do you want me?"
"I've never done something like this before."
"You look good like this."
"I won't bite. Unless you're into that sort of thing."
"I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you'd like to know."
"Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?"
"Show me how much you missed me."
"You're such a tease."
"It's hot when you talk back."
"You know where to find me."
"Did I say you could stop?"
"You better watch your mouth."
"Come over here and make me."
"Use your words."
"We're in public, you know?"
"If we get caught, I'm blaming you."
"You sent me pictures of you naked while I was in a work meeting!"
"It's not my fault you keep turning me on."
"Come, sit."
"Tell me how it feels. It doesn't hurt does it?"
"I want you now."
"Can you feel what you're doing to me?"
"Each of my thoughts about you were improper."
"You wanna have sex with me?"
"Are you sure? Once I start I don't think I'm able to stop."
"I guess I'll just get off by myself,"
"Want help with that?"
"We're not just friends, you know that."
"Friends don't do this kind of shit!"
"You're naked aren't you?"
"Come to my room theres this ting I want to try-"
"I can't hold back anymore."
"Don't mind me, just enjoying the view."
"Make me yours."
Angst Prompts
"You think you know me, but the the truth is you don't."
"Going home isn't an option anymore."
"Do you wish I was different?"
"You deserve better than what you've got."
"I'm affraid of losing you, okay?"
"I know you probably hate me right now, and I get it."
"There's something you're not telling me."
"Why would I trust you again?"
"I think you expect too much from me."
"Don't start a fight you won't win."
"You've changed."
"This isn't worth crying over."
"Are you avoiding me?"
"I can't lose you again!"
"You didn't just break my heart, you broke my trust."
"I don't have the energy to fight with you anymore."
"I lost myself the day I lost you."
"You're the only mistake I don't regret."
"Thanks for the trauma, by the way."
"It would be better if you stayed away from me."
""I didn't realise I was such an inconvenience."
"I'd take our relationship back in a heartbeat."
"Don' go on that date"
"When was the last time you said you loved me and meant it?"
"Please, don't leave me."
"What is it about me that isn't good enough?"
"I don't need you to tell me who I am!"
"Will you even miss me at all?"
"All I wanted was a happy ending."
"You don't have to hide your tears from me."
"For once in your life, what do YOU want?"
"I was a fool for believing what you said."
"I know you're tired."
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
"Are they really more important than me?"
"Stop acting like you were ever in love with me!"
"Do you ever think about anyone else than yourself?"
"You are so naive."
"I would risk everything for you."
"You know I still love you, right?"
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hotspace39 · 3 months
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Writing suggestion for you: Deaky x reader, strictly fluff, maybe a little angst, but all in all, a happy ending. Also, reader is friends with the band, and maybe you could incorporate Freddie, Brian and Roger, all of them remarking how much reader and Deaky are in love. Idiots in love, basically.
This is almost too specific, but c'mon, we're mutuals.
Of course!!! Thank you for the request :)
Completely zoned off in the band’s rehearsal, I watched in awe as my boyfriend plucked the strings of his sunburst Squier bass, fingers moving somnambulant.
How did I get so lucky?
I mused silently, smiling absent-mindedly like a lovestruck idiot as I gazed at him: his long locks of wavy brown hair, his kind smile, his clever blue-grey eyes, his beautiful hands with those long, delicate fingers…
My daydreaming was rudely disturbed by a clamour of loud voices.
“Fred, you’re singing it wrong, it’s throwing my timing off!”
“Oh fuck off Roger” Freddie’s voice purred.
I looked up at the two having a spat. This was a common occurrence, no shock to me at this point. The two argued like brothers nearly every time I’d come along with John to these rehearsals. Sometimes Brian would join in, too - but never John. He preferred to sit and do his own thing.
“Oh quit it Roger, he’s singing it fine!” Brian chimed in. I lifted my head and couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the arguing. I personally thought they sounded great, but I didn’t know much about what they were going for. It all seemed quite experimental to me, different to what you’d hear on the radio.
John took the backseat for these arguments, never contributed. I understood, I didn’t like confrontation either. He had only joined the band a few months ago so he felt like the “new boy” still, but he had so much more that he could contribute to the band. I often tried to persuade him to push his ideas to the others - I thought they were brilliant - but he said no, he didn’t want to. Not yet.
I glanced at John to make sure he was doing okay. It took me a second to catch his attention, but when I did, he smiled at me. That beautiful smile. It lit up my whole world for a matter of seconds: like it was just me and him in this practise room. I found myself blushing, suddenly shy - as though we hadn’t been going out for two months at this point.
John spoke up - a rare occurrence. His voice was soft but firm.
“Why don’t we take a break for a few minutes, get a coffee? I think we’re all knackered right now and won’t agree on anything.”
The other three begrudgingly agreed and went off their separate ways, Freddie and Roger still bickering as they walked out the door. John closed the door after them and looked at me, mouth twitching to a smile. We both laughed. We often joked that his bandmates were like our kids, a group of toddlers with their constant bickering.
“Nothing changes with them, does it?”
I asked while sidling up towards him coolly, hiding the flutter of excitement in my stomach.
He shook his head and laughed.
“It’s the one thing you can bet on, these spats. Especially when it comes to Rog and Fred.”
I was right beside John at this point. I loved how I had to look up a little bit to see his face, I only came up to his shoulders. He looked down at me and smiled.
“Good thing I have you here to keep me sane.”
He muttered before bending down to give me a kiss. I smiled into the kiss as I closed my eyes, revelling in the soft touch of his lips. I let my tongue wander and hummed slightly, hinting that I wanted more.
John paused and drew back to look at me.
“But the guys will be here soon…”
I groaned, knowing he was right.
“I know. I just love you so much.”
John’s expression softened and he cupped my face in his hands, looking me in the eye with his pretty smile.
“I love you too.”
We stood like that, savouring every second, until the band walked in and we reluctantly pulled away from eachother. Brian was first in the door and just caught John’s hands grazing my face.
“Ah, the two lovebirds!”
He laughed softly, rolling his eyes playfully. Roger came in right after, hearing Brian’s comment.
“What were they up to? Hope it wasn’t anything too raunchy.”
He snickered.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous Roger!”
Freddie scolded like a cross mother as he sauntered into the room.
“You know these two, they only ever kiss and cuddle and hold hands around us. Bit boring, if you ask me.”
He joked, winking at me. I rolled my eyes playfully at him, giggling slightly. I’d always had a soft spot for the eccentric frontman.
“Right boys, let’s go!”
He announced. I checked my watch and retreated to my seat in the corner to watch the band again.
Only an hour, I told myself. An hour sounded like years to me, though. I needed to be close to John again. I missed his tender touch already, his soft whispers, his gentle manner.
The rehearsal went by much the same as it had before - evidently the “10 minute break” didn’t do much good for anyone. The bickering picked up where it left off, and John stayed silent. Not much playing was done with the amount of arguing going on, meaning John was just sitting with his bass on his lap for a good majority of the next hour. I tried to catch his eye, my brows furrowed, but he seemed to know that if he looked at me I’d silently encourage him to speak up. So he avoided my glance.
We said our goodbyes to his bandmates and didn’t say a word until we were in the car. The tension between us hung thick in the air. When we closed the doors and sat into the car, I turned to face John from the passenger seat.
“You need to speak up when they carry on like that. It’s unfair to you, their bickering means you just sit there and do nothing at all. It’s a waste of your time.”
“I knew you were going to say that!” He exclaimed. He took a deep breath and sat back into his carseat with a stony expression.
“I can’t.” He sighed and massaged his temples, as though he had a headache. I could see him tense his jaw and could almost feel the angst and anger in him bubbling to the surface.
He slammed a fist against the wheel of the car - not particularly hard; almost in an exhausted manner. I wasn’t afraid, I knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on me; it just made me upset to see him like this. He pushed his hair back, exasperated. I lay my hand gently on his shoulder, feeling the cool, soft suede of his brown jacket. He sighed.
“I know you’re just trying to help me. I get it. But… I’ll figure it out on my own. It’s not like me to barge in and start arguing, I just don’t function like that. Just… give me a while and I’ll figure it out.”
“I know. I was just afraid they were pushing you around. I hate that you barely even got to play there.”
He smiled at me weakly.
“I know you’re concerned for me, and I appreciate it. I just prefer to deal with these things by myself.”
I smiled sympathetically back at him.
“I’m sorry, I should know that by now.”
I laid my hand on his lap.
“I just worry ‘bout you Deacs, that’s all.”
He gave me a proper smile now, showing me that perfect gap-toothed grin of his that I loved, rolling his eyes playfully.
“I’ll have you know I can take care of myself quite sufficiently by now!”
I played along and adorned a doubtful expression.
“Really? Maybe you should do it more often then.”
We both laughed, any and all tension completely dissipated. I smiled, feeling warm and happy, hand on John’s lap, as we drove back to his flat.
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lokisgoodgirl · 6 months
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Welcome to the Masterlist for The Lakes. A series (yes, series) which I hope will be a staple of your autumnal days alongside steaming tea, cosy candles and thick, fluffy blankets.
This series is complete.
A Link to my regular Masterlist is HERE
The Lakes: Captain Rogers in his infinite wisdom has decided that a select team of Avengers require a crash course in basic outdoor survival skills. Location? The Lake District, England.
In the crisp chill of autumn, based out of a tiny and remote cottage, your reluctant role as the resident 'expert' is put to the test. But nothing the wilds of Cumbria can throw is more testing than the ever-present irritations and temptations of your recent ex, Loki.
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Warnings: More domestic humour, thirst, mild angst and fluff than smut. Although there is some smut obviously, because I have a problem.
Characters: Agent Reader (no YN), Loki, Thor, Steve
Each chapter will have a suggested vibe setting track from Taylor Swift's Folklore which is appropriate but entirely optional.
Chapter-Cottage🏕️ 1. Changing Seasons (w/c 3.8k) 2. Sticks and Stones : (w/c 4.8k) 3. A Long Way Down (w/c 4.6k) 4. Home Truths (w/c 4.5k) 5. A Cunning Plan - (w/c 4.7k) 6. Darkest Night, Brightest Day (w/c 6.2k) 7. Harvest -(w/c 6.2k)
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Christmas Specials 8. Secretive Santa (w/c 7.3k) 9. Comfort & Joy (w/c 7.8k)
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laurey257 · 8 months
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Good Omens fanfic recs that ease the pain. (All complete, canon-compliant)
I am an avid reader and I’ve been combing the floods of new (awesome) things hitting Archive and similar to find what best eases the pain of That Episode. Here’s the best canon-compliant and complete ones that give some soothing to the angst of our angel and demon parting:
**This was a hard decision but I am excluding works in progress since they need time to mature—all these are complete /compliant and can be invested in without fear.**
Jesus, Etc.
This one had me howling.  Crowley runs into a frantic Aziraphale with Jesus at a Barbenheimer premiere who he is frantically keeping busy to prevent the Second Coming.  A battle of the wills with pop songs in the Bentley, Taylor Swift, Kenergy, sushi, a nativity play and a magic show are the least of the insanity that comes next.  (Kudos for the awesome cameo from Mrs. Sandwich.)
To the Universe
This one is a 22-chapter, complete, canon-compliant season 3 full arc that can take the edge off for everyone who is internally screaming that we have years to wait to see all this resolve.  Really can’t say enough about this one.  It tied up every loose end.  Certain parts reminded me of Pratchett and the ending had me on the edge of my chair and cheering out loud.  (bonus extra in a hilarious treatment of Jesus in Tadfield that has him turning himself into a teen named Dave.) This could have been season 3 in another timeline.
Separate Ways
A sweet, short little one where Aziraphale has Muriel checking up on a devastated Crowley from the bookshop, and they finally at least talk.  No resolution, but it felt so nice to read. 
The Second Coming
One-shot (but around 7000 words in chapter format) that is canon-compliant.  Aziraphale “awakens” in the elevator (think ox ribs but sexually) and yeets himself back to earth to roger Crowley six ways from Sunday.  Smutty, so don’t read this one aloud to your parents.  (naked apology dance reference in here made my eyes fall out.)
Heaven is not fit to house a love
A sweet little one with a *small* deviation from canon (that seemed ok because they have a good point.) Crowley had never told Aziraphale about the way the angels managed his trial OR about what he saw in the Heavenly files with Muriel.  He jams his way into the elevator (telling the Metatron to get the next one) and tells him.
Not for all my Little Words
An adorable one where Aziraphale, realizing he screwed up, chases Crowley through loudspeakers and other people’s phones through Europe using famous love quotes until he gets his attention (and some forgiveness.)
