#But with Steve? that’s the love of his life

[shushmal]

Eddie pauses, his fingers stilling against his guitar strings. Steve makes a questioning noise, but doesn't move from where he's sitting on the ground, back against the log and his head still resting against Eddie's knee. And for a long moment, Eddie does nothing, so caught up in it all this—this life they've managed to scrap together.

They're thirty-eight, and they own a house, one with a big back yard perfect for a fire pit, a fence and a dog. Last spring a storm had blown down their oak tree, and Steve had rolled the trunk of it over to make seating, the rest firewood. On clear nights, they light a fire and sit next to the flames, and Eddie will play his guitar. And they're far enough out of town that the stars stretch endless, beautiful in the night sky above them.

That's the kind of night they're having now. And it's not what Eddie used to dream of—bars and stages and stadiums of fans. It's not his uncle's trailer and dealing drugs that Eddie thought he'd have to resign himself to. It's not even orange jumpsuits and prison bars, like he was scared of.

Eddie sets his guitar down, resting it against his seat. Steve finally looks up, brown eyes a little sleepy, and a lot content.

It's the kind of night that Eddie never even thought to want.

"Dance with me?" Eddie asks. He watches a slow smile stretch Steve's face. He's gorgeous, painted in campfire light.

"Getting sappy in your old age, Munson?" Steve says, even as he takes Eddie's hand and lets him haul him to his feet.

They fall into each other easily, because they do it every day—arms around waists, shoulders. Cold noses against an ear. Lips kissing lips. They know exactly how to fit themselves together, where their pieces meet and the edges line up perfectly. They sway there in the darkness behind their home, fire-warmed and holding each other. There is nothing but the crackle of the burning logs, the wind in the trees, the crickets and the night birds calling.

"Perfect," Eddie murmurs.

"Hm?" Steve hums, his fingers playing with the ends of Eddie's hair. He presses a kiss to Eddie's neck as they turn a little circle, dancing. "What is?"

"You," Eddie says. "This. Everything. I love this."

He can feel Steve's smile against his skin, knows with out seeing all happy shine of Steve's eyes, his scrunch of his nose, the dimples and the shape of his teeth. He's perfect, and he'll always be perfect to Eddie.

"You, too," Steve whispers. "I love this, too."

[ashwhowrites]

omg yay requests are open! Could you do smth with the concept of Eddie with a reader that is very affectionate with everyone but him, and when he finally confronts her about it, confused, and honestly a bit hurt, she’s forced to reveal her crush on him?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting ❤️

Why am I different?

Eddie was used to being treated differently. It happened all his life and he doesn't think it'll ever stop. He found a good group of friends who treated him like a human.

A new friend was introduced to the gang and Eddie couldn't get a good read on her. She didn't seem shy, very affectionate with everyone. Well everyone except Eddie.

Whenever she arrives somewhere, she greets everyone with a hug. Eddie only got a wave and a small smile. She sat close to others during movie nights, but whenever Eddie sat next to her she had so much space between them.

He was positive she didn't like him or that his rough exterior deserved judgment in her eyes. He was fine if she didn't like him, but he wasn't fine with being ignored and treated differently when he did nothing wrong.

He didn't know that it was the complete opposite. She saw him for the first time and swore she had never seen a man that beautiful. His skin looked soft and his face was flawless. He made her nervous and she wasn't sure how to react around him. So she tended to freeze around him, hoping if she didn't move a muscle he wouldn't notice the crush she had on him.

She would love to give him a hug, but then she's worried she wouldn't ever want to let go. To feel his chest against hers and arms wrapped around her, she'd probably stop breathing. She couldn't give him a kiss on the cheek like the others, she'd lose control and want to kiss his pink lips. She couldn't sit next to him without craving to crawl in his lap and feel his body heat for hours. She tried her best to talk to him but even then she could only get out a few words.

~~~

"Sorry, I'm late," Eddie apologized as he welcomed himself into Steve's place.

"No worries, it hasn't started yet," Steve said as commercials played on the television. Eddie scanned the room and sighed to himself when the only open spot was next to Y/N. He gave her a small smile and took the open spot. Her body tensing up didn't go unnoticed.

Y/N chewed on her lip nervously as Eddie's scent filled the room. Her mind was racing as she tried to distract her body from the fact that Eddie was only inches away from her.

She made sure she was as far to the one side of the couch as she could. Afraid if she touched him electricity would spark.

Eddie felt a small sting as he felt her body scoot away but he kept his eyes on the screen.

~~~

Y/N greeted the older gang with a hug and kisses on the cheek, working through the group. Eddie stood off by himself, watching as she embraced everyone but him.

"Hi Eddie," she said with a small smile, a nod in his direction.

"Hi," he said flatly. His tone caused her eyes to fall away instantly, but he didn't feel bad.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Robin called as she threw herself in Steve's passenger seat. Today, Robin, Steve, Nancy, Eddie, and Y/N planned a trip to the beach, and Y/N felt terrified. Not only would she have to be in a swimsuit in front of Eddie but he'd be shirtless in front of her. She made sure to pack sunglasses so if she found herself staring, it wouldn't be noticeable.

Eddie and Nancy slid in the car, leaving Y/N. She gulped as she noticed the middle seat was the only free spot.

"You don't mind sitting in the middle right?" Nancy asked, a smirk on her face. She knew all about the crush on Eddie and she enjoyed making Y/N's life hell.

"Oh... uh," her eyes looked over at Eddie, "yeah that's fine."

Eddie scoffed as he got out of the car, allowing her to move past him. Once she was squeezed in the middle, she let out a deep breath, glaring at Nancy. Eddie noticed the glare, his feelings a little hurt as he looked out the window.

The entire car ride Y/N was squeezed into Nancy's side, practically on her lap. Eddie wished it didn't bother him, but he thought Y/N was attractive, and he liked the personality she showed with her friends. He wished she would be like that with him, he wished she would give him a chance.

Once they arrived, Eddie fled from the car, stepping aside to smoke a much-needed cigarette.

"I think it bothers him that you ignore him," Nancy said as she watched him stand to the side.

"I don't know how to be normal around him!" Y/N whined, "he makes me nervous."

"Let's just try, small steps."

~

Y/N was soaking in the sun, keeping her eyes shut so she didn't constantly look at Eddie. Luckily, he was busy with Steve, so she had time to settle her thoughts.

She groaned when the sun went behind a cloud, ruining her tan. She opened her eyes, startled to see Eddie standing over her. She gulped as his frizzy hair shines in the sun, and how his sunglasses fit his nose perfectly. He stood shirtless, the sun beginning to soak into his pasty skin.

"We need to talk," he said, not letting her answer as he took a seat right next to her in the sand. His elbows dug into the hot sand as he held his body up, then his head turned to her.

Y/N was frozen, staring ahead as the waves brushed the shore.

"Look at me," he hissed, "and I won't tell you again."

She bit her lip as she ignored how hot her body was getting from his words. She turned her head, locking eyes with him through their sunglasses.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

Y/N shook her head immediately, "no" her voice was soft and shy.

"Then what's your deal?"

"Nothing," Y/N said, "I promise."

"Then why do you treat me differently? I get that we might be very two different people but you are judging me without getting to know me. And that bothers me."

Y/N had to give him credit for calling her out. He dealt with it for a while. She took a deep breath, fighting off the wave of nausea.

"I'm not judging you, and I never judged you. I have a crush on you," she admitted embarrassed, "you make me very nervous and I was scared. I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings." She watched his face for a reaction, holding her breath.

Then he began to smile. "You have a crush on me?"

She rolled her eyes at his cheeky smile and teasing tone. "Don't be an ass."

Eddie apologized, scooting closer. He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, looking at her. She matched him, taking off her glasses as she nervously looked into his eyes.

"I think you're pretty and I'd love to get to know you better," his words made her heart race. "How about a date?"

She couldn't believe it. Eddie Munson asked her on a date.

"I'd love that."

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxthx @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: I need the weekend to come so I can cum

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"Things aren't too bad. Not since I got my ass kicked," Vaughn chortles. "Mighta knocked some sense into this thick skull at last."

"Hopefully," you agree. "Mom said--"

"I tried calling. She didn't pick up."

"Oh..."

"Why-- Why should I even bother?" His humour fades to hostility, "and why are you acting like you're my mother? When she does answer, she just calls me a fuck up. Like I don't fucking know."

"Vaughn," you hum, "please, I'm not trying to piss you off."

"But you are," he snarls. "Always gotta ruin a good time, don't ya?"

You frown. This is the Vaughn you don't know. The one with the anger like a grenade pin. One tug and it's over. You sit back and wait. Arguing only fuels the flames.

"You're the one person who's s'posed to believe in me and you're nagging me about mom," he snarls.

You look away guiltily. You wonder how he'd react if you told him about Steve. If you mentioned that the reason things 'aren't too bad' is because you did something just as stupid as him. Somehow, you don't think that him knowing you do dumb stuff too will help.

He tugs at his cuffs. The guards come forward. You say his name again.

"Vaughn, please--"

"Piss off! Yeah, you meat head, get me outta here," he turns his wrath on the guard. "Waste of my time."

"Please, I didn't-- I just--"

"I told you not to talk about it no more," he barks. He did. You didn't listen.

Your eyes well. You don't know what happened to him. Where did all this anger come from? As you watch the guards unhook him and he stomps away, you can only think you may have made a good decision talking to Steve. At least there's someone in there who can help. Or try to.

You wiggle your nose and dab your eyes with your knuckle. That was embarrassing as much as it was scary. The guard on the other side returns.

"We'll bring the next early, miss."

"Thanks," you nod. You recognise him. You realise most of the guards must know your face too. It's so strange to think this is a normal part of your life now. That this has become your social life as late.

It isn't long before Steve appears. He sits calmly lets himself be leashed. He leans forward and takes the receiver. You still have yours in hand but it's against the table. You lift it.

"Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" He purrs.

Your cheeks draw tight, "how are you?"

"Mm," he narrows his eyes as he looks you over. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Steve," you swallow the dregs of your tears. "Really. It was an early morning."

He stares a little longer, the lines deepening in his forehead. His eyes meet yours. His aquamarine irises are speckled with gold and silver. He takes a breath and tuts.

"You were crying."

"No, Steve, it's nothing."

"That brat brother of yours," he nods as his expression turns dangerous.

"Please, Steve, not you too. Okay? It's... a sibling spat. That's all," you assure him. You wish you were as transparent as the window between you.

"I don't like that. I had family coming to see me, I'd be nice," he snarls.

"It's not your problem."

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You made it my problem when you started coming around." He insists.

You chew your lip, "I know..."

"I'm not complaining, so you know," he leans back. "Kinda used to ya now."

"Thanks," you utter grimly and stare at the desk.

"Hey," he says and your eyes flick back up. "I didn't drag myself out here to see you mope."

You swallow and push away the rest of your chagrin, "sorry, I... better?"

"How can that face get any better?" He winks. You squirm.

He's been more forward lately. You assure yourself that it's just him playing with you. He's bored and you're the only person he talks to that isn't a guard or an inmate.

"That's... Right. Um, I guess it was dumb to ask how it's going," you scoff at yourself.

"It's going good, now I'm here," he runs his hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks, "fresh shave this morning. Looking good, huh?"

You let your eyes focus. You can tell. His chiseled jaw is bare, not one speck of stubble. And his blond hair is parted and combed back. It's getting a bit long.

"You look refreshed."

"Well, I got something coming up later today."

"Another visitor?" You wonder.

"Lawyer," he shrugs. "No big thing. I got business on the outside still. Power of attorney or whatever."

"Mm," you hum.

"Boring stuff. What about you? Besides that idiot you call a brother, how's life?"

"It's life," you say. "Go to work, come home, sleep, it's all the same."

"Huh, sounds like being in here," he snorts. "Lonely?"

You don't realise at first, he's asking.

"I guess. Thought about getting a cat."

"Ah, you're young. Probably wait a few years before that," he chirps.

You tilt your head wryly, "no harm starting early."

"You're funny, sweetheart."

"Am I?" You wonder dryly.

"Well, the things they think are funny in here..." he makes a face. "You know, I wouldn't tell a lady all that, but it's low brow."

"Right."

"I'm still trying to figure you out, you know? Your brother, well, not to pile on top but he's not exactly a model citizen, but you, you're practical, considerate, you make stuffed chicken and pesto. I can't help but wonder how you're not adopted," he snickers.

"Life is strange."

"Isn't it? Never saw some girl knocking on my cell door but here we are," he drawls.

"Here we are," you agree. He smiles and bites his thumb. You shift as his eyes sparkle.

"I might never get outta of this place, but at least I can see a pretty face now and again," he growls.

Yep, at least he'll never get out. You just need to hope Vaughn doesn't get any time added and it will all be over soon. 

⛓️‍💥

It's the first night Steve doesn't call. You're a bit disturbed by how it seems to throw the whole evening off. It's not like you're friends. He's an obligation. You should be happy to have one less thing on your plate.

You take a long bath, your phone on the back of the toilet, the ringer set to chirp. But it doesn't. The soak isn't enough to ease your nerves.

If something happened to him, what about Vaughn? It's a selfish worry but you can't help it. How could that even happen? Steve has this invincibility about him. You just can't believe it.

You get out and dry yourself off slowly. You're achy from sitting on your ass all day. Admin work isn't very thrilling. You stretch and rub the cushion of your bottom, the muscles easing beneath the layer of padding. You've always had a bit extra. It never bothered you as much as it bothers men. Your brother used to beat up any guy he heard hurling insults at you.

It's not your biggest care in the world. You tend to eat those away. Your sweet tooth hardly helps.

You put on a night shirt and lay awake for a while. Even when you do sleep, it's not peaceful. You dream of iron bars and blood on the floor. You wake with a thumping in your temples.

You dress for work. Your stretch-waist grey pants and the silk blouse with roses on the collar. You pack your lunch and brew your coffee, honey and a dash of almond milk splashed in. You leave with your bag and thermos.

The traffic around the clinic is always clogged. You get in with two minutes to spare. You sit behind the window and the phone rings as soon as opening hour strikes. You're swept up in the demands of patients and doctors alike. One thing you can't complain for how quickly the days fly.

You eat your lunch in your car. You cherish the moments you're not surrounded by sniffling, coughing, and complaining. You head back in and finish the last half, yawning at the monitor.

It's even busier when you pull out into the street. You let the music flow into your ears and distract you. You tap the pedal as you slog along. Finally, you get to a side street and cut a zig zag across town. You pull up to your building and linger in your car.

You have this eerie feeling. You glance over at the unfamiliar car parked facing the brick. The sleek white muscle car is vintage and polished to a shine. Someone loves that thing.

You get out of your dusty Honda and snatch your bag from the passenger's seat. You tap your fob and enter through the side. You stop before the elevator and turn back. You should at least try to get a few steps in. You take the stairs.

You stare at your pointed flats as you drag your soles over the carpet. You smother a yawn behind your hand. A throat clears. You move over, thinking someone's coming your way. You stir in your bag for your keys. Your name brings your chin up.

You gasp and drop your keys. You teeter as you nearly spin and sprint away. Your bag slips and you barely catch the strap. You gape at Steve as he stands beside your door.

Silence wafts around you with the smell of cooking and laundry. He holds a bouquet of classic red roses. He sports a tailored suit in black that puts his prison uniform to shame. The collar is crisp and the tie perfectly knotted. His jawline is shaved and his hair is styled down to the strand.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets with a smirk.

You wordlessly bend to pick up your keys then stand and fix your bag on your shoulder. Your eyes glaze in disbelief and horror. A million questions flurry to a storm of terror.

"How..."

"Appeal went through. They turned over my conviction," he struts away from the wall. "These are for you, sweetheart."

You look at the petals then at him as he comes close. Your shoulders sag as you shrink down at the breadth of his shadow. He's even bigger like that. You shudder, the lack of barrier unsettling.

"I got you speechless," he intones and grabs the strap of your bag. "Look like you had a long day, let me take a load off."

He takes your bag then guides your hand to the bouquet. You close your mouth and gulp. He sweeps away your keys and hooks his arm through yours. You let him lead you to the door of your apartment. He swings it open and you flinch.

"Wait, Steve, how did you-- how do you know where I live?" You quaver.

"Told you, I got friends on the outside. You don't think I'd leave you unprotected--"

"Wait, wait," you plead as you face him, untangling your arm from his. "How is this real? How are you here? How- Why-- You don't think--"

"I think I spent months talking to you and you spent the same time coming to me. It's not what I think, it's what I know," he insists. You choke.

If his conviction was flipped, maybe that means he isn't so bad. No, no, you heard of what he did in there. He's dangerous. Whether he did what the court said he didn't or not.

He waves you in, "come on, we can take it slow. We'll talk, like old times."

You shake your head but enter. You see no other choice. You're too stunned to think of any.

He follows and pulls the key free of the door before shutting it. He hangs them on the little hook beside the frame. He faces you as you focus on slipping off your flats. He puts your bag on the top of the small shelf where you store your mitts and whatnot.

He whistles, "you look... good. I mean, I never got the full angle." He steps back and you feel him raking you with his eyes. "Got a nice shape..."

"Steve," you snap and face him. "I... I never..." you pace yourself and take a breath. "The flowers are lovely, thank you. And I appreciate you coming by but I think there's a bit of a miscommunication." You turn and slowly inch away. You spin around as he watches you, his expression betraying nothing. "I only talked to you to keep Vaughn safe."

He sighs and his eyes narrow. His brows tilt slightly and his jaw squares. He nods and smooths the front of his jacket.

"Well, sweetheart, I went and got a new suit for you."

"I'm sorry--"

"No, get this," he strides forward and stops before you. "Whether it was for me, for you, or for that scum you call a brother, it happened and it's not over. You got me? I might be out but I got men inside. Men who are willing to do a lot worse than me," he snarls.

