tag fic for you

PSA

I love every fanfiction author on earth !!! Thank you so much for using your own time to provide us with a free(!) story to read that is 10x better than every book I have read put in one!

For long fic writers: Your detailed fics are so amazing and you amaze me every single time with the amount of research and time you have put into your beautiful works! Whether I am looking to kill time or just want something to distract me you have provided me with that, and I am so glad we have writers like you!

For short fic writers: Your fluffy/angsty/smutty/all of the above fics are so nice to read after a long day! When I just need something small because I don’t have the energy for something long, you wrote something for yourself and shared it with us, and I am so glad that we have writers like you!

If you write fluff; Thank you so much! I love reading your self-indulgent fics. They are so sweet and adorable and those characters definitely would do that.

If you write angst; Thank you so much! I love reading your painful fics. I’m always excited to see how it will end and if things will ever get better.

If you write smut; Thank you so much! I love reading your own fantasies(or realities, or just what you chose to write). They make me smile and blush.

If you write romance; Thank you so much! I love reading about my otp falling in love over and over. Even if it is cliché, it’s also unique and I’m still  surprised each time.

If you write about platonic relationships; Thank you so much! I love reading about my favorite best friends and siblings. You bring something not often seen and your courage is amazing.

If you write crack; Thank you so much! I love reading your random fics. They make me laugh time and time again and even if they are weird and ooc, they are amazing too.

If you write anything else; THANK YOU SO MUCH! Whatever it is you write, it is amazing and I love it. 

I know my singular opinion doesn’t mean much when there are millions of people on this earth, but I want it to be heard!

I LOVE FANFICION WRITERS. YA’LL ARE THE REAL MVPS.

Giving up on a show once they kill off your fav and realizing it wasn’t that great of a show and you only liked it for one reason

hey uh I know s6 just happened and I enjoyed it a whole lot but I’m still stuck in that s1 headspace, ya feel?

Lance learns about Adam, and confides in Shiro

“So… we’re really going back?” Lance said in shock.

“Yeah, we are,” Keith answered, turning to face the rest of the team.

A small laugh bubbled in Lances throat. “I get to see my family,” He said, a fond look on his face. “I’m- so excited to see them again.”

“Oh man, I can’t wait to see my mom again,” Hunk piped up.

“I missed my dog,” added Pidge, nodding her head.

Keith turned to Shiro. “You excited to see Adam?” he teased, elbowing his brother playfully.

“Yeah, I am.” Shiro beamed at the mention of his significant other. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, a look of worry crossing his face. “I just-“ he sighed, “I’m worried he’ll be upset with me, for leaving.”

“Who’s Adam?” Lance asked gently.

Shiro looked up to the former Blue Paladin, “He’s my boyfriend, back on Earth.” he started, “Or, was.”

Lances eyebrows shot up, “Boyfriend?” He echoed before he could stop himself.

“Yeah, we were going to get engaged but then, I left- for Kerberos.” Shiro explained.

Keith placed a hand gently on Shiro’s back.

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be happy just knowing you’re home safe,” he said, comfortingly.

“Well, we’ve got a long journey ahead of us,” started Allura. “Everyone should head back to their lions for the night. Shiro, we set up temporary sleeping arrangements for you tonight,” she explained.

“Thank you, Princess,” Shiro nodded.

“Alright team, let’s get some rest,” Keith said, walking towards the black lion. The rest of the team nodded in agreement, bidding each other goodnight before parting ways.

“Hey, Shiro? Can I uh- can I talk to you? For a sec?” Lance called, voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yeah what’s up?” Shiro smiled warmly at the younger boy.

“Well, um-“ Lance trailed off nervously, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Shiro could sense his anxiousness, gently resting a hand on his teammate’s shoulder.

“Take your time, it’s okay,” he reassured.

“How-“ Lance took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “How did you know you liked- that you liked, um…” he opened his eyes, looking down at his hands.

“Boys?” Shiro supplied. Lance looked up softly,

“Yeah,” he whispered.

Shiro smiled at him, “Well,” he started, “I never had crushes on any girls when I was young, and when all my friends started dating I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Then there was this one girl, she really liked flying, and we had all the same interests.”