Everywhere
Oh so lovely! A longer one-shot where Azi realizes that management is not what he cracked it up to be (they tell him nothing.) So he saves Crowley instead from a Heavenly asassination attempt. (Maggie, nina and anathema help!)
A Proper Apology
One where the Angel simply calls over and over until they really talk.  (Or imagine the idiots simply just used the phone.)
Cause you like me too much and I like you
A sweet little one where Aziraphale quietly resigns, has a chat with Gabriel and Beez in the bookshop, and does the apology dance.
A sweet little daydream Azi has in the elevator about apologizing to Crowley in the Ressurectionist pub  before waking up and realizing oh crap he is still in Heaven.
Did I miss any other good ones?  Tell me?
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swiftispunk · 11 months
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come back, be here | joel miller x f!reader
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an in my hometown story | series music inspo
pairing: neighbour!dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!actor(ish)!reader (+ platonic!tommy and platonic!sarah)
summary: pre-outbreak/tlou. joel reckons with life in austin after you return to LA. very much set in 2002 bc it’s fun. mostly joel POV.
slight canon divergence (sarah’s mom is vaguely in the picture)
word count: 4k
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
warnings etc: smut, imo there is fluff here, angst, 10 year age gap, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation (m+f), alcohol use, mentions of food, gratuitous time hops, payphones. NO USE OF Y/N.
A/N: you guys: write domestic bliss! give them a happy ending! romantic reunion! me: *steve rogers voice* no i don't think i will long distance relationships are hard ya'll, especially undefined ones (sorry) this is a part of the IMH universe but if you wanted some depressing phone sex with pre-outbreak!joel, you could absolutely enjoy this as a standalone.
playlist standouts for this chapter are come back, be here - taylor swift and hey jane - spiritualized
Stumbled through the long goodbye One last kiss, then catch your flight Right when I was just about to fall I told myself, don't get attached But in my mind, I play it back Spinning faster than the plane that took you...
Joel tries not to call every day.
He knows you need your space, your time to thrive and work and live the life you chose, so far from home. 
Well, his home, not yours. Not anymore.
It’s usually every other day, more than that if you call with news. Not that there’s much of that; the play you'd been "starring in" had closed to the tune of some less-than-stellar reviews, you’d landed a couple regional commercials, and finally found yourself an agent that at least seemed to have your best interests at heart.
You'd called Joel to share every one of those moments with him. He’s the first person you call any time there’s something in your life worth sharing, it’s just that those instances are exceptionally rare, to say the least.
So Joel calls you mostly. In the evenings, if he’s not working late, midday if he has an hour for lunch. Once, after midnight when he’d awoken from a particularly vivid dream - one involving you in the dress you’d worn at your going-away party - he’d called you, and you’d whispered sweet nothings into the phone while Joel’d stroked himself desperately under the sheets in the desolate confines of his bedroom walls, the two of you getting off together in hushed whispers, miles apart. 
That was four months ago - and it had only happened the one time - but Joel clings to the memory like moss on a damp wall.
“Are you touchin’ yourself too?” he breathed into the phone held firmly against his ear, his fingers already wrapped around his cock, hard and leaking over his knuckles, leftover from the oh-my-god-why?-I’m-thirty-fucking-five-years-old wet dream he’d been shaken awake by.
“Yes,” you whispered back, velvet soft, sending Joel's imagination running wild at what you might have looked like, hand between your thighs, the phone tucked inside the delicate crook of your neck and pressed hotly to your ear.
“Good girl,” he hummed and he listened as you fought to contain a moan, probably fearful of one your roommates overhearing.
“Are you…are you hard for me, Joel?”
You sounded so unsure to Joel's ears, which was fair. You hadn't exactly established what the two of you were or would be after that crucial Christmas visit. So a salacious phone call in the middle of the night to tell you how he was "dreamin' about that pretty mouth of yours" probably (rightfully) caught you off guard.
Still, just the sound of your voice, playing along so willingly, had Joel groaning softly, the gravelly noise a hollow thing through the speaker of the shitty cell phone you'd been coerced into buying ("everyone here just has one, I guess").
“So fuckin’ hard for you, sweetheart. Wish you were here to feel it.”
“W-what would you do if I was?”
Fuck.
Joel picked up the pace of his strokes as he considered that, his voice growing ragged as he worked to answer your question. 
“Wanna get my hands on that pussy, baby. You all wet for me?”
You whimpered breathlessly and hummed a quiet, “Mhmm."
“How many fingers you got inside you?” he asked, focusing his grip towards the base of his cock, pausing his strokes and trying in vain perhaps to draw things out a bit, at least until he could hear your hushed response. He needed to know, needed to picture you playing with yourself on other end of the line, something that could help him feel like you were here with him, for real.
“J-just one.”
Joel threw his head back, squeezing his cock tighter and resuming his steady strokes at the image of you with a finger in your cunt, biting his lip hard when he thought of the way it would coat with your juices, how much he'd love to suck the sweet slick clean off your soaked digit.
You made him feel so fucking filthy. You made him feel like a man. He needed you here, damnit.
“Put another one.”
He wasn't sure at first if you obeyed, but then you both moaned quietly in unison, Joel pulling at his cock as you presumably added another finger. Joel could hear your breath catching in your throat, a delicious sound that made him wonder if you were curling your fingers inside yourself, like he'd have done if he were there.
"How's that feel?" he asked, voice strained.
"Mmmm, s'good, Joel," you sighed. The sound of you uttering his name in that contented, breathy hue had Joel losing his rhythm a bit - his motions now a fevered, frantic thing, too rushed. "Wish it was you, though."
You had no idea how much he wished the same thing.
"Me too, baby, me too, wanna get my mouth on you so bad." Breathless, crazed-sounding, he meant it. "Wanna taste you again."
A soft whine from you cut through the wire, making Joel's dick twitch in his palm, as he continued to pump himself with that same determined vigour.
"Remember the first time I sucked your dick?" you asked then and Joel's mouth fell open involuntarily, his hand once again freezing on his cock because he would have fucking come right then and there just at the thought of it.
It's exactly what he'd been dreaming about before he'd called you. You on your knees with your pretty dress under you, his forearms braced on the dresser he'd helped build, the way you'd looked so needy for it, like he'd been giving you the sweetest gift in the world. The way you'd looked up from under your lashes when you'd swirled your tongue around the tip.
"Think about it all the time, sweetheart," he managed to grunt softly. Truthfully.
He could never forget it.
Not that it could ever compare, but on the phone with you that night, conjuring up the memory, he flicked his thumb over the tip of his leaking cock, as though he could ever recreate the feeling of your tongue on him.
"Me too."
Joel's hips bucked up into his hand at that, another phantom memory playing at the edges of his mind - the one of you bouncing on his cock last Christmas, your shuddering form coming around him, his big hands on your back as he'd held you flush against him when you did, so he could properly feel all of it. All of you.
"You gettin' close, darlin'? Playin' with your clit?" Joel breathed into the phone, feeling his own release creeping up on him again as the reverie flashed behind his eyelids, clenched tightly shut with concentration. Trying to make sure you got there first.
"Fuck - yes," you hissed and your choked little gasps made the muscles in his guts tighten, right on the edge as the movements of his hand grew sloppier still.
But it wasn't enough. You were being so quiet.
"Let me hear you come, baby, just a little," he begged, voice wrecked, cock rigid and angry in his fist. “Let me hear those pretty sounds you make.”
It's what he missed the most, the desperate whines that had fallen from your lips when he'd had his mouth on you the last time; the prettiest, sexiest noises he'd ever heard.
Roommates be damned, if Joel was begging you for something, you were never going to deny him.
He listened as your breathing stuttered, picturing your fingers rubbing furious circles over your clit, until you let a high-pitched moan slip from you as you came.
That was all Joel needed to coax out his own climax, hot seed spilling over his knuckles - his last thought of you, bent over before him on a twin bed, that very first time.
That's his favourite call - or at least, it's the one that makes him the least miserable.
Of course, there'd also been the call that had come on New Year's Eve; he likes that one too. You'd made a point to call two hours early - your time, just to catch him right at midnight - his time.
"Happy New Year, Joel!" you'd screamed into the receiver, his face splitting into a genuine smile as he'd held the phone away from his face at the piercing sound of your voice hitting his ear drum.
"Happy New Year, sweetheart," he'd replied, heart bursting at the warmth in your tone, how thoughtful you'd been to consider the time difference. How you'd remembered him. "Bit early for you though, innit?"
"You better not be kissing anyone," you'd slurred, ignoring his question, already drunk - out somewhere, from what Joel could surmise.
"Not a chance," he'd assured you. He'd glanced over at Sarah, making sure she was still passed out on the couch beside him before going on,
"I'd kiss you if you were here, though."
He'd said it softly, so as not to wake her. Meanwhile, Dick Clark had quietly shined on the TV, casting blue and white light across Joel's dark living room as the big ball had touched down in Times Square.
"Me too," you'd said, and Joel could hear the truth in your voice. His chest had throbbed in time with the distant boom of fireworks outside his window, each one like a bomb going off in his gut. If you were home you'd hear them too, but through the phone, there's just Joel.
"Here's to a good year," Joel'd said, not an ounce of hope in the declaration, toasting to no one with the beer in his hand.
You'd just sighed, long and anguished.
'Cause in the beginning, in the days following that Christmas visit, there had been lots of days you'd called with tears in your voice, sobbing into the phone about long working hours, or some new rift with your roommates or - the calls he'd selfishly longed for - how much you missed him.
"I'm trying so hard, Joel," you'd cry, while he'd fight to stay composed, just listening patiently and offering comfort where he could.
"I know, baby, I know."
"Maybe I should just give up."
Yeah, you should. Come home. Be here.
"No, you can't, sweetheart," he'd say instead. "You just gotta keep goin'."
"I miss you so much," you'd sigh in that bleak, cracked, longing way, shattering Joel's heart into jagged shards every damn time.
"I miss you too, baby." Please come back. It's not too late.
Those calls don't come so much anymore, as you'd thrown yourself into your work, and time had pulled you further and further from the memory of your last visit to Austin.
Time.
Joel feels frozen in it, while it just keeps moving ahead for you.
The days he doesn’t call are boring and long, repetitive and lonely save for the time he gets with Sarah. He works the same jobs, eats the same food, drinks the same coffee. Feels the same anxious pang when you don’t call first and it has to be him, again. 
Sometimes he’ll go by your dad’s, but that’s less often now, ever since he and Tommy had finished up the renovations in the attic.
God, the attic job. That had proven to be an exceptionally awkward thing, considering it had come hot on the heels of the Inevitable Talk with your father. A talk that Joel had been expecting, but which had still turned out to be painfully uncomfortable nonetheless.
Although not necessarily what he’d imagined.
Your dad had shown up at his side door after dropping you at the airport. He hadn’t seemed angry, so Joel had led him in the door and offered him a beer, which your dad had accepted with a reverent, “Yeah.”
Yeah, Joel too.
Joel’d stared at the wood on the kitchen table, and like he couldn’t help himself, broke the silence before your dad could.
“How’d, uh - how’d she seem?”
Your dad’d sighed, taking a long sip of beer.
“Sad,” he’d said.
“Look - ”
But Joel’d been cut off by Sarah coming in the front door then, home right on time from soccer practice. Her eyes had widened as she’d assessed the scene, who Joel had been sitting across from.
“I’m…just gonna be in my room,” she’d muttered awkwardly.
“There’s mac and cheese on the stove," Joel'd told her.
Wasting no time, she'd snatched the entire pot off the hob and slinked quickly out of the room, shooting Joel this knowing glance on the way that seemed to say, good luck - sorry. And also - we'll talk later.
Your dad’s eyes had followed her out of the kitchen as she’d went.
“She’s a good kid,” he’d said.
“Yeah, she is."
"S'funny a thing, havin' kids..." your dad'd started.
Christ, here it comes.
"You wanna protect 'em," he'd continued, tone level but still managing to fill Joel with a healthy sense of dread. "But you also gotta trust 'em. And respect 'em enough to respect their decisions."
A beat.
"Even the wrong ones."
Joel'd cleared his throat, shifting in his seat uneasily.
"That what I am?" he'd asked. "The wrong decision?"
Your dad had shook his head.
"I wasn't talkin' about you."
That had Joel finally looking up from the table to stare at the man in confusion. What had he been suggesting then?
"She shouldn't be out there in California," your dad'd said with another shake of his head and a sip of his beer.
That had taken Joel aback momentarily.
"You don't think she can do it?" Joel'd asked, brows furrowing.