You shudder and he grabs your chin. You whimper. "I wanna be nice to you, sweetheart. That's all I've been dreaming of. I went out, got all dressed up, got you flowers, now you do me a favour, go put a dress on so I can take you out for dinner." He sniffs and squeezes just until your jaw throbs, "see, I'm still doing stuff for you. I'm not asking much except you to come out and look pretty."

He lets go and you stagger back. You sniffle and quickly hide your face. Your voice comes out hoarse, "I'll put these in water first."

Your heart races and you go into the kitchen. You find a vase and focus on filling it. You put the flowers in and toss the paper cone. He looms in the doorway.

"I'll find something to put on, okay?" Your voice cracks.

You cross the kitchen and he stays firmly in your path. He brings his knuckle up under your chin and forces your face up.

"Smile, sweetheart," he growls. "We're together. At last."

[stevie-petey]

﹂gasoline (s.h.)

﹂contains: fem!reader, slow burn, roommates to friends to are they lovers ? (worse), messy feelings and situationship, sexual tension, alcohol dependency, unhealthy coping mechanisms, probably unrealistic depictions of band life in the 80s but idc the vibes are there.

﹂playlist

it starts out simple enough. photograph the februarys in exchange for a cheap place to live. all you have to do is go to their gigs, take a few pictures, and hope that they like them. it starts out simple enough. until the bands frontman, steve harrington, begs for more.

track one: i wanna get off - a friend from college offers you a job and a place to live. its pretty hard to turn down. free concerts, you get to do what you love, and steve harrington will be your roommate. its a shame hes too pretty for his own good.

track two: but youre such a tease - now officially the februarys concert photographer, you hit the road with them on tour. how bad can three months be stuck inside a small tour bus with steves needy hands and songs reserved only for you ?

track three: you did me bad - with tour winding down and an album set to be released, tensions inside the tour bus grows. when the already blurred lines between you and steve get crossed, the fallout of your relationship nearly sends the band spiraling as well.

track four: but i wanna go faster - recording an album is hard enough when the person steve has written every song for cant look him in the eye. its even harder when said person is also his roommate. and it definitely doesnt help that the rest of the band thinks its steves fault. now hes stuck on yet another tour bus with you. and everyone else. for six months.

track five: gasoline, pretty please - screaming crowds and flashing lights with steves name on everyones lips. everyones lips but yours; the lips he cant forget. when you get offered a job that would force you to leave the februarys behind, steve only has one last chance to beg you for more.

⌑ status: COMING SOON

⌑ main masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

[happypopcornprincess]

Chapter 1 || I Can See You

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - At a glamorous gala, Y/N's life intertwines with Joaquin's. A pact ensues, while a dangerous mission looms.

Word Count - 2.8K

Warnings: SMUT, Angst, Mentions of blood, domestic violence

a/n - This story is based between the events of Endgame and Brave New World. In this AU, Tony Stark survived and the New characters of the MCU are on the way to be the new recruits of the Avengers. Hope you guys like this <3

Series Masterlist

Avengers Compound, Post Endgame

If it wasn’t for Pepper to quite literally threaten you to attend her Annual Charity Gala, you wouldn’t even be here. The atmosphere around you was straight out of some high society drama. The grey walls of the newly reconstructed avengers compound were covered in silver tones, a huge silver chandelier hanging in the middle of the hall, there was laughter in the air, and everyone was dressed to the nines. 

Just how a party was supposed to be… when the host was the one and only Pepper Potts. Tony was there too, even though his hand was still recovering from the snap, but he was cheery and loud as always.

You sipped your champagne in silence, standing far away from the dance floor. 

You were chosen by Sam from MIT to help the Avengers. You had trained with the new recruits, Kate, Peter… They were good kids. Training with them was… well, it was something. Sam was great, and helped you all adjust. Honestly, the Avengers? They were intimidating. superhuman intimidating. But you had your strengths. Sharpshooting was always your thing. And you threw yourself into the training, every single bit of it. They told you it was for intel missions, to keep you out of direct harm's way. But that wasn't enough. You wanted more. Because you were not aiming for 'safe.' 

You were aiming to be an Avenger.

Your job was to figure out how Kingpin just vanished into thin air after Christmas. The task has taken over your daily routine after you met Kate Bishop. It’s been months of interviewing eyewitnesses, going on the streets undercover, nights of no sleep with a shit ton of coffee, and just when you think you’re about to solve it… you meet a dead end.

“Trying to hide behind the curtains again are we y/n?” Bucky’s voice made you look to your right, and there he was. Standing next to you wearing a sharp three-piece black suit, his hair slicked back.

You finally understood what Steve meant when he would say girls back then would throw themselves at Bucky.

He turned to you in disgust, “Are you checking me out?”

“You wish, asshole.” You mutter in your glass.

You and Bucky had developed an unlikely friendship after the blip bought him back. He was pardoned, and moved into a quaint apartment complex deep in the city, unknown to the fact that you lived right next to his place.

On a stormy night after the nightmares won’t let you both sleep, sharing one bottle of whiskey between you was all it took for you to spill your life to him. You have turned into each other’s best friends and occasional love life advisor, although it was kind of a package deal.

Which is why you knew the reason he was so dressed up for the first time since you met.

“You see Sam anywhere?” he asks you nonchalantly.

You give him a sly smirk, “Why? Can’t wait to shove your tongue down his throat?”

Bucky gives you a sideward glance, and goes back to looking at the crowd.

He was still figuring out his feelings towards both men and women, especially towards one man.

Returning from the Flag Smashers situation, he would not shut up how ‘annoying’ and ‘frustratingly righteous’ Sam Wilson is, how his smirk makes him want to ‘strangle’ him.

You asked him one evening if he was having a ‘full-on-bi-panic’ and he threw a pillow at your face.

“y/n! there you are!” Sam bellows as he walks towards the two of you, wearing a crisp grey suit over a white button up, looking as dapper as always.

“Sam!” you laugh, giving him a tight hug. He was your mentor, someone you looked up to. And hopefully your bestie’s future boyfriend.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!” he threw you one of his classic smiles as he retreated.

You look down to the pastel pink knee length dress you were wearing.

Hustling the life of an avenger straight out of MIT, it was the only dress you owned. And after paying for it out of your own pocket you realize fancy dresses cost a hand and a leg, and you refuse to part from it.

“Thank you Sam I-” you were about to thank him but stopped once you noticed him absolutely gawking at Bucky.

“Hey Bucky.” He smiled.

“Hey Sam.” Bucky gave him a nod.

You almost roll your eyes at the exchange, wondering when they will move on from the weird talking phase.

“Hello.”

An angelic voice interrupted your train of thoughts. Looking away your eyes meet a pair of the warmest brown eyes. He was standing behind Sam. A tall, tan-skinned man, wearing a crisp black suit stood in front of you. His curls fell on his forehead, and his smile was intoxicating.

He looked like a high surf tide; calling out for you to test the waters.

You extend your right hand, smiling at him. “Hey, I’m y/n”

He held it with his right, it made your heart race when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his hands warm and his lips soft, sending a jolt through your body.

Oh, he’s mischief alright!

You were left speechless when he straightened, a smirk thrown out your way as Sam spoke up, “This is the guy I told y’all about! Lt. Joaquin Torres.” He slapped a hand on Joaquin’s back, smiling with pride.

“And this is y/n y/l/n, fresh transfer from MIT. She’s our tech genius, and a walking journal on film recommendations.”

Laughter followed as your eyes couldn’t help but stay trained on Joaquin. Thinking back on the time when Sam told the team about the new Falcon joining them after a while, you somehow manage to speak up at that moment, “Welcome to the circus.” You take a deliberately long sip of your float, never breaking eye contact.

He gulped nervously, eyes wide, clearly startled by you flirting. 

“You haven’t had a drink yet Lieutenant? Let’s get you something.” you smile involuntarily.

He stands back for you to lead the way, “Sure. And it’s just Joaquin, please.” he laughs just after, his honey laced voice paired with your tad bit hazy mind doing wonders to your imagination.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/--/-

They keep watchful eyes on us So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet You won't believe half the things I see inside my head Wait 'til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet

“Wait a minute…” you smiled, “you cannot possibly think Love Actually is better than The Holiday?”

“It’s the perfect rom com!” Joaquin laughs, “it covered basically every rom com trope under the sun.”

“But, listen to me, but…” you say, your slightly tipsy self leaning on the wall behind you, as Joaquin stood in front of you, holding his own glass of whiskey, “Quantity never matters in front of quality. All characters in The Holiday are well written with meaningful backgrounds and great character redemption arcs. And it’s got Jude Law.”

Joaquin raises his hands, “Jude Law.”

“Jude Law.” you laugh, at how he was mocking a defeated pose.

“When Sam told me I can’t lose a movie debate with you, I couldn’t believe him.”

You try to curtsey, “thank you.”

“Wanna get out of here?” Joaquin blurted out abruptly.

It took you a while to gain your consciousness, and a laugh left your lips at what he just said. You saw his eyes traveling to your lips, and how his breath fastened as you took a deliberately long sip of your drink.

You smirked, “sure.”

—/—/—

You find yourself sneaking through the backdoor and upstairs towards the living quarters of the Avengers compound as you drag Joaquin by his coat as you slip into an unassigned room. The furniture was still uncovered, but there was a couch in a corner right next to the opened windows where moonlight pooled in.

Perfect.

The alcohol surging through your system gives you newfound courage, and seconds later Joaquin was being thrown on the couch by you. His pupils dilated, his gaze trained on you and his scent lingering in the air, you straddled him without hesitation.

 “Are you good?” His breathy voice went straight to your core, and without a word you crashed your lips on his.

He’s gonna be the death of me.

The taste of expensive champagne hit your mouth, Joaquin’s tongue slipping in your mouth sliding in with fervor. Your gasp is swallowed by his lips, his hands travelling south towards the zipper of your dress.

Your hands fumble with his coat, taking it off of him and raising his shirt just enough to slide your hands underneath. Warm, toned muscles met your hands, and the way he sucked your lips made you forget everything. You couldn’t breathe, but couldn’t move away from him either, entirely lost in taking him in.

Joaquin jerked back all of a sudden, making you whine.

“Wait, wait…” He breathed out, his breath cooling your skin.

“Just kiss me.” You exhaled, grabbing his tie to pull him in, but he leaned back.

Joaquin gently held your wrists, “y/n… hey, look at me,” he breathlessly said, “look at me for a second.”

You do, at his messy hair, puffy lips, and blown out pupils.

He holds out his hand, “how many fingers am I holding up.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, eyes drifting to his fingers in front of your face. You get the tunnel vision every time you’ve had a bit too much whiskey, you see double.

Concentrating hard on your answer, you slur out, “four?”

Joaquin closes his eyes, looking up and huffing out a breath, “you’re very drunk.” You feel his hands on your waist, and he carefully sits you down on the couch next to him.

You whine at the loss of his touch as he gets up from the couch. He returns a minute later with a bottle of water, sitting next to you and making you drink the entire thing.

“Can we go back to the part where you kiss me until I forget my name?” you breathe out.

Joaquin laughs out, settling down next to you and leaning back on the couch. You straighten your dress, and sit with your shoulders touching. You steal a glance his way.

His coat was gone, his tie hung loose on his neck, his white button shirt straining on his arms…

Someone works out…

The faint moonlight hitting from behind him made the outline of the veins on his neck visible.

I want to lick it...

You scrunch your eyes as soon as you hear that inside your head.

Wow, he’s right, I am drunk.

“As much as I’d like to do that,” he looks your way, “I can’t. You’re very drunk.”

A smile itches on your face, and you ask, “so what should we do then?”

“Talk?” he suggests, turning to you, resting his head on the backrest and looking you right in your eyes. “I know nothing about you. You know nothing about me. Let’s talk.”

You laugh out loud, “okay,” the smile refusing to leave your face, “what do you want to know?”

“Anything.” he says with a warm smile on his face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and a blinding headache, on a mattress too soft for your liking, the sunlight hitting your face with full force.

Grunting, you sit up, rubbing your forehead.

Something slips off your body, and you look down and find someone has covered you with a black suit coat while you slept.

The man with the warm eyes and gentle touch.

You laugh, rubbing your head at the absurdity of the situation.

You wear it over your dress and walk out of the room, after last night’s party everybody would be sleeping in. You can sneak out unnoticed.

You swiftly call an uber, and shove your hands inside the pockets of Joaquin’s coat.

The feel of rough paper makes you stop in your tracks, you take it out of the pocket to see a torn piece of labeling paper inside, a note greeting you.

9546-555-6783 See you soon, I guess? (Take care of my coat till then? It’s my favorite suit.) -         Joaquin

-/-/-/-/-/-

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I’ve been watchin' you for ages And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

Joaquin joined the team a week later. He chose to stay on the compound, and soon blended in with the new avengers. Peter and Kate grew especially fond of him. When Shang-Chi joined the ranks, he, too, was welcomed into your close-knit circle.

You spared during training, made breakfast together, had constant debates on cinema and stories. He loved the classics, and you had a nick for science fiction. You should have cancelled out each other, but your differences only made your bond stronger. The differences weren't a barrier; they were a bridge. You shared tech skills learned during your time at  MIT, revealing the details of coding and circuits. In return, he shared practical knowledge from his air force background; survival techniques and tactical strategies.

Your apartment, though smaller than the compound's common areas, became the gathering spot for your group. Lazy weekends of your teams were spent at your place, you'd watch old movies, host game nights, and then collapse on any available surface.

Peter had a habit of entering your apartment through your window, and Kate never got used to it. Takeout was a foreign concept with your friends. Instead, Shang-Chi and Joaquin would take over the kitchen, making a mouth watering combination of asian food and mexican food, that could best possibly win them masterchef if they ever could.

These people, this band of young individuals navigating life… they became your chosen family. They were your support system, your confidantes, your partners in crime.

No one seemed to notice the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet conversations that stretched late into the night. Or perhaps they did notice, and simply didn't care. 

-/-/-/-/-/-

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Clouds grumbled above, as angry raindrops splattered on your apartment window. You were sitting on your couch with three devices settled in front of you: a laptop and two tablets running algorithms and analytics for locating kingpin. Kate had gathered intel that he still had someone in the states giving him updates and keeping him safe. But where?

That was a question you were determined to get answers to. Which is why you had made it your mission to get to the base of this.

Amidst the thunderous rain outside, you hear a knock on the door, and from the corner of your eye you witness Joaquin enter, carrying takeout containers.

“You’ll have to use the fork for the noodles, I just ran out of chopsticks!” you shout, without even looking at his direction.

“Y/n” Joaquin huffed out in frustration, “please tell me you didn’t ‘sense’ Thai food from me.”

“I did.” you laugh, looking at the bewildered Joaquin standing in your kitchen. He had jeans and a sleeveless gym shirt on. Involuntarily your eyes went to his toned arms, and you did a quick diversion of your thoughts to the TV.

”I come bearing sustenance. Chow Mein and Thai green curry, extra spicy, just how you like it.” he says, followed by the scrunching of the takeout container.

You sit up straighter with a smile itching on your lips, your favorite food just when you were low on inspiration. “You're a lifesaver, these logistics are killing me.”

Joaquin sets the containers on the coffee table. He sits next to you, close enough that your thighs brush. He huffs out, “Tell me about it. Sam's been drilling us on contingency plans all day. I swear, he's got a backup plan for the backup plan.”

You laugh, “That's Sam for you. Always prepared.”

You open the containers, the aroma of the curry filling the room, and digging into the food in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“You got something on your…” Joaquin speaks, and you look at him with a particularly big bite in your mouth. 

“Hmm?” you mutter.”

He reaches out and gently wipes a bit of sauce from the corner of your mouth. The gesture is intimate, lingering a moment too long. If you don’t count your sparring training, this was the closest you had been since ‘that’ night at the charity gala. Your hands grab his arm on their own.

It feels… good. Too good. It's been so long since anyone touched you like this. Desired you. Like you mattered. Like you weren't just… a disappointment. You… you want this. You want him. 

But what if you mess it up? What if you push him away, like you did with… 

Your heart almost leapt out of your chest as he gently cupped your face in his hands, your gaze locked on his warm brown eyes. He leaned in towards your lips, a silent question in his expression. You paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face, and gently pulled back.

He too leaned back, respecting your space. The tension remained, but now it carried a hint of gentle inquiry.

Looking down, you fidgeted with your hands, "It's not that I don't… I just… we need to be sure about this." You huffed out in frustration, trying to articulate your tangled thoughts.

"I want you," he stated, his voice low and sincere. You looked up at him instantly, his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "I want you in ways you can't imagine, y/n. And I will walk out of here right now if you don't want this. We can forget this ever happened."

Thunder roared in the skies above, and lightning illuminated his face through the window as he paused, his expression open and honest. "But," he gulped, his eyes searching yours, "if you do want this… then…"

He left the rest unsaid, giving you the space to make your own choice.

Your internal conflict finally tipped towards action.

Oh, fuck this… 

His words were lost as soon as you crashed your lips on his.

—/—/—

You stumbled into your room, Joaquin’s lips didn’t leave yours as he threw the two of you on the bed. Pulling you under him, his hands were everywhere. Your mind could only catch up with a few, as it was too busy taking in all of him.

Joaquin made you feel like your entire body was on fire. Your hands flew straight to his hair, a moan leaving his lips. You did quick work on his clothes, leaving him in his boxers as he got busy removing yours.

No words were exchanged as he moved low, kissing and sucking your skin in all the places that made your vision hazy. You could only whine and gasp as he grabbed your legs and rested them on his shoulders.

And then he stopped.

You look down to see a mischievous grin plastered on his face, his pupils blown wide.

“Joaquin…” you breathe out, “stop teasing me.”

