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neoplatinum · 3 months

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opposing worlds | kim chaewon

summary: rooming with kim chaewon was a terribly bad (good) decision.

pairing: roommate!chaewon x roommate!reader

themes: enemies (?) to lovers, college au, fluff, very minor angst, chaewon is a micromanager!, implied sexual content, yunjin!

wc: 3.0k

even though its below freezing outside, with a red nose along with frozen ears, you refuse to enter your apartment. fearing the demon that you live with, her legal name being kim chaewon.

a major pain in your ass is how you would describe living with her. you would rather step on legos than to live with her, but with limited on-campus housing you have to deal the cards that you've been dealt.

so you pace outside, on the welcome mat, biting your nails. just getting the courage to walk back into your apartment. one that turns into a war zone whenever chaewon's being a stickler for rules and regulations (ones that she's made for the apartment). you finally stop pacing when you feel the confidence back in your body.

"i'm not letting her dictate what i can and cant do." you say to yourself quietly, this was ridiculous. not being able to enter a space that you pay for just because chaewon was a micromanager pissed you off more than you would like to admit.

as soon as you enter the apartment, you're immediately hit with the silence of the apartment. it's odd, and you can feel a pair of eyes staring at your back. you pay it no mind as you slip off your shoes. you turn to the sight of chaewon with her arms crossed, standing in that familiar stance of authority. letting out a heavy breath, you know, watch her folded arms, tense jaw, and the most telling sign: her foot tapping rhythmically. so you walk towards her, like a child ready for scolding.

"what's it going to be tonight, chaewon? cleanliness, manners, etiquette, or are you going to comment about my clothes?" you explain, frustrated. It seems you can never get things right around miss perfect.

"cleanliness!" she exclaims, pointing at the many dishes piling up in the sink. you grimace at the sight, just remembering it was your turn to do the dishes. "look at our chore list! it's your week!" she continues point at the very detailed chore poster, your name in big bold red letters.

you groan and grab some gloves, preparing for the long lecture about cleanliness and maintaining a proper space. while you are busy washing all the bowls in the sink and placing them on a drying rack, chaewon begins listing off reasons to always maintain a clean apartment—a lecture you have heard far too often.

"enough, chaewon! i am not five, and i don't need to be lectured on why I need to wash the dishes for the 50th time!" you shout at her, cutting her off from her outburst. she stops, and you can see her lips waver, and her hands are balled into fists.

"then stop acting like a five-year-old!" she shouts back at you, stomping to her room and slamming the door. you wince at the sound, feeling a little guilty for yelling at her, she just really set you off tonight.

so you stand in the kitchen all alone with the sound of running water comforting you. feeling the weight of your words, you feel bad that she has to reprimand you for things you should figure out on your own. with a final dish on the rack, you sulk back into your room, thinking of ways to apologize to your roommate.

"chaewon?" you wake up early, feeling guilty that you yelled at her. even though you were tired of the lectures, you knew it was wrong to yell at the girl. you tried making a breakfast that she would like. so with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of her favorite green tea, you carry the tray towards her room and knock on her door.

"what." her voice is flat and monotone. you shrink into yourself before speaking again.

"i made you breakfast...listen i'm sorry about yelling at you. i shouldn't have and i let my emotions get the best of me. could you open the door?" you explain, feeling awful just remembering her face when you yelled at her.

the door opens slowly and behind the door is an upset chaewon with puffy eyes and a bunch of tissues in hand. you slowly walk in and place the tray on her desk. she's busy with her schoolwork it seems, but it also looks like she's been busy crying with the pile of tissues in her waste basket.

it's weird being in her room ever since you found out how high-strung she was. so you have always steered clear of her room, this is the first time you've been inside. noticing how decorated the room is, it's cute, oddly. it's what you expect of chaewon's room, clean and proper. with a splash of green everywhere, that must be her favorite color.

she stares at the bowl of oatmeal you made her, eyeing it wearily. you groan at her.

"i didn't poison it, if that's what you're thinking." you comment quietly. she nods and sits down in her chair to eat it. you wait patiently, not really sure what to do. maybe waiting for feedback at this point. she just nods and you finally feel your shoulders release tension.

"phew." you say out loud.

"thank you for breakfast, i'll stop lecturing you so much." she says quietly. you nod, a little shocked at how dismissive she is. walking out of her room, you still feel a bit awful, maybe you should invite her out somewhere.

before you can begin to ask her, chaewon is already closing her door behind her. you're just grateful she accepted the peace offering.

she doesn't comment on your poor behavior in the next couple of weeks, you just feel inclined to do the chores that have been laid out. you don't hear from her for a while, feeling her absence in the apartment.

some days, when you're past boredom, eyes glued to the ceiling, and daydreaming of becoming rich. you think about chaewon and why she's so persistent about cleanliness. you always thought it was a bit extreme, but you never came back to a messy apartment. so you could appreciate that, you just hope she goes back to her own noisy self.

it's become strangely quiet in the apartment without chaewon's constant annoyance towards you. whenever you step outside in the living room in hopes of seeing chaewon, she's never there. your mood is considerably worse without a person to argue with.

you purposely leave out clothes on the floor for her to scold you, but she never comments on it. just stares at it and walks into her room. so with a dejected face, you pick up your own clothes. you hate to admit that you missing your nagging roommate.

"is that chaewon?" your friend shouts into your ear. saturday night out, and instead of staying inside with the awkward tension with chaewon, you're out here to party your anxiety away.

the thing that irks you tonight is that this house party is definitely a fire hazard—way exceeding the maximum number of occupants. you remember chaewon telling you to never stay in a place that breaks the maximum occupants.

you turn your head up at the question, looking around and you finally spot your roommate across the room. all you can conclude is chaewon is stupid drunk—dancing like her life depended on it. people all around her are egging her on, and chaewon breaks out the robot, making you laugh.

then some guy starts getting near her to dance with her, you frown at the sight. setting down your cup as you make your way to the other side of the room.

"woah buddy, back up." you put a hand between the dude and chaewon, he flips you off before walking away. you are about to chase after him to give him a piece of your mind, but then you remember chaewon in front of you. blearly eyes chaewon, with her stumbling and drunk laughter filling your senses. she refocuses her eyes, and they land on you, eyeing your outfit.

"what are you doing here?" she asks in a slurred tone, her finger wagging in your face.

"i could ask you the same thing." you raise your eyebrows, confused by the sight of miss perfect student chaewon partying on a sunday night. she scoffs at you.

"don't tell me what to do." she crosses her arms as best as she can, definitely feeling the drunkness.

"don't tell me what to do." you mock her tone, laughing at her when she gets mad at you. she starts to walk away, but you grab her arm. "hey, let's go home. it's late."

"no! let me go." she stomps her foot like a child.

"alright, let's do this the hard way." you say and and hoist her up, carrying her out the stuffed house.

"let me down! i'm not done partying." she shouts. you pay her no mind as she tries pushing you away. you laugh because she really isn't trying that hard.

so you take her back home, walking down frat row until you reach your apartments. by then she's fallen asleep, arms wrapped around your neck and snoring lightly. it's cute seeing chaewon so relaxed, you're glad you found her, it's been weird being at home without her. you hope whatever is happening between you two just returns back to normal.

you fumble around with the key to your apartment, and with a final push you walk into her room. unwrapping her arms from your neck, as you set her down in her bed. you admire the way chaewon looks in makeup, gorgeous and very serene.

but you also know that chaewon hates going to sleep with her makeup on, so you rummage through her makeup drawer, finding makeup wipes for her. you take the time to gently wipe all the makeup off, finding it peaceful and fulfilling to do so.

she fusses a bit when you wipe too hard. you pull back and let her calm down, before wiping the rest of it off. throwing the used wipes in her waste basket. when you turn around, you see her knocked out cold, laying like a starfish on her green comforter.

you smile at the sight and then roll her under her comforter, tucking her in. with light footsteps, you close her door, and return back to your own room. the smile never leaves your face.

it's been about a week since the party, chaewon was embarrassed that you had brought her home. so she bought you coffee and a muffin nearly every morning.

she lets you explain that night from your point of view, her face goes red at the embarrassing parts. you purposely leave out the part where that guy was trying to dance with her. for some reason, you feel upset when you talk about it, maybe he just looked too creepy.

she dissapears into her room soon after, something along the lines of, "i need to process all this."

later that night, you're writing on your laptop when you hear chaewon's door open. the sight of her in a nice form fitting dress and her hair done up, your jaw drops and you jump to your feet.

"where are you going?" you ask. she's checking her purse for something. she looks up at you confused.

"a party?" she states like it's so obvious. your body is jittery at the idea. you think quickly, she's not going out by herself. what if she gets kidnapped?

"wait, let me go with you." you say as you rush into your room to get ready, no way you're letting her go to that party alone. you need to fend off the creepy men for her.

"why are you going?" she asks from outside the doorway. a little confused at the sight of you throwing clothes everywhere. she even steps inside to pick up the clothes now littered all over the floor.

"just cause." you say and grab your outfit. rushing into your bathroom to change. within a few minutes you walk out ready to accompany chaewon.

she's on her phone waiting for you, and you examine her outfit. you rummage through the closet, looking for a nice warm jacket. slipping it over her shoulders as you both set out for the night. you miss how chaewon's cheeks warm at the gesture.

it has started becoming a regular habit: if you can't attend the party with chaewon, no matter how late or wasted she is, you always pick her up from the party. if she was too tired or drunk, you would help tuck her into bed.

oftentimes, you even had to help her puke her guts out from drinking too much. but that was never a pretty sight, so you try and get her to puke her guts out before she enters the apartment.

one night, she ends up just crawling into your bed. when you fall asleep, you feel her body warmth against your body. she makes herself comfortable under the blanket. wrapping her arms around your torso as she lays against your pillow.

you move yourself further off the edge of the bed as she scoots closer. she mumbles something about how warm her bed is, and honestly, even with her taking up your personal space, you don't mind.

it has somehow blended into a habit to sleep together every night when she came in the next night, and without a word, slipped under the comforter again. you let her, too scared of saying anything in case it scared her away. it's become a nightly thing to just sleep in the same bed together...even when she's not drunk.

"you two do what?" yunjin is staring at you with her food half chewed.

"dont talk with food in your mouth, you're going to catch flies." you comment.

"oh great, now you sound like chaewon too." yunjin bites her food. you decided to contact yunjin in hopes of figuring out what to do with this new "development" with chaewon. the habit of her sleeping in your bed with you. sometimes you wake up and catch chaewon staring at you.

"so you two sleep together in the same bed, brush your teeth together, go about your morning and nightly routine together, and even cuddle...platonically." yunjin questions you, but the sarcasm is dripping as she says it.

"yes." you answer.

yunjin takes a deep breath before starting up again, she didn't think you were so dense. "dude, chaewon is into you."

"no she's not, just two months ago we were at each other throats. don't you remember?" you ask.

"of course i remember, oh my GOD, is this my real life enemies to lovers slow burn 10k words fic in real life?" yunjin says to herself towards the end.

"you seriously have got to get off the internet." you cross your arms staring at the girl. "you aren't helping, by the way."

"help with what?" she asks, a little confused.

"what do i do?" you ask her. ever since the new habit of chaewon and yours, you've been going through your days all confused, always thinking about chaewon.

"you either grow a pair and confess you want to be more than 'sleep buddies' or you wuss out and just let her continue doing this." she says plainly.

you disregard her comment, "forget what i said." you say. yunjin just shrugs and continues eating her meal, letting you sit with your own thoughts.

so you do wuss out like an absolute coward. just letting the unspoken words take over you and chaewon's sleeping arrangements. you let her continue to invade your space, moving her stuff into your room. her decorations, her clothes in your drawers, and just recently she moved her desk into your room, placing it just next to your desk.

you were shocked at the arrangement but couldn't find the confidence to comment on it. it's weird; now you two practically exist in each other's space all the time; just two months ago, you were cursing the world for giving you chaewon as a roommate. now you can't imagine going to sleep without seeing her and her hair roller every night.

sleeping together turns into unspoken dates: going to the movies together, going bowling, getting groceries together, and even going to high-end restaurants together.

it's like you're dating unofficially. those were the exact words your friend told you when he came over to visit. when you let him into your room to show off your movie posters, he immediately thought you had a girlfriend, you had to explain to him how it was just chaewon.

he looked at you like you grew a third eye, confused at how chaewon went from most annoying person in the world, to someone who sleeps in your bed every night. you try not to let those words mean so much, but secretly you're hoping you can officially date her.

one night, you go out clubbing with chaewon; she looks gorgeous in her tight dress and her hair laid out, showing off her dancing to you. you recently found out thar chaewon was part of the dance team, often visiting her showcases. now you enjoy just watching her let loose, like a free soul, not bounded by her own rules. its beautiful to see.

by the third song of you two circling each other on the dance floor, you kiss her. pulling her into your embrace, hands reaching her back and pushing her closer to you. she welcomes the kiss and lets you pull her closer. hands running up your hair, tugging lightly.

you make out with her against the club wall, and drag each other home with urgency. laughing loudly in the streets like teenagers in love.

"be mine." she breathes into your ears that night.