"No, she probably could. If she actually wanted to."
Joel'd just stared back at him, that same dumbfounded look on his face.
"She's determined," your dad had grumbled. "Too proud. She decided she wanted to go out there and do this and now she thinks she can't back out. I'm not sayin' she's not good. I'm just sayin' I don't think it's where her heart's at."
"So where's it at then?" Joel'd asked.
Your dad had just given Joel this knowing look.
You know where it is, dumbass.
"Right," Joel'd replied, around another mouthful of beer. Then, for the first time since he'd met your dad, Joel'd turned on his very best let-me-date-your-daughter Texan manners.
"Listen, sir, I wasn't tryna complicate anything here," he'd said. "The whole thing just - it got away from me."
That was something of an understatement.
"She said you tried to be responsible. What's'at mean?"
Joel'd taken another sip of beer, smiling in spite of himself at the thought of you trying to protect him.
"Guess it means I always knew where this was gonna go," Joel'd postulated. "She didn't wanna overthink things."
Joel'd bristled at the memory - "We don't have to overthink any of this, Joel" - so many months ago now, your arms wrapped around him from behind, face pressed into his back. Course, by then it had already been too late, Joel having already envisioned a whole new life for you after that first kiss on the deck - one where you never left, one where you stayed here with him, slotting into his life with ease. A cursed vision, one he'd known would never be.
How could he not have overthought things? Joel, unlike you, lived in the real world.
"That was your first mistake, buddy," your dad'd said with a shake of his head.
Didn't Joel know it. He'd nodded his agreement.
"You know somethin', Joel? I actually think you'd be real good for her. You're a good man - stable. And you got a lotta love for your kid."
Joel had waited for the inevitable "but" and your dad hadn't disappointed -
"But you gotta give her space now. If she wants to come back, she will. You understand?"
Yeah, he gets it.
Doesn't mean he's gonna listen.
So he doesn’t cross the street much these days.
He would lie and say he’s just been too busy with Sarah or Tommy or work but you’d know the truth if he ever bothered to tell you. 
He doesn’t go because it hurts. He doesn’t go because the driveway’s where he kissed you and your bedroom’s where his initials are carved into the dresser and the back deck’s where the whole damned ordeal began. 
The more time passes, the less he wants to think about any of it.
-
But then there's the call that comes today.
The droning of the buzz saw drowns out the sound of the phone ringing. It also drowns out Tommy's booming voice, calling Joel's name over and over.
"Joel!" he yells again, this time with a firm hand on Joel's shoulder where he works over the plywood, which finally gets the older Miller's attention.
"What?" Joel shouts back, glancing cautiously over his shoulder, voice rising over the metallic hum of the saw. But Tommy is giving him the signal to shut the thing off, phone in hand - which is what ultimately ends up holding Joel's attention.
He clicks off the saw, removing his protective goggles and repeating himself, quieter now - "What?"
"Phone's for you," Tommy says with a lop-sided grin. Easy enough to guess who's calling then.
"She called the damn work site?" Joel asks, surprised you'd managed to track them down. They're working a job up in Georgetown, some wealthy suburbanite paying big money for easy work.
Tommy just shrugs.
Joel snatches the phone from his brother and holds it up to his ear, with a gruff, "Hello?" before tuning into the crackling sound of music playing and glass clattering and voices chattering and you, loudly talking into the other end -
"Joel!" you say - almost shout. "Are you there, can you hear me? I'm at a payphone, the stupid cell phone died!"
He steps away from the work site, trying - on his end at least - to quiet some of the background noise.
"Yeah, yeah I can hear ya fine, are you okay?"
The midday calls are rare and your voice sounds so frantic - he can't help it; worry's the first place his mind goes.
"I got a job, Joel! I got an arc!" you say excitedly then, voice just barely rising over the clamorous bedlam behind you.
"You got a what, now?" Joel asks, sticking a finger in his one ear to hear you better.
"A three-episode arc on a TV show! Oh - shit - one sec - "
Some rustling on the other end as you disappear momentarily, and then a murmured, "Thanks" that sounds like you but far away, and then you're back with a, "You still there?"
Joel furrows his brows, trying to make sense of it all.
"Where're ya at right now?"
"I'm out celebrating!" you shriek. "Didn't you hear what I said?"
Not really, but -
"I - yeah I heard, three episodes, that's - that's amazing, sweetheart."
Then there's another voice cutting through the wire - male, drunk.
"Eyyyyy! Let me buy you a drink, baby girl! This is HUGE!"
Joel hears your responding giggle, along with the sound of fabric brushing against fabric (an embrace) and glass tapping glass (cheers).
"I'll be right there!" you tell the faceless voice.
"Whoz'at?" Joel grumbles, his grip on the phone tightening as he bites back the stupid, hot, festering jealousy suddenly brewing in his belly.
"Nobody - well, Adam - he works with my agent, they're throwing this like, brunch party thing for me."
Weird, because you've never mentioned him to Joel before.
She's not yours, idiot, he tells himself.
"Nice," is the best response he can come up with.
"Well, anyway, I just wanted you to be the first to know," you say then - your voice oozing devotion - but not enough to quell the twisted knife of envy digging bitterly in Joel's core.
"Seems like Adam already knew."
God-fucking-damnit.
Why'd he say that? Does he seriously think he's entitled to every morsel of information in your life? Over some kid you work with and that he doesn't even fucking know?
Apparently, yeah.
You're quiet for a moment and Joel would've wondered if the payphone had run out of minutes if not for the noisy bar din still echoing through the receiver.
"I meant the first person back home," you amend, and Joel kicks himself when he hears the tinge of hurt in your tone.
Joel clears his throat, instantly ashamed of the senseless reaction.
"Well, I - I'm glad you did, sweetheart," he says, trying his damndest to soften the edge in his voice.
"Okay - um, shit - it's asking me for more quarters, I'm all out. Can I call you tomorrow?"
"You can call me any time you want, darlin'."
"Bye, Joel."
"Bye - "
He's cut off as the line disconnects, out of time.
-
Sleep evades Joel that night.
Three episodes on a TV show. What would that mean? How long would that steal you from him? How many more months till you came home again?
He morosely ponders the thought with his head in his hands, hunched over where he sits on the edge of his bed, fingers dragging over the skin of his face as though he could scrape away the memory of the phone call like a pesky scab.
"Dad?"
Sarah's voices comes softly through his bedroom door, shaking him hastily out of his dreary reverie.
"You still up?" she asks, letting herself in the open door.
Joel shakes his head disapprovingly, offering her a soft smile.
"I should be askin' you that."
Should being the operative word. He should be attending to his daughter, not moping uselessly after you.
Instead, as ever, it's Sarah who's looking out for him, joining him on the edge of the bed and leaning into his side.
"You okay?" she asks, head on Joel's shoulder.
"Yeah," Joel mumbles, voice thick.
Keep it together, he tells himself. Sarah doesn't need to see you cry.
"Yeah, m'alright," he says, sounding anything but.
"Wow, well, I'm convinced," Sarah quips, wrapping her little arms around his waist and Joel can hear her rolling her eyes. "I know you talked to her today, she called here first; I told her where you guys were."
He should've known it was her who'd put you in touch with him. And man, the kid's too insightful for her own good. He's not sure where she gets that from, 'cause he doesn't think it's from him.
"I know it's sucky right now," she continues soothingly. "But it's gonna get better."
Joel clears his throat at the simple sentiment, trying to believe it.
"You think so?" he says, emotion coating his tone as he squeezes her in a little tighter against him.
"Yeah, I do," she responds, sitting up and away from him then. "Or, just a thought...you could be all romantic and actually go see her."
Joel's shaking his head before she can finish speaking - as if he hadn't already considered that dozens of times.
"And leave you here all alone? Come on."
They share a smirk but then Sarah shrugs.
"Just sayin'. I think you should do it."
His smile shifts to something more placating, willing her to understand how much more complicated things were than that.
"It's late, you should go to bed."
"Okay, but only if you do too."
"Deal."
-
He's dreaming again.
Of you, of course.
But it's not like the other times; you're not on your knees in front of him or sitting on his cock or bent over the twin bed under a canopy of glow-in-the-dark stars.
No, this time, you're locked in a tight embrace on the side of the interstate, as though you'd met him halfway somewhere at a lonely truck stop, hands interlocked behind his neck, while his grip your waist tightly. He's breathing in your scent, committing it to memory because he knows he'll have to leave again soon - always losing you, always saying goodbye.
Except...no. This time, there's something new. Dread is replaced by a sense of permanence as the truck stop melts away and there you both are again, safe in your driveway, bodies still entwined but never breaking. No incessant honking forcing you apart, no one-way flight waiting to take you away.
It doesn't have to end.
He jolts awake, the stand-up fan beside his bed cooling his clammy skin and making him shiver involuntarily.
Fuck it, he decides then.
He grabs the phone off the nightstand and makes a call.
Please be awake, please be awake, please be awake -
"'Lo?" Tommy's voice comes through the other end, gooey with sleep and laced with mild concern. Joel checks the time on his alarm clock - 2 a.m.
"Tommy, do I ask you for anything, ever?"
"Uh...no?"
Stupid, stupid, stupid, this is the stupidest thing you've ever fucking done -
"Can you watch Sarah for a few days?"
"Uh...why?"
"I'm goin' to California."
-
You took a call then you ran all day That clock goin' 110 I never said I'd get you back again Said "I ain't got time to make no mistakes" "Ain't got time to waste my brakes"
END.
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All of my works including Grumpy Sunshine and Taylor Swift Inspired Series! Bucky Barnes Masterlist Steve Rogers Masterlist Sam Wilson Masterlist Series Masterlist (Because Not Everything I Write Is Grumpy Sunshine or Taylor Swift Related)
Grumpy Sunshine Universe · Including Two Sides of The Same Coin, The Twin Flame, Grumpy Sunshine one-shots, and drabbles.
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halucynator · 7 months
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Hey babe! Absolutely adore your writing! Do you have any recs?
Thanks! And yes! I'm so glad you asked. There's a lot though so it's gonna be a bit long x
Theodore Nott
@cassiopeiasdaughter : an exceptional writer, their Theodore Nott fics based on midnight songs are the best! Wish them good luck on their uni exams and check out their awesome blog xx
Here are some of my personal favourites from their blog:
August: Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well.
Fearless: Based on the song fearless by Taylor Swift.
Maroon: A diary entry written during the War based on the song maroon by Taylor Swift.
Check out their other midnights collection entries!
@avalynlestrange: another great writer! one of the best angst writers on this platform in my opinion x they also write mattheo Riddle fics
These ones are my favourite:
@the0doreslover: in love with their Theo fics!
Foolish one: In which you know you’re being foolish in liking Draco but will you finally learn your lesson? Theodore certainly hopes you do.
In my head: In which Theodore Nott is the man of your dreams. Literally. Who is his?
My favourite one is Cooking class xx
Here are a few Theodore Nott fics from writers who's blogs aren't all about Theo xx
I think he knows: you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move
Now, I did some digging and @dreamcubed writes about other hp characters as well based on songs by Taylor Swift! Their work is amazing so go check them out! Sorry for the late mention, I just checked and realised that they have like a blog that revolves around hp characters xx
Electric touch: a cute guy stumbles into the coffee shop you work at and it alters your brain chemistry.
I thought you knew:“i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”
Want you: Based on the following prompts: Why do you always look at me like that?” “Like what?” “Like you… Want me.”  and "he doesn't even deserve to be breathing the same air as you"
Butterfly Love: Despite witnessing the death of his mother and being forced to grow under the watch of his Death Eater father, Theodore Nott is living proof that love and care bloom even in the most barren conditions. Maybe, they flourish even more.
Mattheo Riddle
@suugarbabe: their fics are absolutely magnificent. I recommend their saving grace series x the rest parts can be found on their blog x
These are some of my personal favourites:
Always: You & Theo have been best friends since year 1. Everyone things you and Theo are going to end up together but both of you like different people.
Drawings: based on prompts 'i never knew that about you...it's cute' and 'i can't believe I've never seen this side of you before'
Oblivious: contains smut Based on prompts "Are you really so oblivious?" And "Can I kill him now?"
@happilykrispypirate: another fabulous writer! Their mattheo angst fics are like the best x the mistake and don't touch her are my favourite xx
Some of my favourite mattheo fics are listed below x:
Black Quill: You never liked Umbridge, but who did? The woman was miserable and cruel. Her power in the school grew day after day.
