#anyways i'll keep my promise and stop rambling in the tags now

[chemistryread]

a 'what's next' for scorch and jake preview

a/n: there could be changes to this.

tagging: @thedroneranger @shanimallina87 @peakascum @cherrycola27 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @averyhotchner @sarcasm-n-insomnia @scoopsr0bin @loveforaugust @murdermornings @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @cornishkat @lovingperfectionsblog @thecraziestcrayon @untoldshortsofthefandoms

The sun is kinder at this hour, gently warming the side of your face as you remove your helmet. You can feel Pete's eyes on you from the other side of his aircraft, climbig out of its cockpit.

When he reaches you, the well-meaning furrow of his brows encourages you to pick up a pace, forcing the older man to look at the back of your head instead of your eyes.

"I'd say we're getting good at this whole flying thing, Captain."

You can imagine the small smirk on his lips.

"Think someone up at the high floors might notice us?"

That makes you laugh out loud. "Don't know if they have time for little guys like you and I, but we can dream. Anyway, we've got a prosperous, trouble-free career ahead of us and plenty of time to suck up to Admirals who will definitely like us very much. Right?"

"Hey, you're the one who wrapped your baby arms around my leg. I tried warning you."

"I was young and impressionable." Reaching the end of the tarmac, you turn to him with a faux wistful expression. That classic Maverick combo of a timid smirk and squinting eyes watches you, amused but perpetually curious. "Yes, Captain Mitchell?"

"I don't want you to overwork yourself. You're doing good. Don't get in your own head about it."

The specific sequence of words does not sound strange to you. Are your protective layers shedding with age? It's the only explanation you can find for how targeted your friends' remarks have been able to sound for a while now.

Your feet readjust on the spot, hands clasped in front of your body with uncharacteristic formality for the both of you.

"Is this because I asked if we could stay up there a little longer to see the sunset? A bit on the emotional side, I know, but- Consider it your first wedding gift."

His eyes take your stance with a cocked brow, earnestly stepping forward, an apprehensive inhale filled with interest.

"Are you nervous about that? You know it's a small cerimony, we're just happy you said you'd do it, it doesn't have to be a big-"

"I'm not." It's curt, raising your hand to stop his rambling. "Let's make sure I keep you away from failing engines, birds, my own bad judgement- Out of harm's way entirely first, get you to your bride in one piece, and then I'll feel performance anxiety over the speech. Sound good?"

It's not hard to pick up concern in Maverick's full, green irises. It's always there, anyway. And he's definitely not scared to bring it up. A preamptive sigh escapes your lips.

"I trust you."

Overflowing with confidence and care, melting your cold-natured shell with a simple shrug of his shoulders and a nod.

"I know, Mav."

Your tone is on the annoyed side, his stubborn eyes making you squirm, but you can't find it in you to walk away yet. Expecting to hear one more promise.

"It'll work." Not quite what you needed. Huffing, you look away, throat singing a muffled note of disagreement, which makes him impatient. "What?"

"'Lot of risks."

"Usually not something Scorcher-deterrent."

"I don't usually get to wingman." A sharp, shooting pain in your chest. A feeling of impotence. "My job is to guarantee that you'll be fine."

There he goes again, looking up at you with certainty he simply expects you to share.

"Which is exactly how I know I will be fi-"

"That kind of talk is for friends and family, Mitchell. For me, it's counterproductive. I have to think about it. I have to consider it, worry. Or do you want me to believe you favored me for this mission because you're biased and not because you know I've got that same strain of unease you do about watching someone else's back? There's something sacrificial in you, and it's in me too, isn't it?” You seem to forfeit breathing, eyes stinging, canine showing. Don’t cry. “And the Navy may not openly encourage it, but it sure comes in handy, and you know that very well. That's why you chose me. So let me do my job."

Chest rising, you think about your backseater and her family asking why you didn't try harder. You think about Rooster's father, seeing it in Pete's eyes that he's doing that too. You think about Jake. And you finally get the urge to leave, hide.

"Is this really about flying?"

Maverick's good intentions. You hate them, you're so grateful for them. You'd never take them for granted.

"It's about everything. But it's fine, comes with the, uhm- You know. I got it."

"Have you talked to him?"