"only if you're mine too." you kiss her shoulder, and she nods.

yunjin visits you two the next day, screaming at the sight of you two in your bed and covering her eyes immediately. you wake up horrified with chaewon clinging onto you as yunjin screams for the whole apartment complex to hear. she slams the door closed and runs out of the apartment. you and chaewon both look at each other before laughing loudly.

even though yunjin avoids both you and chaewon for the next two weeks, you don't feel an ounce of regret. you can honestly say that rooming with chaewon was the best decision of your life.

a/n: i feel like chaewon fits enemies to lovers really well but maybe that's just me. didn't really proofread this one but anyways. posting this piece first because it was decided by the people! i hope it was worth the wait! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#chaewon #kim chaewon #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x you #chaewon x reader #chaewon x you #kim chaewon x reader #le sserafim chaewon #kpop imagines #huh yunjin #neoplatinum

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equallyshaw · 5 months

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star crossed loves au | connor bedard x kailey hughes au ↳ slowly, but surely. ↳ au masterlist!

warnings: angst, anxiety attack, swearing etc. also this takes place in feburary after his jaw fracture! word count: 2.2k. - longer than i expected lol

"do you wanna come to my game?" was a simple question, and one of innocence. kailey would give it that, but the deep feeling of dread was felt rather too quickly for her liking. she looked away from connor as the two were finishing up breakfast, hoping he wouldn't notice the uneasiness that plagued her features. he did. the two had been inseparable since new years, and had became official only a few days afterwards. ofcourse, he'd see the tension that sprang up in her features, the inability to look at him - especially in the eye - and the way that he body seemed to be folding in on itself. she stood up abruptly, bringing the plate back into the kitchen, and connor watched with a million questions buzzing around. she came back in and sat down, swirling her lukewarm coffee. "i um, i cant go." she said staring down the place mat. his eyebrows furrowed, "can't or won't go?" he questioned, hoping for some clarification. she made direct eye contact with him and gave him a small frown, "i wish i could go, i really do. but i can't bring myself to." she said bringing the last of the once hot liquid to her mouth. he shook his head, "you have to tell me what that means kails." he said setting down his fork now.

she sighed, setting the mug down. "i vowed to myself long ago that i'd never go to another hockey game in my life, let alone step into a rink once more." she paused sniffling, "that game ruined my childhood and my relationships with the rest of my family." she said and it felt like a dagger piercing his heart. "then why, why did you agree to be my girlfriend if you can't stand what i do?" he questioned without a second thought, and he could see how much it hurt the blonde. she made a tsk noise, "i can respect and support what you do from afar connor. but y'know now that you say that, why did i say yes? why did i say yes when i knew that i wouldn't be able to listen to the sound of skates hitting the ice when it really mattered? even if it was the stanley cup final, i wouldn't be able to do it because of how much it would make me sick." she finished, standing up and heading towards his condo door. "wait kail-" she cut him off with the front door opening. she stood between the threshold, looking back at connor. "you're right connor, how can i support you when i cant even support my own brothers?" she asked rhetorically before stepping full into the hallway and towards the elevator. as soon as she hit the elevator, she quickly began to cry while hunching over with her eyes shut. connor stood with his mouth agape, unsure if he should go after her or let her go. how could he let her go, when besides hockey- she was the thing he was most sure about in his life?

becca kaileys roommate and longtime best friend, could tell something off that morning when kailey came back to the apartment in a fit of rage. "what'd they do now?" kailey questioned, thinking her brothers said something stupid. "not them, him." she responded beginning to pace. "but its my fault, im the one who said yes without telling him i cant watch hockey. im the one who has wasted his time because why the hell would he date somebody who cant walk into an arena without throwing up?" she blurted as becca stood up, concern lacing her gaze. "hey kails? wanna sit down?" she questioned softly, wrapping her arms gently over her the blonde's. kailey immediately began to break down again, completely folding into becca's figure.

hockey was something that was seldom spoken about in the apartment. it was not off limits per se, but it was to be treaded lightly. unfortunately, kailey held a great amount of disdain for the sport and if it was mixed in with her brothers, it was a double whammy and usually ended in an anxiety attack. sure, she'd been to therapy for her childhood, jack and the topic of of hockey had come up many times. it was the reason why she was plucked away from her budding life in toronto, because they wanted the family to be with jack and usa hockey. it was why everything and everyone that she adored, was taken away from her. so she set up boundaries, and that meant no hockey. besides quinn's debut, no debut for luke or jack. no playoff games, nada nothing. her parents had respected her choice, and with the backing from her therapist - so did the rest of the family. this was something she didn't tell connor when they were talking during break before new years, because she knew that it would scare him away. just like it had now.

kaileys thoughts were interrupted, by a loud knock on their apartment door. "ill be right back." becca announced, standing up and walking towards the door. "ill be in my room." kailey responded, barely audible but becca picked it up. as soon as kailey was out of view, she opened the door to connor. who looked distraught, angry and sad all at the same time. "um hello?" becca said and connor opened the door, pushing his way inside. "where is she?" he asked flustered, and becca sighed. he met becca's gaze and snapped in her face, "becca, where is she?" he repeated and becca stood their in a shocked state. before becca could respond, they both heard a sob or more like a wrenching cry from kailey's bedroom. connor wasted no minute shoving off his shoes and throwing his jacket on becca, before heading down the hallway. becca could only chuckle in response, before sending him a salute as a joke and one that he didn't see. "go get em." she mumbled, before putting his stuff down.

connor knocked on the door before opening it, and as he opened it he found kailey on her bed. her head was in her hands and hunched over. his heart absolutely broke as he walked over, and sat beside kailey pulling her into his body. "its ok kails, I've got you." he whispered, repeating it every few seconds. "im not mad or upset, i promise." he whispered after a few minutes. her sobbing began to quiet down, but her breathing was still too heavy for his liking. "but you were right." she said after about ten minutes. he looked down and shook his head, "i was not right." he stated boldly. she pulled away from his chest, looking at him properly now. "you were right, why should i be your girlfriend if i cant support you on a nightly basis? its not fair to you con, its not." she said running a hand through her hair. "so what?" he questioned, and she looked at him. "so what? you matter more than hockey. yeah we may have only known each other for a month now, but I've never been more sure about somebody or something in my life besides hockey. you and our relationship im so sure about, ask any of the guys. they probably would tell you that im so disgustingly annoying." he mused causing her to giggle softly. "i promise that just because you choose not to watch hockey, doesn't mean that im gonna break up with you." he argued and she chuckled. "you don't like me enough to say and do that." she said rolling her eyes, and he shook his head. "no, i love you that's why." he confessed and she slowly looked back towards him. "wait...what?" she asked, barely breathing. he grinned before smiling, "i love you kailey clara and what are you gonna do about that?" he mused causing her to blush. she breathed in heavily why playfully rolling her eyes, "i can either kick you out or tell you that i love you back." she hummed, leaning closer towards him. "thankfully for you, its the latter." she hummed staring down his lips before pulling him in for a passionate and deep kiss.

the two pulled away after about ten seconds, pressing their foreheads against one another's. "as long as you say you're my number one fan we'll be good. this cements everything." he joked causing her to giggle. "you cheeky boy! but yes, good thing ill be your number one fan as long as you have me." she grinned before they kissed once more.

later on in the afternoon as the two cuddled with one another after connor's nose found solace in kaileys neck, the blonde spoke up. "i promise connor, to open myself up to hockey. i promise im going to try, ok?" she questioned turning around to face him. he had a small hopeful smile grace his features, "slowly but surely kails." he hummed before pulling her into his chest and placing a kiss on her head.

it was two weeks later, and after a black graphic t-shirt of connor came in- her and becca were off to a game against the florida panthers. the two walked arm and arm towards the 300's section wanting to experience it in the 'trenches' kailey had always called them, and experience it with some die hard fans. and, far enough away that nobody on the team or their partners would recognize her. she wanted to surprise connor.

"i feel like i could vomit." she confessed, sitting next to becca who only gave her an encouraging smile. "the game's underway, maybe that'll distract?" she questioned and kailey could only laugh in response. the two's attention focused on the game, and some point during it she had sent a text to not only tessa, alex vlasics girlfriend but her mom as well, sealing it with a picture of her view. her mom and dad gushed and sent words of encouragement and tessa begged for her to meet them after the game in the wags and family box. to which kailey responded, was a tba. the blackhawks ended up wining 3-1 with connor getting a goal and two assists. and with being on somewhat of a high, she told tessa that they would meet her in the 200's section. tessa stood their waiting for them and as soon as she saw them, she began to jump up and down with excitement. "im so happy you're here!!!" tessa gushed, pulling kailey in for a huge hug. she then moved towards becca and the two of them hyped the youngest hughes up. "oh my god, stopppp." she said blushing. "can you not, were in public you two." as the two girls highfived each other. "what?! this is a big deal girlfriend. you made it through the entire game." becca said shaking the girl just a bit. tessa's phone dinged with a text from alex, him and connor were walking towards the box now.

"get your ass in there, now." tessa demand pointing back towards the box door and becca quicky pulled her inside. becca smiled and waved to some of the girl's she had met at new years with kailey, and they were all happy to see kailey. finally. "im nervous beccs." kailey said in a whisper and becca smiled, "he'll be happy to see you chica." she smiled down at her best friend who only nodded.

kailey heard his voice before she saw him, and once becca looked behind her she turned around. connor hadn't taken notice yet but once tessa made a nonchalant comment, he quickly looked around the now - desolate- room and then his eyes landed on her. she smiled softly, once their eyes connected. he smiled, and then made his way over ot the girl. he pulled her in for a big hug without a word, his nose finding the crook of her neck. "hi pretty girl." he whispered, and she found herself blushing like a fool. "hey superstar." she grinned, before he pulled back a bit to look at her. then he noticed the t-shirt and he smiled, taking a step back to inspect it. "oh, i brought it just for this occasion." she grinned making him chuckle just a bit. "its my face." he said a bit stunned, "it is your face." becca said monotoned which made kailey snicker. "its alright, he's got a pretty face." she teased, "a pretty face, huh?" they heard Phillip kurashev tease and that made connor roll his eyes. "pretty pretty connor!" kevin joined in causing more chuckles to arise, "lets go pretty boy!" mackenzie entwistle teased, and kailey smiled softly.

"come on pretty boy." she teased, beginning to walk out with everybody else. "i should put that as your new name in my phone." becca mused, typing away on her phone. "i swear to god becca if you do!" connor threatened playfully, "you'll what?" she grinned back. "ill tell your little secret..." connor began only for becca to hear and that made becca grow quiet. "you wouldn't dare,🖕🏻" she texted and connor only giggled in response as they walked towards connor car.

so what secret, connor baby? lmao

please like and reblog if you liked!

#connor bedard #connor bedard x k hughes au #start crossed lovers au #connor bedard au #connor bedard blurb #connor bedard imagine #jack hughes #quinn hughes #chicago blackhawks #new jersey devils #luke hughes #vancouver canucks #equallyshaw masterlist #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine

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bordysbae · 1 year

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Can I please get 11 with barzy

“wrong team”

mathew barzal x female reader

11. “can i get your number?”

i hope it’s okay i kind of changed it from number to instagram since it was more fitting! if you want me to change it to number just lmk!! <3

“i cannot believe that you’re wearing a wild jersey right now, you should be ashamed” your friend jackson exclaims. “oh hush, when we beat the islanders i’ll laugh in your face” “yeah yeah whatever you think,” he says. “honestly i cant believe we’re even sitting with you, aren’t you embarrassed to be wearing a minnesota jersey at the home of the islanders?!” your other friend sierra jokes, earning a chuckle from both you and jackson. “okay okay quit it you two” you roll your eyes playfully.

clearly you’re a minnesota wild fan, but you’re living in new york. you and your best friends got tickets to a wild vs islanders game, and somehow managed to get tickets not only right by the ice, but also next to the penalty box. the teams begin to come out for warmups and you and your friends watch as the players skate right by you. although you don’t really care for any of the islanders players, of course you know who they are. you begin to look at your phone as sierra and jackson fan over their favorite players, until suddenly someone bumps into the glass right in front of you, causing you to flinch. you instantly look up and see none other than mathew barzal looking back at you. he has a disappointed look on his face and you shrug out of confusion. he points to your jersey, and you start laughing.