Mattheo finds you crying alone: Imagine crying alone in the Astronomy Tower, hoping to escape everyone but Mattheo finds you
Torment : Reader is constantly bullied. Mattheo saves her from the bullies.
Everything and nothing: 1 2: where mattheo brings along a girl none of your group is fond of. Especially you. And the timing of it all is horrible.
Draco Malfoy
@talesofadragon: they have amazing fics and their fluff stories are the best! Check them out for Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes fics as well if you're interested xx
These are my favourite Draco fics by them. Their Draco masterlist is here.
Even if it's dark: Summary: Despite being raised in a traditional pureblood household with an overly abusive father, Y/N Y/L/N teaches Draco that light can exist even in the darkest of places.
Mittens: When Draco is in a foul mood and unwilling to disclose his problems, Y/N resorts to her animagus form to get him to talk. 
@fallingforfictionalcharacterss: whenever I feel like I'm going to go back to my Draco phase I read their fics! Another really good angst writer x Their fics are so cool and I love them xx some of their fics I love:
Falling: Where you are falling for the one boy who is known to break every girl´s heart.
False friends and true love: Where you get into a fight with your best friend and she reveals your feelings for a certain boy in front of everybody.
Ruin your life: Why would you kiss out of all the people the boy you hate the most in this world?
@dreamingonfilm: another great writer! Their fluff fics are my favorite! These are some I love by them:
Pretending: in which you watch Draco as he falls out of love with you
Cramps: In which Draco takes care of you whilst you’re on your period.
Bruises: 1 2: After years of being bullied by Draco, you finally stand up for yourself. However, you left him with more than a bloodied cheek and a bruised jaw.
Some other fics that I love:
Amortentia: the rest parts can be found on that post. Summary: Pansy forces a secret out of you, and you’re strongly debating which curse/jinx to use on her.
Unforgivable: Where y/n gets poisoned because of draco's behaviour
Taylor Swift
This is random but if you want someone to talk to Taylor Swift about, check out @annaisabookworm. They're super sweet and supportive and their blog is about Taylor Swift xx I love their posts x
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dem-obscure-imagines · 2 months
Text
You're So Timeless | Vol. 2
Steve Rogers x Reader
Fandom: MCU
Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year. 
Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.
Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. This is PART 2. Part 1 is linked HERE.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.
Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)
Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female 
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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
159 notes · View notes
petitemistletoe · 1 year
Text
The Concert
Pairing: James Potter x Reader
Warnings: smut, angst, dom! James x Regulus, some hate fucking sort of? enjoy this!
Word Count: 5K+
A/N: This is a part 2 to Hate, hope you all enjoy it :)
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“I have such a good idea!” You said with a large grin on your face as you dropped yourself down at the table in between Marlene and Remus. 
“Where did you come from?” Sirius asked, turning fully around to look behind him. 
“Stayed to help Binns after history,” you grinned, helping yourself to a large piece of the meaty pie that was on the table for dinner.
“What’s your idea?” Lily asked, sensing the excitement radiating off you.
“I heard from Yaz who heard from Dorcus who heard from Daniel who heard from Michael who heard from his cousin who lives in Soho that Queen is doing a pub concert in London on Friday and we have to go!” You beamed. 
“I don’t care for Queen.” Remus shrugged.
“The Queen sings?” Marlene cocked an eyebrow. 
“No! The band Queen! Freddy Mercury, Roger Taylor, Brian May, John Deacon. Come on! They’re the biggest band in the world right now! How can you guys not want to go?” You were severely displeased with your friends’s lack of enthusiasm. 
“Hey! I know I would love to hear the Queen perform. I’ve never been to a muggle concert before.” James said, getting up from his place across the table and squeezing himself between you and Sirius so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders. 
“It’s just Queen, Prongs, and your opinion doesn’t count you would do anything to keep your girlfriend happy.” Remus rolled his eyes as he looked at you and James comfortably seated together. 
“Uh, Remus? She’s not the only one who would be happy to see Queen.” Lily said with a grin, pointing her fork at Sirius. Remus turned to look at Sirius who was red faced with excitement and had somehow transfigured his sweater into a Queen t-shirt.
“Oh no,” Remus sighed, “don’t tell me you’re a Queen fan? Padfoot! What happened to taste?”
“I don’t know why you don’t like them, Moony. They’re amazing and you’re a snob. Also I’m excited for us to listen to a great band, get pissed, and snog uncontrollably.” Sirius crossed his arms and glowered at Remus. 
“I don’t want to go if all you’re gonna do is snog,” Lily sighed. 
“Yeah! I don’t want to watch the Potters and the Lupins snog all night. I’m out,” Marlene said, tossing her napkin on the table and crossing her arms across her chest in a pout. 
“I’ll come if I can bring Roman. We’re supposed to go on a date but I’ve been wanting a dastardly little rendez-vous in a pub bathroom.” Mary shrugged, standing from the table and making her way over to the Hufflepuff table.
“Hold on, what makes you think I would take James’s last name?” You asked. 
“Yeah! What if Moony and I wanted to hyphenate?” Sirius protested. Before Remus could rebut, Yasmine made her way over to the table and grinned at Marlene.
“Marls are you going to the Queen concert in London? I’d love to see you there.” She smiled at Marlene again who could only offer a goofy wave and a nod in return, her eyes trained on Yaz’s ass as she walked out of the great hall. 
“Okay so what is the official headcount for the concert then? Who’s coming?” James asked, surveilling the group.
“We’re going,” Sirius said quickly, sending Remus a look. Remus rolled his eyes and nodded. 
“I’ll come!” Peter said, his mouth still full of mashed potatoes.
“Roman and I will be there,” Mary said with a nod as she walked past the table, arm in arm with Roman. 
“Marlene, you coming?” You asked. Marlene still had a dumbstruck look on her face as her fingers ghosted over her shoulder where Yaz had rested her hand.
“What about you Evans?” James asked, looking at the final member of the group who had yet to respond
“No! I’ll be the,” Lily took a second to count the people in the group, “ninth wheel. I’d rather stay back and do almost anything else.”
“Peter will be alone. You can go with him,” Sirius offered but to everyone’s surprise Peter shook his head and squeaked, 
“I’ll be going with Dorcas.”
Lily looked like she wanted to die. You cleared your throat and sent a look Lily’s way.
“Lily, why don’t you bring Severus?” You offered her a gentle smile and you slapped one hand against James’ mouth and the other against Sirius’. You could feel both of their mouths moving against your hands but you weren’t letting go any time soon. You forgot, however, that there was another person in the group who despised Snape just as much as James and Sirius and you were out of hands. 
“Why the hell would we want Snape at a concert that I don’t even want to go to?” Remus said with a look of disgust. 
“Yeah!” Sirius said after biting your hand. You snatched your hand back and wiped it on Sirius’s shirt with a scowl, “That little snake will probably bring my brother too just to piss me off.”
“You think Regulus will be there?” James asked. You and James hadn’t really spoken about your incident with Regulus a few months ago where Regulus had watched you and James fuck. You tried to bring it up a few times but James shut it down, though you could’ve sworn you heard James murmur ‘Regulus’ under his breath a few times during sex. Regulus had been avoiding you and the Marauders like the plague since. 
“Regulus would never be caught somewhere with that many muggles.” Remus shook his head. 
“Lily is our friend so we have to baseline tolerate her friends. Lily why don’t you ask Severus if he’d like to come.” You said. Lily shook her head and sighed,
“I should stay home.”
“Lily you love Queen. Either come with us on your own or ask Severus.” You placed your hand over Lily’s and she made a face, 
“Your hand is wet.” 
“Sirius.” You rolled your eyes. Your other hand was still over James’s mouth and you finally looked at him and he smiled at you with his lust blown eyes. You moved your hand down so it was on James’ tie and pulled him up. 
“We’re going now,” you said, looking at the group, “I’ll get us twelve tickets. We’ll talk more at breakfast tomorrow.”
“Walk him like a dog!” Sirius called after you both. You led James to the prefects bathroom and started undressing. James fell back into the steamy, bubbling baths and you set yourself down on top of him. He was kissing up your neck as you seated yourself on James’s cock. 
James moaned into your open mouth as he helped move you, guide you up and down on his cock. 
“God, I love you so much baby,” James was babbling, the way he usually did when he was close. He was moving you faster and faster and he choked out a desperate “don’t stop!” His hand was fisted in your hair and he stumbled out a “Regulus,” before he came. He took several deep breaths, resting his forehead on yours and smiling. 
“I think we need to talk about something, James.” You said, getting off him and sitting next to him. 
“Alright? What’s up?”
“Have you realized that since the incident with Regulus-”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” 
“I know. But I think we need to. Every time we’ve had sex in the last two months you’ve moaned Regulus’s name. I think you want him James.” You said. You could practically see the gears turning in James’ brain.
“I…this is really confusing.” James shook his head. 
“You don’t need to do anything, James. Just think about what you want.”
“I want you!”
“I know you do. But you can want more than one thing.” You said with a small smile. You and James did not discuss it further.
Finally, Friday was upon you all and you were more than excited to see Queen. You had been ready for hours and you were sitting up in the marauder’s dorm watching the boys get ready. Remus was pouting as he sat on his bed wearing a normal pair of jeans, sweater, and tennis shoes. Sirius, on the other hand, was going all out. He was wearing a tight pair of trousers and a leather jacket with no shirt underneath. He was currently lining his eyes with a dark eyeliner and snapping at Remus, 
“Moony so help me god if you don’t change I’m going to hit you.”
“I don’t even want to go!” Remus protested. You sat down on the bed next to Remus and laid your head on his shoulder, 
“Remus. Just change so you can shut Sirius up.” 
“Fine!” Remus got up and started rifling through his trunk.
“Where’s my boyfriend?” You asked, looking around the dorm. Peter was looking between two graphic tees that his sister must have sent. One was for the Beatles and one was for Bowie.
“Which one do I wear?” Peter asked, obviously bewildered. 
“Bowie.” You nodded.
“I’m here!” James said, walking out of the bathroom. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a smart looking sweater, and a leather jacket. He was also walking uncomfortably, presumably finally breaking in the pair of doc Martens that you had bought him for Christmas a year back. 
“You look good,” you said with a smile. 
“So do you,” James winked at you. You were dressed how you assumed most girls at the concert would be, a Queen shirt that Mary had cut up for you, a leather skirt, and your own doc Martens. 
Remus had finally changed and was now in a stiff pair of jeans, a thin long sleeve t shirt and a leather jacket. You had never seen so many wizards in leather. There was a knock at the door and you knew it could only be the other girls, finally ready. You let them in and Mary ran immediately to Sirius, helping him finish his eyeliner. Mary was dressed like you, with a cut up t shirt and a pleated mini skirt. 
“Mary, is that your skirt from third year?” You asked. 
“Yes! I needed a skirt I could cut shorter and Marlene knew a spell to expand the waistline!” Mary beamed. Marlene and Lily were dressed a little more conservatively. Lily was wearing a v-neck sweater and a pair of jeans and was twisting her ring on her finger nervously. Marlene was wearing leather pants and a tight top that rode up at times to show off her toned stomach. Marlene reached up to grab a flask that was sitting on a high shelf and Peter gasped and said,
“Marlene! Is that belly button piercing?” 
Marlene blushed bright red and immediately tried to pull her shirt down. 
“Ah ah! Too late McKinnon!” James said and laughed. 
“How did I not notice that before? Did you guys see that?” Lily said, turning and looking at you and Mary, who both shook your heads. 
“Yaz did it over the break,” Marlene mumbled, her face staying that same unnatural shade of red. 
“So Lily,” you could sense that Marlene was getting uncomfortable so you changed the subject, “is Severus coming?”
“Ah, sort of,” Lily shrugged, “he’s going with a few other Slytherins. Said he’ll see me there.” 
“Who are the other Slytherins, Evans?” Sirius asked, his eyes even more piercing now against the thick black eyeliner. 
“I think Barty and Regulus.” Lily sighed. 
“Oh my god! My damn brother! Get over here Moony! You’re wearing eyeliner.” Sirius commanded. 
“What? No!” Remus protested. 
“If Regulus is going to be there I need to make him as angry as possible. Seeing my boyfriend at a concert with thick eyeliner will do it.” Sirius snapped. 
“Just let him do it, Remus. He’ll poke out your eye before he backs down.” James said with a head shake. So twenty minutes later, Remus’s eyes were thickly lined and you all were on your way to Hogsmeade to apparate into London. You and James apparated first, since Yaz had left the tickets at will call for you and as a half-blood you were one of the few in the group who were familiar with the muggle world. 
“Hiya,” you greeted the man at will call, “picking up tickets. They were left by Yasmine Patel.”