He laughed, “I sort of developed this… crush, on her but when she asked if I wanted to go on a date.” Shiro shook his head in reminiscent. “That’s when I realized I didn’t like girls the way my friends did. I started experimenting around your age. When I kissed a guy for the first time….” he smiled warmly, “It just felt right.” Shiro finished, looking at Lance.

“And when I found the right person,” he said, “Everything changed.”

Lance looked behind him towards the black lion, blushing as he turned back to Shiro.

“I’ve always known I liked girls but,” Lance took a breath, “I think I might like boys too.”

Shiro nodded, smiling at Lance. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come talk to me,” he said.

“Well, after seeing you be so open about it and so… happy…” Lance trailed off.

“Were people accepting?” He asked.

“There’ll always be those few people, ignorant in their ways who won’t understand; but, the support of loved ones outweighs all hate.”

“Thanks Shiro,” Lance said, feeling as if a small weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Now let’s get some rest,” Shiro suggested, walking towards his temporary cabin.

Lance started to the red lion.

“And Lance?” Shiro called.

Lance looked up at him, an inquisitive look on his face.

“Talk to Keith. You have more in common than you may think,” he winked before turning and disappearing into his cabin.

Lance stopped in his tracks, watching Shiro leave before glancing towards the black lion, a blush dark on his face.

“Yeah, I will.”

(Thanks to @official-florona and @romellespellingerror for editing my mess of thoughts)

in case you’re considering writing cute winter fluff this year might i suggest...

- sharing! a! long! scarf! 

- a being an ass and putting their cold hands on b’s warm neck 

- cafeteria tray/cardboard sheet sledding aka how to kiss your datefriend in a snowdrift bc you’re idiots and went flying into one 

- christmas! market! dates!!!

- hey the fire alarm in our dorm went off at 3am and you ran outside without a coat wanna share my blanket? 

- a learning how to make traditional holiday foods from b’s culture bc they’re homesick 

- decorating wars complete with Too Much Glitter ™

- ice skating dates and which one’s kinda unstable and clinging cutely to the other 

- is die hard a christmas movie? the debate (it absolutely is) 

- “i said UGLY christmas sweaters not nsfw christmas sweaters, we can NOT wear these, my boss will kill me”

- who peeks at their presents early and tries to hide the evidence and who actually loves the anticipation and wondering? 

- “would you like some hot cocoa with your mountain of marshmallows oh my god are you TRYING to put yourself into a sugar coma?" 

- fireplaces. ‘nuff said.

- "what made you think that putting a holiday sweater on our CAT was a good idea? i’ll get the band-aids." 

- you took me on a cut-your-own-christmas-tree-farm date & holy frick you make a cute lumberjack I WAS UNPREPARED 

- the power’s out & we’re snowed in, how on earth will we stay warm???

- you booked a snowy carriage ride through the park & i’m afraid of horses but you’re excited OH GOD HORSES ARE BIGGER CLOSE UP & GOING TO EAT ME 

- candy cane sword fights & how quickly they can escalate 

- your family sucks so you’re kinda meh on holidays, lets make some fun, new traditions together!

- we were going to go walking around the neighborhood to see all the pretty lights but you woke up feeling a bit under the weather and not up to being outside in the snow so i snuck out early this morning and made a video of them all for you so you didn’t have to miss out

Deviant Connor things:


🤖 Trying any hard alcohol for the first time, telling Hank that he would be throwing up if he was equipped to.


🤖 Taking a jaw breaker and biting it once, completely shattering it.


🤖 Doing the robot at any event where he can dance and has free time.


🤖 Tries to reason with Sumo to take a bath. Ends up in the tub full of soapy water himself with all of his clothes on showing Sumo how to get in without having to use force. Sumo doesn’t get in and now Connor is left in the bath, whispering to himself that he somehow failed his mission.


🤖 Glares at Hank when the older compares him to a claw machine, saying all robots are the same.


🤖 Tries swimming for the first time and does the dead-man float, pretending his circuits shorted due to the water to cause Hank to panic for a second.


🤖 Dresses up as Wall-E for Halloween.


🤖 Starts doing more human things, such as breathing, blinking, and taking sips of water occasionally.


🤖 Takes out his LED to celebrate being a Deviant/alive. Hank can’t read his emotions now more than ever.