His eyes darken as he let out a low murmur against your skin and without warning dived in, a loud moan leaving your lips as pleasure rushed through your body.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

And I could see you being my addiction You can see me as a secret mission

“So… what is this?” you ask, lying next to him covered in sweat, panting. You rolled away next to him, completely exhausted from your acts that lasted three blissful hours.

“You’re asking this now?” he mutters, eyes fixed at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure fraternizing between teammates is not allowed here.” He groans.

You close your eyes, trying to think about if that rule existed among the Avengers. As far as you knew nobody was involved with each other here. “We can be friends.” You suggest.

“What!” you feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to him leaning over you.

 “No, just… think about it.” You shift to lean on the headboard, gathering the sheets to cover your chest, “you’re new to the team.”

Joaquin takes a pillow to cover himself and sits cross-legged in front of you, “okay.”

You stop for a second, staring at his abs.

Y/n stop it! Focus!

“We can’t just go ahead and announce that we’re sleeping together, or dating. They will never let us live this down. Especially Bucky. And Kate. Maybe Sam…” You state, matter of factly.

“Wait, wait! Stop!” he gestures, eyebrows scrunched, “You want to date me?”

“No! I don’t like you like that!” almost scream out, “do you wanna date me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I don’t see a problem with… this!” You throw out your hands.

“What is this exactly?” Joaquin pointed between you two.

You groan, “ugh, you’re as thick as it gets!” You adjust the sheets around your body to free your hands, “what did you think of me the first time you saw me?”

“At the gala? Huh…” he thinks, “That you have the prettiest smile.” he shocks you with the last part, but then he adds on, “also you looked hot in that pink dress.”

There we go.

“Well, I thought you had a great voice, and your eyes were really pretty.” You truthfully admit, “also you looked like trouble… and I have a thing for bad boys.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Whatever.”

“You swear you don’t want anything other than sex with me?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yeah. You?”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

Joaquin gets up from his place, picking up his boxers and putting them on, “So just to be clear… we’re friends.”

“Yep!” you catch your sweatshirt that he throws your way.

He puts on his shirt next, “With benefits.”

“Absolutely.” You say, debating whether you should get up the bed or not, exhaustion rolling over your senses.

“And you promise you won’t fall in love with me.” He points to you.

“Oh please, if anything you’ll be falling first.” You say through a yawn.

Joaquin laughs putting on his pants, “well, I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want something?”

“Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m tired.” You grimace.

He smiles at you, “Go ahead.”

You fall back on the bed, as you hear his footsteps going away… the sweet embrace of sleep following you next.

—/—/—

Few weeks later

Your place or mine?

Your screen lit up with the message from Joaquin. You smirked

Yours? In an hour? You press send, and let out a laugh as you see the blue tick instantly.

Done.

Before you could ask him the reason he got so worked up, you hear F.R.I.D.A.Y’s automated voice - Scan. Complete.

A low hum filled the operations center as you meticulously analyzed the fragmented data streams scanned by F.R.I.D.A.Y. Dozens of photographs presented infront of you but your eyes instantly locked in on one in particular. Your focus narrowed on a grainy image emerging from the static. 

Broad shoulders, crisply pressed suit, gold rings on the fingers… could it be…

“Y/n!” Kate and Peter shout in unison as you slapped a stack of files on the kitchen table. Sam, Bucky, Shang Chi, Joaquin, all who were just about to eat, whipped their heads towards the commotion.

“I think I've found him,” you announced, pointing to the figure.

Sam and Bucky shared a look, and rushed towards you as you opened up a holographic display on your tab. Joaquin and you share a look, he was amused, a small smile on his face letting you know he was excited for what you found out, you smirked and quickly look away trying to focus on the scene infront of you.

“All this time I was searching for him here… but…” Cross-referencing facial recognition, thermal readings, and satellite data, you enlarged a section of the display, revealing a stark desert landscape. “The terrain, the temperature… it all points to one place... Mexico.”

A collective sense of surprise filled the room. 

'Mexico?' Peter questioned, 'What's he doing down there?' 

You zoomed in on a satellite image, enhanced thermal readings revealing a network of hidden structures. 'I don’t know, but he's planning something,' you stated, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice. 'Something big.' The implications hung heavy in the air. 

“This changes everything.” You nodded, your gaze fixed on the display. 'We need to move fast.”

To Be Continued...

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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[raven-dor]

kiss from a rose

in which steve rogers gets the girl… and then loses her?

PAIRING: steve rogers x avenger!reader, steve rogers x fem!reader

WARNINGS: jealousy, slight angst, typical marvel violence, witty banter (thank you Natasha), yearning!!

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

🎶 : kiss from a rose - seal

AN: yay steve!! successfully brought back my Marvel obsession!! reader has nature powers, plus telekinesis but it's green!! SUPERHERO NAME IS TERRA

It was late when he realized it. They’d just gotten back from a two-week-long recon mission when it clicked. Her hair glistened in the dim lights of his apartment, his apron wrapped around her waist as she made them dinner. 

He’d offered to help, she’d said she’d wanted to. “After this mission, you deserve a break, Cap.” 

He glared playfully, fighting the blush forming on his already rosy cheeks. “Please don’t call me that.” 

“Why not?” She smirked. “That is your title.” 

“But not my name.” He muttered, staring at her intently. “I like it when you call me my name.” 

It was her turn to blush. “Fine, fine.” He held her hand, rubbing the back gently with his thumb. Of course, she gave in. “Steve. Now, go set the table.” 

He’d never set a table faster in his life. 

And then, when he turned around and watched as her face focused on their dinner, tongue peeked out from behind her lips, his heart fluttered. He stalked over, holding the crook of her arm gently as he spun her around. Her eyes widened, pupils growing for every second she stared at him. “Steve? What are you-” 

He dove down, kissing her like it was his last moment on Earth. Like he needed her. In a way, he did. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around his neck. He smiled, pulling away ever so slightly. “You’re beautiful.” 

Her cheeks felt like he’d lit them on fire. “Steve. What’s gotten into you?” 

He shrugged, nudging her nose with his. “Thought I should make a move.” 

She laughed, and his heart fluttered. “You have good instincts.”

“Are you sure?” He asked for the millionth time. “Peg’s been dying to meet you.” 

He was too nice, she told herself. She knew Peggy could not care less about seeing her. “Steve, I’ll be just fine waiting for you here.” 

“I-” He nodded. “I’ll be back.” 

“Go on.” She smiled, kissing his cheek. “You’re already late.” 

He hadn’t been gone long when she received two texts from Nicholas Fury. She frowned reading it, their boss had always had the most inconvenient timing. Walking down the hall, she gazed into Peggy’s room, smiling at the pair. Steve sat diligently at her bedside, every week, like clockwork.

“I couldn’t leave my best girl-” 

Jealousy ripped through her like a disease. 

Peggy and Steve had had their time, but she was married. She wasn’t even someone Steve was remotely interested in anymore. 

But when Y/N watched the man she’d grown to love staring at her like that, she couldn’t help but listen to the tiny devil on her shoulder. It’s not like they were dating, they’d only kissed for the first time last night. She shouldn’t care, she told herself over and over.

She shouldn’t be jealous. 

A tear fell down her cheek, and she gasped, turning away from the door to wipe it away.

“Something wrong?” His voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Shaking her head, she turned back around, smiling lightly. “Not really. Fury texted. Said we still needed to turn in some paperwork for the mission.”

“Ah.” He looked disappointed. She didn’t blame him. 

“I can do it, no need to leave her or-” 

“No! No, I’d be happy to help.” He smiled, reaching for her hand. “I would love to.” 

God, he was charming. It was hard to be jealous when he looked at her like that. “Maybe it would be best…” Her voice grew quieter with each word. “It would probably be quicker if I did it by myself.” 

“Oh.” He sounded weak. “If that’s what you want.” 

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Handing him the keys, her heart skipped when his fingers brushed hers.

His head tilted. “Are you walking?” She nodded once more, and he looked utterly confused. She would be too, considering she had been the one to drive here. It was a company car, but still. “Let me drive.” 

“It’s fine, really-” 

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” He spoke like he meant it. She knew he meant it. “Please.” 

How could she say no?

She’d been home for approximately four hours when she realized how stupid she’d been. Using the spare key Steve had given her months ago for ‘emergencies’ she slipped into his apartment, smiling to herself when his cologne fell out of the shadows. Throwing her coat on the counter, she walked over to the light switch, about to flip it on when a voice broke through the quiet. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

She pulled her gun out of its holster, aiming at the corner. Fury’s face peeked out from the dark, and her shoulders loosened, lowering her aim. “What the hell, Nick?” 

“What the hell to you too.” His voice was gruff. “What is my little green thumb doing in Captain America’s apartment?” 

“None of your-” 

“Business?” He raised an eyebrow. 

Her cheeks flushed. “I could ask you the same question, sir.” 

“My wife kicked me out.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “What wife-” Fury raised his phone, the text reading ‘Shield compromised.’ 

“Shit.” She hissed. “Did she-” 

“Y/N?”

“Steve.” She turned around, glad for the dark. It hid her hot cheeks perfectly. “I-” 

“Did I do something earlier?” He threw his coat next to hers, walking down the hall with a horribly beautiful look in his eye. “If-” She tilted her head toward the corner, and his eyes darted to Fury, glaring. “I don’t remember giving you a key.” 

“Do you really think I’d need one?” The old man looked at Y/N, smirking. “It’s a select group, I see.” 

Y/N glared, avoiding Steve’s gaze. “Fury-” 

“My wife kicked me out.” 

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. He was using the same line he’d used seconds before. Steve stepped in front of her, turning on the light. “I didn’t know you were married.” 

“A lot of things you don’t know about me.” 

“I know Nick. That’s a problem.” 

“Cap.” She hissed. “Be kind.” 

“Cap?” Steve hissed back. “What did I-” 

Fury held his phone up, the words he’d shown her still typed in large bolded letters. Steve’s eyes widened, and he gazed around his apartment. His arm stuck out behind him, pushing her behind him. Her heart fluttered. “Stay.” 

“I’m sorry to have to do this.” 

“Who else-” Steve sounded tight. “Who else knows about your wife?” 

“Just my friends.” His phone read ‘us three.’ 

Steve scoffed. “Is that what we are?” 

“That’s up to you.” Fury stood up, barely out of his seat when an attack of bullets shot through Steve’s wall, hitting him square in the chest. 

They dropped to the floor, pulling Fury behind the kitchen counter. “Shit,” Y/N whispered, checking for his pulse. “Shit, Cap.” 

He glared. “We’ll talk later.” 

“Why would-” He raised an eyebrow, and her cheeks flushed. “Just be safe, yeah?” 

“I will.” He nodded, smiling lopsidedly. “Are we-” 

Fury stuck a shaking hand out at Steve, a grey flash drive with Shield’s logo in his palm. “Trust no one.” 

The operating room was cluttered, with doctors and equipment at every corner. Her hands gripped the windowsill tightly, staring at her boss getting cut open on the table. “C’mon Fury. Please don’t die.” 

Steve’s hand laid over hers, a comforting presence. He said nothing, just staring at her with his mouth slightly agape. She dared to look over, frowning. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Y/N-”

“How is he?” Nat’s voice was panicked. Y/N pulled out of his hold, hugging her friend quickly. 

“Not good, Nat.” 

All they could do was watch helplessly as Fury died. And when Steve held her in his arms, flash drive digging into her back, she knew their talk would have to wait. Fury’s body was presented to them minutes after he’d been declared dead. 

She’d never seen Natasha so shaken. 

“I need to take him.” 

Nat stayed firm by Fury’s side, and Steve stepped forward. “Natasha.” 

The redhead took one last look at her boss before stalking down the hall. Leaving Maria by herself, they chased after her. She whipped around, anger flooding her normally playful gaze. “Why was Fury in your apartment?” 

“I don’t know.” God, Steve was a horrible liar.

“Cap.” Y/N turned around, looking at Rumlow with disdain. “They want you back at Shield Headquarters.” 

“Yeah, give me a second.” 

“They want you now.” His voice held something else, a secret that Y/N couldn’t decipher. 

“Okay.” 

“You’re a terrible liar you know,” Nat shot back, walking away. 

“I should-” Y/N whispered. “I should go.” 

“No.” Steve shook his head, holding her hand tightly. “Fury trusted you with this too.” His eyes looked wild. Not with passion or love, but with confusion, and worry. “I need you with me.” 

She could never say no to him. One thing stuck in the back of her mind, one thing Steve had told her without saying anything at all. Trust no one meant something bigger than a single person. It meant a system, an organization they’d both worked for, that they both protected. They were going to take down Shield. 

Shields headquarters, much like its field of work, was dark. Gloomy, grey, and dark. Absolutely no green or foliage to be seen for miles. Like always, she complained to Steve as they walked. “I understand why we have to wear our suits, but I’ve never felt more uncomfortable in my life.” 

Steve laughed, a smile cracking from beneath his normally hard exterior. “As soon as we-” His smile faded. “As soon as you get home, you can change. I promise.” 

“Steve-”  

Pierce and Steve’s supposed neighbor were huddled outside his office door, speaking in hushed tones. Y/N made an effort to stand taller, their talking coming to a halt as they approached. ‘The neighbor’ smiled, greeting them both as she left. “Captain, Terra.” 

Steve didn’t even bother to look in her direction. “Neighbor.” 

“Captain.” Pierce stuck out his hand. “My name is Alexander Pierce.” 

Y/n fought the urge to roll her eyes. The older man had always given her an unsettled feeling in her stomach. They had met multiple times before, and she saw no reason to shake his hand for the millionth time. 

“Mr. Pierce. It’s an honor.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow. What an honor indeed.

“Nick ignored my direct order and carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil, saving the lives of a dozen political officers, including my daughter.” 

“So you gave him a promotion.” Steve seemed skeptical. Good. 

“I’ve never had any cause to regret it. Captain…” His voice held a sort of curiosity. In Y/N’s opinion, it was closer to nosiness. “Why was Nick in your apartment last night?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did you know it was bugged?”

“I did,” Steve confirmed, leaning forward. “Because Nick told me.” 

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on Steve’s arm. “Fury told him months ago. And, between you and me Mr. Pierce, Nick’s been having family issues.” 

“Ah.” Pierce’s hard gaze hadn’t moved from Steve's. “Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?” She hadn’t known that. “I want you to see something.” 

“Is that live?” Steve turned around. 

Her eyes widened at the video. “Where is that?” 

“We picked him up last night in a not-so-safe house in Algiers.” 

“Are you saying he’s a suspect? Assassination isn’t Batroc’s line.” 

“He may be a deranged man, but he wouldn’t put a hit out on Fury,” Y/N whispered. “No way.” 

“It’s more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to attack the Lemurian Star. He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last one going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” 

“Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmherst Drive.” Her heart dropped. She and Fury were by no means close, but after working with him for longer than she cared to admit, she came to know his past, just like he came to know hers. She knew things, like his first pet's name, or his family’s home address. Shit. “When I first met Nick, his mother lived in 1437.” 

“Are you saying Fury hired the pirates?” 

“The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick’s death.”

“Mr. Pierce, with all due respect, Fury would never do that. You know-” Her eyes welled. “You knew him, I knew him. He may have played dirty occasionally, but he was no traitor.” 

“Why do you think we’re talking?” The older man replied. “I took a seat on this council because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew despite all the diplomacy and the rhetoric, that to build a better world, sometimes you have to tear the old one down. You two were the last people to see Nick alive. I don’t think that’s an accident. And I don’t think you do either.” Y/N held her breath, remaining cool under his suspicious stare. “So I’m going to ask you again. Why was he there?” 

“He told me not to trust anyone.” 

“I wonder,” Pierce murmured. “If that included him.” 

“I’m sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse me.” He grabbed his shield, and both of them walked toward the door. 

“Captain.” The pair turned around, and she ignored the annoyance that grew in her stomach. Pierce tended to only respect the men in the room. “Somebody murdered my friend, and I’m going to find out why. Anyone gets in my way, they’re going to regret it. Anyone.” 

“Is that a threat?” Y/N stepped in front of Steve, her hands glowing ever so slightly. 

Pierce simply shook his head, a strange sort of smile on his face. “Simply a promise.” 

“There’s always been something off about him.” She muttered as they waited for the elevator. “That is exactly the person we shouldn’t trust. The type of person that Fury warned us about.” Steve just stared out the window, arms crossed. She frowned. “What’s on your mind?” 

The elevator door opened, and he walked in, Y/N trailing after him. “Operations Control.” 

“Cap-” 

“Not here.” His eyes looked gloomy, like the beginning of a storm. 

“Keep all S.T.R.I.K.E. personnel on sight.” Rumlow walked in, accompanied by three agents Y/N had never seen. “Cap. Terra.” 

“Rumlow.” 

“Evidence response found some fibers on the roof they want us to see. You want me to get the tac team ready?” 

“No. Let’s wait and see what it is first.” 

“Right.” Rumlow looked jittery. Odd, she thought to herself, he was normally quite calm. Four more agents entered on the next floor. With no warning, Steve grabbed her hand, pulling her in front of him. She could feel his breath on her neck. Rumlow’s voice was hushed. “I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. It’s messed up, what happened to him.” 

“Thank you,” Steve muttered. 

Three more agents entered on the floor after that, and she squeezed Steve’s hand. A fight was imminent. Steve squeezed back before letting go. Summoning the small bit of energy in her hands, she stood tall, her face hardening. 

“Before we get started-” Steve’s voice was confident, firm. “Does anyone want to get out?” 

It was all a blur. She threw three agents against the door, knocking them out. Steve broke out of their hold, smacking the one who’d held him in a chokehold against the window. Rumlow pulled out his taser rod, slamming Steve in the back. 

“Hey!” Y/N yelled, building up an energy blast in her hand and breaking the rod out of his hand. “That’s not very nice, Rumlow.” 