“What’s the name on them?” The man asked. You gave the man your first and last name and he shook his head, “Sorry. I don’t have them under that name.”
“What!” You looked at James a little panicked. 
“Is it under Potter?” James tried. 
“Yep. Enjoy the show.” The man handed you the tickets. 
“Why would Yaz leave them under your name? She told me about the tickets.” You said, taking your ticket from James as you waited for the others to arrive. 
“Look again at the name on them,” James chuckled. He handed you the sticky note that was stuck on the tickets. Written there was your first name but instead of your last name there was Potter.
“Oh she’s hilarious.” You said with an eyeroll, crumpling up the sticky note. The rest of the group made their way over and took their tickets. 
“What’s that in your hand?” Sirius asked you as you made your way into the pub. It was pretty crowded but your large group was able to spread itself over a few tables comfortably. Marlene ran off almost immediately to see Yasmine, Mary and Roman had disappeared, and you could see Peter and Dorcas chatting with a few Hufflepuffs. Seated at the table was just you and James, Remus and Sirius, and Lily. Lily offered to grab a round of drinks first, but you knew was looking around for Severus. It didn’t seem like any of the Slytherins had made their way to the pub yet. 
“Oh, nothing. Look what Yaz left the tickets under at will call.” You handed Sirius the crumpled paper against your better judgement. Sirius immediately started laughing and said,
“Mrs. Potter! Thank you so much for arranging this visit!”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Lupin.” You teased back. Lily returned with a tray of drinks for you all as you heard a man tap a few times on the microphone. 
“Hello everyone, thank you for coming to our pub. All shots of well liquor are half off for the rest of the night. Without further ado, Queen.” The man stood back to let the band run on stage. Sirius started screaming at the top of his lungs and grabbed Remus by the hand, running to the stage. 
It was only 11:30 when Queen left the stage and everyone had had a great time, even Remus who nodded his head a few times during Get Down, Make Love. You all agreed to stay and continue drinking as a smaller local band took the stage to play some background music for the pub. 
Remus and Sirius disappeared at one point in the evening and they returned to the table with Sirius's eye makeup smudged, Sirius was wiping his mouth crudely with the back of his hand, and Remus had a dumb little grin. Sirius took his seat back at the table as Remus disappeared off.
“Did Severus not come, Lily?” You asked. You were secretly a little upset that you hadn’t run into Regulus again. 
“No, I don’t think so.” Lily said, a little crestfallen. 
“Don’t worry,” Remus said, holding a tray of shots that he got from the bar for you all, “Snape, Reg, and Barty all have a table near the bar. Don’t worry, Lily, they’re as enchanting as ever.” 
“Oh!” Lily shot up and ran over to the table. 
“If they come over here, I swear.” Sirius said, grabbing his and Lily’s shots off the table. 
“You think Regulus will come over here?” James asked. You could detect the glimmer of hope in his voice. 
“Why?” Sirius teased, “Got a crush? Better watch out Mrs. Potter.” 
“So,” James said hastily, “are we going to take this shot or what?”
“Sooner is better than later,” Remus said, nodding his head over to the group of Slytherins that were following Lily back over to your table. You all clinked the glasses together and took the shot, chasing it with sips of your soda, or in Sirius’s case chasing it with Lily’s shot. 
“Look who’s here!” Lily said with a nervous smile. Snape was glowering at the group as was Barty. Regulus was only glaring at you. 
“Reg,” Sirius said coldly. 
“Sirius. You look like Bellatrix.” Regulus said, He hadn’t meant it to be funny but you all burst out laughing.
“You do!” Remus said between gasps for air. 
“I’m going to go buy,” Sirius took a minute to count, “eight shots for myself.” 
“Don’t be like that, Black!” Barty called after Sirius as he took a seat next to Remus at the table. The energy was a little uncomfortable at first but you quickly learned that the Slytherins had no experience in holding muggle liquor and they were very, very drunk. But, you all were very drunk to the point were words were being slurred. 
“I can get the next round,” you said, standing up and immediately stumbling. Regulus reached out to steady you. 
“Thanks Mrs. Potter!” Remus called. 
“I’ll help,” Regulus said, following you to the bar. 
“Thanks Reg. You know, you’re not so bad.” You said with a giggle, reaching up to ruffle Regulus’s hair. 
“I hate you,” Regulus said. He had been chuckling so you chuckled back but his face became stony as he looked at you again, “I hate you so much. So much. It eats away at me. It makes my stomach hurt. Every time I see you I think about how much I want you dead.” 
“Regulus,” you breathed in sharply and wrapped your fingers around the wand that was stuck in the waistband of your pants. You didn’t want to think about the consequences of using magic in front of a giant group of muggles but if Regulus really did mean you harm, the consequences of not using magic would be much worse. 
“Everything okay over here?” James asked, his hand on your lower back. 
“Fine,” you said, your heart still hammering inside your chest, “I’m going to get some air.” You walked out the back area of the bar where a few people were out there smoking cigarettes and talking on the payphone. There was a couple that were furiously making out and looked like they were near the point of stripping layers. You looked a little closer and saw it was Mary and Roman, unsurprisingly. You leaned back against the wall and fished a cigarette from your pocket and started patting up and down your pants for your lighter. 
“Fuck,” you cursed, looking around to see if anyone around looked kind enough to lend their lighter. The scarce few smokers didn’t seem very friendly and more and more people were leaving the creepy back area by the minute. 
“Need a light?” you heard a voice ask. You looked up gratefully but immediately drew your wand when you saw that it was Regulus. He was holding out a lighter but you refused, pointing your wand directly in his face.
“Get away from me, Regulus.”
“You didn’t let me explain,” Regulus took a step towards you but you snapped, 
“Don’t come closer.” 
“Okay,” Regulus said, his hands up. “I hate you because I’m so jealous. I’m so jealous of you and James.”
“Me and James?” You said, lowering your wand slightly. 
“I just,” Regulus pressed his fingers to his temples, “I haven’t been able to think since that night in the history classroom.”
“Oh,” your heart was thudding in your chest but for a different reason now. James made his way outside and said,
“What’s going on?” He looked between you and Regulus and saw your wand drawn and he stood in front of you, drawing his own wand, “What did you do, Regulus?”
“James.” You finally lowered your wand and put your hand on James’ arm. “He wants you.”
“What?” James looked at you like you were insane. 
“He wants you.” You repeated. James looked back and saw Regulus’s expression. It was odd, Regulus had a look of yearning and desire and a it was a little pathetic but you thought it was also kind of attractive. And it was certainly having a similar effect on James. His brown eyes were lust blown and he was breathing heavier than usual. He lowered his wand and looked at Regulus, 
“Is that true?”
“Yes,” Regulus nodded. Before you could discuss anything further, Sirius stumbled out, laughing drunkenly. 
“Hey, so I,” he paused as he took stock of the situation, “everything okay?”
“Fine.” You said quickly. 
“Anyway. Peter threw up everywhere so they’re kicking us out of the pub. You all ready to apparate back?” 
You all apparated back to Hogsmeade. There was an odd energy between you, James, and Regulus but everyone else seemed to be too drunk to notice. Sirius was practically hanging on you with his arm heavy over your shoulders. You had your arm around Sirius’ waist and you were using all your strength to keep him upright as he spouted his drunken nonsense. 
“Oh Mrs. Potter you’re so good to me.” Sirius giggled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Oh Mr. Lupin I wish you would walk on your own.” You responded. You saw in your peripheral vision that Regulus made a face when Sirius called you ‘Mrs. Potter’. 
“I think I can get him upstairs,” Remus said, pulling Sirius’ arm over his own shoulders and heading upstairs towards the Gryffindor dorms, Peter trailing behind them. Barty and Snape made their back downstairs towards the Slytherin dorms and you, James, and Regulus were left alone in the corridor. 
“We should talk,” James said. 
“Let’s get out of the corridor before we get a detention.” You said. James nodded and pulled out the marauders map.
“Looks like the charms classroom is open.” James grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the charms classroom. You stretched your own hand out to Regulus but he shook his head and followed a few paces behind. 
“What did you look at?” Regulus asked, looking over at the map that James was pushing back into his pocket. 
“Just a map,” James said quickly. You made it to the charms classroom and you sat on top of one of the tables and just watched James and Regulus. 
Regulus was nervous, you could practically hear his heavy heartbeat. James, curiously, did not seem very nervous. He was looking at Regulus with a calm and even expression.
“What did you say to my girlfriend?” He asked. 
“What?” Regulus was gasping for breath. He looked uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of James’ dark eyes. 
“You must have said something to her to make her draw her wand at the bar,” James seemed completely calm but you could see that his knuckles were white as he tightly gripped the edge of a desk. 
“I, I…” Regulus was just gaping and struggling to form thoughts. 
“He told me he hated me.” You said. 
“That’s unacceptable,” James shook his head. “Take your shirt off.” He said it so suddenly and which such force that you had your fingers on the hem of your own shirt before you realized that James was talking to Regulus, not to you. Regulus tore his shirt off and you took a moment to appreciate his delicate, blemishless skin. His skin was so fair you could almost see every single blue vein underneath. Regulus looked back up at you before looking back at James, waiting for the next command. 
“Take your panties off,” James said to you this time. You obeyed, pulling the red panties off and holding them in your hand. James walked over to you and took them in his own hands. He held them up to his nose and sniffed before focusing his attention back to Regulus.
“She smells good, Regulus. So good.” 
“Can I,” Regulus wet his lips and cleared his throat, “Can I taste?”
“On your knees.” James nodded and Regulus dropped to his knees. James walked over to you and stuck two of his fingers deep inside you. You gasped and grasped James’ wrist in surprise. He didn’t keep his fingers inside you for long and he took them out almost as quickly as they were in. He walked over and held his outstretched fingers in front of Regulus’ lips. Regulus wrapped his lips around James’ fingers and sucked like his life depended on it. James grabbed Regulus’ jaw roughly and pushed his fingers down deeper into Regulus’ mouth. Regulus took them well at first but James pushed his fingers farther and Regulus began to gag and his eyes were starting to water but he showed no other signs on resistance. 
“Good,” James said, a little breathless, as he removed his fingers. Regulus had a little bit of spit rolling down his chin as he kept his eyes trained on James. You felt soaking wet at the whole display and you shut your legs and started rubbing them together, trying to find some friction. Regulus’ eyes shot over to you then back to James. James then looked over at you. 
“I’m sorry, darling,” he said, walking over to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve been neglecting you.” He sunk down his knees and carefully parted your legs. He sent a look back at Regulus before diving into your pussy. His tongue entered and exited you quickly as his nose bumped up against your clit. Your fingers reached for his hair and you locked eyes with Regulus. Regulus was studying you like a painting as you moaned and bucked against James’ face. James added his fingers and pushed his mouth up to your clit and you were done for, panting and moaning until you came. James came back up and kissed you, his hand in your hair this time. He broke away and rested his forehead on yours, just staring at you. He stretched his arm out behind him and snapped his fingers at Regulus. 
“Come here.” He said, without even looking over at him. Regulus scampered over and sat on his knees again, looking up at James. 
“What do you want?” James asked Regulus, finally turning away from you. 
“You,” Regulus responded, his eyes big and starry. 
“Just me?”
“Just you.”
“Well you can’t have just me,” James said, gesturing to you, “we’re sort of a package deal.”
“I don’t want her,” Regulus pouted. 
“Hey!” James slapped Regulus across the face, ”watch your mouth.” 
“If it means I can have you, I’ll have her too,” Regulus said, swallowing against the lump in his throat. You felt awkward, uncomfortable, like you were intruding on a very private moment between James and Regulus. 
“It’s not entirely dependent on your terms,” James exhaled through his nose.
“No, no! I can be good. So good I swear,” Regulus said, sticking two of his own fingers in his mouth to wet them before sticking them inside you. You gasped and looked rapidly between James and Regulus. “I’ll be so good!” Regulus repeated, using his free hand to pull James pants down and spitting in his free hand before stroking James. 
Regulus was very talented with his hands, as evidenced by yours and James’ simultaneous moans. Regulus made you cum quickly and he pulled his fingers out of you to focus his attention on James. You got up off the table and joined Regulus, taking the tip of James’ cock into your mouth and kitten licking it. James was looking at you both, beneath him, with lust blown eyes. You outstretched your hand and gently pushed Regulus’ mouth towards James’ cock. Regulus took James into his mouth and you could hear him control his breathing as he took James as much as could. James was rougher with Regulus then he was with you and you could tell Regulus was trying to control his gag reflex but James was borderline fucking Regulus’ face. 