Scoffing, you look around the hangar, almost apprehensive someone will reprimand both of you for gossiping at work.

"Of course not." You turn back to Maverick with folded arms and a dismissive head shake. "But this isn't about that."

You can see it in your friend's face. It's about everything but him?

Lying to Maverick causes an involuntary physical reaction, as if you’re going to fall apart in pieces, clearing your throat to cover for it.

"It was always going to be like that. I prepared for it, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. But what you two did, you don’t not talk about it." He copies your standoffish posture. It's mocking, grinning up before he frowns again when you don’t react. He inhales sharply, trying not to sigh. "He RSVP'd for this weekend with a plus one. Not a problem, then?"

"Not a problem, Captain." You enphasize the title, straightening your posture as you watch some younger pilots walk by. "Thanks for letting me know."

Maverick raises his eyebrows, licking his teeth. Assessing. "Penny was concerned."

That makes your blood boil. Such a personal situation bleeding into so many lives when you didn't even allow that.

But you bite on your tongue, giving the couple a free pass for the weekend.

"It is pretty." You chuckle at Maverick's puzzled head tilt, pointing behind him. "The sunset."

"Right," He turns around to squint at the softening orange light, but his gaze slips back to you quickly. "See you at dinner?"

Your shoulders tense up thinking about what kind of traps they could set for you, turning to face the short man with a glare.

"Yes, Captain." When he smiles, you know to brace for some bullshit. He punches your shoulder as light as he can, which is still too much, and you cry out embarrassingly. "Jesus fucking Christ."

Standing there massaging your sore muscles, you let the the afternoon hue slowly take you to him. The sun reminds you of his hair. The clear sky reminds you of his sarcastic, obnoxious laughter when you were flying. The warmth reminds you of everything.

--- FLASHBACK ---

5:39 AM

The gym's floor is cold. Awake since two, working out from four to five. Maverick told you to meet him fifteen minutes before the usual start. You had showered and returned to the gym, not knowing where else to wait.

5:41 AM

Your eyes don't leave the pointers, nails digging into your thighs. Two days where you couldn't quite control your breathing. You should've gone with Coyote.

5:42 AM

It's just the machines, and the freezing sterile air, the colorless skin of someone who isn't recovering…

An attempt to inhale turns into a gasp, the butt of your hand massaging your sternum to soothe the tightening.

5:43 AM

A light turning on in the hallway forces you to stand up, jumping to your feet and hoping the captain doesn't get too upset over your lateness.

Your eyes are trained on the floor as you step out into the hallway, deep in thought praying Mav isn't pulling you aside for a heart-to-heart. That's more than your sleep-deprived brain can handle right now.

With a full exhale your gaze lifts right into a figure walking towards you.

His right shoulder sags to the side with the weight of the bag. Quickly scanning the rest of his body, he seems alright otherwise.

"Jake-"

As your eyes land on his face, his seemed to have been watching you the entire time.

He walked slowly, your feet springing back to life and cautiously bringing you closer. No smiles or other cues to assure you things were okay.

When you both stop, your mouth goes dry and the room feels drained of oxygen. Eager to unravel in apologies, you'll never understand why it's so much harder to say sorry when you mean it.

"I wanted to visit you at the hospital."

The rest dies inside your chest. Are you supposed to tell the person who went through an ejection that it was too hard for you?

It feels like ages since you've seen any warmth in the green of his eyes.

His eyebrows raise with an air of irony.

"What is it they say, the good die young, right? Doesn’t sound like me."

Despite the wink he throws you, his voice is weak and doesn't have even half of the attitude commonly attributed to Hangman. Playful tone now replaced by a short breath pushing you away.

He doesn't see the deep frown twisting your features down your face, walking past you with ease.

"Your shoulder, do you want-"

A dismissive hand gesture is all he gives you.

You should get rid of the lump in your throat before you meet Maverick's stumbling good intentions.

The bag slips from his shoulder to his fingers before he gets to his dorm, stopping to catch his breath, hand flexing as if invisible strings try to pull him back, in the direction you went. To you.

Of course his first encounter back at base would be with your somber face.

It seems he could only try and fail to not favor his romantic side. Jake had imagined a whole scene of waking up to your teary eyes and lopsided smile next to his hospital bed, a confession after he (kind of) nearly died. You had walked back on your words before, he could dream.