Rumlow scoffed, pulling his two backups out of his belt. “Whoa, big guy.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “I just want you to know, Cap, this isn’t personal!” He jumped forward jabbing Steve in the side before he was thrown into the ceiling.

“It kinda feels personal.” Steve grabbed his shield, turning around and looking her over for injuries. “Are you alright?” His voice was barely a whisper, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

She hummed, leaning into his touch. “I’m fine.” She wiped his brow with her sleeve, the smallest bruise forming. “Are you?” 

“Fine.” He lied. He canceled the emergency stop, the doors opening to reveal twenty Shield officers aiming straight at them. He stilled, placing a protective arm in front of her. 

“Drop the shield and put your hands in the air.” The lead yelled out. 

Without any warning, Steve spun around, cutting the elevator lines with one fell swoop. After the elevator stopped, he tried to door again, even more agents waiting for them than before. 

“Steve-” She hissed, watching as he eyed the window. “Don’t-” 

“There’s no other way out.” He quipped. 

Her hands glowed as she shook them in the air. “Hello?” 

“I have to say-” She whispered, burying her face in her hood. “Hiding the top secret hard drive in a public vending machine is not your smartest idea.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Did you have a better one?” 

“Keeping it on my person crossed my mind.” She teased, nudging his side. “It’s not like all of the secrets Fury has been hiding from us are on it.” 

“Stop worrying. It’s-” Empty. All the gum had been bought, along with, Y/N thought to herself, a free flash drive. Nat’s face reflected off the glass, popping a bubble from the gum she had bought. In any other situation, she would have laughed. 

Steve grabbed her arms, pushing her into the room behind them. “Where is it?” 

“Safe.” 

Y/N watched with mild fascination. 

“Do better.” 

“Where did you get it?” Nat questioned. 

“Why would I tell you?” 

“Fury gave it to you. Why?” 

“What’s on it?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Stop lying.” He shook the super spy.

Y/N’s smirk broke. “Steve-” 

“I only act like I know everything, Rogers.” 

“I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn’t you?” 

“Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in so do you.”

“I’m not going to ask you again.” Steve was practically seething. Y/N reached out, placing a hand on his arm before Nat spoke once more. 

“I know who killed Fury. The Winter Soldier. Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out. But he was there, and I was covering my engineer. So he shot him, straight through me. Soviet slug, no rifling. Bye-bye, bikinis.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now.”

“Going after him is a dead end. I know, I’ve tried.” She held up the hard drive. “He’s a ghost story.” 

“Then let’s find out what the ghost wants.” 

“How much time do we have?” The three of them huddled around the computer as Nat tried to access the hard drive. 

“About nine minutes from…” She plugged the drive in. “Now. Fury was right about that ship. Somebody is trying to hide something. This drive is protected by some sort of AI, it keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands.” 

“Can you override it?” 

“The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me.” 

Y/N laughed. “I thought that wasn’t possible.” 

“Ha-ha. I’m running a tracer, so if we can’t read the file, the least we can do is find out where it came from.” 

“Can I help you guys with anything?” 

Nat laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, no. Just fulfilling my maid of honor duties. Helping my brother and his fiance find some honeymoon destinations.” 

“Right,” Steve spoke through his gritted teeth, slinging an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “We’re getting married.” 

She felt like she was on fire. Steve looked down at her with heart eyes, and she melted, relaxing in his hold.

“Congratulations.” The employee smiled. “Where are you guys thinking about going?” 

“Jersey.” She smiled back. 

“Huh.” The employee stared at Steve, too long for it to be nothing. “I-” Shit, he knew. “I have the exact same glasses.” 

Oh. “You two are practically twins.” Y/N teased. 

“Yeah, I wish.” The other man laughed. “Specimen. If you guys need anything, I’ve been Aaron.” 

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled, looking up at Steve as she mouthed the words ‘perfect specimen.’ His cheeks grew red. 

“You know it?” Nat gestured to the screen, breaking the moment in two. 

Steve looked solemn, nodding. “I used to.” 

Nat hissed as they moved out of the Apple store. “I’ll meet you in the parking garage, don’t get caught.” 

“What?” Y/N widened her eyes. “Why-” 

Steve grabbed her hand, pulling her onto the escalator. “It’s alright, we’ll get out of here soon.” He tilted his head, taking his turn to tease her. “Scared to be alone with me?” 

“Steve.” She gasped, smacking his chest. “Don’t fish for compliments.” 

“Oh?” He smirked. “So you had a compliment?” 

She turned around, eyes widening when she saw Rumlow step onto the adjacent escalator. “Kiss me.” 

He looked pale. “What?” 

“Rumlow-” She sighed. “Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortabl-” Steve’s lips smashed against hers, his arms snaking around her waist. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she received a sudden burst of deja vu. Pulling away, she turned around, walking the rest of the way down. “I wasn’t finished.” 

Steve shrugged. “I got the point.” 

“So-” Nat leaned forward, looking between the two. “What happened?” 

Y/N tensed, looking back at her friend. “What do you mean?” 

“You two haven’t looked at each other since you got in the car.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “What happened?” 

Steve cracked the smallest smile, and Natasha gasped, smacking Y/N’s arm. “You kissed him!” 

“What?” Y/N yelled. “Why was it me that kissed him?” 

“Oh.” Nat’s smirked widened. “So it happened then?” 

Steve laughed. “Is this something you talk about?” 

“I-” She felt like she was going to burst. This was much too much attention on her. “It was for the mission, Nat.” 

Steve frowned. “I wouldn’t say so.” 

Nat was fully grinning. “He wouldn’t say so.” 

“Natasha.” Y/N hissed. “Leave it be.” 

“Fine, fine.” She held her hands up in defeat. “Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?” 

“Nazi Germany. And it’s not stealing, it’s borrowing.” 

“All right.” Nat nodded. “I have another question for you. Of which you do not have to answer. But I feel like if you don’t answer, that sort of answers-” 

Steve sighed. “What?” 

“Was that your first kiss since 1945?” 

Y/N choked on air, and Steve placed a hand on her back, rubbing it gently. “Breath.” 

She glared, flipping him and Natasha off. Nat smirked. “I was just wondering how much practice you’ve had.” 

“You don’t need practice.” 

“Everyone needs practice-” 

“It was not my first kiss since 1945. I’m ninety-five.” He cut her off. “I’m not dead.”

“Nobody special though?” Nat egged on. If there were no repercussions, Y/N would blast her out of the car then and there. 

Steve quickly looked over at Y/N before looking back at the road. “There’s someone.”  

“Do tell.” 

“Nah.” He shook his head, smiling to himself. “I don’t think I will.”

taglist:

[americas-ass-writing]

Not the game they play

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 4.1k

Summary: An arranged marriage flips your life upside down. What you thought you knew about your family doesn't seem to be true at all. How will Steve and you navigate your life together?

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, a swear word here and there, insulting of Sarah Rogers, yes that needed to be a warning, difficult family relationship, if I missed anything please let me know

A/N: This is the first part of a series. I had this idea for over two years with some scenes already written out or well thought through. Thank you all for encouraging me to finally do something with it. But don't come for me, you wanted this!

I promised to tag the lovely @ronearoundblindly 🩷

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Chapter One - Cannot stop the rain

The constant bustle of people and their conversations were a white noise like no other. One you can't concentrate on too long, especially when you have to hold conversation with whoever thought it was his turn to smooze a king.

Steve hates galas. He hates the pretentiousness that came with them and the people who attended but most of all he hates that he had no choice but to go. A king missing one of these was only excused when a serious matter arose. And those don't come by easily when you need them. He yearned for the times when he didn't need to attend these things, back when his mom still was the reigning queen and shielded him from this world. But with his mom gone he had to step up.

Gone where the days he travelled the world, studied art and made new friends. So easily replaced with duty and grief... and a stupid crown on his head. He was lucky enough he could hire his friends as staff, lucky enough his oldest friend was his right hand man and never left him alone for too long. James Bucky Barnes, his childhood defender, his best friend, his right hand and occasionally, much to Steve's dismay, his wingman. If only that would have worked out already. He seems to be casually watching people dance but in reality he watches the couples spend quality time together at a stuck up event. If he had a partner maybe this wouldn't be so bad? Maybe people wouldn't constantly come up to talk to him because he'd be dancing himself, someone in his arms, looking at him lovingly...

"Senator Lee is coming up next" a smooth voice mumbles over his shoulder, Sam Wilson. A friend he found in college, a politics major and his chief of staff. Steves eyes find the older gentleman approaching him. He's talked with him before, quite often actually, and he was always so kind and encouraging.

The small talk with senator Lee went by faster than Steve anticipated. Before the next person could swoop in to talk to him he excused himself to the restroom. Bucky, his honorary security detail for the evening since he refused to take his actual one, made to follow him. "It's just the bathroom Buck. I'll be fine and I'll come straight back here." he says lowly, his eyes rolling at the antics. He didn't need this much security before he became a king. Bucky hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering to Sam who looks a bit unsure himself. "I mean... It's just the bathroom... No danger there. Nat wouldn't go inside with him either right?" Steve lets out a sigh at Sam's statement. Natasha, the head of security, ruled with an iron fist. She had all of them so scared they wouldn't dare to disobey her orders... except maybe her husband Clint but he got free passes for life.

"Right... Just come right back here?" Bucky looks at him and with a sigh and a nod Steve agrees. Before they can say anything else and before whatever lady just seems to approach them can start to talk, Steve hurries to the restroom. He locks himself in a cabin just for a few moments alone. But even those aren't truly alone.

The door to the restroom opens up not too long after him and of course that person takes ages to do their business. With a silent grumble Steve finishes up and leaves the cabin to wash his hands. Just then the door to another cabin opens and an older gentleman with thinning grey hair, in a three piece suit steps out. His eyes meet Steve's in the mirror as he walks up to the sink area himself. They look cold, although he has a smile plastered on his face. Fake niceties like Steve has grown used to.

"King Rogers." He acknowledges and Steve simply gives a nod. He isn't even safe in the fucking bathroom!

"Black isn't really your colour." Steve's brows furrow. What was that supposed to mean? "You know many families waited for the old crone to finally step down and let you be the king. Women shouldn't hold that much power, especially when there's no king at her side to keep her in check. Who would have thought it would take her to die for you to finally step up." The man seems calm and collected as if he didn't just insult Steve's mother.

"What the fuck did you say about my mom? Old crone?!" His blood was boiling and he was this close to hitting the old man if it weren't for his manners. His mom raised him better but she wasn't here to keep him in check was she?

"Oh calm down Steven. No need to get all flustered and angry. Hold your tongue before you say something you'll regret. We'll be one happy family soon after all." The man smirked and calmly dried his hands. He teaches over and turns off Steve's tab, the blonde frozen from anger. What did he just say? He must be demented. "What?" Is all that Steve can bring out. Confused and angry and still so so close to punch that guy.

"Oh you don't know. Can't say I'm surprised, your mother shielded you a lot. Now I have to do all the explaining. That's why women should never be in charge.” he rolls his eyes. “Are you familiar with the Hastings family?" The man hands Steve one of the towels and casually leans against the sink. Hastings? Steve has heard that name before... Wasn't that the royal family that fell from grace three generations ago? His eyes flit to the man.

"Sounds familiar." Is all he can grid out. What is this man on about? Is he just here to gossip?

"Clever boy." The smirk on the old man's face is uncanny. As if he can read Steve all too well. "You know exactly who they are but instead of going off to gossip like all the other royals out there you keep your answer neutral. What a good king you make." Steve's confusion grows.

"What does the Hastings family have to do with us becoming one?" Steve bites out. "Ah straight to business. Just how I like it. You see the Hastings family and the Rogers family go way back. Many, many generations in fact. King Joseph Rogers the first and King George Hastings even made a little pact, that yes, still stands today." His eyes search Steve's face and his grin looks so satisfied. "That the families will unite as soon as there is a male and female heir born into the families. Now ever since then both families only bore strong sons with an occasional daughter that was out of the age range for marriage. That is until roughly 30 years ago. When you and my granddaughter were born just two years apart." Steve's brow lifts. The old man was a Hastings. Wanting to fulfill a deal that was made over a hundred years ago... Bullshit.

"Whatever deal you're referring to will not stand with today's laws. So you can stop badmouthing my mom and trying to get me to marry your desperate granddaughter now." Steve spits. The man just grins. "Oh, it will Steven. Here let your lawyers check this and then get back to me about when my granddaughter can move in with you. " He laughs and hands Steve an envelope before he walks out of the restroom and back into the gala.

Steve's eyes fall on the envelope, it's burning in his hands but he needs to get this checked. He can't marry someone because of an old deal. He can't marry someone with a grandfather daring to insult his mom that's not even been dead for a month. Steve's eyes start to burn with tears. His mom shielded him from so much while she also did her best to prepare him for this life... He wishes she was here... That he wouldn't need to mourn her so publicly while also keeping his tears in to not seem weak. He wishes he could wear the dark blue suits she got for him because according to her that's the colour he looks the most handsome in. He wishes she could brush his hair out of his face one more time. Just once more with that sweet smile that was reserved for him only.

He takes a shakey breath and swallows the lump in his throat. A brief look in the mirror, a deep breath, straightening his tie. He can't show weakness. Not here, not ever. 'Safe the tears for your bedroom, Rogers.' the voice in his head commands. He wipes away the stray tear that got caught in his lashes, pockets the envelope and with another deep breath makes his way back to his friends.

They're chatting, most likely teasing each other. As soon as Bucky sees him both heads turn to Steve with a concerned gaze swiping up and down. They seem to come to the conclusion that he's okay and relax. "We need to leave." he says as soon as he reaches them. His tone more urgent than he wanted to. "Why you got diarrhea? Took you pretty long in there... I told ya to lay it easy on the hors d'oeuvres." Bucky teases with a grin that immediately falls as soon as he sees Steves eyes. Sam can't even get his joke in before Bucky declares that they're leaving. He leads Steve to the host of the gala for a quick goodbye and then out to the car they came in.

Within 10 minutes they're on the road. For the first time with only the three of them in the car, Steve pulls up the divider for privacy. Shielded from Sam and Bucky, he allows himself to spill a few tears for his mother before he can make it to the safety of his bedroom. He knows that will be away for another few hours, especially with the envelope that's burning a hole into his pocket.

Ever since you were young your family hasn't cared much for you. The only thing that was important to them was that you did exactly what they wanted... in every aspect of your life. You got the education they wanted, you went to college for what they wanted and you hid your interests to make them like you. At the beginning of your twenties you finally broke out of that circle. You moved far away with your friend and only occasionally visited for important matters, much to their dismay. Just like you were now.

The train ride never isn't boring, even with a good book and music. The most thrilling plot or the most beautiful lyrics couldn't distract you from the stranger sitting next to you. Somehow you always had the luck of them eating something disgusting, talking loudly on the phone, constantly bumping into you or being a stranger to the concept of headphones.

Your eyes wander over to your friend and her husband for the millionth time. They were sitting together, cuddling, yet somehow each minding their own business. Her husband looking out of the window, headphones in, music on and daydreaming. Your friend reading the newest book from her favourite author. How you wish you had someone to share a seat with... to share a life with. You wouldn't have a stranger next to you. You'd have a partner. You could cuddle and mind your own business at the same time... or play a game? Would you get upset at them winning Uno? Or would you love them too much to get frustrated?

You let out a sigh. You've been single for so long... a partner was still written in the stars and wouldn't come by anytime soon. So you'd have to deal with strangers next to you on the train, the couch for yourself and your family constantly badgering you when you'd move back and find a partner. It's not like you planned being almost thirty and still single. As a child you dreamed about being married with children at this age. Maybe having a little house and a dog. You wanted to be surrounded by friends, leave your family out of it as much as you could. Just enjoy life with your partner. But here you were, still alone. Maybe wallowing in self pity at a life that could have been would be a good way to pass time till you were back at your family's place.

You pull your suitcase after you. The walk from the train station wasn't too long and you know better than to ask anyone to pick you up. You don't want to inconvenience them or owe them. Last time you asked your mother and she made you wash all the dishes from the family party by hand after you played waitress during the entirety of it. You'd rather choose walking 30 minutes to the house than do that again.

As you come closer you spot your grandpa's car in the driveway. He must be here to oversee the preparations for his birthday party tomorrow. You briefly look down at yourself, jeans and t-shirt. It looks good enough but you already know you'd be criticised left and right. Never enough for them.

With a deep breath you ring the doorbell and wait. It's not too long before the door opens to reveal your mother. She takes in your appearance and sneers before she greets you. She steps to the side to let you in. "You visit your family that you never see and you show up dressed like some slob. You could wear something nice every now and then." She grumbles before she goes to the living room to announce that you're here. Well if you knew your grandpa would be here a day early you would have tried to wear something nicer. You leave your suitcase next to the door and follow her into the living room. You greet everyone and listen to your siblings' judgments until your grandpa stops them.

"Enough. Let's not ruin this joyful day for our family." He announces before he gets up and stands next to you. Joyful day? What happened? Did he finally win the lottery? You look at him confused.

"You all need to learn to not criticise her so much anymore. After all it would be a bad image to her fiancé and the press." Everyone nods along as if what he said did make any sense. Even your father who usually only shows interest for the drink in front of him, nods along. Has he got dementia since the last time you visited? "What?" Is all you can bring out at which your mother scoffs.

"Well dear... It took you a long time to find a partner, which in hindsight I'm very grateful about. You know our family has a long history and its history and glory shall be restored soon enough.” Your grandpa declares like it's some victory. “Many hundred years ago our ancestors made a deal with the royal family of Brooken. The first heirs of opposite sex shall marry and unite our families. It just never worked out age wise until you came along. Born just two years after the now reigning King Steven Rogers." He explains and you're absolutely sure they all lost their damn minds. No royal family would make a deal with commoners, especially back then.