“wrong team” he mouths to you before skating off. you’re stood there in shock as sierra and jackson freak out over what just happened. “holy shit y/n! that was insane! why are you not freaking out?!” “i am! but i don’t really care for the islanders, let alone the one and only cocky mathew barzal.” you chuckle, making your friends roll their eyes at you. suddenly before the teams exit the ice to change into their game jerseys, mat comes back to where you and your friends are standing. he’s holding a puck in his hand, and he tosses it over, making sure only you get it.

your mouth falls agape out of pure confusion. why is he giving me a puck if i’m wearing the opposing teams jersey?? you think to yourself. as you look at the puck you notice something written along the side of it in semi-sloppy silver handwriting. you audibly gasp as you read what was written across the puck, grabbing both of your friends attention. “what?! what does it say?” sierra asks. “it says, ‘can i get your insta?’ on it!” “no way, you’re lying!” jackson says. “i’m not look!” you hand him the puck, and he starts to read it. “how do i give him my instagram?” you question. “ma’am i thought you ‘didn’t care for mathew barzal’ or am i hearing things” sierra pokes your side. “shut up, he’s hot and he’s an nhl player who asked for my instagram. now help me figure out how to get him my insta!” “the game is starting, we’ll figure it out later!” jackson says as he puts his phone away.

turns out there was no need to figure it out later, because mat had a plan all along. 12 minutes into the first period mat “accidentally” got a penalty for high sticking. as he skates his way into the penalty box, you watch as he smiles at you. you instantly grab your phone and type in large letters your instagram username, which thankfully is something simple. mat nods, as he exits the penalty box and returns back to the ice.

after the game is over you don’t have much luck with getting any other chances of communicating with mat, and you assume he’s already forgotten your name, that’s until a notification appears on your phone.

barzal97 has requested to follow you.

you gasp, shocked that he must’ve written down your name during intermission, or that he remembered it. either way he was being totally serious, and you still couldn’t comprehend. after a few minutes of panicking, you press accept and you start following him back.

mat: hey, i didn’t forget your name!

you: after all the effort you put in to learn it, i’d really hope you wouldn’t forget it

mat: luckily i didn’t. anyways, i have a couple questions for you

you: alright shoot ‘em at me

mat: well first, what brings you, what im assuming to be a minnesotan, to new york?

you: work and college. i went to nyu and now im living here full time.

mat: ah i see, yet you’re not an islanders fan aye?

you: my best friends are, they both grew up here. that’s who i was with tonight

mat: i see i see, although you’re rooting for the wrong team, i was wondering if maybe i could take you out sometime.

you: hmm i’d have to see. i think i’m pretty busy rooting for the wrong team, mr. barzal

mat: how’s friday at 7?

you: perfect.

#mathew barzal #mat barzal #barzy #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal fluff #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal x reader #new york islanders #hockey imagine #hockey blurb

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turtlecleric · 3 months

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your breath comes out short and heavy as Leo pins his weight on your hips . Your hands pinned by your head as you both come clattering on to the floor. He smiles down at you cockily as you tap his leg with your foot when his weight becomes too much. "I suppose I win this round to." Leo practically sings as he rises from your body and lifts you up to your feet. You let go of his hand and begin to stretch out your limbs pouting slightly. You thought you were ready to take Leo on in these head to head sparring matches, but considering the now staggering amount of losses you are now starting to realize you might have been overconfident about your own abilities. But honestly the worst thing about all of this is Leo's stupidly smug face every time he pins you. How his whole demeaner shifts because, he won. Losing to Leo has never not been the worst thing in all of existence. And the absolute worst thing about that is... its kinda hot when he gets cocky. The way he talks becomes more rhythmic, his voice a song in your ears, egging you on to try and make it shut up, his touch confident and commanding. Forcing you into place so he can straddle you, again and again and again. You are actually considering blaming your lizard lady brain for half of these losses. Its not your fault that him pinning you is hot as shit. You take a plastic water bottle and pour some water out into your palm splashing your face. Cooling you down. fucking stupidly hot prick you think as Leo Saddles on up to you his face tying its best to hide that its radiating smugness. "One more round, or has mi Princesa had enough?" He sings the words at you, overly confident, almost cruelly. you feel the water bottle in your hand crunch in slightly. He's just trying to rile you up, you think to yourself. He just wants another taste of victory, You wont fall for it, nope, nuh uh, Definitely not. "Shut up asshole." you say with an irritated eyeroll as you begin to walk past. "Ooooh, Did I strike a nerve there Princesa? you know its not very lady like to be a poor loser." That stops you in your tracks. You spin around towards him. " Who said I was ever trying to be lady like Leo?" He smiles wolfishly back at you. Like your prey, dumbly walking into his trap. "Good point, I suppose no one really has." "Shut up!" "Make me." You pause looking up at him. you hadn't realized how close to him you had gotten till now. He is still smiling down at you curiously. You can practically feel the electricity forming between you two. Your anger and his smugness mixing together. Intoxicating the both of you. You relent.

"Fine asshole, one more round" You say as you take up your stance on the tatami mats. "trust me Princesa, it wont be much of a round." Leo makes good on that statement. You manage to strike at him twice before he grabs hold of your arm, twisting it behind you and slamming the both of you into the ground. Your anger pushes you forward though, you grit your teeth and try to kick at him but its no use. He pins your knees with his own immobilizing you. The hair on the back of neck stands on end when you feel breath. A laugh that is too hot, too close. You feel your self growing wet, Like you weren't already a bit before. You pray that he cant tell. "Oh, mi amor, I'm starting to think you like it when I pin you." You try to wiggle out of his grasp again so you can smack him, but he shoves your arm up higher and the pain pins you to the ground again. He laughs as he relents the pressure on your arm. "You know if you wanted me to pin you to the ground and fuck you senseless, you only needed to ask nicely." You feel your body grow hot as your cunt clenches around nothing. God that's a hot image. Him fucking you like this. Him taking his pleasure while you scrape and try to overpower him. The only thing keeping you from that fantasy becoming real is your stubbornness. "Eat shit and die Leo." He laughs as he once again shoves your arm up rewarding your comment with more pain, however this time he doesn't relent, he keeps your arm there as you squirm underneath him. You grit your teeth. Is it bad that this is also kinda turning you on? You cant see his face but you can hear in his smile in his voice. You can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. Everything about this is making you dizzy. "Thats not an answer mi amor. Are we doing this or not? " You bite the inside of your cheek. Fuck it, stubbornness be damned you want this. "Yes." You feel Leo relent on the position he has on your arm. "Yes what Princesa? " you groan in annoyance, God hes such a poor winner. "Yes, please pin me to the ground and fuck me senseless." He smiles. " Good girl." The next thing you feel is his teeth on your shoulder. The pain makes you cry out as he grinds against your ass. He soaking both of your shorts in seconds "Fuck." You cry out as you press your ass up higher giving him a better angle to grind against. God you wanna know what his face looks like right now. primal and heavy. His mouth stained with your blood as he takes his pleasure offering you none in return. After all your just prey to him right now. A prize he won fair and square. God you want him to touch you. You need him to touch you. "Leo please I'm begging." He detaches from your shoulder and licks a bloody stripe across your pulse. "You call that begging?" he say incredulously his voice strained as he continues to hump you. "I've taught you better Princesa. You need to tell me what you want." "Fuck, Please touch me." he laughs cruelly at that "I am touching you." Your going to kill him. Someday, some how, you know deep in your heart of hearts you are going to be the one that murder this man. "Goddamn it you fucking bra-" your anger is cut off as he presses your arm up again. pain shooting through you. "Tisk, tisk, mi amor. Who is the one being a brat right now?" "You." You hiss as he shoves your arm up even higher. tears pricking your eyes. "Me." You say correcting yourself. he rewards you by lowering your arm back down to the first position. Still painful but you sigh anyway from the relief. "Me, I'm being the brat, I'm sorry I'm sorry. Please, I just want your fingers in me. Please ill be good I swear"

Leo hums as if content at you, lowering your arm back down to a non painful position. "See, that wasn't so hard now was it." You grit your teeth holding back any sort of sass before crying out as he glides his hands under your shorts and presses his finders inside of you. Your greedy cunt immediately clenching around them. "Fuck yes, Thank you, thank you." you cry as he pumps his fingers, shallowly. Its not enough but God its something. You try to buck your hips into his hand to get any kind of friction on your clit but its no use the position just isnt right. "Please touch my clit, I need it please I need it." Your too dizzy now to care about keeping up appearances. You need pleasure. you need him to touch you like this. You need his cock in you. He growls lowly in your ear as you feel him drop, He then shoves your hips back down onto the floor and removes his hand from your cunt. you whine desperately from the loss. "No,no,no,no,no, I'm being good please, please your fingers please, I'm sorry."

Its then you feel him kiss your cheek sweetly, letting go of your arm that's been keeping you pinned . "its ok, mi Amor, you are being good I just need to change positions. is that ok?" You nod your head and take in a deep breath as he shifts on top of you. he takes both your arms and ties them behind you. probably with his mask you think. He then lifts your hips up an d removes your shorts and underwear before pressing your thighs together and pressing his cock between them, Thigh fucking against your folds. the tip of his cock head rubbing against your clit with each thrust. God you didn't know what to expect but it was definitely not this. Regardless though the release of having something to grind your clit against is more then enough to have you screaming for more. And you do in fact scream for more. For his cock you actually be inside you however he doesn't relent. He continues to thigh fuck you till the both of you are well and spent. His hand pressing your face into the tatami the whole way.

(-Stranger)

I'M SCREAMING

#i sat here. eyes wide. mouth agape. heart POUNDING. as i read this #oh my god #oh my GOD THIS IS EVERYTHINGGGGG #i need this like i need oxygen #am I drooling???? FUCK SOMEONE HELP ME #thank you for this delicious meal holy SHIT this is my JAM #ff #rise!leo #fav #my heart seriously won't stop fluttering oh my god #asks #hey god? it's me again #I'm begging #just like I would for L- [is struck by lightning]#long post

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chosoguapo · 1 year

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HOLLY JOLLY CHRISTMAS husband!choso x blkfem (s/h) ⤷ content warning: husband!choso headcanons (christmas themed), fluff, multiple creampies implied, matting press, dirty talk, squirting, pet name usage — bunny & baby, implied that y’all have kids.

signed mumu . . . this is apart of @hiraizens A WHITE CHRISTMAS collab. just to let you all know the reader is going to be described as black and having black features. yes, i am perfectly fine with someone who isn’t black reading this. all i ask is that you are respectful and don’t make me feel uncomfortable in my own space or black spaces <3 (also “s/h” refers to she/her pronouns). wattpad link — ao3 link.

HUSBAND!CHOSO that doesn’t like you having to work. its not that he doesn’t think you are capable of keeping a job. he just takes comfort in knowing where is precious bunny is at all times. coming home to the kids tucked in and you in the kitchen in that beautiful nightgown around your figure. just imagining you doing any kind of simply tasks can make him get a hard on at the office.

HUSBAND!CHOSO, who enjoys dressing up for christmas. he doesn’t particularly care for holidays in his own regard, but if it makes someone he loves happy. then he’ll go all out. of course you two would be mr. and mrs. clause while the kids were your elves.

HUSBAND!CHOSO, who likes to fuck you slowly while your dressed up in your sexy christmas themed lingerie. he doesn’t want you to have any visible markings while out in public — even though you’ve told him multiple times that it’s okay. he just doesn’t think it’s right to mess up a beautiful body such as yours.

HUSBAND!CHOSO, who comes home late after staying for a annoying three hour board meeting on chirstmas eve. coming through the door with stoic facial expression while wiping down his face from the amount of stress he was feeling. his mood immediately changes once he sees you and the kids snuggled up on the couch.

HUSBAND!CHOSO who loves teasing you. with the hassle of preparation that you’ve been doing for christmas. he hasn’t been able to tease you without the kids interrupting your private time. finally with them being away and he could be able to touch in all the places he wanted to put in the open.

“you feel so good bunny” choso cooed in your ear. it been a while since he felt how good your walls are around his dick. he had been fucking you for hours, not giving you a single break. “please choso, i c-cant” you begged, feeling your legs aching from the matting press position you were in.

“please what, baby? you know you have to you use your words.” he teased. choso knew exactly what you were implying, he’s just so intoxicated by how by how sensitive your body is from the multiple orgasm you’ve had tonight. “it’s too mu-“ you were cut off by another deep thrust from choso in the middle of your sentence.

he slightly grins from your reaction. “just one more for me baby, i know you can do it” he whispers. one of his hand grouped your boob, toying with your stiff nipple. his other hand rubbing on your juicy clit. choso was making you feel like you were on a ecstasy trip that you didn’t wanna come down from. a shaky nod at him gave choso all the affirmation he needed to keep going. “that’s my pretty girl.”

HUSBAND!CHOSO, who’s favorite thing to add into the mix of your pleasure is that toy you keep hidden in the bottom left drawer. your bare naked body lays on choso’s chest as he reaches for your pink dildo that he held as a special surprise. choso cuts it onto the highest setting, “you can handle this can’t you bunny?” he lustfully says.

you were too tired to even give a actual response to his question. opening your legs wider as a “yes” for him to enter the dildo into your pussy. your fists tangled around the sheets, with tears further ruining your already runny eyeliner. just from the vibrations from the you could feel your orgasm coming in a matter of seconds.

your body tensing while laying on choso, turned him on so much. he couldn’t help but also get his hands on that pretty clit of yours. “mmm baby” you moaned out. your fingernails gripping into choso arms while did thrusts to the movement of his fingers. he knew your were about to just fork how anxious he could tell you were.

cupping your face with his other hand, he leaned his face closer to yours. closing the gap by locking your lips together. your loud moans being muffled into each kiss, while choso rubbed your clit faster. you began feel dizzy as the overwhelming sensation you were feeling became to much. pulling away from the kiss, choso tells you “you’re doing so good baby” to encourage you to cum. without you even realizing jets of of squirt released on the bed and choso’s fingers. bringing his finger up his mouth, choso sucks all the juices from his fingers. “i love you” he says as he reaches for the towel on the bed side dresser to clean up the messy, messy sex you two had.