But you didn't show. And now the petty devil on his shoulder screams at him to fight back.

So he fantasized a different scenario, promising himself he would stick his chin out and breeze past you the next time he saw you. It's comical he has to talk himself up like this but if you wanted nothing to do with him, he would show you he has never had a problem moving on.

Then he noticed the bags under your eyes and the uneven buttons of your shirt, a visible distress unbecoming of you.

He knows you're not the most expressive person. He knows you've lost someone to an ejection before. Despite your stubborness, he knows you struggle. He knows you.

God, you could string him along, on and off, for several eternities if you wanted to - if only you wanted to.

When he steps through the threshold, Coyote has a quip at the ready and he greets him with a forced grin.

"Just in time to pack your bag and leave this dry desert, huh? Smart bastard." Javy zips his bag, and he chuckles. "Had time to think about how you're spending the next few months?"

Jake can feel the muscles in his face morph into a mix of mischief and self-satisfaction.

"Back to old me."

[malectober]

Happy Valentine's folks!!

Or, more accurately, happy Malectine's!!! (I propose changing the official name to Malectine's Day. What's better, naming a holiday for romantic love after a hateful bigot who got none anyways or after Mr. Lovey-Doveys?)((By hateful bigot, I mean Valentine Morgenstern ofc. I'm sure St. Valentines was a delight))

Ehem. Anyway. I have decided to host a teeny tiny little Malec event this Valentines. Sponsored by a lil bit of time from my finals study sessions.

(I'm getting paid in sanity, not money btw)

((please help me NOT lose my sanity during finals, which, funnily, start the day after Valentines))

(((My only date for Valentines is, unfortunately, biochemistry. I'd really appreciate seeing some proper lovely chemistry that day instead of the kind that sucks my soul dry)))

((((okay I'll stop rambling now))))

Anyways. *clears throat* *dramatic flourish which Magnus would approve of*

Introducing the Malectine's Roulette Challenge!!

In this challenge, you're gonna spin a (virtual)

Now, here's how you can participate:

Step 1: Have a tumblr account (Ao3 account is optional)

Step 2: Spin the virtual roulette here to get a prompt!! There’s 7 prompts, each of which is from the Valentine’s week list thingy.

Step 3: Take your prompt and go wild with it!!

Step 4: On Valentine’s Day, post whatever you created here on tumblr (and if it’s a fic, in the Ao3 collection which I’ll link below) and tag @malectober so I can reblog it here!!

Now, before you go all spinning about, here’s a few ground rules and other information:

Please don’t spin more than once 🥺👉👈 The whole point of the challenge is to, well, challenge yourself. Make the best of what prompt you get. It wouldn’t really be a challenge if you kept spinning till you got the prompt you wanted. (However, if you’re racking your brain and still unable to come up with a good idea, you may have a second spin behind my back). Now, I won’t know if anyone spins multiple times, of course, that’s between you and your internet, buuut that also means it’s up to you to keep the challenge authentic.

You can do anything!! Art, fic, edits, playlists, you name it!!

Interested in the challenge but not really a malec fan? That’s fine! Take a spin anyway and go for it, but you don’t have to tag me.

Nsfw content is allowed, as long as it is put under a cut (Read more)

Speaking of which, any and all content is allowed!! Even if it’s the goriest darkest whumpiest content a human can possibly make. Just make sure to add any appropriate TWs to the beginning, and in case of particularly graphic/triggering content, put it under a cut!

For fic, there’s no word count limits, minimum or maximum. You could submit in one single word for a fic and I’ll still accept it!!

You may tag your work with “#malectine’s day” and “#malectine’s 2023”. But do tag this account within the post so I can notice it and reblog!!

I know I’m calling it a challenge, but there’s no reward or winners or anything. The true treasure is the malec content y’all will create, plus some of that sweet sweet validation.

Most importantly, do not, I repeat, DO NOT hate on any of the participants or content submitted.

That said, enjoy the challenge!!