🤖 Asks Hank to describe what it’s like to be human, and to Connor’s reassurance, Hank tells him that they are both equally alive.


🤖 Becomes Hank’s personal alarm clock every morning. Makes him breakfast of healthier foods, lays out juice instead of alcohol, and prepares his outfit for him along with the morning newspaper. Carpools with Hank every morning and tries his best to enjoy the heavy metal blaring.

9

my hands wanted to touch your hands

because we had hands.

Frank Bidart, from “In the Western Night”            (a tiny little something for @tristealven for her birthday. you are wonderful! and i adore you.)

If You Love Me, Come Clean

by @dreamsmp3withthethieves on AO3

Pairings: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne

Chapters: 15/15; 120k words

Rating: Explicit

Summary: “Can I help you?” Louis inquires, with a hand on his hip and the tone of someone who feels like doing the exact opposite. He’s already had enough of this character, and he hasn’t even said a word yet.

The tall and unkempt boy turns to face him. In a substantial contradiction to his overall rough appearance, his pale green eyes flash with child-like amusement. This only serves to agitate Louis even more.

“I don’t know, can you?” the yet-to-be-named boy utters with a teasing tone, striding towards him. Louis focuses on his voice, which is low, and husky, and not sexy at all. He sounds like a chainsmoker, Louis notes to himself, and this observation is in no way an attempt to distract himself from how incredibly disarming the boy looks up close.

Louis pulls his thoughts together in time to respond, “Well, that depends on how much of my time
you’re planning on wasting.”

Or, AU in which Louis works at a recording studio where Harry’s ‘up and coming’ and ‘exciting’ soon-to-be famous indie band has just signed a deal to record their debut album at, and Louis’ never even heard of them for Christ’s sakes, but that doesn’t stop him from repeatedly catching the eye of the raven-haired, eyeliner-wearing, and slightly dangerous-looking frontman (but he’s not interested, he isn’t.)

thank you to @louiswantstomarryharry for making me this edit and also thank you to @melmanpur for letting me use your manip!

4

My favorite pictures of Tom (Peter).

imagine a warlock, but not a great warlock. not a high warlock, not even a medium warlock, but just the most generic of warlocks. she can’t really summon demons, her potions are like 60% successful, and the only two things she can do well are glamour her warlock mark and make this pretty kickass salve that’s great for congestion. she’s been city-hopping since she were born in the 1920s, but now she’s in a podunk town that she actually really likes because everybody’s really nice and nobody judges her for being a pretty lame warlock since nobody knows.

anyway, she gets an invitation in the mail one day for a party. the party. the party that all warlocks are invited to, regardless of how lame they are, because the warlock population isn’t that big and the higher-ups always want to keep tabs on all the littler warlocks roaming around. she’s excited, partially because the prospect of seeing her warlock friends is always great, but mostly because she knows that the warlock she most looks up to will be there. it’s not like she’s obsessed with magnus bane or anything – it’s just that in the warlock world, he’s something of an idol to her. she knows he’s amazingly powerful, that there are rumors about him being the son of a greater demon, and that he has the best clothes, but the reason she really admires him is because she met magnus bane once when her mom took her all the way to brooklyn when she was 11 for a consultation, and he spent an entire afternoon and evening teaching her how to perfect her glamour. after she finaly figured it out, he refused to take any money from her mom, and also made sure to tell her before she left that magical aptitude is nice, but that it really didn’t matter so long as she was happy.

so on the night of the party, all she’s hoping is that she can at least see magnus bane from afar and thank him from a distance. her friends are late, so she’s standing in the back corner on her own, nursing a rum and coke, when she sees him.

magnus bane.

he’s standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a lot of faces she doesn’t recognize – except, is that catarina loss? – laughing and gesturing and looking absolutely gorgeous. his hair’s different and he’s got a goatee now, but he’s otherwise exactly the same, and it’s just so exciting to see him again that she starts babbling to the person right next to her, who happens to be a – shadowhunter?

she’s a little wary, to be sure, but the guy doesn’t stop her. she tells the shadowhunter about how she met magnus bane once, how it’s really inspiring that he’s always protected their people, how if there were collectable famous warlock cards she’d definitely have twelve of magnus. she knows she’s being kind of embarrassing but it’s been nearly a century since she’s seen him and this whole night is just a huge adrenaline rush for a warlock like her.