🏷️: @sheluvshiro @xeniray @bimbx @getogasm @sintiva @takemichiluvr @prettygirlsloveprettypeople777 @venusflytrapstar @tsumuz @chrollohearttags @180-fuck-me @blessedfatui @gyarubunny @blakbleh @imnotevenhereagain @swinginprunegothcop @eddiebunnie @av-sos @dic3dt0mat03s @respectfullyangry @lavishmalfoy69 @spookyy-gracee @sat-rn @strawberriemuffins @mimi321us @narutofuck @igetchildsupport2 @si00p @harlequins-gambit @eclpsess @cretaceouss @hangeswife69 @magicalfiresoulland

#A WHITE CHRISTMAS #choso.txt #choso smut #black reader #choso x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo #choso x black!reader #choso headcanons #husband!choso #choso jjk #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x y/n #ᕱ⑅ᕱ ۪𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒖𝒎𝒖 ۪ ۫ 〜

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that-one-weird-simp · 1 year

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CHILD OF THE SORROW DEMON

Part 2 warnings: smut (i cant say mdni because i believe half the people reading this are minors...) breeding kink, vaginal sex, knotting and a shit ton of demon sex. This is a flashback part 1 part 2 part 3

You were quiet, calm, you listened well and made him feel better about himself. not use to kindness from anyone SEKIDO he started taking a likening to you when he tried to escape from his brothers and he bumped into you near where they are. you just apologized and tried to leave. "wait... stay please... your the only sane one here that I'm comfortable being around," YOU BETTER DO IT YOU BITCH you agreed like the good human you were. you both talked about things, things that he was interested in or something random.

this talking continued and he grew feelings for you, though he was denying himself and constantly tell himself you were nothing more then a human that was useful and will only get in the way of things and get him in trouble. he avoided for a while, leaving you alone hoping those feelings would go away. but his sorrowful ass could not bare the thought of you alone with no one to protect you or give you the love you deserve.

he came back to you after his emotions get the better of him. it seemed you were a little affected by his actions but it faded afterwards. he continued to talk and hang around you, his feelings grew and he started to masturbate thinking of you and have a lot of dirty fantasies about you two. but he discovered something while he was pleasing himself alone behind a boulder. He had a knot. this surprised him and was confused and wondering if all demons had it.

he dismissed it and put his still desperate cock away in his pants. weeks have gone by and he awaits the right time to claim you as his, he couldn't take it anymore, you were perfect for him, so calm, quiet and caring. your curves and body fit his so perfectly when he hugs you. so he waits, he waits for the perfect moment.

you both were alone in an abandon ware house, the others left and left him with you to make sure you don't escape. he was fidgety and nervous. he didn't know what to say or do. you tried to comfort him which did work and made him feel somewhat better. you both sat down on something comfortable enough, he keeps his leg over the other to hide is painfully hard erection. you were just sitting there, peacefully unaware of that he is going to stretch out your insides and fill you full of semen as much as he can.

"hey Lord Aizetsu?" he looks over at you with a questioning look upon his sorrow expression. "yes?" you handed him a small wrapped object. he politely took it and slowly opened it revealing a hand crafted wooden earrings. his heart melted, "th-thank you..." he wrapped them back up and put them in his pocket. "your welcome," he couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed you by the shoulders and smashed his lips on yours.

"her lips are so soft," he continued to invade your mouth with his demon tongued. This caught you off guard and you didn't know what to do. you just went with it. he had you on your back as he towers over you while still enjoying your soft lips. he rips of your underwear and shoves himself in raw. he had you quiet your moans so you two didn't get caught. he thrusts himself inside you over and over. using his hand to cover your screams as he sucks your tits.

"you are mine, All be damned You are mine... No one else can have you," you could barely comprehend his words as he destroys your pussy. his knot grows inside you, you can feel it, hitting your cervix over and over. it locks you two together as he cums violently inside you. but he keeps thrusting inside you. he took you an all kinds of positions. he leans you against the wall, he put your leg over his waist as he carries and fucks you at the same time.

this went on for hours, making sure non of his cum leaks out. he slowly pulls out of you and puts you down slowly on the ground on a dusty mat. he kisses your forehead as you slept. this continued, so loving and gentle but a becomes a pussy destroyer. he has fucked you endlessly and so loving when he is not inside you destroying your insides. he hopes you carry his offspring, you would look so nice with a swollen belly with his baby inside.

he would run away with you so you can live happily together. but that changed when you went missing under sekido's care. he was pissed and scared. he didn't want you getting hurt. all four went on a search party. but you were good at hiding. you were hiding in some wisteria, with a small baby bump, it was only a couple days when you found out you were pregnant. well you fucked a demon so it could explain the abnormal growth. (yeah no joke a few minutes after you guys had sex for the first time the baby already started developing, DEMON POWER)

you escaped into a small village and a nice old lady took you in. you helped around the place as a reward for letting you stay. she helped you through out your pregnancy and through your birth. it was a baby boy, dark skin, long messy hair like Aizetsu, and your E/C eyes. "what a healthy little baby, what are you gonna call him?" the old lady asked. I'm gonna call him Soto, little Soto," the small baby just looked at you with its big eyes.

a few days passed, it was peaceful, taking care of your baby and helping out the old lady. but she woke you up in the middle of the night frantically. you asked what was wrong but she shushed you and led you and your baby out the back door. A demon busted through the door and ran after you two, the old lady told you to keep running, she tries to slow it down but gets dismembered, the demon went after you. you managed to lose it and run over to a river.

you can there was a burnt out camp fire with a infant sized basket near it. you gently put the baby in the basket. "its ok little one, you will be safe, I promise," you cried as you put a small Piece of word with the words Soto L/N. you put cried as you slowly pushed the basket in the river and watched it flow away with your baby. you accepted your fate as the demon tears you to shreds.

the basket washed up on a river bank. the baby inside started sobbing, it was quiet, but loud enough to hear. the cries were heard by a couple of kids that were going to the river to get pales of water. the boy walked up to it and gasped as he peeked inside. both agreed to take the baby and show it to there mother. the moth happily took in the baby. feeding him and taking care of him like he was her own.

but it didn't last long when a gang of demons attacked and slaughtered everyone. but the mom was able to hide him inside the floor boards inside the basket he came in. name tag still attached. he kisses the baby on the forehead and places the floor boards down. a few minutes passed and the infante cried again. it was quiet yet loud enough to hear. the floor boards above him lifted and the baby was met with sorrowful blue eyes.

#aizetsu x reader #hantengu clones #aizetsu #xreader #sadness #baby #offspring #demon offspring #Aizetsu offspring

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ddejavvu · 2 years

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personally i havent ever been called any pet names, so when it does happen (however nonchalantly) i malfunction like fuck. and now i cant stop thinking abt what Eddie would do with a s/o like that.

like before, almost there, and after getting together i think it’s just a thing he wouldn’t let go of, like he’d call you a name casually, CATCH ur reaction, and then just roll with it. keeps doing it until ur in a relationship and thereafter. he’d either be a massive tease or he’d dive in and just get soft like exaggerating it all type of soft just to see you fluster and I COULD NOT SURVIVE THAT. I COULDNT

he starts calling you princess 'cause you complain every time you have to get into his dusty ass van 😭 you open the doors and boom. instant weed smell. it smells like satan himself burped on you. you step into the van and your foot crunches an old water bottle and there's candy wrappers and roaches in the door slots and his glove compartment literally has a monster sized box of condoms that he couldn't possibly run through if he fucked the entire city and that leaves almost no room for anything you wanna stash in there. he refuses to clear cupholders for your drinks because his old drinks are in there, it's old coke from three days ago that's flat and syrupy but it's staying in there goddammit and you're just gonna have to hold your water in your lap, princess.

after a while of begging for him to clean it out or asking steve for a ride instead, you beg to clean it out. you tell him you'll do everything, you'll shampoo the damn mats to get the weed smell out, anything so that you didn't have to be hotboxed anytime he took you someplace.

he says no. just for the hell of it, really, to see you nearly lose your cool and punch him in the throat. he tells you that you'll just have to get used to it, your majesty, because nothing's changing.

It does change, though. One of the coke cups is gone next time, so you have a cupholder. And the roaches are missing from the door a few days later. now there's only one food wrapper stuck under the seat, and he grabs it in his fist when he hops out to get your door for you. He helps you down from the van with a very exaggerated my lady, and then throws it away. he throws it in the garbage.

that's how you know your complaining works. you keep doing it, you grumble about the weed smell, you gripe about the sticky armrests, and he fixes it. not before teasing you gratuitously with more variations of princess, but he only does that to see your eyes go wide.

when he asks you out for the first time, instead of a coke cup in the cupholder, there's flowers. they're handpicked and they're stored in a plastic cup he'd stolen from a diner a few years back, but they're beautiful. he tells you his princess deserves nothing less, and you still have the cup in your cupboard because he keeps bringing you flowers that you need a vase for.

you realize, after he offers you a backrub one night a few months into dating, that he's not calling you princess sarcastically anymore. he's treating you like one, smearing lotion over his hands and rubbing it carefully, meticulously into the knots in your back. You realize it again when he washes your hair for you or scrubs down your back, and presses a kiss to your wet shoulder, murmuring a soft love you, princess amidst the running water. he knows it heats up your cheeks, he knows it gets those butterflies in your belly fluttering, and he loves it.

he does it when he proposes, too. he looks up at you from where he's kneeling, Wayne's tie around his neck sloppily tied with all the care in the world, and he holds out the most beautiful ring. It's fit for a queen which is what you'll be now, it's perfect and shiny and just what you want, and he says marry me, princess?

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction

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fernlessbastard · 1 month

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im the psychotic wilbur anon (forgot to note im paranoid schitzo and i see myself so much in him ANYWAYS) BUT CWILBUR BPD FOR THE WORLD. (< ALSO BPD.) hottest take is that him and quackity are bpd4bpd and a huge part of their relationship is a learning curve figuring out how to navigate communication with each other and each others splits and such. i also think that wilbur tends to black split on HIMSELF more often, and quackity tends to black split on OTHERS more often. i also think that wilbur white splitting on quackity would be a whole nother thing they have to deal with, with wilbur suddenly being like "you are literally god to me and the only person who loves and cares about and understands me you are the greatest human being alive please let me worship you i love you so much" and quackity just being like "woag dude" LIKE. also im so so so for real wilbur has so much paranoid schitzo swag i dont know how to explain that this man is fucking TEXTBOOK paranoia and he has so many paranoid anxiety habits that make me feel insane. i think he always makes sure to lock the door and check the lock like six times when he comes home and he cant sleep at night if hes alone in the house so he barely slept in paradise and didnt sleep right until he moved in with quackity, i think he has really severe paranoia about imposters and intruders and also barely slept and was constantly on high alert in pogtopia and he could only really sleep when quackity visited or if tommy or technoblade shared a mat with him, i think he also has delusions of grandeur that he has to deal with a lot and reality checking him can be really dangerous especially coupled with his bpd because he then SNAPS to black splitting on himself so hard he makes himself sick, ohhhh cwilbur my sickly man i adore you so sorry for being insane in your inbox

The first ask in question

(Ok so as a disclaimer obviously headcanons are personal and there's no wrong ones and you're valid for reading it this way)

With Wilbur I very much agree, but I don't see bpd in Quackity tbh. It more so looks like ADHD alongside shit like abandonment issues, being invalidated his entire life, being generally overworked and having no healthy outlet for his feelings, having trouble identifying said feelings in the first place, etc - all of which are very common in/characteristic of ADHD. I don't remember him ever splitting. His shitty love life makes sense with ADHD too - deficiency of dopamine makes it very easy to mistake the dopamine boost from "new person to talk to" for a crush (believe me). Hypersexuality is also common in ADHD, as well as emotional dysregulation, alexithymia (difficulty/inability to identify one's own emotions), overstimulation, shutdowns, etc, which can occasionally resemble splitting, but is very different, and works through exhaustion and frustration rather than delusions. Various types of paranoia as well as heightened irritability are also very common, especially when your senses are clouded by sensory/information/emotional overstimulation. And especially the splitting outwards part just doesn't sit right with me - maybe i missed a stream or sth but I haven't seen anything like that in him. Furthermore I'd actually say he generally points negative feelings/breakdowns etc inwards for the most part - and when ADHD is being pointed inwards it usually leads exactly to developing/heightening shit like paranoia, rejection sensitivity, hypersexuality, emotional dysregulation, alexithymia, etc. He can snap and isolate himself, but it's very different to splitting. ALSO - very important part - Quackity doesn't exhibit mania episodes. He occasionally exhibits the type of hyperactivity and excitement representative of ADHD, but it's never this state of delirium with feelings of grandeur, delusions, etc. Wilbur does exhibit mania episodes - pretty heavily at that - and the contrast makes it pretty apparent that Quackity's case is different.