“James,” you said softly, putting your hand on James’ stomach to slow him, “be gentle.” James slowed his movements and let Regulus pull off and take a gasping breath. 
“I’m sorry,” James panted, “your mouth just felt so fucking good oh my god.” James ran a hand through his hair. 
“Don’t be.” Regulus said, “It was hot.” 
You were overcome for a moment and you pulled Regulus in and kissed him. Regulus was shocked at first but he kissed you back. It was sweet and gentle, lots of lips and tongue and soft breathy moans. You broke away and you pulled James down to your level. You gently pushed Regulus and James closer together until James finally crossed the distance and kissed Regulus. This was rougher, harder. More teeth and light biting and desperate moans. Regulus and James pulled away and James said, 
“I want to try something.”
“Anything for you,” Regulus responded. James positioned Regulus so he was above you and Regulus pushed into you. Regulus’ body was a contrast of yours. His sharp contours against your soft ones. James watched as Regulus fucked you. Then, James pushed himself into Regulus. Regulus released a strangled moan and practically collapsed on top of you, his face in your neck so you could hear his moans. You locked eyes with James and James leaned over Regulus’ body to kiss you. 
Regulus came first, inside you, an action that you would think about later. You came shortly after still around Regulus’s cock and you were far overstimulated but Regulus couldn’t pull out of you as James was still chasing his own orgasm. James finally came, pulling out Regulus quickly and cumming all over Regulus’ back. Regulus pulled out of you and you all just laid in the charms classroom for a few minutes, breathing and savoring the silence. 
“Sirius is going to be so mad when he finds out about this,” you said, chuckling at the shocked expression of the two men in front of you. 
Taglist: @skyesayshi
1K notes · View notes
anika-ann · 4 months
Text
Back and Forth - part 1
Part 1 - Snap Back
Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 7400
Chapter summary: 
In which the mission goes to hell and you and Steve clash. Again.
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Series masterlist
Warnings: blood, canon-typical violence, mention of gunshot wounds, hints of unhealthy relationship to pain, mention of death, some angst
A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance
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Steve Rogers was a very large man. Over two hundred pounds of muscle, over six feet three tall, he towered and loomed and hovered above everything and everyone. And yet, his body seemed too small to contain the huge ball of righteous anger, too small to contain the magnitude of the jerk he was being at the moment.
It must have been one of his greatest talents.
And you understood. You understood why he was pacing around, his face the perfect storm with lightning flashing from his eyes, his voice thundering; the mission was a failure, fire and destruction left behind without the important data retrieved. Hell, you understood a little too well how much of that was your fault therefore he had every right to be angry with you.
And yet. Yet, you couldn’t comprehend how that supposedly righteous man spitted around words full of rage when he was to blame himself too.
He was the one to pull you out. He was the one to shake you and break your concentration before your spectre, able to waltz behind locked doors without a key, could deliver the drive to another agent. He was the one to make you snap back, your astral projection dissipating.
Yes, your spectre had been barely walking. Yes, it had got shot in the gut and you really damn felt it. Yes, you – it, really – had been hanging on a tread, with you already at peace with the fact that once you’d snap back, you’d wake up in a hospital bed, because your body wouldn’t handle the strain. Yes, maybe you would have failed anyway, snapping back before you could do what you were supposed to. But now you’d never know, would you?
Because Steven Grant Rogers, Mr. Captain America with the ego of the size of his very moniker, couldn’t have handled you straying from his explicit order to get out earlier.
You were still shaky on your feet, barely having beaten your dizziness and having been walking the fine line of consciousness for way too long, hurting like hell the whole time, but good god, did you have the energy to fight that blonde disaster screaming you down. Especially since he was doing so in front of everyone as you remained seated on the stretcher and kept pulling at the i.v. with custom-made saline to get it from your arm and make the situation at least a bit less humiliating for you.
The audacity. The audacity it had to take for him to call you reckless and scold you for not disappearing faster despite the fact there had been another set of files that caught you eye and needed to be copied. His utter confidence that his plan was as flawless as the first kiss in the early era Taylor Swift songs; confidence that you would have got out safely and the Hydra agent would have never caught you off guard if you just listened to your Captain.
Well fuck your Captain.
You knew you were a failure. You knew that in the end, you were to blame for not getting the intel out in time before the base blown up, the flash drive lying somewhere in the corridor abandoned. Tony Stark might like to tell you that with your abilities defied the basic laws of physics, namely the law of conservation of matter and energy, but you didn’t defy them that much. You couldn’t carry things back by simply grabbing them as the spectre and snapping back to your real body; you had tried countless times, but that wasn’t how things worked, even if you wanted them to – and surely Captain Rogers did as well.
But he was the one to make you snap back. And he was able to do that, because despite the poorly masked hate he appeared to feel towards you at times, he still often made the strategic decision to be the one protecting your actual body; your paraconscious, softly levitating body, completely vulnerable to an attack. Apparently, he was the only one who could be trusted to do it after all.
Whoever called him a golden boy and actually meant it had to be an idiot.  
“You should have let me do it! I would have been able to get it to Lincoln or someone else!” you argued, hands pushing at the stretcher to stand up at last, wincing at the ghost of a sharp pain tearing at your abdomen. Never mind that, that was nothing new – Rogers’ unsolicited attack and complete lack of accountability were.
He only scoffed at your argument, crossing his arms on his stupidly wide chest. The bragger. The impossible cannot-do-wrong arse-
“Would you? You were going to pass out! I know the signs by now-”
“So what?!”
“So what?!” he echoed on full volume, throwing his arm out just as wildly as the whole tantrum. “I carried you out of there because you couldn’t walk!”
How dared he-
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned regret, lowering your voice as you finally managed to rise to your feet. “I must have been such a terrible imposition to your superstrength!”
“That’s not the problem and you know it!”
Then what was his problem, you wanted to ask, but you knew that question was futile. You knew the answer already and it was annoyingly fitting to a considerably newer Talor Swift song: it was you. You were the problem he had. And the even bigger problem was that he couldn’t have you delivered back express to Coulson, because lately it seemed this team needed someone with the ability to project more than the new SHIELD did. He was stuck with you; with your apparently incapable ass.
“Do I?!” you questioned. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t just walk off a massive blood loss!”
Rogers winced as you spitted out the words; good. Maybe he’d think twice before yelling at you next time when the Quinjet hadn’t even touched the ground yet and everyone could watch your failure in HD since he served it to them on a silver platter.
You winced too as you breathed in deeply and fresh claws of pain dug into your abdomen again; really not good. But not unusual, even as there was no trace of the bullet wound on your body – because it wasn’t your actual body that got hit, not really. Still, the pain remained.
Yet, that was nothing to stop you from staring at Rogers as he glared at you with hard eyes, leaning forward, jaw so damn tense you might cut yourself on the tendons if you touched it.  
“You wouldn’t have suffered-- that if you’d have just followed orders!”
“Oh really?! Get over yourself, oh Mighty Captain!”
“Get over-” he repeated as if he couldn’t comprehend you just said that, breathing in deeply to ground himself and failing spectacularly since his voice was still full of accusation. “You should have brought us intel and instead we have nothing!”
You stepped forward to get your retort across almost as quickly as you felt everything in you recoil in guilt – because Rogers was right. Of course, he was right. And you knew that. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up and take a damn nap or maybe just wake up from this fucked up dream but you couldn’t, could you?
You could barely do anything.
“Well, I’m sorry! Okay?! I couldn’t do it and I’m fucking sorry! I know I fucked up! I should have pushed through more, I know, and you have no idea how pissed I am at me! But maybe I would have been just fine, if--- you shouldn’t have stopped me!”
“I wouldn’t have to snap you back if you just did what you were supposed to do!”
You grinded your teeth. Stupid, big-headed pig-headed supersoldier, if he had had any idea-
“What were you going to say just now?” he demanded, standing even taller than before, the mask of anger and disappointment shifting towards challenge.
Fight me. Yell back. Try telling me I’m wrong, when you know I’m not.
Goddamn him. He was so damn self-assured, so overconfident it would get him killed one day and you’d be there to watch like a useless dumbass, because you couldn’t do the one thing every single agent on this team should do: have your teammates’ back.
But you couldn’t tell him that. You couldn’t.
Your shoulders sagged, exhaustion washing over you.
“Doesn’t matter,” you said, minding your volume even as most Avengers and other agents got the memo and tried to give you as much privacy as possible. Bless that useless gesture. “I told you, I’m sorry. I know I need to learn to push myself more despite the pain when the stakes are high, but it’s…” You caught a flash of a new emotion you couldn’t decipher in his eyes and you looked away, scoffing, frustration flaring up again. “Why am I even telling you, what would you know about that, huh?”
What would the perfectly mighty walk-it-off Captain know about you peasants and your struggles. Ziltch. He was perfection personified, never wrong, never weak, never-
The sharp intake of breath had you snap your gaze back – and your heart stumbled in your chest. One brief glance at him and you regretted your words instantly. For one, you were too well-aware of the fact that they were bullshit. For two, you might as well wave a red cloth in front of an already enraged bull.
Steve Rogers bristled, teeth practically bared like those of an animal; he snarled like one too, but it was the tone that had cut you. The tone said so much more than his actual words and that message was like a muleta for you for a change.
“Is that what you think? You think I don’t feel pain?!”
“Maybe you don’t feel anything at all!” you snapped, throwing your arms up, gritting your teeth and closing your fists at the sharp bite at your belly at the movement. For fuck’s sake- “It sure as hell looks like it to me, to everyone! Especially since you’re yelling at me right now! I know I fucked up but it’s not easy on me either!”
The realization that he was acting like an asshole must have been quick – he froze for but a split second – but the fact he cared little for that was even faster, his counterattack coming in hot.
“Well, allow me to correct you, agent, I do feel pain – and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body because I only have one!”
And you laughed. The burst of sardonic laugh tasted like hysteria on your tongue, actual tears burning in your eyes.
Switch it off. Switch it off as you pleased. God, that was funny. That was hilarious. So hilarious you wanted to cry. You pretended that the palm that you lifted to your face was to muffle the laughter and not to check whether some of your tears didn’t escape.
“Ooooh, ohohohooo, you think being me is so great, don’t you? Walk a mile in my shoes, Captain, we’ll see how you’ll like it!” you spat, laughing again. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t only walk, would you? You’d fucking dance en pointe and throw in a few grands jetés en tournant just for the kicks, huh? Because you are Mr.Perfect!”
Despite your challenging words, his demeanour changed in as if you snapped your fingers and the reason for that had your chest tighten in panic.
He noticed the tears. You could tell because he blinked, eyes suddenly roaming your face, his voice falling so quiet you barely heard it all of sudden; but perhaps that was only due to the ringing in your ears, the pulsing in your temples.
“That’s not--- I didn’t mean to--“
You cared shit about what he meant or didn’t mean at the moment. He saw you weak. Again. Not only you had failed, hadn’t handled the mission physically, now you were falling apart mentally right in front of him.
He was going to bench you. Worse, he was going to send you express to Coulson despite needing someone with your abilities and he would never ask you to join the Avengers again.
Fight. Show him you have the fire. Show him you’ve got what it takes. Don’t let him think you gave up.
“Well guess what, Captain, I feel pain too and I don’t have the luxury to heal in a few seconds!”
“I don’t heal that-“ he objected lowly and that was the last drop. The last drop and you cracked.
“I KNOW, okay?! You heal faster than anyone, but you still need to heal, because you can get hurt and you can get killed!” His eyes went wide and you gulped; he heard your voice break. Fuck. “Even if you don’t act like it, because you’re the mighty Captain, after all-“ you added quickly to divert his attention.
And the distraction worked. Too bad it didn’t work for you, words still spilling since the dam had been broken.
“Would you stop calling me-“
“Not all of us can be perfect soldiers, the ultimate heroes! Not all of us can do what you do, just push through everything! We fail, we hurt and we barely survive only to disappoint people like you!” you cried out.
It was the line about disappointment, you were certain – something in his expression shifted again and this time, all fight left your body for good, something inside you breaking. The new emotion on his face almost looked like compassion and you didn’t need that. You didn’t need the demigod amongst men and women to pity you and feel for you, especially not now. Not now when you didn’t deserve it because he was right and now this? You hadn’t been fast enough and strong enough – and he might have scolded you for in front of everyone, but now it seemed as if he regretted that because he needed to be the bigger person just to be fucking more perfect and you couldn’t bear it. You never could.
There was a reason why you always jumped to defence when he showed disappointment in you.