"Well I recently met the young man and reminded him of this deal. He's more than eager to fulfill it and marry you. He'll collect you and bring you to Brooken tomorrow." He squeezes your arm, a smile plastered on his face. You can't do anything but stare at him and then burst out in laughter. They were messing with you. Or playing along with your grandpa's dementia... But no one else was laughing. They all looked rather serious... And the house looked so clean... Was this not a joke?

"This... This has to be a joke...?" You say, looking at him with desperation. "Why would it be? You'll restore the Hasting family's glory and finally be of use to us.” your heart breaks a little more. Were you truly this worthless? Did nothing you did for them before count? You look up at them, desperate to find any sign that this wasn't true. That they were playing a prank. The stone faces of your parents and siblings look back at you. This... This wasn't a joke. They'd marry you off to some stranger. To a king? To gain what? What about your life? What about your place? Your job? You can't just leave that behind for some king who's probably a huge asshole... Your long fought for freedom taken by your family and that guy. Back under control, every move watched and criticised.

The rest of the day has been cruel. Your family was between joy at your engagement to a king and anger at you trying to refuse. In-between all the explaining, that really didn't give you any new information or any that would make sense of the situation, you texted your friend which promised to call you later.

“It's not all that bad… at least he's handsome!” Your friend tries to reason. “Plus you'd be a queen! No more shitty job that doesn't pay you enough. You'd live in a castle and wear pretty dresses.” She offers and is met with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah that's great but at what cost? My freedom. I really love my one bedroom apartment. You know why? Because it's mine. I can do what I want. And in his castle? I probably won't even be allowed to hang a picture on the wall. There'll be people watching my every move and reporting back to him. I'll be just as miserable as I used to be at my parents place.” The white of the ceiling starts to become blurry with the tears that are about to spill. “What if I can never see you again? What if he won't let me have any friends?” Your voice breaks at the thought.

“He doesn't look like he'd be such an asshole. He looks nice and the articles write nice things about him too.” She reasons. “Yeah and who has big influence on the press? Him. Of course they wouldn't write anything bad about him.” You complain. “They have written not so nice things about him. Especially with him grieving his mother…” that you do feel sorry for. They seemed to have a good relationship, losing a loving parent isn't easy. “Give him a chance. You never know maybe he's a prince charming.” Her voice sounds encouraging.

“What does a king even want with a commoner? Why would a king make a deal like that hundreds of years ago? I don't get it…” you question. “Who knows maybe your family had blackmail material on the royals.” At that you snort a bit. “Maybe… he seems eager to get married. My family is eager for this. Why am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?” Your hands pick on the scratchy blanket your mother put on the guest bed for you. “Because you're the one who loses a lot for this. Your family gains royalty… at least they'll be royal adjacent? I mean they do have the stick up their asses like royals already. And he gains a wife? Dating must be hard when you're a king.” She muses. “His last relationship was six years ago. His ex left him for another prince and got married like a year after.” You hum at the information she found. His whole life could be found on the internet which makes you wonder what he even knows about you? Your family didn't even know you so he couldn't even get something accurate from them.

“Listen, I gotta go… but give it a chance? And if he's an asshole and you need out, you text me and we'll come to break you out ok?” you sigh at your friends offer but ultimately agree. You'll try, it's not like you can leave the house and flee without your family noticing and coming for you anyways. You place your phone on the nightstand and cuddle up in bed. Your eyes fall on the monstrosity of dress your mother picked out for you. Maybe if you truly wore that pink pile of whatever the seamstress had left over, he'd run for the hills and you'd still be free.

"Sorry Steve... I can check a few more things but this is airtight... They can force you to marry that girl..." his lawyer says. Steve sighs and looks up from his desk to look at the brunette who meets him with a warm empathetic smile. Maria Hill, top of her class, badass in their softball team and brilliant lawyer. Steve recommended her to his mom when the old lawyer retired. Maria showed her wits and was hired within two hours of her interview.

"There's no way a deal from over a hundred years ago still holds up! You're telling me there was not a single occasion where this desk could have already been fulfilled? Aren't the Hastings fucking hornballs with so many family members? They're not even royal anymore! How does this hold up?" Bucky rants, clearly trying to protect his friend. Maria meets his eyes and lifts an eyebrow.

"Well if you want to go through the entire family trees and history to try and prove that be my guest. Matter of fact is that King Joseph and King George thought of everything in their agreement. Even the downfall of royalty... Or in this case the downfall of one royal family. This seems to be their way back. Making Steve marry the granddaughter so at least she is tuly royal." Maria says dryly. "I will check it over once more. I think we all should get as much rest as this night still offers but... don't get your hopes up Steve." She adds as she gets up and takes the contract that was in the envelope before. "What if we kill her. Can't marry someone that's dead" Bucky suggests and immediately gets a slap on the back of his head from Sam.

"As your lawyer I would advice against the murder of the future spouse of your best friend. You'd be one of the first suspects and I'm sorry to say this Barnes but your pokerface isn't as great as you'd like to think." Maria states before she looks at Steve. He's exhausted, his face in his hands, his hair ruffled. "Go to bed Steve." She says softly, worried about her friend.

Steve let's out a sigh and gets up. "Dismissed. Good night." Is all he can say before he drags himself out of his office and up the stairs. His mind is a flurry of thoughts that just won't shut up no matter how much he tries. He lets out a sigh as soon as he reaches the third floor. To the left is his room, to the right the room of his mother. His legs move on their own, carrying him to the portrait of her that's covered in a black veil. In the last month he often stood in front of it. He wished it good night before he'd get in bed. Just like he planned to do today.

"Night mom..." He whispers, the tears in his eyes returning once more. "This is all so hard without you… you would know what to do with this stupid deal… I wish you were here." his voice breaks at that. He gulps and tries to hold back his tears. He isn't in the safety of his own bedroom yet. But he isn't sure he's gonna make it till there. His eyes wander to his door, so far away, and back to the portrait. He gulps and moves towards her door. Her room is safe too. Even if it brings sad memories.

He softly closes the door behind him, his eyes falling onto her bed. He'd often sleep with her as a child. When he had nightmares, when he was upset about his father dying, when he was sick. Just one more time he tells himself and takes off his shoes. He can sleep in the sweatpants and shirt he put on earlier, he doesn't need a fancy pyjama set. Hesitantly he slips under the yellow covers. His nose immediately fills with her scent. Her favourite laundry detergent mixed with her perfume and he can't hold back the tears any longer. The dam breaks and he sobs into her pillow. After many minutes of crying he falls asleep enveloped by her one more time.

[the-winter-spider]

Yours, Always | Part Eight

Steve x reader, Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Angst, fluff, little bit of this little bit of that

A/N: Only like 2 more parts of Bucky in the hospital, I just want him home so we can get to the good stuff 😅🤪

Masterpost

---

The door clicks shut, the sound hanging in the silence like an aftershock.

Bucky stares at it for a long moment, like maybe if he looks hard enough, it’ll open again. Like maybe you’ll come back, but you don’t.

His chest feels hollow, his hand still tingling from where yours had been just minutes ago. He swallows hard, then drags his free hand over his face, his fingers trembling against his skin.

Winnie watches him, her gentle, knowing eyes never leaving his face.

She saw it the moment you walked out of the room the way something inside her son cracked. Bucky lets out a slow, shaky breath and in a voice that’s so small, so quiet, he asks “Who’s Steve?”

Winnie’s brows pull together slightly, her lips parting. “What did she tell you?” she asks softly.

“Not much,” Bucky murmurs, his voice tired, strained. He leans back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling as his jaw clenches, unclenches.

On an exhale, barely above a whisper “Not much about anything.” His throat bobs, his brows knitting together as his lip quivers, just barely. “Her life isn’t anything like I hoped for,” he admits, the words stinging his tongue like acid.

Winnie’s expression softens, something deep and heartbroken settling in her gaze. “Oh, James,” she whispers, shaking her head. “What did you expect?”

Bucky says nothing. Because he truly doesn't know what he expected but it didn't feel like this.

His jaw tightens, his eyes still glued to the ceiling like if he blinks, if he moves, the pain will swallow him whole.

Winnie lets out a breath, sitting down beside his bed, her hand covering his forearm, grounding him.

“That girl loves you so much,” she says softly. “Her whole world stopped when you were gone.”

Bucky flinches, because he knows he heard it in your voice. Felt it in the way you held him like he might disappear again. Saw it in the way you couldn’t even look at him when you talked about your life.

“She said there was a funeral for me...” he murmurs, his voice barely holding together. Winnie closes her eyes for a moment, as if she can still see it the way you stood at that funeral, hands curled into fists, face vacant, lost, broken beyond words.

“She never really believed it,” Winnie admits. “Not completely. Even when we had to bury an empty casket. Even when they handed me that folded flag. A part of her always thought maybe just maybe you’d find your way home.”

Bucky presses the heel of his hand against his eyes, inhaling sharply. “Who’s Steve?” he asks again, his voice raw this time.

Winnie sighs, her heart aching for him, for you, for all the years that were stolen. “Her husband.”

The air leaves Bucky’s lungs all at once. For a second, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink, then, he exhales through his nose, sharply, his hand dragging down his face.

“Right.” His voice is flat, unreadable, but Winnie can see it the devastation in his eyes, the way his fingers twitch like he’s trying not to clench his fists.

“He’s a good man,” she continues softly. “He loves her and Y/N, she loves him and Lily too. Maybe not the way she loved…loves you but its there.”

Bucky’s brows pull together slightly. “Lily?”

Winnie hesitates for half a second, gently. “Her daughter.”

Bucky closes his eyes.

And for the first time since he’s been back, since he’s been rescued, since he’s been breathing, since he’s been staring at the ceiling in this goddamn hospital bed, he wishes he hadn’t made it home at all.

Bucky’s entire body goes still. Not just still, paralyzed. His fingers twitch, then curl into the thin hospital blanket, his grip tight like it’s the only thing tethering him to this moment.

“She has a daughter?” The words barely make it out. His voice is hoarse, strangled, like they were ripped from somewhere deep in his chest.

Winnie watches him carefully, her lips pressing together before she gives the softest nod. “Not in the way you think, sweetheart.”

Bucky’s throat bobs, his breath uneven.

Winnie’s voice is quiet, steady, filled with something he can’t quite name. “She’s her daughter legally, on paper and in her heart. But she didn’t birth her, that’s all I’m saying. The rest… she’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

Bucky just stares at her, the words should mean something but they don’t sink in.

Not yet, all he can hear…all he can feel is the ache in his chest, the one expanding, consuming, suffocating.

“A daughter,” he repeats, like if he says it enough times, maybe it’ll start making sense.

But it doesn’t.

Because how the fuck is he supposed to make sense of any of this?

Of years stolen, of an empty casket, of a love that never got to be anything more, of a life that kept going without him?

His heart is hammering, his breath is short and vision blurs.

He presses his fingers against his eyes, hard, inhaling sharply, forcing the lump in his throat to stay down, forcing his grief into the cracks of his ribs where no one can see it.

“James.” Winnie’s voice is gentle, but firm.

Like she already knows exactly what’s going through his head, like she knows that in the seconds since she spoke those words, he’s already convinced himself that he should have never come back at all.

“Look at me, baby.”

He doesn’t want to. He knows if he does, he’ll break. Slowly, reluctantly, his eyes meet hers.

They’re the same eyes that used to look at him across the dinner table when he was sixteen.

The same eyes that welcomed you into their family like you were always meant to be there because you were.

The same eyes that had to bury an empty casket and pretend it was enough.

“What did you expect?” Winnie says softly. Her voice isn’t harsh, isn’t cruel but it still feels like a knife between his ribs.

Because he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know what he expected.

That you’d be waiting? That time would have frozen in his absence, just like he did? That you’d still be his, in some way, any way, even after all this time?

“I…” His voice cracks.

He looks away, shaking his head, running a hand down his face again like it might wake him up from this nightmare.

Winnie sighs, squeezing his arm. “That girl loves you so much, James,” she says. “Her whole world stopped when you were gone.”

Bucky flinches.

“And when she had to start it again, she did the best she could.”

Bucky swallows, staring at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. A broken sound leaves Bucky’s throat.

A breath, a sob, a fucking plea for something he doesn’t even know how to name. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “She deserved better.”

“She deserved you.”

His breath stutters and his jaw clenches.

“James,” Winnie murmurs, rubbing slow circles on his arm. “She made a life for herself. She did what she had to do to keep moving forward but don’t think for a second that it didn’t cost her everything. She lost you, baby. She lost herself right along with you.”

He felt it the second he saw you. The way you looked at him like you’d seen a ghost, the way your hands shook when you held him.

The way your voice cracked when you spoke his name, the way you couldn’t even look him in the eye when you talked about your life, because somewhere deep down, you knew it was never supposed to be like this. None of it was.

Bucky swallows then clears his throat. He tells himself not to ask but he does anyway. “Do you think she’s happy?”

Winnie watches him for a long time.

So long that his stomach twists, turns, knots itself into something unrecognizable. She sighs. “I think she tries to be.”

Bucky nods once. Slowly and quieter than ever. “Does she love him?”

Winnie pauses.

She doesn’t answer right away, like she’s choosing her words carefully. “She loves him the best she can,” she finally says. “And he loves her and she loves that little girl with everything in her.”

Bucky stares at the ceiling, silent and suffocating.

“But,” Winnie continues gently, her voice so soft he almost doesn’t hear it “Not the way she loved you.”

His chest caves in. It doesn’t feel like victory, it doesn’t feel like hope. It feels like a slow, agonizing death, like mourning something that’s still standing right in front of you, like grieving a love that was never given the chance to grow.

“Get some rest, baby,” Winnie whispers, brushing his hair back like she did when he was a kid. “Goodnight my sweet boy.”

He nods absently. “Goodnight Ma.”

---

The night air was cool, wrapping around you like a soft whisper. The sky stretched endlessly above, a dark canvas splattered with stars, the moon casting a soft glow over the riverbank.

You and Bucky lay side by side on an old plaid blanket, the fabric rough against your skin, the scent of pine and damp earth grounding you.

This had been your thing for as long as you could remember. Escaping the noise, the weight of the world, and just… being.

Bucky sighed beside you, his hands resting behind his head, eyes locked on the constellations above.

“Do you ever think about love?” His voice was quiet, but it cut through the stillness.

You turned your head slightly, studying his profile. His features were relaxed, but there was something behind his voice, something careful, hesitant.

“Yeah,” you admitted, turning your gaze back to the stars. “I think about it.”

“What do you think about it?”

You breathed in deeply, the scent of cedar and the lingering smoke from your small fire filling your lungs.

“I don’t know,” you said, voice softer now. “I think it’s rare, especially true love…I think when it’s real, it’s the most powerful thing in the world but I also think it’s messy and complicated.”

Bucky hummed beside you. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence. “Have you ever been in love?”

You froze.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of the blanket, your heart hammering against your ribs. You kept your eyes fixed on the sky, but suddenly, the stars didn’t seem so captivating anymore because how do you tell your best friend, your only friend that you’re pretty sure you’re in love with him and you have been since you were eight? You don’t.

You could feel Bucky watching you. “Y/N?”

You wet your lips, swallowing hard. “I…”

And blessedly, cruelly he kept talking. “I am.”

Your breath hitched.

Your stomach twisted, a dull ache spreading through your chest. You forced yourself to breathe, to keep your face neutral, to not let it show.

“Oh?” You managed, your voice painfully even.

He let out a breath, something like a laugh, but it was softer, like he wasn’t sure if it was funny or not. “Yeah. I have been for a while, I thought it would go away if i ignored it but it's not, it's just....stronger."

Your throat tightened as you swallowed the lump caught in your throat.

You thought of Stacy. She was pretty, she was sweet, kind, popular pretty much everything you weren’t and would never be.

She had been hanging off his arm for weeks now, giggling at his jokes, showing up at his locker, touching his shoulder whenever she spoke to him.

You had told yourself it didn’t bother you. That it didn’t matter and you didn’t care.

You inhaled sharply, forcing a small smile. “She’s lucky, then.”

Bucky turned his head to look at you, his brows pulling together slightly. “Huh?”

“Whoever she is.” You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment.

Until quietly, carefully he did. “Do you think anybody could ever love me?”

Your chest ached.

You turned your head, meeting his gaze in the dark. He looked so vulnerable, so open, like he didn’t even realize it.

“Bucky,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “Any girl would be stupid not to love you.”

Something flickered in his expression. Something unreadable.

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He looked at you for a long time, too long and he turned back to the stars. “What about unrequited love?”

Your stomach dropped.

“What about it?” you whispered.

“Do you think it’s worse than never loving at all?”

You licked your lips, feeling like you were unraveling.

“Maybe,” you said carefully. “I think it depends.”

“On what?”

You hesitated, your fingers digging into the blanket. “On whether or not the person you love ever really sees you.”

Bucky let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I think you’re right.”

The air between you was too heavy now, too thick, filled with words neither of you had the courage to say.

Bucky sat up abruptly, stretching his arms above his head. “C’mon,” he said, his voice suddenly lighter, different. “It’s getting late.”

Just like that, the conversation was over, it was buried.

You let out a breath, blinking up at the sky one last time. The stars were still there but they didn’t look the same anymore.

---

You don’t remember walking through the hospital.

You don’t remember saying goodbye to Winnie, don’t remember the quiet hum of nurses and the faint beeping of machines as you moved through the halls.

It’s all a blur, a haze, a dream that refuses to make sense.

All you know is that one moment, you were in his hospital room, holding onto him like you’d lose him all over again, and the next you’re outside. The cool night air wraps around you, but you barely feel it. Your legs move forward, autopilot taking over, and then you see blonde hair.