THAT BEING SAID I don't have bpd, so for a perspective from someone who does, here's a rant from @octobre-ackedia: <<On so many levels, Quackity doesn't show bpd symptoms. Not all abandonment issues are borderline personality disorder. I don't think I need to say it, but bpd takes over the entire life of a person, it's not just trauma. And I don't really have much to elaborate on with the ask, mostly showing Wilbur's bpd traits but that's for an entirely different rant, and I need to chill out. Quackity doesn't black split on others. It was not shown a single time. He slowly loses trust in people, he builds walls, but that's not splitting. He doesn't start to irrationally hate everyone around himself, think that people are just cruel and bad, and more importantly don't care about him, suddenly becoming aggressive towards them. He backs off a little bit more with each disappointment in people around him, ending up not so much hating, as avoiding human relationships. And he doesn't have a favourite person, not even Slime who was just so perfectly there to be an example of that. Quackity learnt how to trust the guy, building a friendship, but never became truly "obsessed" with him. He grieved his death, tried to save him, but FFS, that's not a favourite person, that's how human relationships work (or more so, hybrid relationships haha). He doesn't get manic. You could say he becomes strongly confident, hypersexual or overworking himself, but the important part in it is the reasoning. He doesn't start believing he is some sort of a saviour for the world and can build a perfect country, or that he doesn't need anyone for that. He starts a project and might go overboard with it, but it's never this... aggressive as with bpd. With the 9 most visible symptoms, he has maybe 3 of them, which are all clear reactions to specific situations. Unstable relationships? Schlatt became an abuser, Karl and Sapnap abandoned him, he never really influenced any of that happening. The abandonment issues and feeling of emptiness are simple reactions to that trauma. His moves are calculated, he doesn't really show any mood swings, he has a quite clear image of himself, he doesn't experience any suicide ideation or shows extreme examples of self harm/putting himself in danger. And what about the part of splitting when he pushes people away after getting scared of becoming too close? He always stays, in the end. Even when he tried so hard not to get attached to Slime. Where's the white splitting? Where's anything, really. I still stand with the headcanon of them having to navigate a hard relationship, with both of them experiencing severe mental issues, but it's not bpd4bpd. Q is my depressed ADHD bitch, who struggles with trauma.>>

Also I'd say Wilbur's heavily autism coded too - as a bonus it does frequently "strengthen" bpd cause of the type of trauma autistic people experience. Q I see as very much ADHD but I also low-key hc him as somewhere on the spectrum too, though I'm not as heavily set on that

Tldr while Wilbur absolutely clearly has some severe mental issues, Quackity's seem (to me at least) to be more easily and consistently explainable by a combination of ADHD (maybe low support needs autism) and some (pretty damn severe (canonically - looking mainly at all the abandonment + sa hints)) trauma

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cowboybarzy · 10 months

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aaah hey could i request for a blurb with barzy in singapore? im from there and i cant wait to see what you’ll come up with hehe i love your writing so much :-) have a great summer!!

tysm for your request! always love seeing you in my notifications <3 hope I did well!!

this is the end of the world trip! thank you to everyone who requested and everyone who followed along! here is the masterlist of the world trip for your convenience :)

disclaimer: I don't know much about the country so I've looked a few things up on google and obviously used google translate (lang. used: malay). please please lmk if anything is wrong (translations or anything relating to the culture). I'm always open to learn and already did a bunch from my quick google search haha I've been on a few websites that shared traditional foods and now I need to go asap and taste everything!! EDIT: one very kind anon reached out and gave me a little history lesson/clarification so here is what they had to say!! ty anon!!

📍singapore with mat barzal

"Oh my god, it smells amazing in here," your boyfriend Mat exclaimed when you entered the small restaurant.

"I know," you answered, your face lighting up at the familiar scent. "It's my favorite place ever."

The hostess, a close friend of your grandmother, light up when she saw you walk in. "(Y/n)! ia telah begitu lama. Tengok awak. Awak sangat cantik." (It's been so long. Look at you. You're so beautiful.)

You smiled, catching up with her quickly and finally introducing your boyfriend to her.

"Selamat berkenalan," (It’s nice to meet you.) he said, his pronunciation a lot better then when you practiced with him on the plane ride.

When you were finally seated, your favorite table of course, and immediately started looking through the menu. Almost two days ago you and Mat had made it to your home country, Singapore. After a year of dating, you were ready for him to meet your family back home and show him where you spend most of your childhood. Mat was very excited for you to show him everything and was a very good sport when eating all of the cultural foods he was not used to. He loved exploring and expanding his food palate.

"You've already had the chili crab, but this place does it better than anywhere else, so you can have that again if you want." You translated the menu for him, but he wanted something with rice or noodles. "Then I'd do the char kway teow. It's pretty traditional stir fry based dish. I think you'd like it."

"Ok, I might take that then." He looked around more, still deciding on what he's in the mood for.

A server, also someone you knew, then came over to take your orders. You gave her yours, then looked at Mat, unsure if he had made his final decision. "You ready?"

He nodded, then looked at the server. "Saya tolong minta char kway teow." (I will have the char kway teow, please.) Your mouth dropped in shock. How did he just say this sentence, pronouncing the words almost perfectly? The server nodded, then left towards the kitchen.

"What?" He grinned.

"How did you know how to say that?" You were still shocked, but a smile crept over your lips. You had taught him a few words here and there, but not how to say whole sentences.

"Oh, I didn't tell you?," he asked innocently. "I've been taking duolingo lessons since we've planned this trip." That was almost three months ago. Tears coated your eyes when you realized what that meant.

"Mat." He smiled, taking your hand in his.

"I just thought I could impress your family a bit. And you, by the looks of it." You broke out in a small, emotional laugh.

"I want to squeeze the crap out of you right now. And kiss." He laughed and kissed the palm of your hand.

"We can do that later. How about you let me have my last meal first?"

#mat barzal #travel with me summer 23 #mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal blurb #nhl blurb #nhl fics #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #new york islanders

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lightwing-s · 9 months

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the idea of food vlogger is because i want to dote jason with delicious food... and i feel like he and both reader would enjoyed being cared for, also, it would warm the batfam knowing theres someone to care for jason when he still hesitate to totally allow himself to be part of the family and let them care for him🥹🥹

for reader's part, there is someone who will appreciate them instead of taking them for goods. my idea for readers backstory is that she dont feel fitted in her high class family, like she has a sister and a younger brother who succeeds in many while she just... you know. cooking and baking and alcohol at first serve as a distraction, then it becomes other taking her love language for granted, then it became a fight, a big break away from home for college as well, a content maker for while of escapism, a job, somewhere in between...

i think how reader meets jason is when she notices her new neighbor seldom out always hiding (past!arkham knight -> red hood) and never seems to eat. and she always make lot of food as she tends to let herself follow the flows even though she cant possibly eat up. so. she left it on jasons doorstep and a note by saying a brief hello. jason at first of course was skeptical but still eat it since hes highly tolerant to drugs and who would honestly left food that is wrapped nicely in a lunchbox at someone's doorstep lol. aftet times, he would find out reader bank account and bank in a few hundred dollars and wouldn't take no for answer. (he did not include fancy dinnerware or cutlery set as well) reader... well, didn't expect it but she did need money and it also mean she can use the set to make more food for her strangely nice, grumpy neighbor.

jason and reader after sometimes both want to know more on each other. but didn't do so as afraid to freak each other. it just happen in a point when jason about to head out (buying gifts for reader) and he saw reader putting a batch of freshy baked cookies and milk on his doorstep. and... his first word is... "really? cookies and milk? what are you, a santa?" reader blink eyes, "um. no. just in mood for it... do you still want it?" jason faceplams, "about that, come in first..."

and that's how they meet! this is what i had in mind though, i would die to know how you think they would meet!! (write this i beg you honor🫂🫂!!) (seriously gonna stop myself being so talkative on askbox lol😹)

You had just moved from your hometown, family and life in general just not feeling right to stick around any longer. A new city, a new place, a new job, a fresh start. That was all you needed and things had been going… fine. Just a tidy bit lonely.

You’d often find yourself sitting by your window and watching people roam around in your street and at the small park just in front of your building. That’s when you first noticed your quiet and quite strange neighbor, making their way in very early in the morning and looking like someone who had just put on an all nighter. And then, you started a ritual of watching him arrive every morning before going to work, and leave just as you’d return.

Mrs. Dawson from downstairs would tell you how she’d never see him bring anyone or anything around, even food. So, you decided to be a kind neighbor and just, you know, feed him. He lived on your floor, and you could just wait to hand it to him once he came home. But weirdly, that day he didn’t show up at his usual time and just decided that the next best option was to leave it at his door. So, you looked at the metal lunch box sitting on his door mat and just felt… odd.

So, you hurried up inside your apartment and got a pen and a post-it block with the intention of writing him a note. You just didn’t count on not knowing what to write at all, ending up with a ‘hi’ and an awkwardly drawn smiley face.

You did it for a few days, unsure if he was even the one taking the lunch boxes away, but finding them emptied out by your door every night. One day, he sneaked in a one hundred dollar bill that you kindly slipped under his door. But then, you’d wake up to the same bill thrown under your door, and the same thing would happen every time you tried to sneak it under his. You didn’t need his money. You weren’t doing it for that anyway.

You just liked it, and even prepared a full meal plan for him with every tiny bit of information you managed to get from his life, which really wasn’t much. You used it as content for your channel, and people would wonder who the hell you made that food for, as you couldn’t just eat it all by yourself. They swore you must have had a boyfriend.

It was sunday, and it was raining heavily and you were out of ideas of what to make that day (and out of food in your pantry as you didn’t have the time to go to the supermarket recently), so you decided to bake your comfort food: cookies. After a few batches were done, you put them in a box with a ribbon on top, and even got some warm milk in a glass bottle to go along, and headed to his front door.

You were just putting it there, making sure to position it nicely, when a grave voice nearly made your heart jump out his chest.

“Really? Cookies and milk? It’s not even Christmas yet.” You turned to find your neighbor, the one you’d been feeding for the past month and who you hadn’t noticed looked this hot, standing right in front of you, jacket hood over his head, and said jacket dripping water on the wooden floor. You didn’t know how to or what to reply, and just stood there for a while until you noticed his eyebrow go up.

“Uhm… no? I was just in the mood for it, and it was kind of the only ingredients I had at home… Do you still want it?” you asked, unsure of what to expect next.

Jason, on the other hand, mentally slapped himself for sounding so rude to you, especially after your cooking had been the only decent source of food he’d been getting in a while. Instant ramen and fast food orders were just not it. “No! Of course I want them.” he hurried to get the cookie box, immediately opening it and stuffing a cookie in his mouth. It was delicious as usual, and he even rolled his eyes as the taste filled his tongue. “Sorry for my lack of manners,” he said, mouth still stuffed. “Your food has been the highlight of my days these past few weeks.”

Upon his words, you felt the heat burning up your cheeks and instinctively looked at your feet. “I wished I could’ve made a real meal, I was just out of ingredients and…”

“It’s perfect!” he interrupted you, thinking that whatever you were going to say would be plain stupid. Anything you made him was enough, and he was so thankful for your meals he couldn’t even put them into words. “But if you want to make something else, for the both of us, I have a few things inside I think you could work up a meal.” he said with uncertainty, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Recounting everything you still had at home, you gave him a shy smile, still not certain where to look, but managing to get a glimpse of his own shy smile and puppy eyes. “I’m sure I could figure something out.” You said, and entered his apartment as he held the door open for you. The two of you cooking together your first meal of many more to come.

a/n: don't you ever stop being talkative in my inbox, missy! I loved this. I love just creating backstories for my characters and usually not writing the story lmao, so i feel you (i’ve been obsessing with ghost riley from cod and i just had to make my own oc recently lol). and now i'm heading to bed because it's 2 am and i have to wake up at 6am. but writing again made me feel so great tonight, thank you to you all and hopefully i'll see you soon.

#miss potato #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd blurb #jason todd #jason todd fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd x yn #food vlogger reader

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soulgazingwithbucky · 1 year

Text

Chances (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Agent!F!Reader

Summary: For most, life is too short to miss any chances. For Steve Rogers, life is too long to take all of them.

Warnings: swearing; mentions of blood, gun use, violence; unhappy ending (alternate ending needed?!)

Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: hey everyone i have a crush i cant do anything about so i made it everyone's problem in the form of this fic. also i swear bucky's coming back to my writing with a vengeance

“Coulson, slow down,” you grumble. The clock reads an ungodly hour, and Coulson’s near-incomprehensible speech only propels you further into half-conscious annoyance.

“Get up,” Phil urges. “We found him.”

⋆⋆⋆

You lean in, ears straining as Captain America addresses Agent Horowitz.

“Where am I, really?” he says.

Your eyes dart back and forth between several screens.

“Shit,” Fury hisses. A moment later, you hear the door slam behind you.

“Told you!” you call after him as Horowitz reports a Code 13.

You turn around to look at Hill, who watches the monitors with her arms across her chest.

“I told him,” you say as Captain America breaks through the walls, shoving agents to the ground.

⋆⋆⋆

Fury takes a seat beside you with a huff.

With your eyes on your computer, you start, “I–”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

Maria peers at you over her screen, flashing you a barely-there smirk. You instead ask a question to satiate your curiosity.

“Is…he okay?”

Fury gives an exasperated shrug.

“Said he had a date.”

⋆⋆⋆

“How’s the apartment, Captain Rogers?” Fury asks. Across the desk, Steve sits, shifting uncomfortably as the chair struggles under his frame.

“Fine,” he says curtly, his eyes flitting between all the different objects in Fury’s office. You and Maria share a look.

“Have you been getting enough rest?” she asks.

“Trying.”

“Well, we have another meeting to run to, Captain,” Fury says, “but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. The agents have a gym in the basement, and the dining facility is on the tenth floor.”

He stands up; you and Maria follow closely behind.