the shadowhunter listens really nicely. he nods at all the right spots, laughs pretty loudly when she talks about how much she loves magnus’ outfit, especially the way he lets his suspenders hang around his waist because wow what a look, and helps her get a refill of rum and coke when she’s done with her first. she doesn’t really get a lot of information out of him, but she’s pretty sure he’s important if he made it here. downworlder/shadowhunter relations have been improving recently, but only just barely; she makes sure to tell him this, and he nods, listening carefully when she talks about how the nephilim she encounters never respect her because they know she isn’t powerful.

she keeps talking – she’s a few drinks in now and her motor mouth is running free – when the shadowhunter stops her. “do you want to meet him?” he asks. “who?” she answers dumbly. “magnus,” the shadowhunter answers promptly, using his first name like they’re friends or something, and before she can get an in my dreams out, the shadowhunter is gesturing for her to follow him. they weave through the crowd, between high warlocks and – oh, is that susan? – before they stop at the perimeter of the circle magnus is currently standing in.

“oh, alexander!” she hears, in a tone so warm and sweet that it takes her four seconds to realize that those words came from magnus bane’s mouth. “what’s this?”

“just wanted to introduce you to someone,” her shadowhunter – alexander? – says, nudging her forward a bit. she nearly trips, but manages to keep her feet under her as she looks up into the kind, brown eyes of magnus bane, who’s smiling at her while simultaneously reaching toward the shadowhunter, who moves to magnus’ side, wrapping an arm around his waist as he presses a kiss to magnus’ temple and ohhhhhh jesus.

she can’t believe it. she’s been blathering on about magnus bane for the past forty-five minutes to magnus bane’s partner? his boyfriend? his husband? his person.

“uh,” she says eloquently before trying to spin around and make for the door (she wishes she could portal out but she’s kinda bad at portals), except the shadowhunter stops her with a raised eyebrow and pointed look. she shuffles back in front of magnus bane, raises her chin, reaches a hand out, and says, “thank you.”

he shakes her hand as he asks what she’s thanking him for, so she proceeds to tell her story again, the words he’d spoken back then, explaining sheepishly that she’d already told the shadowhunter – who turns out to be alec lightwood, head of the new york institute, because of course he is. magnus laughs warmly at that, his necklaces clinking as he throws his head back, and she notices the way the shadowhunter’s eyes smile as he watches magnus.

they keep talking. she tells him about her little town and compliments his suspenders, while magnus grins and tells her how happy he is to hear from her and that she’s got a fabulous winged eyeliner. the whole situation is surreal, because this is magnus bane, and she’s just an average warlock, and they’re having a normal conversation.

somehow at the end of the night, she’s calling magnus bane magnus and calling the head of the institute alec (apparently magnus is the only one who calls him alexander? it’s kinda bizarre) and now she has magnus bane’s phone number saved and explicit permission to call when she wants to. she’s pretty sure it’s a fever dream, except magnus hugs her and she can definitely feel that he’s real between the huge muscles of his arms. and when she finally starts to head for the door, feet trudging a little slowly, she turns to wave and watches as magnus band and alec lightwood wave back at her.

and she just… she shrieks a little before running out the door and nearly breaking her kitten heels. because holy cow, oh my god, what a night.

Ya know I was thinking about Deceit (as I do) and I think I just realized something

So y’all remember way back in ‘Nostalgia’ how Patton spent most of it lying and/or hiding how he really felt?

And then in ‘Can Lying Be Good’ how Patton, who is able to know what was going on, isn’t even slightly surprised or upset to see Deceit with the others?

Why do I have a feeling theres a chance there was a Trade and/or Deal that was made between them, something along the lines of ‘help me lie convincingly and I’ll give you a chance in the future up until you get caught’ sorta thing

Maybe Deceit had permission to ‘be Patton’ for an episode

Just a thought

Psst don’t tell @beebeedibapbeediboop I’ve been reading her fic 🥧


Katsuki looked down, fighting down the petals with all of his might. Leaving his voice behind, his mouth formed the words again, a reminder to himself:

“Just friends.”