Again, here’s the link to the roulette (Please let me know in case either of the links don’t work)

And here’s the link to the Ao3 Collection

Lastly, just for funsies, here’s a poll

[whumperific]

Big ramble time (sorry lads)

I haven't posted anything original on here for a while so I apologise and I also apologise in advance for this long rambling post, don't read this if you don't want to anyway here we go weeeeee

Big man (me) has a tendency to get incredibly obsessed with something, usually a tv show, or youtuber or whatever, and then after a bit of it taking over every thought in my brain I end up moving onto something else and losing interest in that thing (uh oh hyperfixations). And the cycle continues and continues and so on and so forth. And I thought and really really hoped that 911 would be different, and it was different for a while, and of course I will never stop loving it but I feel like I'm finding it difficult to be as interested in it now as I was a few weeks ago, and that really upsets me because I love it so so goddamn much and I don't want to lose it because of my stupid brain being stupid.

I think one reason for this could be that, for the last month or so, my friend would come over every weekend and we'd binge watch 911 for like 24 hours straight and it was incredible and exciting and I loved sharing my excitement with them. But we haven't been able to do that for the last couple of weeks so that may have aided in decreasing my interest. We're going to do it again next weekend so hopefully that could help in some way

I don't really know what the point of this post is - I think I just feel bad because the majority of my followers and the people I interact with on here are 911 blogs, and I've promised that I'll finish my wips (fanart and fanfiction) but I just feel like I have no motivation and I feel really bad for that

I don't know, I apologise again, I feel like I just need to explain myself and give excuses and whatever for why I find it so hard to post stuff right now

Maybe some day I'll be able to get back into all of this but we'll see

I'm thinking a lot about university and art and I'm becoming so so so excited about the idea that someday I won't have to worry about anything except art (and generally keeping myself alive lol) and I've got so many ideas and I despise the fact that I still have basically a whole year left, and revision and exams before I get to just do art

A lot of the stuff I've been excited about recently are weird horror art things so I might be doing more stuff on @liminerific but I don't know

(I'm just gonna tag a bunch of people that I've interacted with so they actually see this @phantasmiczombiewhispers @rogerzsteven @loveyourownsmiilee @imsupposedtobewritting @repressedqueen @vampirebuckleys @paranoidbean @cm1031sr @name-code-black-widow @jacksadventuresinwriting I'm sorry if I've forgotten anyone)

I will probably finish some of my fanart wips eventually because I do really love them and I'd hate not to finish them

[kyber-crystal]

An Accidental Confession

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.1k

Summary: In which you decided to a record a message explaining your feelings for Steve in case you didn't make it out of your mission alive. You don’t have any intention of it actually being heard by him, but you have no other choice to face your fear when it’s accidentally broadcasted across the entire compound.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff haha with hints of a cocky steve hehe.

A/N: Some dialogue credits go to Descendants of the Sun! (yes, this is a oneshot of a scene from it, bc I love that drama with my whole heart) 

Tags: Dedicating this to @sylvie-writes​ because she’s an absolute SWEETHEART. I LOVE YOU BB. go follow her!

"Hey, Y/N, check this out!"

You glanced up from where you were furiously typing away at the computer to see Peter with a wide grin on his face. "Hm?"

"Look what I found! Mr. Stark's old speaker set!" The teenager went around to behind the table and rolled out the speaker in front of you. "It was a bit souped up, but all it really needed was some TLC and here it is, good as new!"

"Found this old thing while he was cleaning up," Tony explained, "you wanna hook your phone up and give it a go?"

"Uh...sure, why not," you shrugged, standing up and pushing your seat in, making your way over to the two of them. You took your phone out of your pocket and plugged it in.

"Check, one, two," Peter spoke into the small microphone. "Check one, two, three. Hey! It's working!"

You couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. "How old is this thing, anyway?"

"Older than me, that's for sure. Now play something!"

"Alright, alright. Let's see..." you scrolled through your playlists until you found the one you wanted, pressing 'play' and putting it on shuffle. "There."

"Fly Me To The Moon! May played it for me all the time when I was little," Peter exclaimed. "She always insisted I educate myself on older music. Now I'm glad she did."

Bucky and Sam stopped screaming at each other as they battled it out in Mario Kart, quieting down and humming to the beat as they held their controllers tightly. Wanda smiled to herself as she stirred the pot of soup on the stove, Bruce on the verge of falling asleep as he sipped his coffee at the kitchen island and read a news article on his phone. The energy within the compound seemed to lighten significantly as Frank Sinatra's soothing voice echoed off the walls.