Steve, he’s there, he’s always been there, leaning against the rental car, arms crossed, waiting. His eyes land on you immediately, and whatever tension he had melts away when he sees you.

He pushes off the car, his expression softening. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you walk right up to him, straight into his chest. His arms are instantly around you, wrapping you up, pulling you flush against him.

Your breath comes ragged, uneven, as you grip onto the front of his jacket like he’s the only thing keeping you upright and barely above a whisper. “It’s him.”

Steve’s hold tightens.

“It’s really him, Steve. This is real.”

His lips press against your hair, lingering there, warm, reassuring. “It’s real, baby.” His voice is gentle, steady, the kind of calm you desperately need.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing against your cheek, and for the first time since you walked out of Bucky’s room, you exhale.

Steve presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then moves to open the car door for you. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

You nod numbly, stepping into the car, your fingers curling into your lap as Steve shuts the door behind you.

A moment later, he’s in the driver’s seat, keys in the ignition, but he doesn’t start the car right away. He just watches you. You stare straight ahead, completely still, completely silent.

The hospital entrance glows behind the windshield, the weight of it all sinking in, pressing into your ribs, your throat, your lungs.

“Sweetheart.” Steve’s voice pulls you back, but barely.

You blink, finally turning your head to look at him, and the moment your eyes meet his, the dam breaks.

Tears well up, spilling over, and a sob tears through you before you can stop it.

Steve doesn’t hesitate. He reaches for you, his palm cradling your cheek, his thumb swiping away the tears just as fast as they fall.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing against yours.

“I don’t…”Your breath stumbles. “I don’t know how to feel, I feel, its so much Steve, I...”

Steve exhales slowly, his free hand finding yours, gripping it tight. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight, okay?” he says, his voice calm, certain. “You’re allowed to just… feel it. Process it.”

You nod shakily.

“I was so scared,” you whisper.

“I know.”

“I thought…” Your voice breaks. “I thought if I ever saw him again, it wouldn’t be him. That it would be some version of him I wouldn’t recognize.”

Steve nods.

“But it’s him.” You suck in a sharp breath. “It’s Bucky. It’s really him.”

Steve doesn’t speak for a second, softer than ever. “I know.”

He squeezes your hand gently. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You hesitate, because you don’t know what to say. You don’t know where to start, where to end but you do know one thing. “I don’t want to go back to the hotel yet.”

Steve studies you for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

He pulls away, his hand leaving yours just long enough to put the car in drive and as he pulls out of the parking lot, the city lights stretching out ahead of you, you close your eyes.

The city lights flicker past the windows in soft blurs of gold and white as Steve drives, the hum of the engine filling the silence between you.

Your mind is somewhere else.

Somewhere back in that hospital room, somewhere between the past and the present, trying to find a place where they can coexist without breaking you.

Steve’s voice pulls you back. “Lily says she misses you.”

You blink, turning to him. “You talked to her today?”

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I did, she kept asking to see you.”

Something in you softens. “Do you think she’s still awake?”

Steve glances at the clock on the dashboard before huffing a quiet laugh. “Of course, it’s Saturday. She’s probably still watching movies with my mom.”

You hesitate for half a second before reaching for your phone, your fingers trembling just slightly as you hit FaceTime.

It rings once.

Twice.

“Mommy!”

Lily’s beaming face fills the screen, her strawberry blonde curls a wild mess, her little pink pajamas slightly wrinkled. The sight of her is an instant balm to the chaos in your chest.

“Hey, baby.” You smile, your grip on the phone tightening like somehow it’ll bring her closer.

“I miss you,” she pouts, eyes wide, sweet, so full of love.

“I miss you too.”

“Are you coming home tomorrow?”

Your breath catches, because home, your true home is wherever he is, wherever Bucky is and now you have her too and suddenly you don’t even know what that means anymore. “Soon, angel,” you say softly. “I’ll be home soon.”

She tilts her head, studying you the way only a child can. Then, her brows pull together. “Why do you look sad? Why are you crying?”

You exhale slowly, forcing a small smile. “They’re happy tears, Lil. I’m happy.”

She frowns, unconvinced. “Good, you always look sad.”

Your heart clenches.

A sharp, aching twist in your chest. You swallow hard, nodding quickly. “You make me happy.”

She watches you for another second before nodding, her expression softening into something so small, so knowing. “I’m happy that you’re finally happy.”

You feel it like a punch to the gut.

Because when had she noticed? When had she learned to read the sadness on your face like it was written in ink?

Your throat tightens, but you keep your smile steady. “I love you, Lily.”

“I love you more!” she grins.

“Not possible.”

She giggles, covering her face with her hands before peeking out between her fingers. “Good night, Mommy. Good night, Daddy!”

“Good night, baby girl,” Steve says, smiling.

The call ends.

The car is quiet again, but it’s a different kind of quiet now.

You stare down at your phone, your mind circling back to her words, over and over again.

“You always look sad.”

Steve must see the shift in your face because he reaches across the console, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Softer than ever. “Things are gonna change, aren’t they?”

“I'm not sure how much more change I can take.” Your voice, quiet, broken.

---

The air was still warm from the afternoon sun, golden light spilling in through the open kitchen window as the sound of Lily’s laughter echoed from the backyard. She and Sarah were out in the garden, something about finding the “biggest, most beautiful flower ever” to bring inside.

You were standing by the counter, drying dishes while Steve put them away, the two of you working in perfect sync, like you had been doing this forever, in a way, you had.

Steve leaned back against the counter, watching you, his eyes filled with something soft, something warm. “So, I was thinking…”

“That's never good.” You smiled, glancing over at him, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “About?”

“Ha ha, funny.” He breathed out, then he hesitated for a second, running his fingers over the edge of the counter, almost nervous. “About Lily.”

Your stomach did that little flip it always did when he talked about his daughter. “What about her?”

He inhaled deeply, steady, certain. “I want you to adopt her.”

You froze, the dish towel slipped from your hands. “You….what?”

Steve pushed off the counter, stepping closer, close enough that you could feel his warmth, the steady presence that had held you together for so long. “I want you to be her mom, officially. If…if you want to.”

Your chest tightened, your heart slamming against your ribs. “Steve…” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I mean, you already are,” he continued, rushing now, like he wanted to say everything before you could stop him. “She calls you Mom. You tuck her in at night. You make her lunches and hold her when she cries and tell her stories about mermaids and astronauts and whatever else she’s obsessed with that week.”

His voice is quieter now. “You love her, she loves you..” he swallowed “And if anything happened to me, you’re the only one I’d trust to take care of her.”

Your eyes burned. You did. You loved her so much it terrified you sometimes. “I just…” You wet your lips, blinking fast. “I just don’t know if I have the right…”

Steve’s hands found your arms, gentle but firm, grounding you. “You have every right, Y/N. If you want it.”

You exhaled sharply. “But Natasha…”

“What about her?” His voice was soft, sure.

“She’s her mother, she always will be.”

Steve nodded. “She will and you know what? She would’ve loved you.” His lips curled slightly. “She would’ve been happy knowing Lily had someone like you in her life. That she had you to love her.”

Your breath caught, your throat tightening as you blinked up at him. “You really think that?”

He smiled, warm and certain. “I know it.”

You stared at him, at the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, at the quiet confidence in his voice, like there was no doubt in his mind.

Suddenly, there wasn’t any in yours either. You let out a shaky breath, nodding once, then again, stronger this time. “Okay.”

Steve’s brows lifted slightly, his breath catching. “Yeah?”

A small laugh slipped from you, wet and disbelieving. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.”

Before you could say anything else, Steve had you in his arms.

His grip was tight, almost desperate, like he wanted to hold on forever. You felt his breath against your hair, his heartbeat steady against yours.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you too.”

When Lily ran inside a moment later, dirt-streaked and breathless, holding up a flower that was much too big for her little hands, Steve knelt beside her, his eyes shining.

“Hey, baby girl. How do you feel about making it official?”

“You asked her daddy?! She said yes?!” She squealed and threw her arms around you, burying her face in your neck. You knew you’d never be able to live without her being your daughter ever again.

---

The morning air is cool, crisp, the sky a dull gray, mirroring the weight in your chest. Steve pulls the rental car to a stop outside the hospital entrance, shifting into park but not moving to unbuckle just yet.

You exhale, smoothing your hands over your jeans, the fabric cool beneath your palms. Neither of you rush to speak because this is it.

Not forever, not yet, at least but for now. You decided your stay till Bucky heads home, Steve’s heading today.

You finally turn to him, your lips parting slightly, but he’s already looking at you and you see something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize.

You don’t know what it is but he does. He’s been coming to grips with it for the last few days, and now, sitting here with you, he feels it down to his bones.

He knows how this ends, how you two end because if it were Natasha, if she had somehow come back to him after all these years, after all the mourning, after all the grief he knows exactly what he would do and he knows exactly what you’re going to do. He doesn’t know when it will happen, or if it’ll even be you to do it. He hasn’t decided yet, but for right now he’s going to keep you as long as you’ll let him.

“I don’t have a flight booked yet,” you murmur, forcing a small smile. “But Bucky said he should be getting released soon, so I should be home in a couple of days.”

Steve nods, you don’t notice the flicker of something behind his gaze. The way he’s memorizing this moment, committing it to memory because he knows, this is the last time you’ll say it like that, the last time you’ll consider him…home.

“Take as long as you need,” he says instead, his voice gentle, steady, warm. “Lily and I will be waiting when you’re ready to come home.”

You nod, reaching for his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you,” you whisper.

You wanna say more, say thank you for everything, for understanding, for never holding you back, for never demanding more than what you could give.

He swallows, then lifts his hand to your face, brushing his thumb along your cheek and he looks at you like he’s already mourning you. Like he’s saying goodbye without saying it, like he’s letting you go, even before you’ve made the decision to leave.

But you don’t see it because you still think that maybe, somehow, you can hold both pieces of your life together.

That somehow, this doesn’t have to be a choice, but Steve knows better.

So, he just smiles. “I love you.” He says it like It’s not a question, not a plea, just a fact…one that will always be true, even after this.

You smile back “I love you too.”

Steve nods once, then pulls away, his hand leaving your cheek, his warmth fading as he reaches for the gear shift.

You step out of the car, the door closing softly behind you and as he pulls away, you watch him go, lingering in front of the hospital doors longer than you should.

You step through the hospital doors, the cool air inside a stark contrast to the warmth of the morning sun outside.

You move down the hallway, rounding the corner just as Winnie is walking out of Bucky’s room.

She spots you immediately, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Just in time,” she says, giving your cheek a quick kiss as she passes. “I was just heading to grab some breakfast. I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

You nod, offering a small, tight smile. “See you later, Winnie.”

She squeezes your arm before continuing down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

You take a breath, then another and it still somehow doesn’t feel like enough but you knock lightly on the door before pushing it open.

Bucky is sitting by the window, his good arm resting on the windowsill, staring outside. “Ma, I told you, I’m not hungry.”

You smirk, leaning against the doorway. “Jeez, Buck, it’s only been ten years. Didn’t think I aged that much.”

His body stiffens and faster than you can even register he spins around, eyes wide, disbelieving. “You’re back.”

He’s on you again, his sling is gone now, his left arm still wrapped at the shoulder, but it doesn’t stop him from wrapping both arms around you and you feel it.

His hands, both of them pressing against your back, pulling you flush against him.

You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the back of his shirt. “Of course I’m back,” you murmured into his shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Bucky doesn’t answer right away. His arms just tighten, holding onto you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I don’t know,” he finally whispers.

You don’t say anything to that, you just let yourself sink into the feeling of him, a feeling that will never be enough, not after all this time apart.

After a moment, the two of you sit down by the window, you pulling another chair beside his. The view outside is nothing special, just the distant skyline, the tops of trees swaying in the breeze, the occasional car moving down the street.

But Bucky stares at it like it’s everything. “One of the things that kept me going,” he says after a moment, voice quiet, distant, “was looking up at the sky.”

You turn to him, watching the way the morning light touches his face.

“No matter where I was, no matter how far away it felt, I kept thinking…” he pauses, swallowing, ”that you were under the same sky. That we weren’t really that far apart after all.”

You squeeze your hands together in your lap, swallowing back the lump in your throat.

You don’t say anything, you don’t think you can.

Bucky turns to you. “Tell me about Steve.”

You freeze, your stomach tightens.

“You mentioned him a couple of times yesterday,” Bucky continues, watching you closely. “And I heard Ma say he was waiting outside for you.”

You nod slowly, your fingers fidgeting with your left hand, the one that should have your ring on it. “He’s my husband.”

Bucky goes still, he knows of course he knows, his Mom already told him but it feels different hearing you say it. It was something he thought maybe, just maybe if he played his cards right you would call him some day but he doesn’t say anything.

You keep going. “He’s… amazing, really. He anchored me, I don’t know where I’d be if he hadn’t…” You shake your head, trying to find the right words.

“Where did you meet?” Bucky asks, his voice calm, steady, unreadable.

“A grief support group.” His brows furrow slightly.

You exhale, looking down at your lap. “He was the first person who really tried with me after I lost you. He didn’t have anybody for the first little bit, either. It was just… us.”

Bucky nods slowly.

He’s trying to picture it. Trying to imagine you, his girl, showing up to a grief support group because of him. Because he left, because he felt like he had something to prove because he felt he would have it all figured out if he just did a couple of tours. Because you thought he was dead, he should have been.

“Steve lost his fiancée,” you continue. “Natasha, she died giving birth to their daughter, Lily.”

Bucky’s head tilts slightly. “Lily?”

You smile softly. “She brought out a kind of joy in me that I hadn’t felt since you.”

Bucky’s chest tightens.

“After a couple of years together, we eloped.”

Bucky stares at you. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You nod, your smile turning a little sad, distant. “Nothing crazy. Nothing big.”

“But you always wanted some big wedding,” he says, almost like he’s confused.

You meet his eyes then and you see the realization settle over him before you even say it. “That was before I lost you.”

Bucky’s mouth opens, then closes and nothing comes out.

Because what the hell is he supposed to say to that?

What is there to say?

You clear your throat, breaking the silence. “After we got married, I legally adopted Lily.”

His brows pull together again.

“She knows about Natasha,” you assure him. “We keep pictures of her all over the house. She knows who her mom is.”

Bucky nods slowly. “You have a family,” he says after a moment.

You nod. “I have a family.”

Bucky inhales deeply, running his hands over his thighs before exhaling slowly.

“Are you happy?”

And without hesitation, it slips out before you have the chance to even think it through. “No.”

Bucky flinches, like the answer actually hurts him. Hewas expecting you to say yes, to tell him that you were fine, that you had moved on, that you had found happiness again.

But you didn’t and he doesn’t know what to do with that. “No?” he echoes, his voice almost uncertain, like maybe he heard you wrong.

You just stare at him. “No.” You take a deep shaky breath looking back at the buildings surrounding the hospital watching the car drive by, you can feel Bucky staring at you waiting “I tried to be, I really did. I have moments where I feel joy but they always get dimmed. I just, my life isn’t what I dreamed it would be, I think that's why.” You pause and in a low voice “I thought about it y'know.”

“Thought about what?” Bucky's voice is soft, gravely, his eyes never left you.

You finally turned to him making eye contact “Ending it all, I almost did it once but I just thought what if you were still out there.”

“Y/N…”

“I know it's heavy and you have enough going on I just, I’m so happy you're here.”

He reached out taking your hand in his squeezing “If you ever, ever think like that again please, I beg you please talk to me.”

You nod, deciding to change the subject your eyes go to his shoulder, the one wrapped up. “What happened Buck? Your Mom says you wont talk.”

Bucky inhales sharply, his fingers twitching where they grip yours, he doesn’t say anything not right away he just stares down at your intertwined hands like maybe if he focuses hard enough, the past ten years will disappear.

Maybe you’ll be kids again, sitting in the back of his truck, dreaming about the future that never came.

He sighs. “Because there’s nothing to say.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s bullshit.”

He smiles slightly at that, the you from before never letting him off the hook that easily.

He watches your eyes drift to his shoulder, wrapped in thick gauze, the skin underneath bruised, raw, healing. “What happened?”

His gaze flickers away for a second and he exhales hard through his nose, his free hand dragging over his face, quietly, reluctantly. “They almost took it.”

Your stomach twists violently. “Took what?”

His lips press into a thin line before he finally looks at you. “My arm.”

A chill crawls down your spine. “Bucky…”

“It happened right before they found us,” he continues, voice flat, almost detached. “We didn’t know help was coming. We thought that was it. We thought we were gonna die in that fucking basement.”

You stiffen, your fingers tightening around his.

“They must have figured out a rescue was close,” Bucky goes on, staring at some invisible spot on the wall. “Because they started executing us. One by one, taking us out before anyone could get to us.”

You stop breathing.

“It was my turn, they went to drag me out,” he says, his voice eerily even.

He huffs a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Carlos tried to stop them. I told him not to, told him it was too late.”

His throat bobs. “He didn’t listen.”

You can barely keep yourself together.

“Carlos tackled one of them before they could pull the trigger and in the chaos, I got loose… but one of them had a machete.”

Your stomach drops.

“He just started swinging the thing, tried to take my whole arm off. Got through most of my shoulder before the blast happened.”

Your lips part, but no words come out.

“I thought I was dead,” he admits, voice rough, raw. “I thought…I felt myself slipping and then the whole place shook. I woke up in a helicopter with a medic shoving a needle in my neck.”

Your hand flies to your mouth, trying to stifle the sob that’s rising in your throat. “Bucky.”

He finally looks at you. “They saved it,” he says, glancing at his shoulder, at the thick gauze covering the mangled skin beneath. “It’ll never be the same, and it hurts a lot, the nerve damage is irreversible.”

You shake your head, tears burning in your eyes. “But you’re here,” you whisper.