He closed his eyes.

There was a cough. Then another. And more and more, gravely and scratchy and painful-sounding, until there was, fluttering to the ground, a single damp rose petal.

But it was not Katsuki’s.

go read roses are red and they taste like shit by @unbreakable-red-riot i’m begging you

kirishi-gay  asked:

For the sketch request, anything Kiribaku!! Soft kisses, or pining bakugou, just them soft in general would absolutely make my day, month, year. I absolutely love your art, and I love seeing you draw them!!

Waking up earlier was probably the best non-decision of his life ~
(heavily inspired by the fic 2am knows all secrets that i’m currently reading ~~ i hope you don’t mind ;v;/ )
I’m so happy that you like my art !! thank you for requesting ♥

An Elves beauty

After the Hunger was taken care of, after the battle, after everything has calmed down there was alot of catching up to do. The Taaco twins left their friends and lovers to spend time alone together. Lup giving Barry a kiss and Taako tightly squeezing Kravitz hand before the two take each others arms and start walking off to any where they can be alone.

They end up curled together in Taako bed in his old room at the Bureau of Balance. With out and umbrella in the way to stop conversation and physical contact they held each other close and talked non-stop. The warmth and the noise surrounded them, the comforting sound of their siblings voice made them feel safe and protected.

Then Lup asks a question, something that most would think is nothing, a small question that doesn’t hold a deeper meaning then the words said. But they both knew what she meant when she said, “Can I see your face?”

She wanted to see him with out the spell he casts and recasts everytime it ends. She wants to see what happened in wonderland.

It was quite for a moment and Taako looks away from her eyes for a moment before there’s a change in his appearance and he goes from gorgeous to plain. His lips less plump, his eyes less bright, his hair a mess. Lup let’s out a breath she was holding in and Taako laughs weakly, “I guess you’re the pretty twin now, huh?”

Lup smiles and pulls him closer to her chest. She runs her hand threw his hair for a while before pulling away and looking into his eyes.

She wipes his tears, which they will never mention to anyone, not even each other, and smiles at him.

“What are you talking about?” She laughs, “Look at those lashes, I could never beat those. And you’re freckles, I’m still as jealous as ever.”

Lup goes on and on about how he is still a sight for sore eyes, breath taking to everyone who’s ever been lucky enough to see him. Taako laughs as tears roll off his cheeks and as his sister wipes them away.

When it’s silent and they are laying there, holding each other so they never loose each other again. Taako whispers a thank you and Lup squeezes his hand and he squeezes back. It’s the little I love Yous that mean the most to them. It means more than an elves beauty

Y.A.S

A/N: Back to aint shit Erik, cause ive missed him. This is just SMUT, and that face riding I been dying for. I know I posted twice in a day, imma give yall a break from me I just been on a roll man. lol

Originally posted by hoppelessssssss


You had no idea what you were doing, banging on his door at 1:30 in the morning but you had your friends to blame. You were at a bar with them, just down the street from Erik’s apartment. They bought you shot after shot while you complained about Erik for the 100th time.

Keep reading

the shrunkyclunks soulmates au

fic commission for @abijahm! I’d been feeling kinda meh at the time, and then they came around with this prompt and let me go full sap with it, which really helped! Thank you for such a lovely request! <333

Steve Rogers is 5 years old when he first ask his mom about soulmates.

Lucy’s mark appeared today, right in the middle of math class. Barely a few shades darker than her skin, but clearly defined, the ridges and furrows of the fingerprint perfectly sharp.

Half of his classmates also have similar marks. Phillip’s and Janet’s are a lot brighter, intense, just like most of the teachers’.

Sarah Rogers’ own mark is scarred, and has been for longer than Steve’s young brain can remember.

Steve winces when Sarah explains that the reason he doesn’t have one yet is most likely that his soulmate is yet to be born. He winces because he’s 5, and for a 5 year-old, that age gap just sounds ludicrous. He’s practically all grown up himself already, and his soulmate is going to be a baby!

But Sarah Rogers just laughs warmly, tucks him in bed, and tells him not to worry too hard about these things yet.

And with that, Steve’s curiosity is placated. For now.

x

Steve Rogers, age 11, still doesn’t have his mark.