You went out to the patio to relax, crossing your arms and closing your eyes as the sounds of chirping crickets and music mixed together in one soothing melody, the moonlight reflecting over the water. For a brief moment in time, you were at peace - and you relished in the temporary feeling of serenity. The 'city that never slept' was sleepy, for once. It wasn't all that late, but you were already beginning to succumb to fatigue's temptations.

But then, the song came to an end and switched off to something else.

"Hey, Steve. I hope this message never finds you because if it does...it means I'm most likely dead-" your all-too familiar voice came over the phone, thick with tears as you struggled to contain your sobs. "God, what am I even doing here? I have a gunshot wound that most likely pierced a vital organ so I'm just gonna bleed out here alone- why am I even doing this? I don't even know how much longer it'll be before you arrive with the evac team...so I just want to apologize in advance for not coming back to you like I promised. If I'd known I'd die in a foreign country, I would've lived a more carefree life instead of constantly worrying, like you always told me to just relax sometimes, I'm so, so sorry-"

Your eyes widened in realization and you rushed across the facility as fast as you could possibly go to the labs.

"Leaving words like this before dying is so uncultured- please, Steve...are you on your way? Please tell me you're on your way. If I'm really dying here I don't wanna die alone. Please hurry...I don't think I can last until you get here. Even so, you'll be the first to find me if I die, that is, if my corpse isn't dragged away or some shit like that - God, this hurts- I almost forgot how much it hurt to get shot...damn...I really underestimated the power of a bullet, huh?

Steve's bandaged fists fell to his sides, the punching bag swinging back and forth so wildly that it would've knocked him over if it weren't for his muscular figure. His brow furrowed in concern and he felt a small ache his chest upon hearing your voice crack - you never cried, and even if you did, which was extremely rare, you were good at hiding it from others.

But then a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips - you did ramble sometimes, and he found it rather adorable. It was, in fact, one of the main reasons why he admired you so much.

"FRIDAY? Where's the source of this audio?"

"It's playing from Mr. Stark's speaker in the lab, Captain," the AI responded.

"Thank you."

He unwrapped the tape from around his hands and exited the training facility, going into a light jog as he headed up to the lounge.

"If I knew that I'd die like this, then I would've told you my true feelings. That I'm in love with you and I really wished you'd kissed me when we were watching that movie together- it was Die Hard, wasn't it? I really wished you'd done something. We were sitting so close, and...I couldn't stop thinking about it. I was tempted to just run my hands through your hair and kiss you. And I almost did. I'm so in love with you, hopelessly in love with you...and if there's anything that scares me more than dying alone, it's probably thinking of a way to tell you, and the fear of being rejected by my best friend, my partner in crime-"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. You were in love with him? He felt his heartbeat pick up speed at the thought. He always held that small bit of hope in his heart that you'd feel the same way.

Just as Steve arrived at the labs, you came bursting through the doors with a look of sheer panic in your eyes, your face drained of all color. You quickly unplugged your phone from the speaker as he watched on in amusement.

"Want some, Mr. Stark?" Peter offered through a mouthful of popcorn, holding the bag out to his mentor. "Seems like we're in for a treat here."

"Where'd you get these, kid?" Tony questioned as he reached over and popped several kernels into his mouth. "Mm. Caramel, a classic."

"I always keep some with me. Never know when drama will break out."

Steve laughed and shook his head as you quickly turned around on your heel and sprinted out of the room. It was so unlike you to act like this - normally you were rather guarded and stoic. To see you as anything but was not only amusing, but adorable in his eyes - it was one of the many things he loved about you, in fact.

"Music...really changes a lot of things," Peter cleared his throat awkwardly.

The super-soldier cracked a smile. "I seem to be in the center of that change."

He said a few quick goodbyes went to find you, as Peter and Tony continued enjoying their popcorn together.

"Oh my god, I'm so stupid, oh my god, why did I even record that damn message," you muttered, finding yourself going back outside again. You needed to clear your head and get away from Steve. The secondhand embarrassment you just knew was waiting for you was almost too much to even think about - what would he think of you now? What would everyone else think of you?

Steve had beaten you to it and was already out there, leaning against the glass railing  with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing an amused expression on his face.