His expression softens, he nods. “I'm here.”

[palettepainter]

I mentioned this OC a while ago, but Zephyr's guard! He's also the third member of Mick's motorbiking group he travelled with before meeting Terri

Jotting down some facts I made about him a while ago:

He's Australian and lived there his whole life until he unexpectedly moved to Europe when a vulture snatched him up, flew across the ocean and dropped him there. He has both a fear of heights and birds of prey thanks to the experience

When he fell he landed on the head, and has remained the same height ever since. Doctors theorise the fall stunted his bodies growth permanently

His name is Irwin (reference to Steve Irwin, suggested by @devilsrecreation)

Much like Steve Irwin he loves nature and most animals, despite his size and his fears of heights and birds of prey, he's generally very unafraid of pretty much everything else nature wise. Some of his favourite animals include the cowboy beetle, echidna and thorny devil

Similar to Rowlf he has dog like mannerisms: most common, he's prone to growling and barking when especially annoyed, yips or growls in his sleep, his tail wags when happy and he does several circles in bed or on a sofa before sitting down

His foot thumps when his ear is scratched

Hates stairs, they take forever for him to climb

Hates shopping for clothes because they NEVER have clothes in his size, often has to go looking through the baby stuff to find things that fit him, which is endlessly embarrassing for him

He openly prefers to sit in booster seats when in car, at the table or at a cinema because otherwise he can't see properly

Small body with the appetite of a horse

He Mick and Sully are all big drinkers, but since Irwin doesn't have any kids and never had to draw back from alcohol he has the highest tolerance out of the three of them

Him and Camilla are best friends, they bond over the fact they're both self conscious about their respective heights

Hates Barry and vice versa, it's a natural dog vs cat thing

Often petted by strangers who mistake him for being a child, Janice has done this before

Janice: Oh he's so cuuute!~ He's so fluffy!

Zephyr: That's great Janice, also he's my security..

Knew there was something going on with Clifford and Zephyr before they announced their relationship, he doesn't hate Clifford but he was suspicious of him at the time (could have worked on his phrasing when breaking the news to Zephyr's dad)

[ckret2]

i am FASCINATED by the little scraps i've heard about bill's uncle. am i allowed to know more about him. and if the answer is no do you have a chapter estimate for when i am

yeah sure, I already made a post on Bill's mom, I've finally got enough material to make a post on Bill's dad.

Bill got his gorgeous eyelashes, warm color scheme, black limbs, and personality from his mom. He got his shape, his brick lines, and his slitted pupil from his dad. His dad's a self-made businessman*! (*His dad got suckered into joining a multi-level marketing scheme and now he makes money by suckering other people into joining the MLM scheme.)

And: his dad has a brother. They're twiiins!

Bill keeps targeting twins. (The Stans, the kids, TBOB says Pyronica's got a twin sister Hydronica...) I imagine Bill's twin obsession is rooted in something close to home.

Because Euclid & Euler's eye split in half mid-development, they have unusually oval-shaped eyes—a common sign of twins. They've been going to an optometrist since they were toddlers to deal with poor eyesight and floaters in their peripheral vision. They've had a mix of surgery, corrective lenses, and medication to narrow their field of view to the area they can see clearly. So when baby Billy said he was seeing "bright white dots" on "the outside of everything," Euclid went aha! He knows exactly what Bill's seeing!

He did not, in fact, know what Bill was seeing.

Bill's parents didn't regularly visit family, but Euler was the one relative they saw most often. He was the first person to snap out of the "haha it sure is funny how Bill can guess when somebody's about to knock on the door" rationalizations to realize that Bill really could see things no one else did.

And since Bill's parents are sort of disasters who think starting a cult is a great get-rich-quick scheme, Euler was one of the most emotionally stable role models in Bill's life. It sure is a good thing that Euler was a constant presence and nothing happened to him during Bill's tender formative years!

"But wait," you say, "you told us that Bill got his shape and slit pupil from his dad. But wouldn't that mean he got genes for a square? And how could he have gotten a slit pupil if that wasn't a genetic trait, but a consequence of an eyeball splitting in half?"

Triangles and slit pupils don't run in Euclid's side of the family. But squares and twins do.

I imagine Bill's twin obsession is rooted in something close to home.

"So Steve exists in your headcanon—?" No. He's a stillbirth his parents pretend doesn't exist. He's a crime Bill committed before he was born. He's the imaginary phantom Bill's parents are searching for when they look at Bill—starting fires, hallucinating, spitting up his medicine—and wonder what he'd be like if he was different. He's a symbol representing a source of unconditional love and support that Bill deserved and needed, but never had. Steve's all those things—but he doesn't and never has existed.

And there at last is my Euclid headcanons post. If y'all are interested & didn't see it, here's my Scalene headcanons post! And some headcanons about shape twins that still basically work post-TBOB, we just know now that Euclideans don't need a line and a polygon to reproduce.

(95% of my headcanons about Bill's dad & uncle are pre-TBOB. The only difference is that I originally designed Euclid & Euler as green trapezoids that had split from a hexagon. Trapezoids so that Bill and his dad could do this, green so that Bill's dad could be the original color Bill was designed as before the Gravity Falls crew made him yellow & so that his family could be money-colored: gold-colored Bill & mom, dollar-bill-colored dad.)

(After TBOB/TINAWDC revealed his dad's a triangle and either red or blue, I decided to make the twins blue-green (because I wanted to keep in that "bill's original color scheme" reference) and finagle it so that Euler could still be a trapezoid; after Pyramid Steve came out, I suddenly had a really good thematic reason to make them blue-green. I'd been playing with the idea of making Bill a shoulda-beena twin, Steve finalized that decision by giving me a physical design that could tie into Bill's extended family.)

[cece693]

Where's The Trust? Pt. 2

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: steve really is an asshole, bucky trying to gain forgiveness, you are bitter as fuck, the avengers are conflicted, Tony taking matters into their own hands, good bro Tony, was gonna end it here but a reconciliation is in order, part 3 if wanted

It had been weeks since that horrible confrontation—weeks since you’d walked out on Bucky, burning with betrayal and heartbreak. And in that time, your anger had crystallized into a cold, vicious wall that no one—least of all Bucky—could penetrate.

Bucky tried. God, did he try. He sought you out in every corridor of the Avengers Compound, cornering you near the training gym, waiting for you outside the labs, even tentatively stopping by your quarters. But no matter how or where he approached, you shut him down with biting words or frosty glares. Sometimes you wouldn’t even look at him; you’d just shoulder past, exuding the kind of scorn that made everyone around you flinch.

You became, in Tony’s words, “the biggest asshole known to man.” Normally affable and considerate, you were now short-tempered, dismissive, and cold as ice. You brushed off team bonding sessions, training spars, even the usual group movie nights if he or Steve were in attendance. The rest of the team was confused, to say the least. After all, you and Bucky had been the golden couple—two people whose trust and loyalty seemed unshakeable. Now, you were outright hostile, and Bucky looked like a hollow shell of the man they once knew. No one knew the details of what went wrong; no one dared pry into the tinderbox of your anger.

Steve, in the meantime, tried to exploit the widening chasm between you and Bucky. “You need to move on,” he murmured one day in the gym, while Bucky had been pounding at the super-soldier-enforced punching bags, trying—and failing—to vent his frustration in a healthier way. “They’re never going to forgive you, Buck. Maybe it’s time you—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Bucky snapped, punching the bag off the chain and sending it skittering across the room. Sweat dripped down his face, but his eyes blazed colder than ice.

“I’m just saying,” Steve continued, stepping closer, “maybe we can find comfort in each oth—”

Bucky nearly flew at him, fists clenched. “Comfort?” he snarled, voice trembling with rage. “Don’t you dare talk to me about comfort, you self-serving bastard. You think you can just swoop in when I’m at my lowest and pick up the pieces? You destroyed everything!” His voice echoed off the empty gym walls, making Steve flinch. The blonde raised both hands, palms out, but Bucky didn’t let him speak again.

“You ruined my life—my relationship—so you could chase some pathetic fantasy that we were meant to be. Let me spell it out for you, Rogers: I don't love you nor do I want anything to do with you. Whatever we had is gone, dead. You come near me with that bullshit again, and I swear I’ll make you regret it.” A tense silence fell. Steve swallowed hard, eyes flicking with hurt, but Bucky stormed off before he could respond. From that moment on, any semblance of friendship between them was shattered.

The tension rose within the team so much that it was Tony—yes, the man who normally avoided confrontation like the plague—who finally mustered the nerve to corner you about what happened with Barnes. He cornered you in one of the compound’s smaller lounges, a glass-walled room where you wouldn’t have an easy escape route. You glowered at him the moment he closed the door, already anticipating the lecture you didn’t want.

“Look,” Tony said, raising both hands in mock surrender, “I get it—you’re in a Bad Mood with capital letters. Usually, I’d say that’s none of my business, but this is starting to affect mission readiness. And that is my business. So talk.”

You folded your arms, lips pressed in a tight line. “There’s nothing to say, Tony.”

“Right. Because you and your ex–mister perfect soldier just decided to stop talking and run around with matching doom-and-gloom expressions for fun.” Tony snorted, crossing his arms in return. “Come on, I’m not asking for graphic details. Just enough to, you know, keep the team from imploding. And—” He hesitated, then added more softly, “I’m worried about you.”

Your chest tightened. You hadn’t heard that tone from him in a while—an undercurrent of genuine concern rather than sarcastic deflection. It reminded you, painfully, that once upon a time you and Tony had been…well, something. Not precisely soulmates, but definitely more than friends. A messy tangle of mutual respect, attraction, and comfort that had eventually fizzled out amicably. And while your heart now belonged to Bucky (or did, anyway), you still had a lingering fondness for Tony that was tough to ignore.

You exhaled a shaky breath, your anger and sorrow warring behind your eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.”

His eyebrows lifted, and he gave a half-laugh. “Yeah, sure. And I’m the poster boy for healthy coping mechanisms.” Then his expression sobered. “(Y/N), please. Level with me. Something major happened, and if it keeps escalating, it’s not just you and Bucky who’ll suffer—it could jeopardize missions, our safety…everything.”

You closed your eyes. For a moment, your lips pressed into a thin, trembling line. You were so damn tired—tired of carrying all this anger, tired of everyone tiptoeing around you, tired of Bucky’s hollow stares. Part of you wanted to hold everything in. Another part was on the verge of bursting. And Tony…Tony was the one person who might actually understand. Hell, he’d seen you at your worst and never once thrown it back in your face.

Your eyes snapped open, and you found yourself speaking before you could lose your nerve. “He lied, Tony. Bucky lied to me. We were serious, and he never bothered to tell me about him and Steve. They used to…be together. And then I caught them kissing. I—” Your voice cracked, and you had to breathe through the sudden surge of raw pain. “I don’t know who started it. Bucky swears it was Steve, but I— I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Tony’s face flickered with surprise, quickly followed by something like sympathy. “Steve and Bucky…” he muttered, rubbing his chin. “Wow, okay. That’s a new one for me.”

You snorted, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yeah, well, apparently it wasn’t new for them. They’d had some fling back in the day, never told me, and now I’m the idiot left wondering if he ever really gave it up, or if I was just—just some stand-in.”

You could feel the tears welling up, which only made your anger twist into something more acidic. Dammit, you hated crying in front of others, especially Tony. But the betrayal still burned, and it wasn’t going away. Tony watched you carefully. “Hey,” he said softly, shifting closer. “You can be mad, y’know. You can feel every bit of this. You’re not wrong for it.”

His words—simple validation—threatened to break the floodgates. Despite the resentment swirling in your gut, you felt a small pocket of relief that he hadn’t brushed you off or told you to “get over it.” In fact, he looked unexpectedly sympathetic. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” you muttered, wiping angrily at your eyes.

“No,” Tony agreed, “it doesn’t. But sometimes we need the hurt. We need to acknowledge it before it can heal—or before we can figure out if it’s even worth healing.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Trust me, I know a thing or two about screwing up relationships.”

A tired laugh escaped you. “I remember.”

“Har har.” He rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not defending Barnes’ secrecy—dumb move on his part, no question. But from what I’ve seen, the guy worships the ground you walk on. He’s miserable without you.”

“Well, he should’ve thought about that before he lied to me.” Your voice wavered between fury and sorrow. “I can’t just pretend everything’s okay.”

"And you shouldn't, (Y/N), but if there's one thing I know is that love is tougher than the shit we throw at it. If you're still this mad at him, it means a part of you still cares because if you didn't, you'd be indifferent. Anger is a sign there's something worth being angry over, you know?"

You stared at him, that sentiment rocking through you. You’d been so caught up in the betrayal, you hadn’t stopped to think about what your anger truly meant. If you truly wanted Bucky out of your life, why did the mere thought of him push your heart into overdrive?

“God, I hate that you’re making sense,” you mumbled, sniffing.

Tony quirked a small smile. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a rep to maintain.”

You barked a watery laugh, your shoulders sagging. The relief of finally talking to someone—really talking—felt like a weight lifting, even if just a little. “So what now?” you asked, voice quiet. “I can’t just snap my fingers and fix this. Every time I see him, I remember— remember them together.”

He nodded. “I hear you. I’m not saying you have to forgive him tomorrow. But maybe give yourself some breathing room. Let the anger settle a bit. Once the rage isn’t so blinding, maybe you can see if there’s anything to salvage—any explanation that doesn’t make you want to throttle him.” He paused, then added wryly, “And, well, if you can’t salvage it, at least you’ll know you tried.”

A weighted silence lingered. You exhaled slowly, struggling to keep your emotions in check. Finally, you lifted your gaze to Tony’s, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “When did you become the voice of reason?”

He patted your shoulder. “Probably around the time I decided I actually give a damn about the people on this team. Don’t spread it around.” Despite yourself, you laughed again—hoarsely, but genuinely. It was the first time in weeks you’d felt anything close to lightness. Tony gave you a half-smile, pressing a small handkerchief into your hand. You recognized it as one of his showier accessories, printed with tiny Iron Man helmets.

“Here,” he said. “Use it to dab away those tears before someone catches on that you still have a heart.”

You rolled your eyes but accepted it gratefully, wiping the dampness from your cheeks. “Thanks, Tony,” you murmured. “For listening. For everything.”

He shrugged in that trademark Stark way—casual but genuine. “Anytime, (Y/N). Just don’t go ballistic on me if I try to get you two in the same room. I’m not saying I will, but, you know…hypotheticals.”

You shot him a half-hearted glare, tempered by a ghost of a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

He grinned. “Noted.”

With that, he opened the lounge door, allowing you to slip back into the compound’s corridors. But somehow, the air felt a fraction less suffocating—and for the first time in weeks, you dared to consider the possibility that, maybe, healing wasn’t entirely off the table.

[glorious-spoon]

i think fundamentally the appeal of steddie for me is that steve is the sort of person who just utterly resists being involved in the narrative. he doesn't want to be here. he has no interest in scientific discovery, or epic heroism, or fantasy games. he's a small-town jock who peaked in high school and he wants to flirt with girls and fix his hair and shoot hoops on the weekends and maybe get a job that sucks a little less than the job he currently has, and the existence of interdimensional monsters and brilliant brave little idiots he feels responsible for repeatedly trying to fight said monsters is really, like, throwing off his groove here.

and then there's eddie, who fucking loves a narrative. he wants a big bold fantastical story! he wants something larger than the life he has. he's going to get out of hawkins, he's going to get on a big stage, he's going to make something of himself! he's a storyteller, a dreamer, a provocateur. he wants reality to be more interesting than it is.

and then all of a sudden it is. in the worst way. and there's steve, this guy who really doesn't want to be here but who sighs and rolls his eyes and steps up to take the punches. and eddie is just - fascinated with him. and for steve, here's eddie, who is just a ridiculous person, who makes no goddamn sense at all, who gives him a flashlight and a jacket and pulls him aside while they're hiking through the underworld to eagerly and awkwardly try to bridge that gap between them and make a connection that's real.

idk! just compels me, that's all. they have nothing in common at all, but they're fascinated with each other. they want to know each other, and they should have gotten the chance to

[rinajjbp]

Greasers and their godly parent (Part 2)

Alright, back at it. Sorry, that first post was just waaayyy too long (like this one isn’t 🫣). Let’s move on to the rest of the gang! :)

First up we’ve got…

Two-Bit - The Thief - Son of Hermes

I actually had a hard time choosing for Two-Bit. Not because I thought he didn’t belong anywhere, only because I couldn’t pick between Hermes and Dionysus!

To me, both make a lot of sense. Two-Bit drinks… a lot. Two-Bit, well, he’s kind of a bum 😅 and Dionysus is both of these things. However, Two-Bit is also crackin’ jokes, stealin’ shit, playin’ pranks, and most importantly making sure he isn’t getting caught.

These attributes are what made me choose Hermes. Mainly because I think him and the Stoll brothers are kindred spirits.

Hermes would love this kid.

Next…

Steve - The Mechanic - Son of Hephaestus

Steve, Steve, Steve. Oh Steve. This wasn’t a hard decision for me at all. Steve would be in heaven in Cabin 9. This guy would be building a whole fuckin’ car from SCRATCH. He’d have to convince Chiron to let the campers race cars, because frankly, the chariot races aren’t fast enough.

He’d finally feel like he had some purpose at that camp. Building things. Things that mattered. Things that helped his siblings win competitions and just overall improve camp life. Steve would thrive at camp in my humble opinion. Maybe he wouldn’t be so angry at the world anymore…

Now, for everyone’s favorite…😂

Dallas Winston - The Confederate (The Menace To Society) - Son of Ares

Now, ya see, this one was also a no brainer for me. He’s a brute, a force to be reckoned with, he’s Dallas Winston son of Ares: the god of war, the god of violence, the god of rage, and master of taunts.