He wakes every morning and spends a good 20 minutes in the bathroom, carefully examining every inch of skin, hoping he got it during the night.

Most marks appear on the wrist or forearm. A few of them do so on the neck. Getting them elsewhere is extremely rare, but that doesn’t stop Steve from checking.

At this point in his life, though, the whole ritual is more about the excitement of getting his mark than because he fully understands the meaning it bears. He’s 11, and love, at least that kind of love, is still too foreign a concept, and not high on his priority list.

Sarah Rogers, on the other hand, tries her best not to worry too hard.

Ten years is a considerable age difference, but not unheard of, or even that rare.

She tells herself her boy will get his mark soon, and does her best to ignore that awful voice in her head that keeps pointing out that maybe the reason her son doesn’t have a soulmate, is that he’ll die too young to be able to meet them.

She never once considers the possibility of there being no one in this world destined to Steve, that no one will truly love him. Her son is special, and the world will see it.

x

Steve Rogers is 18 and his mom just died.

He’s long since accepted the fact that he doesn’t have a soulmate, that he’s never going to meet a person willing to look past his weak body and frail health and see him.  He’s mourned their loss, the loss of a person he never even had, and he’s, mostly, moved past it.

Today, though, as he buries his mom, the realization dawns on him that he’s utterly, irrevocably alone in this world. Today a mark would offer much needed solace. Reassurance that there’s someone out there waiting for him, waiting to meet him and put the pieces of his heart back together.

His skin remains the same. Bruised and scattered with cuts and scrapes and scratches, but otherwise unmarked.

He’s not a stranger to pain, but nothing, nothing has ever hurt like this.

x

Steve Rogers is 21 years old, and he should know better than to be hopeful. But Erskine tells him about the serum, about all the ways in which it’ll make him right, make his body stronger… and those things he would tell himself as a young, foolish kid, about how maybe it wasn’t that nobody loved him but that he was just too weak for his body to produce a mark, come rushing back to his brain.

He shouldn’t be hopeful, but he can’t help it.

The serum and Howard’s machine heal every cut and scar, and every other illness and ailment too, but they don’t give Steve a mark. His skin is completely unblemished.

Deep inside Steve knew it’d be like this, of course. Getting it now would mean his soulmate never loved him when he was skinny and weak, and if they only started loving him now… could they really be his soulmate?

He knew, but it still hurts.

x

At 26, crashing the Valkyrie into the ice is easy.

He’s leaving no one behind. Peggy and Gabe found each other. He’s keeping people safe, he’s doing the right thing.

Maybe this is why he was never meant to have a soulmate. So that when the time came to sacrifice himself, he wouldn’t hesitate.

He doesn’t.

x

When he wakes there’s a fingerprint on the right side of his neck, right below his ear.

It’s the first thing about this new world he’s waken up into that’s given some sort of meaning to his life. He stares in wonder at his reflection in the mirror for an hour straight the first time he sees it, fingers barely brushing over it as if touching it too much would make it disappear.

The contact with it makes his skin tingle a bit, warmth spreading through his veins from that spot. After having given up on ever having this, it’s overwhelming, and he can’t even begin to imagine how incredibly amazing it’ll feel when it’s his soulmate touching the fingerprint.

When the mark scars not even two years later, it feels like a cruel joke from the universe.

Steve should be used to this by now. To the disappointment, to feeling this lonely and empty, like he’s drowning and can’t come up for air no matter how hard he swims.

He avoids all mirrors whatsoever for three weeks, because the mere sight of it is enough to make tears well up in his eyes.

x

“Captain Rogers,” the AI’s voice comes through the speakers system. “Mr. Stark would like me to inform you that they are almost done with the upgrades, if you’d like to join them.”

“Thanks, JARVIS. Please tell him I’ll be right up,” Steve says, dropping his sketchbook on the couch. He grabs the white shirt he tossed over the back of the couch earlier to avoid getting any charcoal stains on it, and puts it on as he heads for the elevator.

“Of course, sir.”

For the past few months, Tony’s been working on developing a super high-tech prosthetic for war veterans and other amputees, capable not only of functioning just like the person’s real limb would, but also of feeling temperature and pressure.