"Oh my god! You scared me!" your voice heightened to a shriek. "What the hell, Rogers? How are you here? Why are you here?"

"I know you like the back of my hand, sweetheart," he chuckled lightly. "You always come out here whenever you're restless or stressed out. Figured you'd try to flee as soon as you heard," he gestured back inside, "all that."

"That was none of your business!" you squeaked. "It was a private message, not meant for you to actually hear! It wasn't for you!"

"Well, you did announce it, publicly," he defended himself, pushing himself away from the railing and raising his hands in surrender. "And it sounded like it was for me. You said my name."

"It wasn't for you!"

"Then why'd you say Steve?"

"It's a different Steve?"

"A different Steve with a stealth suit, Quinjet, and evac team?"

"Y-yeah! B-but it's really funny. Why are you listening to other people's recordings?'

"Like I said, doll," your face flushed at the nickname, "it was broadcasted publicly. I didn't listen, I heard."

"Because you heard it, you carelessly hear it all the way through?"

He smirked. "You know, you're really cute when you're upset." He smirked, taking several steps towards you. You instinctively stepped back. "But why are you running away? When you were about to die you wanted to confess." With each step he took, you took another backwards. "But since you lived, you changed your mind?"

"Confess? That wasn't a confession. That wasn't me."

"This cell phone is yours," he held up your hand that tightly gripped your phone.

"This isn't a phone- Y/N, what the hell are you saying? Stop talking," you cursed yourself under your breath.

"It's an honor knowing I'm in your will," he said kindly.

"If you know then that's enough," you exhaled, stepping around him to leave. Steve stopped you by placing a hand out in front, before moving it to grip your wrist. You felt your skin heat up rapidly under his touch.

You gasped. "Look! Thor set the toaster on fire!"

"I'm not fooled, sweetheart."

You moved to try and leave again, but he only tightened his grip. "Whether or not it was a confession, I'm going to listen to it, so let's not run away, shall we?"

You were silent for several moments before responding, swallowing hard. "Okay. I got it. I'll answer you so let go of me and let's talk. Really."

"Really, right?"

He obeyed, releasing his hand from your wrist. You quickly moved around him and ran back inside. Steve just laughed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

"She finally did it," Sam nodded in approval as he and Bucky finished their Rainbow Road deathmatch. "Good game, man."

"Yeah, good game," they shook hands, "but if I'm being honest...I didn't expect things to go down like that. If anything, Steve seems like he'd be the first to confess. The way they're dancing around each other like oblivious monkeys...damn."

"Couldn't have described it better."

...

You flopped onto your bed, panting heavily as you stared up at the ceiling. Your heart was beating so fast that you felt like passing out. Maybe I'll just die like this and I won't ever have to confess for real, you thought. That sounds much better than death by blood loss from a gunshot wound.

"Hey, darling."

You sat up and let out a short scream as you saw Steve leaning against your doorframe, that damn smirk still on his face. "What the hell? You can't just ambush me like that! How long have you been standing there for?"

"Long enough," he chuckled, sliding his hands in his pockets and stepping inside. This time, you were too lazy to push him away, and just allowed him to sit down next to you at the edge of your bed. Steve propped his hand on his chin as he gazed at you, smiling.

You sighed and let your head fall into your hands. "This is all your fault."

"My fault?" Steve tilted his head in confusion. "How is this my fault?"

"Becau- never mind. I'm busy. I gotta go check up on the new lab I'm working on with Bruce."

You stood up abruptly, but he reached out and grabbed your wrist again. "I'm going to go to the labs, too. He asked me to help with a few things. I think you just found yourself an escort."

"I can go by myself, Rogers. I'm an adult," you gave him a pointed look.

"Ouch. That stung," he pretended to look hurt. "Last name calling? I thought we agreed on sappy pet names. And besides, you know what happened last time you went somewhere alone. You got shot."

"Whatever."

"Hold on," he tugged you back so that you had to sit down again. "Why do you keep running away from me? You confess your feelings in your will and then you run."

"It wasn't my will."

"You said you were scared to die alone."

"It wasn't me. Where is your bout of confidence even coming from?"

"I'm not asking how you feel about me at the moment. Don't feel bad that I found out how you feel about me. Because I'm in love with you too, and nothing can change the fact that I like you even more now."