Your voice came out as but a whisper, but you made sure it was firm one. “I failed. I disappointed you and everyone else, I know. I’m sorry. I shall accept the punishment as you see fit even if that doesn’t make up for my failure.”
Nor blind nor deaf, Steve’s demeanour changed too; his eyes were suddenly as kind as his words and that was the worst part.
“I have no doubt you tried your best, Spectre, and that’s all we can ever do. The only punishment which will come is one for not following orders.”
You couldn’t help it. You should have, since you were already in such a mess, most of it of your own making, but hearing him utter those words, him of all people. The irony. You scoffed.
And like a charm, all of his benevolence evaporated in an instant; his back straightened, head held high.
“You’ve got anything to say?”
The words prickled at your tongue but you swallowed them. No. Don’t say it.
“No, sir.” Good girl.
“Clearly, you do,” Rogers opposed, eyes dark as they watched you sharply.
Well, then. Bad girl it was.
“Do I? Fine. You’re a big fat hypocrite.”
You might have as well stuck a bar into a bee hive and poked around, aiming for the queen. Rogers went from slightly annoyed to ballistic in a split second, back in your face.  
“Excuse me?!”
“Excused. I bet you were aaaaaaall about following orders in your time, weren’t you?” you mocked him, knowing you were so on point it had to burn him – that was, if he took a moment to actually consider your words, the words of the inferior, painfully imperfect being. “Even now. Never reckless, never out of line if you feel like it’s the right thing to do. Never pushy with your superstrength, never just removing people who stand in your way, because you can and you will get away with it, because you are the saint who does no wrong, not at all-“
It was his turn to scoff, his eyes burning with bright blue flame of righteousness – and disdain.
“You think being me is so great, don’t you?” he threw back your earlier words, bitter, clearly regretting the sympathy he had found for you earlier. He crossed his arms on his chest again, shaking his head, a sardonic smile on his lips. “You have me all figured out.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. So I know you’d do the same in my place and I know that’s why you’re so angry with me. We always get mad when we’re offered a mirror, don’t we?” you pressed, mirroring his bitter smile indeed.
Something flashed in his eyes, voice dropping low. Dangerously low. “I am angry. You have no idea, Spectre.”
Good. Then you had at least something in common.
“Well, so am I. You have no authority to decide when I have enough-“
“As your captain, I actually do-” he interjected, raising his voice again and you just rolled your eyes.
You were insanely grateful for the familiar sensation of slight popping in your ears, the gentle swing of the floor under your feet. You’d be more grateful for it if you didn’t have to stifle a cry, when your body naturally attempted to balance it out and didn’t feel the burn in your abdomen, but you couldn’t always get what you wanted, could you?
Case on a damn point.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, right,” you said, looking straight into your captain’s eyes, sticking your chin out defiantly, saccharine voice of obedience dripping from your lips, heavy with sarcasm. “Well, if you, sir, have anything else to say, say it now, because we’re landing and I’m about to take a shower and sleep for a week. That is if I am allowed. Or do I need to submit an official request?”
You couldn’t tell whether he wanted to shout again or do exactly what you suggested you would do; because suddenly he, too, seemed dead tired, as if your shouting match exhausted him more than the mission or your failure. He stared at you, silent, for a few long moments – a few too many, almost enough to make you feel guilty again for calling him out on his bullshit, enough to make you consider apologizing for that.
Then he sighed. “No, you don’t, Agent. I hope you’ll rest well.”
You blinked, your heart skipping a shocked beat. His voice was surprisingly soft and sincere, his gaze roaming over you head to toe, seemingly concerned.
Did you just break him? Kindness was far from uncommon in him – once you’d calm down, you’d be more inclined to believe that again, you knew as much – but the sudden change genuinely startled you.
“Uhm… thanks,” you muttered, too taken aback to talk back as you walked backwards. He truly looked worn down to a bone, his brain no doubt racing, already figuring out how to fix the mess you had left behind. He looked like he needed a goddamn nap himself. Except you didn’t think he’d take it; that was part of his problem.
Hypocrite.
You swallowed the you too and simply nodded sharply before you walked away, emotions swirling wildly; and at the centre of them all, remorse and puzzlement, wrapped in a familiar sensation of agony.
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Winter Soldier was a moniker Steve Rogers loathed; but the reputation which came with that name was not unearned.
When Bucky appeared behind his shoulder out of nowhere, no sound having been made, Steve nearly jumped out of his skin; and it was a true testament to how upset he was that he hadn’t heard Bucky sneak up on him despite his slightly enhanced senses.
“Well, that went spectacularly,” Bucky hummed, instantly making Steve groan internally.
He did not want to deal with this – he wanted to forget about this whole ordeal. The fact itself that Bucky was cheery about a sleeper Hydra cell simply because he had an opportunity to tease him about what had just gone down only added to his annoyance.
He was tired. He was mad. He was confused. He was disappointed – both in you and himself. He was… frustrated. So frustrated; then again, those emotions and the last one in general were no news in your presence, much like many others, but those in particular he wanted to ponder over even less.
“Bucky, don’t,” he warned his friend lowly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye as they made a slow way out of the jet.
It was a waste of words, really: Steve didn’t know what he was thinking, believing the warning would actually discourage Bucky from speaking.
“You know, maybe if you told her that the main reason why you’re so pissed-“
“Buck-“
“- is the fact that she’s challenging your authority which makes you question yourself, and that you’re terrified every time she gets hurt or loses consciousness, be it her projection or, god forbid, her real body, because you care juuuust a little too much for her, then maybe… “
Steve loved his best friend; but if looks could kill, the one he shot him at the verbalized implications, however truthful, could have murdered him on spot.
“Just saying,” Bucky said, shrugging as he kept up with Steve’s sudden strut, a grin audible in his voice. “Communication is key.”
“You need to stop hanging out with Sam,” Steve grumbled. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Bucky snorted, causing Steve’s head to whip in his direction in annoyance. Didn’t Bucky have a lady to tend to? Why did he have to stick around and poke around Steve’s already exhausted brain and feed the already messy whirlwind of emotion? Oh right. Bucky would say it was payback for all the years Bucky spent saving Steve’s puny ass from the back alleys.
“Right. Just like you had no idea what she was talking about when she called you a hypocrite, because you wouldn’t do the same, try to deliver all the files you could even if it meant you’d bleed the heck out, right? Your real body, that is, because you only have one…”
Goddamnit Bucky.
“Bucky, that’s enough.”
“Nope,” his friend quipped, smiling charmingly at the group of agents they passed in the hallway and briefly, Steve imagined what they had to look like; a brooding Captain practically running away from the sunshine-like Winter Soldier. Clint would call them comedy gold; and Steve didn’t give a damn. Today had been a clusterfuck of disasters with you and him in the centre of it.
“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. Steve just shot him another glare as they rounded the corner, the corridor now blissfully empty. And sadly, endless with nowhere to hide. “Too bad, punk. You might be the Captain, but you’re still my friend. I’ll be bothering your reckless ass and call you out till the end of the line. And I’m telling you – you two need to get your shit together and make up. And maybe you should finally tell her you’d like to make out. But if I were you, I’d start with that apology.”
Steve stopped so abruptly Bucky nearly collided with him. The flare or anger – because goddammit was Bucky right in certain things and it was truly bothersome to hear those – licked at his gut. As he turned to give his most loyal and precious friend a piece of his mind in return, he found him with a knowing smirk on his face. Why were they friends again?
“Really? An apology?” Steve questioned, the idea absurd even as guilt had already joined the party a while ago. “For what exactly? She should have--- one of those days, she’s gonna-” Steve swallowed against the lump in his throat. He did not like the way the sentence could end. How you could end. But he’d scream at you again before he’d admit that; you brought out that side of him for some reason. You brought out a lot of things, most of them unpleasant. Most of them. “She should have followed orders.”
Bucky’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline – which wasn’t too high given how much he’d let his hair grow, but it still served the purpose of irritating Steve.
“Sure she should. And if you have always followed orders, I’d be dead.”
Steve winced as if he got punched in the gut, all flames of anger put out at once. Bucky just shrugged, unbothered by his hypothetical death.
“That’s a fact, punk. And here’s another: your mother would have boxed your ears for treating a lady the way you just did.”
And this isn’t you, Steve heard the unspoken words and with those he couldn’t argue.
The truth was, Steve didn’t recognize himself around you. He hadn’t more than once but it had never got as intense as it had just now. He felt almost possessed, an astral projection of his own, except he couldn’t control it as it raised its voice like that, in front of the whole team no less. And the worst thing was, it wasn’t a projection; the blame was entirely on him as he failed to contain the onslaught of emotion so sharp and large that he just let it all out. Almost all of it.
The one urge he tried to contain was the one to just slam you to a wall and scream the whole truth before he’d vent his frustration with you in a completely different way, with nips of teeth on that lower lip of yours, always pouting a bit when you got into one of your not so frequent but not so rare arguments, having you scream his name in ecstasy instead of defiance, a breathy whine of Mighty Captain without the snark. He was sure that would have raised a few eyebrows, but hopefully the room would clear in three seconds flat after your back would have hit the wall.
In all honesty, the whole scene had been surreal as it was; Steve had had trouble recognizing you as well. You had disagreed with him a few times, yes, you challenged his authority and questioned his decisions, yes; he had a pretty strong feeling that he was most definitely not your favourite person and more often than not, he didn’t quite understand you – but you had never so blatantly disobeyed an order. You had never endangered a mission or your teammates, never played this much of a Russian roulette, even if one might call you an overachiever which sometimes came with a bit of recklessness by default.
It was true that you could be unpredictable at times; one day you followed instructions to a tee, dutiful, meticulous even; another day, you stood firmly in opposition. One day you dotted on others in almost an overbearing quality, another day it was like you evaporated from the face of Earth, completely absent. But what came over you today, Steve had had no idea – you had been not only reckless, but to a great point, careless. Steve’s mind was blown, but not in the good sense.
That said, he was not pleased with himself either, particularly with the fact was that he had acted impulsively during the mission too. You were definitely right to call him out on it; but that didn’t mean he liked it.
He glanced at Bucky, who was watching him with one corner of his lips still raised knowingly, only fuelling Steve’s ire. Despite all that, Steve knew Bucky was right. And unlike when he was in your presence, he didn’t feel the need to deny that completely.
Sarah Rogers, god rest her precious soul, would have been profoundly disappointed in his behaviour and she would have let him hear it too, despite the infinite kindness and forgiveness she had carried in her heart.
“I know,” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t have--- she’s just so- I-“
“I know, punk,” Bucky said forgivingly. “I know. That girl has some serious fire in her and she’s not the easiest to deal with, even if she means well, no doubt. Who does that only remind me of…?”
Steve glared at him, unimpressed – he was aware, thank you very much. Not only opposites attracted. Though he was quite certain this attraction was one-sided; and completely insane.
Bucky just grinned and patted Steve’s shoulder.
“Take a nap, Steve. We all deserve one, even if things didn’t go as planned. We’ll get them next time – as a team. Share some of that burden you strap to your shoulders every time to strap on that shield, would you? It can do wonders, believe me.”
“You really do need to stop hanging out with Sam and spend more time with Nat,” Steve uttered, a small smile gracing his lips.
“Shut up, punk, you love me mental health conscious.”
A full grin attacked Steve’s lips now, troubles forgotten momentarily, unlike the fact why Bucky Barnes was his best friend.
“Jury’s out, jerk” 
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Even as you felt the fire of rage slowly dying, you tried to feed it; because it kept you on your feet. You had not in fact went to lie down, even as you felt those feet dragging more than walking to Natasha Romanoff’ office. She didn’t spend too much time in it, always having better things to do than paperwork, but you knew she’d want her report to be done as fast as possible to move on exactly to those more important things.
And you knew that as long as she was there, her office was conveniently the best place to talk, the camera system disabled.
“Well, hello,” the redhead hummed as she had Jarvis let you storm in, breathless for more than one reason.
Your abdomen was throbbing, but you didn’t have time for that. It wasn’t like you were going to bleed out from a non-existent wound.
“We need to go back there and fix it.”
The infamous Black Widow only raised her eyebrow at your dishevelled state and frantic words, leaning back into her chair. You admitted you had to be a sight to the devil himself since you probably looked like hell, but you rarely let that stop you.
“Water under bridge, Spectre. The base is blown so there’s nothing to go back to and the rest of them will go deep under-“
You shook your head, stalking to her desk, leaning onto your hands, fingers spasming at the bite of pain. Bad idea. And bad phrasing.