The first test subject they selected was recommended by Sam, who knew him from the VA: Sergeant James Barnes, honorably discharged after a rescue mission that had ended with 26 civilian lives saved and him missing his left arm.

He also has a degree in mechanical engineering, meaning he can give much more precise feedback than someone without all that technical knowledge, which makes him essentially the best test subject Tony could possibly want. Tony practically peed his pants like an overexcited puppy when he told Steve about him.

ME degree or not, Steve’s read the interviews and heard the way Sam talks about the guy, and he’s really been wanting to meet him and pay his respects. He’d been out on missions during the first few tests and when James got the first prototype on, but he’d asked Tony to warn him the next time he had to come to the Tower.

He steps into the elevator and presses the button for the I+D floor.

x

The first thing he thinks as he walks towards the guy, is that Sergeant Barnes is pretty damn cute.

He’s got his head thrown back as he laughs about whatever Tony just told him, and it’s open and infectious and Steve can’t help but huff out a soft chuckle himself even though he didn’t hear what just went down.

“Capsicle!” Tony exclaims the moment he spots him approaching them.

Sergeant Barnes, still half-laughing, follows Tony’s gaze, turning to face Steve fully, and yeah, okay. Cute doesn’t remotely cover it.

He’s downright gorgeous. Legs for days and thick, powerful thighs. A broad, strong chest, clearly noticeable under the one-size-too-small grey shirt he’s wearing. A jawline that makes Steve’s finger itch for a pencil.

Steve has to clear his throat a bit when he comes to stand next to them to be able to speak without it coming out high-pitched and embarrassing.

“Sergeant Barnes,” he says, extending his left hand. “It’s a pleasure to be able to meet you at last.”

He realizes one second too late that maybe he should’ve offered James his right hand –the metal arm looks perfectly functional and, frankly, quite awesome, but Steve would never want to make any assumptions regarding the guy’s comfort levels–, but James doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

“Bucky’s fine,” James Barnes, Bucky, says. “And the pleasure’s all mine, Captain.” He smiles back at Steve, and takes the offered hand… and all the air in Steve’s lungs comes rushing out like he’s been punched.

It feels like his skin’s been set ablaze, electricity sparking from where Bucky’ hand is wrapped around his own and spreading throughout his whole body. Steve blinks, and it’s like the whole world has realigned and the man in front of him is its new axis. Like gravity’s lost all meaning, because now there’s an even stronger force pulling him unavoidably forward, towards Bucky Barnes.

Bucky releases his hold on Steve’s hand like he’s been burned and lets out a choked-out gasp. “Oh my god, was that–Did I shock you!?” he says a bit frantically, disbelieving. “I’m sorry I don’t know… Maybe the arm malfunctioned, I–”

Steve barely hears Tony exclaim “Malfunction!?” indignantly to their right.

“Bucky,” Steve cuts him off. He takes a small step into Bucky’s space and gently puts his hands on Bucky’s elbows, holding him in place. Bucky’s still stunned into silence, and Steve doesn’t want to overwhelm him, but he just needs to keep him at arm’s reach, to keep touching him. “It wasn’t–You didn’t shock me…”

As soon as his hands are on Bucky again, every atom of his body just sings. A soft, awed noise escapes Bucky’s lips, and Steve knows he must feel it too.

“Oh god. Did we…?” he starts, but can’t seem to get the words out. Steve nods anyway. “How?

“I don’t know,” he says a bit dazedly.

“Wait a second!” Tony practically screams, “You two bonded???

Steve winces a bit at his overexcited tone, definitely not feeling ready to deal with all this and Tony’s enthusiasm, but to his credit, Tony lifts a finger and closes his eyes for a second, collecting himself, and then simply tells JARVIS to start a few protocols and all but shoves Steve and Bucky into the nearest elevator, pushing the button for Steve’s floor.

Well, he did bond with both Pepper and Rhodey shortly after Afghanistan. He probably knows a thing or two about how this goes, Steve thinks.

They remain silent until the door to Steve’s quarters closes behind them, but it’s not a tense one.

They don’t quite hold hands, but they stand and walk so that they are always brushing together, fingers almost interlacing. There’s a smile dancing on Bucky’s lips and he looks like he’s two seconds away from crying, but also like he still can’t quite believe this. Steve’s pretty sure his own expression mirrors Bucky’s.