You swallowed hard.

He smiled again. "And you look beautiful today, doll."

"Stop with the pet names," you mumbled. You couldn't stop the tremor in your tone as you spoke

"Hey hey hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Steve brought a hand up to your face, lightly skimming the tip of his thumb across your cheekbone to wipe away the tears that had fallen. "Hey. Tell me what's wrong, darling."

As soon as that last word left his lips, you lost it. A broken sob escaped from your mouth before you broke down, and he felt guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. Sure, he was lightly teasing you - but he didn't intend for his jabs to hurt you in any way. That was the last thing he wanted to do - to see you cry. He hated seeing you cry.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he whispered, carefully wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him, rubbing circles onto your back. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken the teasing so far. I'm so sorry, Y/N-"

It took nearly twenty minutes for your sniffles to die down and another ten for your crying to stop completely, but he patiently held you until you did. And when it finally stopped, it still took you several moments before you could bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"I look like a mess," you muttered, quickly ducking your head down to wipe at your nose. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this-"

"You look lovely, regardless," Steve murmured, kissing your forehead. "You'll always look beautiful in my eyes."

"You're such a sap," you mumbled, closing your eyes. "I hate you."

"You know you love me, Y/N."

"No I don't."

"That message told me otherwise. You sounded like you were pretty in love, judging by the desperate tone in your voice-"

"Shut up!"

"Make me," he challenged, a smirk appearing on his face.

You huffed and stood up, crossing your arms. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that, Rogers?"

"Watch your language-"

"Make me."

"Using my own words against me, are you?" Steve raised a brow as he stood up as well, walking towards you. You kept walking backwards until you felt your back hit the wall and internally panicked when you realized there was nowhere else to go.

"Shit," you whispered. "I'm not escaping this one, am I?"

"Not a chance," he chuckled wistfully. You felt your heart do somersaults and your stomach twist itself into knots as he met your eyes, a softened look to them that you'd never seen before - what was it? Just a few minutes earlier you'd find yourself squirming beneath his intense gaze but for some reason, you stayed put.

When his lips pressed against yours, you felt a crackle of electricity across your skin and the world fell away. It seemed as if time stopped and held its breath as it watched the two of you, his arm curving around your waist as his free hand rested at the back of your neck, pulling you flush against him. Though you were taken aback by the sudden gesture and terrified you wasted no time in reacting, sinking deeper into the kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips and fireworks exploded inside your chest - if there was a way to describe pure magic, this would definitely be it. And he felt it too - and he swore to himself that he'd never felt a bigger rush of adrenaline before until now.

You looked absolutely stunning to him in that moment as you pulled apart - with your half-closed eyes, reddened cheeks, and swollen lips - his doing, no doubt. Your gaze slipped down to his equally swollen lips and you felt your face flush at the sight. Steve was quick to catch what you were doing and pulled you back in for more.

This time, it wasn't as innocent and quick. It was more needy, passionate - months, no, years of pent-up frustration he didn't even know he had seeping into it. Years of not being able to tell you finally being poured out into one grand gesture - years of finally getting closure because he now knew the girl he'd loved for as long as he could remember felt the same way.

"Oh my fucking shit."

The two of you were practically gasping for air as you broke apart a second time to see a smug-looking Sam.

"You just- I didn't interrupted something between y'all, did I?" Sam cocked a brow. "Looked like you were this close to-"

"No," you exhaled, "we weren't."

"I'm a GENIUS for fixing that speaker! If I hadn't done so you guys never would've gotten together!" Peter squealed as he appeared by the Falcon's side. "I believe a thank you is in order!"

"I hope my timing isn't bad, but I have to ask," Steve cleared his throat and looked you straight in the eye. "that was a confession, right? And you didn't do it just because you felt compelled to. Be honest with me."

You let out a sigh of defeat. "Yeah...it was."

He broke into a gorgeous, million-dollar grin that made you weak at the knees. He leaned down, lips ghosting over yours as if he was going to kiss you again - but pulled back, much to your disappointment.

"I guess I'm the victor of this battle, huh," he whispered before releasing his hold on you and walking out, leaving you to stand there utterly shell-shocked and speechless as Peter and Sam began teasing you.