There’s no meeting. You had planned to spend an hour with Captain Rogers, but it’s clear there isn’t much to say. You look back at Steve with his head low, his back hunched.

“What do we do, Fury?” you ask, closing the door behind you.

“Give him time.”

While Hill and Fury retreat to their offices, you change into your workout clothes and make your way to the basement. You’re surprised to step out of the elevator and see an impossibly muscular frame standing by the gym entrance.

“Captain,” you greet. He’s peering past the glass with a slight grimace, staring at the equipment–fancy, shiny things with a thousand buttons each.

“Agent,” he responds, replacing his uncomfortable expression with a solemn nod.

“Nice, isn’t it?” you say, standing beside him to observe the room together.

He chuckles, more out of astonishment than anything.

“Yeah,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. His eyes shift downwards at his feet before peering back up, watching your coworkers sprint on the treadmill or re-rack their weights. “It’s something.”

“What are you gonna do?” you say, eyeing the leg press machine that’s calling your name. You look over at Steve just as he glances at the punching bag. He opens his mouth to answer you, but then he notices the odd wires coming from behind the bag, the complicated mat beneath that seems to be flashing at least five different colors. He closes his mouth and instead shakes his head.

“Just giving myself a tour,” he answers.

You tilt your head at his fib.

“You got a minute?” you ask, your request earning a raised eyebrow.

⋆⋆⋆

“Migs!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up at the sight of the combat gym owner.

He yells your name in response as you meet in front of his business’s entrance.

“Appreciate it, Migs,” you say as the older gentleman pulls you into a side hug. You wrap your arm around his back, returning the embrace.

“Anything for you, kiddo,” Miguel, a near-father figure who has a few decades on you, responds as he unlocks the gym door.

Behind you, Steve smiles at the friendly exchange. He stays a good distance away, partly out of respect and partly out of caution.

Regardless, it’s hard to ignore the man built like a linebacker with striking movie-star looks.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Miguel demands, gesturing at the hero in the shadows. Steve blinks in surprise. In the past few weeks, he has been the center of attention–not unlike his life before the ice, but somehow completely unlike it at the same time. Despite his longing to be invisible once again, he’s taken aback that someone doesn’t recognize him.

“A friend,” you tell him, shooting Steve a wink. He smiles, welcoming the anonymity.

Miguel turns on the lights, illuminating the gym in dim orange. Steve steps in, admiring the weathered facility. Surrounded by muted walls, a dusty floor, and tattered boxing ropes, he feels a sense of comfort that’s completely novel to him since coming out of the ice.

Miguel takes all of thirty seconds to show the captain around.

“We got mitts, gloves on the rack over there,” he says, keys jingling as he gestures around him. “Boxing ring with a round timer, obviously. Uhhhh, jump ropes, elliptical–if it’s working. And then you got the bags…Oh, and we also got one-on-one training-” Miguel pauses, scanning Steve from head to toe “-if you need that sorta thing.”

Steve chuckles, murmuring his gratitude.

“You need anything else, ace?” Miguel asks you.

You shake your head. “Just sign up my friend for a membership, and we’ll be good.”

Steve’s head snaps up at your request. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

As Miguel passes you an application on a clipboard, you say, “Good thing you didn’t ask.”

⋆⋆⋆

“I hope I’m not overstepping,” Steve tells you, gesturing for the waiter as you slide into the booth.

“Not at all,” you say, still catching your breath from hurrying over. You’re not sure why the captain has called you, but you know it has to be important. Steve’s eyes drift to your brow, where a butterfly bandage holds a wound closed.

“That Loki’s a fun one,” you say, bringing a hand to the injury. You don’t feel the need to indulge him in the details of nearly getting buried underneath a collapsing building. “Is everything okay, Captain?”

“Steve, please,” he insists.

“Is everything okay…Steve?” Though you’ve seen the captain’s name printed in briefs and articles a million times, it feels odd to address him by name. “Miguel didn’t try to charge you that ridiculous sweating fee?”

He lets out an amused exhale through his nose and shakes his head.

“It’s funny you mention Loki. I…wanted to ask your opinion. On the Avengers Initiative.”

Surprise paints your face. You weren’t expecting to be Captain America’s advisor tonight. But you lean back and sigh with the weight of his request. Your waiter comes to take your order, giving you a few moments of reprieve.

“I know what Fury would want me to say,” you say after your waiter exits.

He leans forward, resting clasped hands on the table.

“I want to know what you want to say,” he implores, his piercing gaze making it difficult to collect your thoughts. You take a deep breath.

“I think…you need time to heal,” you begin. “To recover. I mean, not like I’ve got the experience, but something tells me you don’t wake up after seventy years fully assimilated. In a perfect world, you would get all the time you need to be okay before getting back out into the world, let alone saving it.”

He knows the answer, but he presses, “And what world is this?”

The words feel heavy on your tongue.

“One that needs you.”

You watch his troubled eyes, the twitch of his lip.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?” you say.

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself.

He looks up at you, repeating: “Yeah. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else.”

“Glad I could help,” you say. You peek over his head, trying to peer into the kitchen. Steve nudges his plate towards you, and you gratefully take a few of his fries.

⋆⋆⋆

“Dillard, find out what’s going on in Bay 3 for me. So what do you think?”

The upper half of your body is hidden under thick pipes. You peer closely at the maze of metal, willing the leak to show itself.

“He’s…cute.”

You lift your head to look at Nat. The loud bang echoes throughout the room as your head meets pipes. You wince, dragging yourself out of the underbelly of Helicarrier plumbing. Nat raises an eyebrow as you rub your head.

“Not what I thought you were going to say,” you reply.

“So you disagree?” she says, tilting her head.

“Uh. No?” you say, tapping nervously on the wrench. She smiles as you avert your gaze. “How are the…other ones? Thor and Dr. Banner and the rest?”

“I should probably make sure they’re not tearing each other apart,” Nat says, rolling her eyes. “You coming?”

You look around you. The hull is so much quieter than the rest of the carrier, allowing you to bask in comfortable silence while you and your crew work.

“Nah. Hill is better at that kinda stuff. I’ll be here if you need me.”

⋆⋆⋆

Above you, the ceiling shakes slightly, scattering dust around you. You stand up slowly, the sound of distant rumbling calling your attention.

“All hands to stations.”

“Shit!” you cry, dropping your tools and sprinting up the stairs.

Agents are running all around you, and the hallway is flooded in flashing red. You have no idea what’s going on, but you rush to the weapons room, ready to defend the Helicarrier from god-knows-what.

You crash into someone’s shoulder, the force sending you spinning to the ground. Strong hands grasp your arms, lifting you to your feet.

“Sorry,” Steve says between breaths.

“Steve,” you say. “What’s going on?”

“Under attack. Be safe. Check in later.”

“Copy that.”

He clasps your shoulders again before disappearing into the crowd of agents. You watch him for a second before turning around, continuing on to the weapons room.

Agent Weaver catches up to you.

“First name basis, huh?”

“Shut up.”

⋆⋆⋆

You hesitate before rapping on the door three times.

Steve greets you with a smile. Beads of water are dripping from his hair down his neck. He’s in sweatpants and a white tee that could definitely be sized up. As you enter his apartment, he hands you a takeout container.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he closes the door behind you.

“Well, when you bribe me with shawarma…”

He laughs, but he’s rubbing his hands together and crinkling his eyebrows. You set your food down and plant yourself in front of him.

“Hey, it’s just a debrief,” you tell him, wrapping your hands around his biceps. Your touch brings him back to reality. “It’s no big deal. Fury just talks for an hour.”

“Yeah, it’s…been a while since one of these, I guess.” He tries to laugh it off.

You leave his side, sitting down at the dining room table.

“If it makes you feel better, you did about two million dollars less damage than Bruce and Thor.”

“It’s not that.” He throws himself on the couch, stretching his legs along the cushions. “I guess authority has never been a big fan of me.”

“Authority doesn’t get along with Captain America?”

“Authority doesn’t get along with the punk that lied about fifty times to get into the military.”

You speak between bites: “Then you must’ve gotten along with Tony Stark. Wonder why Nat said you had your panties in a twist over him.”

He perks up, resting his arms along the back of the couch. “She said that? Exactly like that?”

You snicker at his sudden interest, choking on a slice of tomato. “Does that bother you?” you tease.

He concedes, leaning back on the couch’s arm. “That Stark is something else. I wonder what Peggy would say if she knew I almost fought Howard’s son.” Steve stares at a spot on the wall, his mind a flurry of what-ifs.

⋆⋆⋆

Ambush. You’ve been tasked to partner with Captain America for his first official SHIELD assignment, and it’s a fucking ambush.

“Stay close,” the captain says.

Steve tosses his shield at someone behind you. You hear them slump to the ground while another approaches; the shield narrowly misses you as you duck and sweep your leg out, causing a third henchman to crash to the floor.

“Watch it!” you say before Steve knocks you to the ground, shielding your body while a whizz of bullets flying past.

“Guess someone has to,” Steve shoots back before pulling you up. You roll your eyes as you unholster two weapons on your belt, one pointed to your left and the other pointed behind you. You pull both triggers without batting an eye. You don’t bother looking; Steve’s mesmerized expression confirms that you’ve hit your targets.

Steve is speechless. He has never seen you in battle before, and it’s–

“Six o’clock, Rogers!” you say, causing the hero to duck down as you aim a bullet at a man sprinting towards you. You hear yet another coming from behind, and you aim a bullet at Steve’s shield. You turn just in time to see the ricocheted bullet take out the last goon.

Knowing you were safe, you let out a fatigued sigh and pat your newest coworker on the shoulder.

“Welcome to SHIELD, Cap.”

⋆⋆⋆

Macau was absolutely beautiful, but the jet lag never quite wore off, especially when your tasks still catered to Eastern fucking Standard Time. As much as you could appreciate the change of pace, you hoped Fury would never give you an assignment like this again.

- idk steve, seems a little unfair to assign me to track the train in vancouver when i was assigned the lemurian star just a couple weeks ago. did you KNOW what time it was over here?!

- anyway, im going to bed. night!

- You've only told me a hundred times. I’m glad it was you helping us out, even if you had to track the Star from thousands of miles away.

- Good night. Sweet dreams.

- :)

You smile at the three notifications on your phone. Tucking yourself under the covers, you reach over to turn off your night lamp.

Ring ring ring.

Maria’s name on your phone earns a prolonged groan from you. So first they schedule meetings at all hours, and now they expect you to pick up the phone at every possible second.

“Hill, I love you, but I swear to god–”

“You remember that sushi place? The one on 10th Avenue?”

You feel a sudden sweat forming on your brow, even though the air conditioner is blasting. You had first heard the coded emergency message years ago, when you first trained for SHIELD. Never did you think it would actually be used.

You clear your throat, forcing your voice to steady.

“Yes, we were there with your mom and your grandma.”

Is someone listening? Are you okay? Who compromised SHIELD?

“Right. I’ll talk to you later.” Maria’s voice betrays nothing before she hangs up the call.

You only brought a duffel bag to Macau, and you’re now shoving it full of underwear and clothes.

Wait, honestly, fuck it–Hill’s call told you scatter immediately, who the fuck cares if you had enough shirts?

You leave the SHIELD-sanctioned apartment, tossing your phone into a nearby garbage bin. You think of Nat, of Fury, of Steve. You wonder if they’re okay, but you have to settle for never knowing.

⋆⋆⋆

Red pixels fill your screen, slowly sharpening into a familiar face.

“Nat,” you gasp. Any suspicion about the unknown number on your burner phone melts away.

“Hey,” she says. She delivers her greeting with the nonchalance of a friend who has just seen you for brunch. “If you were a traitor, you would tell me, right?”

You match her lopsided smile. “No, of course not. Hey, what’s your social security number again?”

Natasha laughs, but her joy dissipates quickly.

“Nat? What’s been going on?”

On your end, you’ve been on the run, though you never quite knew who you were running from. You’ve had no contact with your coworkers since you received the call from Hill. You’ve heard various rumors, but you haven’t had the comfort of confirming their truth.

She peers somewhere off camera.

“A lot.”

She turns back to you, continuing: “He…hasn’t been good.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

You hold your breath as Nat stands up, willing her shaky camera work to still. You can barely make out their bare environment, lighted only by bars of fluorescent light.

“Maybe he should tell you himself.”

You watch as Nat hands over the phone. Steve looks up at her in confusion before turning towards her device. You see the relief flood his features. He says your name like it’s a breath of air after being held underwater.

“Steve,” you greet softly. “Are you okay?”

Steve presses his lips together. His eyes become dazed as he tries to find the words. After a few moments, you say his name again.

“I had a friend.

“A best friend,” he begins. “I thought I lost him.”

He hangs his head, and for a moment, all you see are strings of blonde hair.

“But the truth is much worse.”

The last time you had spoken, Steve was an explosion of excitement, practically setting the world record for longest run-on sentence as he told you Peggy was alive. Now, your heart breaks at the sight of the dejected hero.

“He doesn’t even remember me,” Steve continues.

You want to cry for Steve and tell him everything will be okay. You want to invite him into your arms and hold him. Instead, something tells you to push that aside. You grit your teeth; your grip is tight on your phone. You have half a mind to book a plane ticket to…you don’t even know where they are, but you want to be there, dammit.