“Do you want to…?” Steve asks, gesturing at the couch. Bucky nods and sits down, and when Steve goes to sit on the other end to give him some space, he scoots closer until his hip is pressed right against Steve’s. It makes Steve chuckle, releasing some tension. “Okay,” he says.

“Don’t hold back for my sake,” Bucky tells him, resting his hand on Steve’s thigh. It makes Steve shiver a bit. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, forever. I didn’t think I’d get to have this, and I… I want it. Everything. You don’t gotta worry about it being too much too soon, or anything. I mean, unless it is for you, then it’s–”

“It’s not,” Steve says, and raises his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear on an impulse. It makes Bucky’s eyes flutter shut momentarily. “For the longest time I didn’t think I would have this, either. I never had a mark, not until after the ice. And then seven months ago, when it scarred… I thought I lost you. I hadn’t even met you yet, but…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, can’t. Bucky takes his hand in his and gives him a reassuring squeeze, understanding.

“I know,” he tells him. “That’s when I lost the arm, it was the same for me. I was born with a faded mark. You know, like when people change too much and fall out of love, and their mark starts to fade until it disappears? But mine never went away, it was just the way it was. No one knew what it meant.” He looks at their joined hands and then back at Steve, and smiles warmly. His eyes are the most amazing shade of blue Steve’s ever seen. “3 years ago, when they found you in the ice, my mark suddenly became sharp. Not bonded-sharp, but…  not all blurry and smudged anymore, y’know? I used to stare at it all the time before I lost the arm, just checking that it still looked okay.”

Steve chuckles a bit at that. “I kept checking my mark was still there. I’d been waiting for so long…”

At that, Bucky holds his gaze for a few seconds, and then slowly raises his hand to Steve’s neck and wraps his fingers around it, ever so careful. The touch is feather-soft, delicate. When he moves his thumb to caress Steve’s neck, the metal fingertip brushes right over Steve’s mark.

The sensation is like nothing he’s ever felt before. Like thunder and fire and a gulp of air after almost drowning. Like he’s flying, and free-falling. Like home.

The metal should feel harsh and cold, its ridges digging into his skin… but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Steve sucks in a breath and places his hand atop Bucky’s.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” Bucky says.

Steve shakes his head. “You’re here,” he counters. “That’s all that matters,” and he brings Bucky’s hand to his lips and kisses the inside of his wrist.

Oh…” Bucky breathes out shakily.

“Can you feel it?” Steve asks as he gently rubs the spot where his fingerprint would’ve been on Bucky’s skin before he lost the arm.

“Y-yeah…” Bucky tells him, staring at him in confusion. “I don’t understand, it’s metal. How…?”

“‘Cause it’s a part of you.” Steve says. “It is you. Fingerprint or not, the connection is still there.”

Bucky laughs softly. “Why do sound like you’re some soulmates expert now?” he teases, poking Steve in the ribs. “You don’t know if that’s true.”

Steve smiles right back at him, rests his hands on Bucky’s hips, and coaxes him onto his lap, so they can keep staring at each other without having to turn their heads. Straddling Steve’s thighs like this, Bucky’s just slightly taller than him. “It’s clearly true. We’re here, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Bucky agrees. He wraps one arm around Steve’s shoulder and uses the metal hand to tip his chin up. “Can I kiss you?”

Bucky’s breath ghosts over Steve’s lips as he speaks, the question alone sending a shiver down Steve’s spine already.

They have lots of talking to do. To get to know each other, to figure out how they’re going to do this. To test the limits of that mental bond that’s starting to form between them, just a general awareness of the other’s feelings and wellbeing.

For now, though, Steve just wants to kiss Bucky until he forgets how to breathe.

“Yeah,” he says. “Please, yes.”

Bucky’s smiling against his lips when he does.

My favorite Klance fics are the ones when they’re cuddling or something and Lance just goes “Hey babe you know I love you”

Keith, looking up from his spot in Lance’s shoulder “Huh?”

“…but if Hunk was at least a little bit gay, I’d leave you for him”

Keith, dead serious “Bitch, you’d have to fight me for him”