Dallas would be one of Ares’s favorite children. He would have gained Ares’s favor quickly and would have been claimed the first time he beat someone up at camp 💀 Which, let’s be honest, wouldn’t have taken very long at all. In this universe, Dally isn’t much different. 😅

Finally, we have last, and certainly not least (although, not according to Pony)….

Johnny Cade - The Shadow - Son of Hades

*sigh* Oh, Johnny. He is my favorite, but I am fully aware of the absolute tragedy he is and therefore can’t hold back.

I actually had a really hard time placing him, because initially I wanted to stay true to the PJO books and not place any of them under “The Big Three.” But the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t see Johnny…well…anywhere.

And maybe it’s that thought alone, or maybe it’s the fact that him and Nico di Angelo live in the same hemisphere of my brain, but children of Hades are the outsiders. People are afraid of them. Hades is excluded from Mount Olympus and for the longest time there was no Hades cabin at CHB. Hell, the cabin number is 13! They live unlucky and hard lives, and who else fits in that category better than Johnnycake?

Death follows him and at camp (the guys aside) he’d have a hard time fitting in.

Link to part 1 below!

[tea-writes19]

besties | p.p.

pairing: peter parker x f!stark!reader

summary: your friendship with your dad’s intern turns into something more

warnings: friends to lovers, swearing, these bitches being oblivious, comedy, dad tony, mentions of past affairs, suggestive content, fluff galore, slow burn, underage drinking

a/n: i’m not usually a peter girlie as i love him and mj together but i wanted to write some fluff so here we are. also i’m laughing at petey’s intials. set post endgame but tony lives and steve doesn’t go back in time. nat’s still dead tho :(

liked by peterparker, nedleeds, tonystark, and others

yourusername: your fave upstate & queens duo

tagged: @/peterparker

view comments below

user1: MY FAVES

user2: imagine being friends w/ the y/n stark😩

user3: THIS

nedleeds: can’t believe y’all got food without me…

peterparker: sorry!

yourusername: no we’re not

peterparker: never getting in a car with you driving AGAIN

yourusername: IT WAS ONE CURB

user4: like father like daughter😭

user5: omg😂

tonystark: how many people from queens do you even know?

yourusername: that doesn’t matter

peterparker: they hate when we serve orphan & nepo baby

yourusername: 🗣️🗣️

user6: not the dead parents—

user7: i bet peter is the funniest person alive😭

user8: bro’s got trauma for days😭😭

pepperpotts: so this is why it took you two 6 hours to get the olive oil i asked for…

yourusername: should’ve sent happy🤷🏻‍♀️

jamesrhodes: you act like y/n doesn’t have tony’s horrible time management skills

pepperpotts: and peter?

jamesrhodes: spends too much time with tony and y/n

user9: god i want to live in nyc so bad

user10: pov: you saw y/n stark hit a curb today

liked by nedleeds, yourusername, mjjones, and others

peterparker: lab days🛠️🥽

tagged: @/tonystark

view comments below

yourusername: YOU GOT FIVE GUYS WITHOUT ME?!??

peterparker: BLAME YOUR DAD!! IT WAS HIS IDEA

tonystark: that was supposed to stay between us kid😑

user11: is that a new iron man model i see👀

peterparker: nope, just fixing rhodey’s suit :)

yourusername: surprised uncle rhodes is letting you touch that old thing

jamesrhodes: HEY! the war machine suit works fine just the way it is

yourusername: clearly not if it had to be fixed…

user11: oh god what have i started🫣

user12: five guys👨‍🍳🤌

user13: looks so fun!

nedleeds: man you HAVE got to convince mr. stark to let me come with someday

tonystark: not happening hacker

nedleeds: 😔

mjjones: THIS was more important than acdec?

peterparker: YOU DON’T JUST SAY NO TO TONY STARK MJ!!!!

yourusername: i do all the time🤨

user14: 😭😭

user15: love how peter is just friends with all the starks

user16: i’m pretty sure he’s tony’s personal intern

user17: ^^^

user18: oh my god i thought he was another bastard from tony’s playboy days😭

user19: lmao nooooo

user20: tbf i forget y/n isn’t pepper’s kid sometimes soooo….

liked by nedleeds, mjjones, peterparker, and others

yourusername: a happy meal is the only true serotonin one needs in life

tagged: @/peterparker @/nedleeds

view comments below

tonystark: what am i? chopped liver?

yourusername: yes

tonystark: ouch

user21: imagine calling tony stark chopped liver😭

nedleeds: i’m pretty sure we broke the airplane wheel

yourusername: shhhh…don’t let ronald hear you

peterparker: thanks for the nightmare fuel tn

yourusername: anytime🫡

user22: happy meals >>>

user23: mcds cokes >>>

yourusername: ronald mcdonald🥵

user24: one of these is not like the others…

user25: LMAO NOT RONALD MCDONALD😭😭

peterparker: i’m just glad we took the subway this time

yourusername: WOW

yourusername: AND TO THINK WE WERE BFFS

peterparker: I’M SORRY I DON’T WANT TO DIE YOUNG

tonystark: that is the most bullshit response i’ve ever heard from you

user26: this comment section is so unhinged😭😭

user27: lol what’d you expect??? it’s the starks

tonystark: morgan would like a happy meal

yourusername: we all know that’s just the excuse for you to get one too but that’s ok

liked by tonystark, yourusername, steverogers, and others

pepperpotts: cozy day with the family🤍

tagged: @/tonystark @/yourusername

view comments below

user28: you guys are so cute!

yourusername: i would like everyone to know that dad pushed me into the pond after that pic was taken

user29: omg noooo😭😭

peterparker: did you save your drink at least?

yourusername: obviously…i’m not a monster pete

user30: i’m crying at the thought of tony stark pushing his daughter into a pond😭😭

user31: ^^^

tonystark: this is defamation

steverogers: glad to see you guys doing well pep!

pepperpotts: you should come over for dinner sometime soon!!

tonystark: please leave the 2 assholes that follow you around at home thanks

pepperpotts: TONY

yourusername: bring them for the bit

samwilson: i’m going to get morgan the loudest fucking toy for christmas now

user32: this thread is a mess😭😭

user33: it’s so weird to see y/n without peter lol

user34: lol frfr

user35: i’m kinda starting to ship them ngl

user36: omg yes!!

user37: you guys can never let a boy and girl just be friends😒

tonystark: my arms are so tired from pushing morgan in that swing all day

yourusername: sounds like a skill issue

peterparker: ^^^

tonystark: i’d like to see you two single-handedly save new york from an impending nuke

user38: 😭😭😭

jamesrhodes: looks like a perfect day for the stanks!

tonystark: you’re never letting that go are you

jamesrhodes: nope!

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: when the trip makes it out of the family group chat >>>]

story replies

peterparker: can’t wait!!!

yourusername: i am so beating you to the best room

user39: i just know the pics are abt to be fire🔥🔥

user40: where are you going?

mjjones: i’m expecting a real life nemo

yourusername: 🫡🫡

liked by peterparker, pepperpotts, mjjones, and others

yourusername: us virgin islands? this american def ain’t a virg—

tagged: @/peterparker @/tonystark @/pepperpotts

view comments below

user41: HELLO?!?

user42: GIRL WHAT!?

peterparker: ain’t nothin’ virgin abt this isla—

yourusername: 🏝️= 👉👌

user43: WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!

user44: YOUR PARENTS FOLLOW YOU Y/N

mjjones: the island after y’all left: 🤰

yourusername: MJ I’M SCREAMING😭😭

nedleeds: so was the isla—i’m gonna stop

user45: 😭😭

tonystark: sometimes i think i asexually reproduced you like a plant

yourusername: surprised you didn’t clone yourself in a lab or smth

jamesrhodes: don’t give him ideas

user46: i’m freaking out over the caption

user47: no fr…

user48: AND PETER’S COMMENT

user49: 🎶i think they did it but i just can’t prove it🎶

steverogers: there’s definitely an innuendo in here somewhere but i’m just going to pretend i’m blind and go

yourusername: good choice

user50: CAPTAIN AMERICA SIR—

user51: mom come pick me up i’m scared

liked by yourusername, nedleeds, tonystark, and others

peterparker: i have sand in my ass

tagged: @/yourusername @/tonystark @/pepperpotts

view comments below

user52: love how peter was invited on the family vacation

user53: he really is just part of the fam

user54: so convinced he and y/n are dating

user55: god i hope so

nedleeds: simp

peterparker: damn right - y/n

user56: not y/n stealing peter’s phone to comment this

user57: simp you say👀

yourusername: damn who that hottie in slide 2?

peterparker: you boo😘 - y/n

yourusername: aww thanks boo🥰

user58: 😭😭

steverogers: and that’s enough instagram for me tonight

tonystark: i still don’t know what y’all were looking at

yourusername: your ego obviously🙄

user59: oh to go on a hike with tony stark

user60: oh to be dating y/n stark

user61: they never said they’re dating…

user62: shhh let us be delusional🤫

liked by pepperpotts, jamesrhodes, yourusername, and others

tonystark: the difference between morgan and y/n on vacation…

tagged: @/pepperpotts @/yourusername

view comments below

user63: omg😭😭

user64: y/n is such a mood

peterparker: morgan is a menace at go karts

yourusername: she plays too much mario kart fr

jamesrhodes: when one gets pepper’s genes and the other yours…

yourusername: i can’t believe you’ve done this

tonystark: oh but tis has

user65: i wanna say i’m morgan but in reality i’m y/n

user66: thisssss

user67: same😭

pepperpotts: to be fair y/n was hungover in the second pic…

yourusername: the porcelain gods did not grant mercy on me😔

liked by tonystark, peterparker, steverogers, and others

pepperpotts: great vacation with even greater company💕💕

tagged: @/tonystark @/yourusername @/peterparker

view comments below

peterparker: thank you for the invitation mrs. potts

user68: stop he’s too cute

user69: peter you’re adorable

user70: what a wonderful time to spend with family!

tonystark: i love you mrs. potts

pepperpotts: i love you mr. stark

yourusername: 😖🤮

jamesrhodes: glad to see tony still somehow manages to end up in the er on every trip

tonystark: i have a world record to hold up😤

user71: lmao😭

yourusername: i’m still full from that feast

peterparker: none of my pants fit after that salmon😩

user72: LOVE🤍🤍

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: 🌟🌊]

story replies

peterparker: you really are the best

yourusername: you too pete💞

user73: holy shit holy shit holy—

user74: omg i’m so happy for you

steverogers: so did you two…fondue

yourusername: OH MY GOD

liked by yourusername, mjjones, nedleeds, and others

peterparker: another post bc we leave tmrw

tagged: @/yourusername @/tonystark

view comments below

yourusername: gonna miss sneaking out…

tonystark: oh please you do that back home too

yourusername: it’s not the same🙄

nedleeds: can’t wait to see you man!!

peterparker: so ready for our mandalorian marathon!

mjjones: nerds

yourusername: ^^^

user75: lmao tony😭😭

user76: he’s keeping an eye out for selener

user75: STOP😭

tonystark: andddd you’re grounded from the lab for that pic

peterparker: awww man😔

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: when he cares abt school🤭🫠]

story replies

peterparker: you were just making fun of me for studying🤨

yourusername: semantics

user77: automatically makes a guy hotter

yourusername: hear hear🗣️

mjjones: that better be acdec work…

liked by mjjones, peterparker, tonystark, and others

yourusername: here’s the hard launch for you bitches

tagged: @/peterparker

view comments below

user78: OMG OMG OMG—

user79: I CALLED IT

peterparker: so happy to call you mine🫶🏻

yourusername: 😘

mjjones: abt damn time…

nedleeds: ^^^

tonystark: ^^^

jamesrhodes: ^^^

pepperpotts: ^^^

steverogers: ^^^

samwilson: ^^^

happyhogan: ^^^

yourusername: damn ok then

tonystark: keep the door open

tonystark: and don’t even THINK about fonduing in my house

yourusername: PLEASE STOP

© tea-writes19 do not repost, translate, or copy

[bylerpining]

In regards to your "Why bring Stancy back in S4?" question, I've also wondered this. If Jancy endgame is the plan, why bring Steve's now years-long infatuation with Nancy back into the fold? There are certainly other ways they could've conveyed the weakening of Jancy's relationship from miscommunication, ways that didn't involve re-creating a dead love triangle and metaphorically Beating Steve's Ass.

I wonder if their love triangle was re-created to stand alongside the willelmike love triangle, to show the audience through both Nancy and Mike simultaneously that the easiest option (Steve, who's alongside her in Hawkins and going out of his way to take care of her, as opposed to Jonathan who's not only in another state but generally emotionally MIA) (El, who is already his girlfriend and someone he deeply cares for, as opposed to Will, who confronting his feelings for opens a can of very angry worms) isn't always the best option.

I don't think I'd be very *happy* with that being the reason the Stancy vs. Jancy debate was brought back, on account of that cheapening the fact that Nancy chose Jonathan in the first place just for the sake of creating more parallels with another ship in the show, but I feel like it could've been a big motivator there.

It does bother me though. Steve's been written into the position Will would be in if M*leven ended up canon. Just. Endlessly pining? Not getting to be with the girl he thinks is the love of his life? They didn't need to do that to him. Hope whatever happens in S5 sheds some better light on it.

Exactly! this is my thing. it's definitely a possibility that they brought the love triangle back to parallel willelmike or have steve and jonathan form a connection, but i don't see any good enough reason for them to essentially repeat a story that's already been told??

we already went through this in s1/2: both jonathan and steve have feelings for nancy, nancy chooses jonathan, steve's heart is broken. then steve has his arc of becoming a better person and (supposedly) getting over nancy, just to... actually still have feelings for nancy and get rejected AGAIN and heartbroken AGAIN??? what would be the point of that?? i don't think they would bring back this dynamic for it to turn out the same way.

you're right, it's a similar dynamic to the willelmike triangle. it would be pointless here in the same way that it would be pointless to bring will into an established relationship just for mike to choose the same person he's been with for four seasons. i feel like in the nancy jonathan steve triangle it would actually be even worse considering they already did it before.

there has to be something that's changed this time around, whatever that may be. honestly the only valid reason i see them doing this is if jonathan dies... they're establishing that the connection between stancy is still there and the door isn't fully closed, and they might hint at them reconnecting in the epilogue. not that i want that to happen, but i don't see any other point of making it clear to the audience that steve's feelings are still there. idk man

[mintyys-blog]

Steves shock and awe at his wedding day with f.d reader as shes in a 40s inspired wedding dress ^^ . A quiet wedding with the team and her family plus the two being the sweetest couple.

Y/n was being interviewed at vogue the next month and asked about the ring and prior to the interview steve let her spill the beans cause they are married . Many awe sure theres haters yet shes faced harsher critics . Her and steve are adorable!!!

DESIGNER LOVE— steve rogers x fashion designer! reader

WARNINGS: none

Steve had been through countless battles, faced enemies beyond imagination, and even survived being frozen in ice for decades. Yet, nothing—nothing—had ever made his heart stop like the sight of Y/N walking down the aisle.

She was breathtaking.

Draped in an elegant, 1940s-inspired wedding dress, she was the embodiment of timeless beauty. Delicate lace sleeves clung to her arms, and the flowing skirt trailed behind her in a way that felt almost ethereal. The vintage silhouette perfectly accentuated her form, paying homage to the era he once called home. Steve felt as though he had stepped back in time, back to a dream he never thought he’d live to see.

His fingers clenched at his sides as a wave of emotions crashed over him. Love. Awe. Absolute adoration.

Bucky, standing beside him as his best man, smirked and elbowed him slightly. “Close your mouth, punk.”

Steve barely heard him. His blue eyes were locked onto Y/N’s as she moved forward, her father guiding her toward him. Her own gaze shimmered with unshed tears, lips curving into the softest, most loving smile.

When she finally reached him, Steve let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His hands instinctively reached for hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles as he whispered, “You are stunning.”

Y/N’s smile widened. “I wanted to wear something you’d love.”

Steve’s jaw clenched as he swallowed down the overwhelming emotion swelling in his chest. “I love you.”

The ceremony was intimate—just the way they wanted it. The Avengers sat amongst Y/N’s closest family, all of them witnessing a love that had withstood time, battles, and the weight of the world. There was no press, no grand spectacle—only them, promising forever.

As they exchanged vows, Steve could see nothing but her.

And when he kissed her, with her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands firmly at her waist, he knew this was the greatest victory of his life.

One Month Later – Vogue Interview

Y/N adjusted her blazer, smoothing down the fabric as she sat across from the Vogue interviewer. This was nothing new—interviews, press, cameras. She’d built a name for herself in the fashion industry, her designs gracing the pages of every major magazine. But today felt different.

Because today, she wasn’t just Y/N, the fashion designer. She was Y/N Rogers.

The interviewer leaned forward, her sharp eyes catching the glint of Y/N’s ring. “That’s a gorgeous ring. Tell me, is there a story behind it?”

Y/N glanced at the engagement ring and wedding band stacked on her finger, warmth spreading through her chest. She knew this moment was coming. Steve had told her before she left that she could finally spill the beans.

With a grin, she lifted her hand, letting the light catch the diamonds. “Actually… there is.”

The interviewer’s brows lifted. “Oh?”

Y/N leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret. “I’m married.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“What? To who?”

Y/N chuckled, tilting her head knowingly. “Steve Rogers.”

The interviewer’s mouth fell open. “Captain America? The Steve Rogers?”

“The one and only.” Y/N smiled, twirling the ring slightly. “We had a small wedding last month. Just close family and friends.”

The internet would be in flames by the time the interview aired. Y/N could already picture the reactions—shock, excitement, and, of course, the inevitable hate.

But she had faced harsher critics before.

Let them talk. She had Steve.

And they were happy.

Absolutely, perfectly, incandescently happy.