“No, Natasha, we—” She scanned you head to toe, her other eyebrow arching as well as you had boldly invaded her space, practically asking to be removed. Violently. You didn’t have the energy to lean back, not right away. You weren’t friends, so you had no right to be so close, but she’d get over it, you were sure. The worst thing to happen would be her breaking off your wrist or something. “What I mean is that we have to act now and get those files. All of them.”
Her gaze zeroed on your face, unnervingly searching and seeing, head tilting to side in genuine curiosity.
“What exactly was in those files that it made you hesitate? You rarely ignore orders,” she stated matter-of-factly, causing you to retreat and step back. Oh. Crap. Black Widow in offensive. She walked around the desk, leaning her weight onto it, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you see, Spectre?”
You gulped; there was no way around it, even as panic made your breathing even harder. There were so many things wrong with what you were about to say and you had no capacity to analyse why you felt the way you felt about it, let alone why you felt even worse about the fact you were the reason why you hadn’t got the intel to others.
“Steve’s initials.”
Even as her brows had smoothened, they arched again now, eyes growing wide. You swallowed against the lump in your throat.
“I tried to copy it and just opened it for a bit, too immersed to notice the unfriendly. Naturally, I got the bullet for my trouble before I neutralized him, but that’s beside the point,” you said, not missing the corner of her lips twitching. “They were… Natasha, they weren’t just some photos or whatever. Those were… they were inventing some shit. It was physics, chemistry, half of the things I didn’t understand, but I don’t think they were replicating the serum – I think they were trying to neutralize it, neutralize Steve specifically.”
And there was no way I was going to leave that there, was left unspoken, but she heard it. Of course she did; this was Natasha Romanoff you were talking to. She didn’t need you two to be friends to read between the lines of what you were saying.
“I see,” she said slowly, the damn intensity of her gaze not relenting. “And you didn’t tell Steve that when he was yelling you down, because…?”
“It was irrelevant.”
“Bullshit.”
“He wouldn’t believe me.”
She scoffed, glaring you down. “That’s bullshit too and you know it.”
Okay, that was fair. But believing was a lot different from taking action. His damn pride would have still had him snapping you back to your real body even if you had yelled at him through the comms what kind of intel you had been carrying on the drive before he messed it up for you – and him. What the heck had he been thinking, breaking your concentration like that? The utter confusion at his actions – because surely it couldn’t have been he had been so angry with you to endanger the mission – only made the matter of your fight worse.
Natasha was right, however – that was just water under bridge. You sure as hell weren’t about to go ask him what possessed him to be more insufferable than normal and you could hardly fly to the pile of debris you had left behind when the place blew up to search for scraps of hard drives.
“Fine. I didn’t think he’d take it seriously,” you admitted at last.
“Now we’re talking,” Natasha said, nodding, a small smirk appearing on her lips, making you frown.
She sure was taking it in stride all of sudden, almost as if--- was she amused? You hoped that was only a mask and in her sharp mind, she was already building a battleplan. She had to. She was one of Steve’s closest friends, real friends, you knew as much. Sometimes her nonchalance truly irritated you. Would it kill her to show more emotion?
Hypocrite.
“But that’s not enough,” she added. “Steve, bless his heart, can be an ass, but not a complete idiot. Any other particular reason why you’d keep it from him?”
Your face was a mask of neutrality. Or you hoped so.
“Nope.”
Natasha watched you sceptically and you swallowed against the lump in your throat.
Naturally, there was a plethora of reasons and on top of them sat the fact that he’d know. He’d know how much you cared. He probably figured out anyway and maybe he wasn’t one to make fun of you for that – scratch that, he definitely wasn’t, he was too much of a good guy for that – but that meant nothing. Caring for people was dangerous; caring for people when you failed meant they’d be taken away. Having people to care for – good people – was a privilege, a reward, one that could easily be confiscated unless you reached perfection.
And yes. You knew Steve Rogers was a good guy, even when he decided to yell at you in front of everyone and challenged you and made you want to smash him against the wall and bite into his stupid plump lower lip and then cuddle him and tell him he didn’t have to be so strong and that people cared about his safety too. Of course you knew he felt pain, but he just never showed it, and it was just so damn irritating, because you needed him to be only human too, so you wouldn’t feel so pathetic despite your powers, so you’d feel a little more worthy. You were well-aware that your way of thinking wasn’t healthy, especially since Steve was a person you could never and should never compare yourself to because that standard was just impossibly high, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to meet it. That didn’t mean your family hadn’t set the standards just as high. Perfection was not an unreachable standard, even as it always seemed to be out of reach for you.
However, knowing that precisely that was one of the main reasons why you admired Steve as much as you wanted to punch him to his perfect teeth didn’t help you coexist with him or stopped you from acting like a five-year-old in his vicinity.
On top of that, you were fully aware of how disappointed he would be in you for failing in one particular task which you were sure he considered the most important one: to have your teammates’ six. And you wouldn’t handle that; you were selfish even to that point. To have Captain Rogers learn you hadn’t been strong and fast enough to retrieve data which increased the chance of keeping a key member of your team safe and watch his reaction up close would break your damn barely patched up heart.
Natasha continued to watch you as you zoned out, her smirk growing. “Right. No other reason at all then.”
Oh, she knew about it all, alright. You had no doubt. She might not show much emotion, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t mastered reading other people’s tells. If you had any emotional capacity left, you’d be ashamed at how your face burned under her watchful gaze.
“Will you please tell the others about the files?” you asked instead, causing her to tilt her head to side a fraction again.
“I will, but why should I? Why, when you can be the one to do it? If nothing else, you should tell Steve,” she said, almost motherly you supposed – not that you’d know. “Those were files about him – he deserves the truth and to hear it from you. I’m sure he’d be less angry with you too.”
Somehow, her last suggestion was even more terrifying than Steve Rogers being all in your face and snarling. You attempted a smile, masking the anxiety curling in your gut by exhaustion.
“Maybe. I just… it might be childish, but I don’t… I don’t have the energy for that now. Tell me what else I can do and I will, but not that.”
She watched you silently for several long moments, a small smile curling up her lips – almost a compassionate one. What was it with people and their damn compassion today? You had fucked up. Why was Steve the only one to acknowledge that and why was he relatively nice about it in the end, just like Natasha now? Frankly, as much as you preferred not being completely on Black Widow’s bad side, earning her pity was exponentially worse.
“You know, most things are not going to go away just because you pretend that they don’t exist. Least of all feelings.”
It’s been working out pretty well for you, you wanted to throw back, but Bucky Barnes, the love and the lover who was one of the few people who could slip under the hard shell of Natasha Romanoff, would probably argue with you that it worked for her the best when she did let someone in. But unlike you, Natasha Romanoff did not make mistakes and was an epitome of perfection herself so she could afford that. Natasha Romanoff was terrifying; you’d like to watch someone try to mess with her.
You, on the other hand, were no Black Widow. You could and even had to keep pretending in order to exist.
“Just watch me.”
She sighed, letting her hands fall to her sides. “Go to bed, Spectre. I know you still feel that gunshot wound.”
You froze.
Your heart skipped a beat – several beats, you were sure – because your chest suddenly hurt, panic clawing up your throat anew.
She knew. She knew.
How did she--- how? You always fought so hard to hide it, as much as of a pain that was; horrible pun included.
Yes, you sure as hell still felt the gunshot wound. With every move. With every breath. Every time you had strained your muscles to yell back at Steve.
The pain of whatever injury your spectre sustained alwayslingered. Ironically, it was only thing you actually were able to carry when you snapped back. It stayed with you for a while; not the whole time that it would take for the wound to heal, but it still took days sometimes, days of pain whose intensity slowly faded away. An invisible aching wound – like a pain in a phantom limb. There was no evidence of an injury in your body, but your brain still registered it. No therapeutic approach had worked when you finally accepted that despite what you had been taught, this wasn’t normal; only for having to accept that with no solution in sight, it actually was normal. Then again, what was normal when you only had one sample to examine?
“You mostly hide it well, don’t worry,” Natasha’s voice snapped you from your dark thoughts, uncharacteristically soft. “Your secret is safe with me. But that doesn’t mean it should.”
“It definitely should,” you said in at instant, eyes hard despite the tell-tale burn of tears you felt. If anyone knew – anyone else, that was, apparently – you’d be done. Benched forever.
I do feel pain and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body, Steve had thrown at you. If he hadn’t noticed, you were good; you had indeed hid it well enough and that was all that mattered; despite bickering and yelling, he was still willing to work with you. But that would change very quickly; and he had the authority to kick you out of this team and this business completely.
Sure, Natasha had the power to bench you and even fire you as well, but judging by the way she was looking at you now, no matter how disapprovingly and somewhat proud at once, she wouldn’t. It would be okay – as long as she’d keep her mouth shut about it just as Andy had. Andrew Garner, the only person who had known your painful secret and encouraged you to engage with various therapy approaches to rid you off your burden. He had taken the secret to the grave, never having told nor Coulson, nor the rest of his team.
The one person who had known about this was dead; and if that wasn’t a clear enough message that no one else was supposed be trusted with this, you didn’t know what else would.
“It should,” you repeated, inhaling and instantly regretting it. You swallowed as Natasha didn’t miss the tiny hitch in your breath. Dammit you needed to get better at hiding it. And you would. “Please. Tell me what else I can do.”
Perhaps it was your true superpower to make people sigh, not to project into another room, because the redhead observed you for another long moment before sighing again.
“I meant it, Spectre – go to bed. After I’ll tell the others, we might need you. Rested. With as much as you can give.”
One corner of your lips rose in a tired defiant smirk. “I can give everything.”
The look Natasha gave you before you spun on your heels told you that precisely that was both the blessing and the problem. But you didn’t need to be told more than twice to go to bed.
As you walked out, trying your hardest to walk completely straight and not hunch over even a bit, you heard Natasha’s completely exhausted sigh.
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Next chapter
Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist
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Alright folks, life's been quite busy so this was born through sweat and tears and I don't think it will get better any time soon, but hopefully the result will be worth it 🥰
There are and will be a few distant references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I think you should be fine whout having watched the show.
Thank you for reading 🥰 As always, if you have he time and energy, I'd greatly appreciate your reblogs and feedback, be it even a key smash or yelling at me should the need arise 🤭
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MASTERLIST ⤵️
..there is a lot of hot people on this list. enjoy.
❤red: smut/suggestive/spicy
▸ Pedro Pascal
The Best Kisser [fluff] Age Gap [angsty fluff] || Second Part [fluff] Pascal in a Song [fluff] Pascal with a Kid [fluff] Dancing [fluff] Sleeping Beauty [fluff, GN]
As Joel Miller:
The Two of Us [angst] Nursed to Health [fluff] ❤Fights [suggestive] ❤Pretty Like This [smut, angst] Home Bound Series
As Frankie Morales:
Phone Sex Operator [romance]
As Agent Whiskey:
Sweet Whiskey [fluff] Last Dance [angsty] Social Cues [fluff] Jack is sick [fluff]
▸ Jeremy Allen White
As Carmen Berzatto:
❤Cherry Compote And Apricots [smut] Square One [angst] || Squared Away [romance] A Romantic [fluff] ❤Strawberries and Cream [smut] ❤Suits [spicy] || Rewards [smut] ❤Slow Love [smut] Bad Day [angst to fluff] ❤Carmen getting a BJ [smut]
▸ Ryomen Sukuna
Shadows And Silk [fluffy angst]
▸ Suguru Geto
Your Best [angst to fluff]
▸ Gojo Satoru
He's Mine [angst, romance] || I'm Always Yours [angst, romance] Scars Are Beautiful [fluff] She's Mean, And He Loves Her For It [angst/fluff]
▸ Fushiguro Megumi
Not a Kid Anymore [romance, fluff] Stay the Night [romance]
▸ Aaron Taylor-Johnson
As Tangerine:
Marks [angst, fluff] Baby Citrus [fluff]
▸ Will Poulter
Hugs, Massages [fluff] If you'd like to [fluff]
As Adam Warlock:
Becoming Human [fluff] Powerless [angst]
▸ Jensen Ackles
As Dean Winchester:
Time and Misunderstandings [angst] ❤Request: Best friends turned lover [smut]
As Soldier Boy:
Already Broken [angst, romance]
▸ Ben Affleck
As Bruce Wayne:
Identity [romance] His Secret [angst]  Self-Defense [romance]
▸ Chris Evans
Found You [fluff]
As Steve Rogers:
The Enemy [angst] All I Ask [angst] Precious, Special, Important [angst]
▸ Tom Hiddleston
As Loki:
Monsters [angst, romance] Empty [angst]
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