“Then do something he won’t forget, Steve.”

⋆⋆⋆

You rush through the halls, dodging white coats and crash carts.

Room 311, room 311, room 311…

An armed guard reaches out to stop you before recognition settles. You glare at him, but the delay causes you to rethink storming into the hospital room after Steve’s near-death experience. You peer at him through the window, pressing your hand onto the glass. With the stitches along his cheek, the bruising on his jaw, and the scrapes along his browline, he looks…fallible. Vulnerable. Human.

You make eye contact with the man sitting beside him. He looks unfamiliar to you, but the bruises and cuts on his face tell you enough. He gives you a slow nod before turning back to his book.

⋆⋆⋆

You and Steve lean in closely, pretending to be deep in conversation while you keep a watchful eye on Bruce and Nat. You lean against the Stark Tower wall while Steve stands in front of you.

“I knew it,” he whispers, testing the limits of his peripheral vision as he peers at his friends.

“Yeah?” you say, taking a sip from the flute of champagne.

He turns his attention away from the two to face you. “One hundred percent. It was a perk of being friends with Bucky–I could see the girls drooling from a mile away.”

“And if they were drooling for you?” you say, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah. Right,” he says, his eyebrows shifting upwards in disbelief as he takes a sip from his own drink.

“Maybe you just couldn’t tell,” you inform him.

“I think I would know, agent,” he tells you.

You reach out to adjust the collar of his shirt. As you pull away, your fingertips brush against his neck.

“I guess you would, captain.”

He gives you that dazzling, all-American smile before glancing at the bar. Nat looks up at the same time, locking eyes with Steve. He turns back to you abruptly, slamming his hand on the wall by your head in feigned nonchalance.

“Real subtle, Rogers,” you tell him. Tony rolls his eyes at the sight of you pinned beneath the captain’s body.

Steve drops his head, and you feel his hair graze your forehead. You’re glad he’s too engrossed in his embarrassment to notice that his proximity has made you dizzy.

“Shit,” he murmurs, stepping away. “Sorry.”

“Romanoff!” you call with a smirk. “Get the swear jar!”

⋆⋆⋆

“Can we talk about the mall again?” you question. So what if your words are slurring together a little, who cares?

Nat tucks her chin, willing you to continue with expectant eyes.

“So you mean to tell me…,” you begin slowly.

“Yes.”

“You look like that…And Steve looks like that…”

“Sure.”

“And your solution to avoid attention was to…”

“Kiss.”

“Kiss, right.”

You and Nat share a look before devolving into a fit of laughter.

“And it–”

“–worked!” Nat finishes. She takes a swig of her beer. “I’m good at what I do, agent. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Your eyes drop to the floor. You fiddle with the rim of your glass, before telling your friend:

“Tell me it meant nothing.”

Nat looks at Bruce, who has tucked himself between Dr. Cho and Clint. He looks on as Rhodey shares a familiar story, smiling and chuckling at all the right parts. He feels her eyes on him, and he gives her a smile that feels like home.

Her eyes move to Steve next, America’s hero for the better part of a century. He’s unmistakable. He commands attention, and he deserves it, too. He stands tall, knowing the world is always watching.

Finally, her gaze lands on you. You’re incredibly capable, magnificently skilled, and you would deny it all in a second. Her most humble friend, who declines the most notorious assignments to bask in the solace of the less glamorous work instead.

She reaches over the bar to place her hand atop yours. With all due respect, fuck Lillian with the lip piercing, and fuck Kristen from Accounting. Steve’s perfect match is right in front of her.

⋆⋆⋆

You feel your airways functioning again as the weight of the couch is lifted off of you. You swallow lungfuls of air, and the sudden intake causes you to choke and cough. Warmth radiates from strong hands on either sides of your head.

“Hey,” Steve croons. “Hey, I’m here.”

“Actually, I wedged myself between the couch and the floor,” you groan through the sharp pain in your ribs, “in hopes that Thor would rescue me from the big metal man.”

Your poorly-timed joke catches Steve off guard, and he finds himself laughing as he searches you for any hidden injuries.

“Yeah, you definitely have a concussion.”

⋆⋆⋆

You watch as the unfamiliar number blinks on your phone, but something compels you to answer. Steve’s face appears on your screen, an apologetic smile painting his face. The last you heard, the Avengers were following a lead on Ultron before going dark.

“Steve! Are you okay?”

He peers around him. You can make out a sunny window, rustic decor…is that a child’s toy?

“I can’t stay for long,” he says. “But–yes. We’ll…figure it out.”

He sees the concern on your face, and he knows what you’re about to say:

“What can I do?”

“Lay low,” he says, almost immediately, recalling how Ultron nearly ended your life with Stark’s god-awful furniture. “Keep yourself safe.”

You rub your temples. It’s as if you’re being dragged back to SHIELD’s dissolution, hurtled into a life of mystery and solitude that you hadn’t asked for.

You see a wave of red as Nat pushes her head in between Steve and the camera.

“At least five bad language words since we got here, agent,” she says. You laugh, already picturing the look Steve is giving her behind her curtain of curls. “Wish you were here.”

“Me too.”

Steve watches her walk off, and then waits a few moments longer.

“I saw her,” he tells you, his face dropping all signs of amusement.

You shake your head, trying to piece together what Steve wants to tell you.

“She said the war was over, that we could go home,” he continues. “Then I was back, here. On the ground. Alone.”

“You’re not alone, Steve,” you insist.

But he doesn’t quite hear you.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve scoots into the booth, unbuttoning his black suit jacket. You take the seat right beside him. He lets out a subdued sniff and asks you how the convention went.

“I know the world needs you to be big and strong,” you tell him, “but I don’t.”

You open your arms, and he chuckles before resting his head on your shoulder. You envelop him in a hug, rubbing his back.

“Never ask me about those boring fucking conventions again,” you murmur, feeling his tears fall onto the shoulder of your blouse. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Steve.”

Steve fishes around his pocket and brings out his compass. At the press of a button, it opens, revealing a photograph of Peggy. She looked breathtaking, with her strong jawline, perfect curls, and fierce gaze. Steve hesitates, then passes the device to you. You move your arm from Steve to hold the memento with both hands. You run your finger over the photo’s fading edges.

“And she liked you?” you jest to cover the emotions that are running through you. Why are tears prickling your eyes?

“Once,” Steve responds with a chuckle as you pass him back his most prized possession, “a long time ago.”

He sits up, stiffening. Before you can question the change of demeanor, he confesses, “I…can’t sign the Accords.”

You give him a faint smile, as if it hasn’t been the topic of discussion at the Madrid convention. You were more than happy to meet him in London, especially if it meant getting away from chatty politicians with pesky questions.

“I know, Steve,” you say, holding his face in your hands. You run your thumb down his cheek, erasing a drying line of tears. You ignore how the air leaves your lungs as Steve’s eyes flutter closed and he leans into your touch. “I know.”

⋆⋆⋆

“You’re too good to be down here, agent.”

Sharon pauses her scribbling to punctuate her sentence with a smile.

“You know this is where I like it,” you tell her from the other side of the bulletproof panel. Sharon slides the sign-out sheet back to you. You stifle a laugh as you read that Go Fuck Yourself has signed out two quantities of kiss my ass. Right before you buzz her into weapons lockup, she stops you.

“Wait,” she says abruptly, startling you. “Are you sure?”

Since the day you took him to the boxing gym, you have become Steve’s safe place. In times of need, on the run with Nat or holed up in Clint’s home, he desperately wished you were there. Never mind the comforting touch or the distracting joke, just your presence beside him was enough to turn the weight of the world into a bag of feathers.

Now, Steve has called in a favor. Get the shield and the wings to Sharon, and she’ll cover the rest. No big deal, just betray the federal entity you work for and be indefinitely on the lam. Run, and don’t take any chances.

“Never been more sure in my life.”

You press the button harder than you need to, and the door swings open. Sharon steps through, taking in the towering rows of weapons.

“Whoa,” she says. The massive basement room was the perfect place to house all of the CIA’s most dangerous arms, including Captain America’s shield and the Falcon’s wings.

You lead Sharon through shelves of alien technology and massive guns.

“Might’ve been less sure if I had a metal hand punching me into the wall, though,” you say, looking back at her as she tries to rub out the pain in her back.

She snorts and shakes her head. “I’m glad you were far away from that mess,” she says earnestly.

“Didn’t really have a choice. When we went into lockdown, I was shut in.”

You shudder as you remember the weapons rooms’ light cutting out suddenly, plunging you into darkness. An agent had announced a code red over the walkie, and you sprinted towards the door–just in time to watch the metal gates slam down. You had pounded on the metal, desperate to escape. Your gut told you what–or rather, who–played a role in the Code Red.

You grunt as you pull on the box. It falls to the floor with less grace than you hoped, and Sharon tugs it open. She lights up at the sight of the vibranium shield, her smile wide and her eyes bright. She catches your eye and immediately drops her smile.

With a shake of her head, she apologizes and says, “Um…thank you.”

⋆⋆⋆

“West entrance, thirty seconds,” Nat tells you. You hear her tapping on her keyboard, and the doors in front of you hiss open. You creep quietly into the darkness of the Raft corridor, with Steve following closely behind.

Steve presses his fingers to his ear. “We’re in.”

“Wait for my signal,” Nat murmurs. “You have three minutes to take down the guards, then about five minutes after that before their backup arrives.”

“Eight minutes?” you say incredulously. “Steve, she thinks we’re amateurs.”

Nat snickers from the comforts of the Quinjet. “Just know, if you get caught, I’ll sleep soundly knowing I left both of your asses behind.”

You feign a horrified gasp. “Steve! Cover your ears!”

You don’t have to see him to know Steve is currently tilting his head in disbelief.

Nat cuts off any retort he might have had: “And now.”

You and Steve move in unison. He takes a boot to the door, and you spare no time to fire a hailstorm of bullets into the room. Your attack disarms several guards and destroys the audiovisual equipment. Steve tosses his shield around the room, and it bounces off the remaining guards, knocking them to their feet.

You place your foot on a guard’s chest, nodding at Steve.

“I’ll keep them here.”

The captain disappears into the cell block. You can hear the distant sounds of Steve breaking through jail bars, followed by triumphant cheers and joyous reunions.

Your earpiece crackles; Nat is switching you both to a different channel.

“Now’s as good a time as any,” she tells you.

You stare past the doorway, not quite sure how to respond. She continues: “We don’t know when we’ll see each other again. We’re fugitives now.”

A few minutes later, Steve reappears, a proud smile on his face.

“They’re headed to the jet,” he says. “We did it.”

You force a smile back at him as he leads you out of the room. His arm extends to your waist and you hold your breath; but, he continues reaching until he can close the door behind you and break off the doorknob. As he pulls away, you capture your hand in his. You love the way he laces his fingers between yours, almost reflexively.

“Steve…”

We don’t know when we’ll see each other again.

His eyebrows scrunch in concern. Were you injured? Did a guard send out an emergency signal? But your expression tells a different story; his cool blue eyes could bore holes into your skull. You can only stammer, so Steve speaks instead.

“Wherever you go,” he says, unlacing his hands to instead place it on your cheek, “I can always be there. You just say the word.”

You close your eyes. You won’t know when you’ll see him again, and you lean into his touch, pressing his hand harder into your cheek.

“Two minutes,” Nat’s voice, barely audible, comes over your earpieces.

Steve pulls you into a hug.

“Check in. Stay close. Don’t take any chances,” he whispers.

How could you? The biggest chance you could’ve taken just slipped through your fingers.

⋆⋆⋆

“Oh my god! Thor?!”

Steve practically scoffs, scratching at his beard.

“I’m good, thanks,” he says. “How are you?”

“As good as I could be,” you say. You look around the feeble apartment, a micro-studio with a bed and a kitchenette. You landed in Shanghai after abandoning post, figuring one of the most populous cities in the world would be the perfect place to go into hiding.

Steve doesn’t seem to like that answer.

“I’m so sorry.”

“That a grown woman made a decision?” you scoff. “Sure, I forgive you, then.”

You raise a chuckle from him, and he feels that familiar sensation of relief and comfort at the sound of your voice. Steve made you a vagabond, but you held on tight to your favorite title of smartass.

“How about you?” you say. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he says, pushing long strands of hair away from his face.

“You with Sam? Nat?”

“Nearby.”

“Bucky?”

“With a friend.”

You blow through your lips.

“Sharon?” You say your friend’s name as if it were a throwaway line.

Steve squints at you through the screen, and you shift uncomfortably on your mattress. Your eyes dart everywhere–anywhere but your phone–while you wait for his response.

“No,” he answers. “No idea where she is.”

You purse your lips. You weren’t sure what you wanted to hear, and you feel an odd mixture of happy and sad all at once.

“Are you just checking in?” Steve wonders. “Or–?”

“Yeah,” you quickly answer. “Checking in.”

Silence settles for a few moments, before Steve tells you: “I wish you were here.”

You give him a measly “me too” and a sad smile.

“Soon?” you offer, though it’s the emptiest promise you’ve ever given.

“Soon,” is his response, the biggest lie he’s ever told.

⋆⋆⋆

You promptly withdraw your pocket pistol, peering around the corner. You knew it wouldn’t be long until the CIA found you, but, damn, you just got to Cape Town. With your finger on the trigger, you step out of your hiding spot…

…and are greeted by familiar blue eyes.

“You said stay close, right?” Steve says with a smile.

You call for him breathlessly. Your body suddenly feels like jello and your knees threaten to buckle underneath you. Your gun nearly slips from your grasp as you run forward, right into Steve’s welcoming arms. He locks you in a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. You feel your feet leave the ground as Steve lifts you, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to burst into tears.

With only the occasional video call being your only form of communication, you’ve nearly forgotten what Steve looks like from the shoulders down. When he puts you down, you hold him at arm’s length and stare, as if you’re trying to commit him to memory.

“Steve,” you say his name again, still reeling from the fact that he’s here, he’s really here. You shake your head vigorously. “You can’t be here–it’s too dangerous–”

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I couldn’t go without you.”

“Go where?”

⋆⋆⋆

You squeeze your eyes shut as the aircraft passes through the translucent panels. When you open your eyes, the panels are behind you. The warrior piloting the plane smiles at your shock.

Steve watches you the whole time, captured by the sense of wonder painted on your face. He reaches over to squeeze your shoulder.

“Welcome to Wakanda.”

A small welcoming committee smiles brightly as you and Steve step off of the aircraft. Steve goes straight to a man with a bun, while the other two approach you.

“Greetings, agent,” the king greets you. “I am–”

“King T’Challa,” you say, meeting his handshake with fervency. “Your highness, it’s an honor.”

“The honor is all mine,” T’Challa responds with a smile. He gestures to the younger woman beside him. “And this is Princess Shuri, my sister.”

“Princess,” you greet. You reach your hand out, but quickly shift into a fist bump as Shuri reaches out a closed fist.

“Agent,” she responds with a grin. “I hope you will find your stay enjoyable.”

“Are you kidding me?” you say, then realizing you’re speaking much too casually for royalty. “I mean–the plane ride was easily the most luxurious experience of my life. I’m not sure how you’ll get me to leave.” Shuri’s grin spreads wider.

“I apologize, but we must be going,” T’Challa says. “But you have everything that you need, I assure you.”

You peer over at Steve, who grips the brunette’s shoulder as he laughs.

“And if you don’t,” Shuri calls as she and her brother take their leave, “you can ask any of the bald, mean-looking women.”

“Shuri!”

“They’re the Dora Milaje,” the man beside Steve explains as they approach you, “Wakanda’s elite warriors.”

Steve chest swells with pride as he introduces, “This is Bucky. My best friend.”

Bucky’s shakes your hand. He doesn’t wait for you to introduce yourself, instead saying your name to you.

“Heard a lot,” Bucky says with a smile. You glance at Steve, surprised that you’ve been a topic of discussion for the two.

“All good things,” Steve says, grinning at his best friend.

“Oh, great things,” Bucky adds assuredly as you feel your ears burning.

⋆⋆⋆

Ayo, one of the warriors, spares a few moments to meet you and Steve. She stands solemnly as you sit on the grass, your palms rested behind you.

“Bucky is, um…?” You’re not quite sure how to ask if the man is still capable of snapping your neck without an ounce of regret.

“We are working on it,” she says, keeping her eyes forward. You follow her gaze, watching as a group of children do and redo the best friends’ hair. Steve’s hair is first in a high ponytail, then two low buns. He catches your eye and waves, a wide grin on his face. You wave back as he and Bucky laugh at each other’s hairstyles.

Ayo follows Steve’s gaze back to you.

“We had arranged two bedrooms…”

You sit up straight with wide eyes.

“Th- And that’s totally fine.”

“It is no issue.”

Ayo walks away as Steve chases some of the children, feigning fatigue as they run away giggling.

“It’s a good look for him,” Bucky comments. Bucky is eyeing the three ponytails on top of his best friend’s head, but you’re taking in the sight of Steve consoling a child who has fallen. He gestures elaborately, as if casting a magic spell on the scrape. The child laughs and runs away, instantly remedied.

“It is,” you murmur.

You feel Bucky’s eyes on you, and you clear your throat. “Was–Was he like this before, too?”

Bucky cheeks puff as he releases an exaggerated exhale. “Hell no.”

“No?”

“Worse, so much worse. Insufferable, really.”

Steve jogs up to you. “They call you White Wolf, Buck? Do we all get nicknames?”

“Maybe,” Bucky says with a shrug. “You could be…”

“White Man,” you offer, earning a disbelieving look from Steve and a hearty laugh from Bucky.

“Or,” Bucky says, “I can tell them that Peggy called you–”

Steve shoves his friend, earning another laugh from the brunette.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve leans his forearm against the window. Below, the city lights dance, bright glimmers against an otherwise dark night.

“It’s good for him here,” he tells you with a smile on his lips.

“Wakanda looks good on you, too,” you say. The bed shifts as you stand up, joining Steve at the window. Wakanda is absolutely beautiful, and you understand why the country is hidden away from the rest of the world. “Maybe you should stay here.”

“Maybe we should,” he suggests, “but clearly their space is limited.”

You and Steve peer back at the singular bed that occupies the room.

“I told Ayo–”

“And I told Bucky–”

“It’s no big deal, right?”

“Right,” Steve says, mirroring your doubtful tone.

You both gingerly approach, like two idiots who have never seen a bed before. He cautiously approaches one side while you approach the other, slipping in and leaving as much space between you as possible. Steve scoots closer ever so slightly, but grabs a pillow, fluffing it and placing it between you two.

You and Steve spend a few minutes staring at the ceiling until your eyes form warped images in the darkness. Eventually, he sighs. You turn to ask him what’s wrong, but instead see him take the pillow and toss it across the room.

“Fuck it,” he murmurs, pulling you into his muscled chest.

“Language,” you mutter. But your eyelids already feel droopy as sleep pulls you under. Tonight, sleep smells like sandalwood and feels like heaven. Tonight, your dreams are blonde wisps and bright eyes that threaten to pull you into the ocean deep.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve is just broad shoulders and sullen disposition from your spot in the darkness.

“...Tony Stark, also known as the hero Iron Man, has been reported missing…”

“Get your things, Steve,” you say, stepping out from the shadows.

You’re the only thing that can pull Steve away from his racing thoughts. He forces his eyes off the screen, away from the image of a grinning Tony.

“Where are we going?” he says as you reach out to tug on his shoulder, a silent urge to gather his things. His hand finds a home over yours, holding it in place.

“Edinburgh.”

⋆⋆⋆

You start the search again, maybe the fifteenth time in the past five minutes.

The bar slowly fills up, reaching one hundred percent…

No results found.

“Nothing, Steve,” you tell him, your voice hoarse. Thanos might as well have vanished.

The captain is still for a moment before his hand comes down on the console table. After the glass breaks and the books clatter, you can only hear Steve’s deep breaths as he tries to calm himself. He takes long strides towards the door.

No results found.

“Steve–don’t take any chances. We’ll find him,” you say pleadingly. “He knows we’ll find him.”

As Steve mourned Bucky back in 1944, he wished he had something to bury. A final home for his best friend. A meeting place for him to visit. Something, anything to remember him by. Now he has his ashes, and he realizes how stupid he was to think it would bring him any relief.

No results found.

“Then he should be here to tell me himself.”

You flinch as the door slams shut behind him.

⋆⋆⋆

You pull a brown plaid shirt from Steve’s closet. You hold it up to his frame.

“I should’ve told you this eleven years ago,” you say as you pull the shirt off its hanger, “but you should really size up.”

He chuckles as he takes the shirt from you, slipping it through his arms. You begin to button the shirt as Steve looks on through the mirror. These days, he’s not quite sure who it is looking back at him.

“I don’t know what to tell them,” he says. If he wasn’t so numb, he might feel anxious. His stomach may have flipped at the thought of the support group sitting in a melancholic circle, staring at him, waiting for his words of wisdom.

You give him a sad smile, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He captures your hands in his before you can pull away.

“Tell them what you told me,” you say, and your hands slowly slip from his grasp. “About Peggy.” You give one final tug on his shirt before sending him on his way.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve looks anxious at your weekly dinner. He pushes around the contents of his plate without taking a single bite. You watch him, waiting for him to speak. When nothing ever comes, you ask him yourself. He drops his fork, finally stopping his nervous assault on his sliced carrots. He can’t stop thinking of Scott Lang, waving at him from the security cameras.

“What have you heard about…time travel?”

⋆⋆⋆

“Buck, can I…talk to you?”

Steve’s hesitant question causes you to put down the bandage. You’re not quite sure why Steve called you to the compound at this hour, and you’re even more unsure of why he was nowhere to be found while you made yourself comfortable in the kitchen. You feel lucky enough that Bucky made his way down, looking for something to sterilize his wounds. Usually, you would kill time talking to Nat, but–

“Sure,” Bucky answers. He gives you an unreadable look as he disappears with Steve into his room. You keep yourself busy, cleaning up the used medical supplies, until the super soldiers reappear. You see Bucky’s jaw clench ever so slightly; otherwise, he is nearly expressionless. He approaches you, nodding towards Steve. You slip off of the kitchen counter stool and Steve places his hand on your lower back, leading you into his room.

His room in the compound is nearly bare, save for what Tony has furnished himself. Not even the record player that he proudly found years ago, the only possession in his former SHIELD apartment.

You sit at the edge of Steve’s bed while he moves his armchair and plants himself in front of you. He takes your hands in his, leans forward, and stares earnestly into your eyes.

“Steve?” You can’t ignore the feeling churning in your gut.

“You have been so good to me,” he begins. The inner parts of his eyebrows raise up in sincerity. “And I just want to say thank you.”

“You’re…welcome,” you say, a quip getting lost in your confusion.

“Tomorrow, I return the infinity stones.”

You nod. You knew that. He knew you knew that.

“And…I’m not coming back.”

You let out a wry chuckle. “Don’t worry,” you say, finding your voice suddenly hoarse. “You know Dr. Banner will make sure–”

“The last stone I have to return is in 1949,” he explains. Are you shaking your head at him? Is your entire body quaking? You’re not quite sure. “And I’m going to stay.”

I love you, Steve.

I love you so goddamn much.

I’ve loved you from that moment you sat in Fury’s stupid, flimsy chair.

I’ve loved you since you looked at me like I was your entire world, all because I took you to the worst gym in New York.

I’ve loved you in every moment, in every iteration, in every semblance of you.

And Steve Rogers, I know you love me, too.

You want to reach for Steve’s hand, but you’re frozen, and your clammy hands stay rooted in your lap. You give him a smile that you hope looks genuine.

“You had a date.”

⋆⋆⋆

You leave Steve behind in his room, insisting he didn’t need to walk you out. Insisting you didn’t need to spend the night, or ask any more questions.

Bucky leans against the kitchen counter, unmoving. You move to stand beside him.

“He can’t,” you whisper as you approach. Your fists are clenched so tightly that you’re nearly drawing blood.

“He made his choice,” Bucky responds. He matches your hushed volume, but his collected tone contrasts your panicked timbre.

“He can’t,” you say again. Maybe he didn’t hear you correctly.

“It’s his life,” Bucky tells you, in the same even voice.

“He can’t.” Your knees can’t hold you anymore. You’re falling, and Bucky catches your wrists in an effort to keep you from slumping to the ground.

You fight against his grip. You find the sides of your fists beating against his chest. Bucky falls with you. His cold eyes stare ahead, into the darkness beyond the compound. Your tears are hot, pouring onto your face like streams of lava.

He can’t

⋆⋆⋆

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

You watch the best friends pull each other into an embrace. Bucky’s smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

Steve turns to you, and your bitter frown turns into a painted smile. His muscled arms pull you into a hug next.

“Check in,” he says.

“Stay close,” you respond, closing your eyes and breathing him in. Your eyes squeeze shut as you pull him into a tighter embrace. When you release, Steve flicks away a stray tear from your face.

“Don’t take any chances.” He lingers a moment too long with his hands pressed against your jawline, his eyes searching for something unknown in your expression. Eventually, all too soon, he steps into Dr. Banner’s machine. At the press of a button, he’s gone.

Bruce counts down, preparing his machine for Steve’s return, one that you know won’t ever happen. Eventually, beside you, he and Sam break into a frenzied argument, but somehow they sound so far away.

“Sam.”

Bucky’s sharp voice draws the attention of the three of you. You follow Bucky’s gaze to an elderly man sitting on a bench. You can only see the back of his head, but you gasp.

Your feet are carrying towards the man, right alongside Sam and Bucky.

You can feel Sam’s perplexed gaze shift from you to Bucky.

“Go ahead,” Bucky urges.

You feel like you’re watching from miles away as Sam slowly approaches the captain. Every heartbeat feels like your heart is sinking further down into your stomach, and you force yourself to walk away. As soon as your back is turned, the tears flow freely. You stifle your sobs, disappearing behind a tree, out of sight from the other four heroes.

Bucky keeps his smile as he watches the astonished Sam receive the shield, just as he and Steve discussed. He sees the journey ahead for Sam, the man with a future yet to forge.

He glances back, seeing only a portion of you behind a tree trunk, heaving with the weight of your burdened cries. His heart aches for you, a lifetime of possibilities turned into memories of the past. The light at the end of the tunnel was simply a mirage for the woman left behind.

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